My Brothel Bride Ch 03

The door closed behind me, and I was left alone.

Through the one-way mirror, I saw a man tied spread-eagle on the bed. Silk scarves secured his wrists to the headboard and his ankles to the footboard. His cock pointed at the ceiling. Jill wore a black leather corset with openings for her breasts and her shaved pussy. Black, thigh-high, spike-heeled boots were connected to leather garters. Long, shoulder-length, black gloves covered her arms. A black leather mask over her face down to her nose and cheeks completed the dominatrix costume. Even with her face concealed, I knew it was her. I'd know her golden mane, her tits, and her pussy anywhere.

She held a cat-o'-nine-tails in her hand. "You've been a naughty boy, haven't you?" she said to him. She lashed the whip across his shins.

"Yes, mistress," he said.

"It's time to confess your sins."

"Yes, mistress, I must confess."

"What do you have to confess?"

"I slept with my girlfriend." Again the whip lashed his shins.

"You just went to sleep with her? I don't believe it."

"We were awake." This time the whip landed a little higher up, just missing his knees. "We had our clothes off, and we were in bed."

"Neither of you had any clothes on?"

"No, we were both naked." She whipped his knees.

"That's very naughty. Tell me about her. What does she look like?"

"She's pretty. Not as pretty as you, mistress. Just pretty." A smile crossed her face. "Her hair is short and dark; her eyes are dark. She has pretty breasts, rather small -- firm, but small."

"Are my breasts pretty?" She ran her hands over them. Her nipples jutted out.

"Yours are beautiful, mistress."

"Hers are just pretty. Is that any way to talk about your girlfriend?" He watched in terror as the whip lashed his thigh a few inches from his balls. His cock remained solid.

"They're very pretty -- gorgeous."

"That's better. Tell me more."

"Her pubic hair is dark too. Short and dark." He looked up at her questioningly. "I love the way it looks. It's beautiful. Yours is beautiful too," he added quickly.

He gasped when the whip landed less than an inch from his equipment. This time even I winced at the sound of the impact on his thighs. She handled it very well. It was then I realized I had a raging hardon.

"I don't have any pubic hair, you fool," she snarled. She climbed onto the bed and straddled his face. "Take a good look. Do you see any hair?"

"No, mistress. I meant you are beautiful without hair." His breathing was shallow.

"What did you do with her?"

"I ate her pussy."

She scooted up and lowered her pussy over his mouth. "Show me exactly what you did."

Her body was between his face and me. I saw her grind her snatch into his face. Her hips slowly moved back and forth. She tilted her head back. Her mouth opened, and she panted. "Keep doing that," she whispered. Her hand reached down toward his head, probably to hold it by his hair. "Eat me, slave!" she growled. "Eat me like your life depends on it." Her hips snapped front to back, and her breathing became deep and rapid. She sat straight up and rode his face like a saddle on a horse. The pitch of her voice rose as an orgasm coursed through her body. Her bottom trembled as she screamed with passionate delight.

I extracted my boner from my pants and stroked it gently. Seeing her stiffen up when she climaxed made my breath come faster. Only with a major effort did I avoid my own climax.

"What else happened?" she asked still panting.

"She sucked on me," he said.

Jill turned around and took his meat in her gloved hand. "Like this?" she asked as she inserted the tip of his cock between her lips.

"Yes, like that."

I traced the rim of my glans with my fingertip. In my mind, I pictured her tongue tracing the rim instead of my finger. She took more of him into her mouth. Her head bobbed up and down on his stem for a couple minutes.

"Yes, mistress, it was just like that," he gasped.

She cupped his balls with one hand while holding his shaft with the other. She stopped with only the head of his dick inside her mouth. She moved her head back and forth just like she had done with her hips. She stopped abruptly, then lowered her head further into his lap. More of his meat disappeared. She took her hand off his cock and another inch of it vanished, then another and another until her nose touched his nut sac. Never had she deep throated me. I resolved on the spot to ask her to do it on me the next Sunday.

Suddenly I realized she was being paid to do him. Would she expect payment from me too?

Jill extracted him from her mouth. She turned around and held his cock to guide it to her pussy. Carefully she lowered her hips and empaled herself on his turgid prick. As it disappeared into her, my balls squeezed themselves sending my seed up to the glass, where it stuck.

She was still riding his saddle horn when I tucked my shrinking muscle into my pants and left the room.

The madam was waiting for me in the hall. I gave up on trying to fool myself. My beloved Jill was a prostitute, and her boss wasn't a manager; she was a madam. She smiled as she took my arm and walked me downstairs to the sitting room. Silently she handed me a scotch on the rocks, then sat beside me on the settee. I drained the glass with one swig. "Are you driving?" she asked softly. I nodded my head. "Then I'm not giving you any more. Is this the first time you've seen bondage and discipline?" Again I nodded. "It can be rather intense. It was for me the first time I did it." My expression must have been incredulous. "You're surprised I used to do tricks? Every madam starts in bed. Jill will make a good one someday." I sat quietly staring at the empty glass. "You have quite a referral credit built up. You could spend some time with one of my girls. It would be on the house." I didn't respond.

A moment later, Jill entered the room. "Carla...." she began but broke off abruptly when she saw me. "Ed?" Carla stood up.

"Do you two...." she began pointing first to Jill, then to me. Jill nodded slightly. "I'll leave you two alone." Carla left the room closing the door behind her.

"Ed, what are you doing here?" Jill asked.

"Entertaining a customer," I said. "And you?"

"Basically the same thing, entertaining customers."

"You mean fucking them."

"Yes, that's my job."

"Your job? You make it sound so normal."

"It is my job, and it's just that, a job -- nothing else."

"With all the sex you get here, what do you need me for?"

"You're my boyfriend, my lover."

"These guys aren't lovers?"

"No, they're customers. They don't mean a thing to me. I went out of my way to keep this job a secret because I knew you'd react this way. That's why I haven't told you anything about myself."

"Your secret is out. You might as well start talking."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Is Jill your real name?"

"Yes, I'm Jill Stewart. I have two brothers. My parents live in Idaho. They're not dead like I told you. I have a business degree. My birthday was last week."

"I wanted to get you a birthday present."

"Why?"

"You were my girlfriend."

"Were? Not anymore?"

I hesitated. "I don't know. I need to think. I came to tell you my customer will be coming back to see you again tomorrow."

"Won't he give you an order without seeing me again?"

"He has given me an order already. A very good one. He's adding to it tomorrow morning before he leaves town."

"You said he wants to see me again. How do you know he saw me tonight?"

"I was watching behind your mirror. He was the one with the oversized dick. He was very impressed by you."

She smiled faintly. "He was pretty nice. I'm glad I could help you get the sale. Thank you for bringing him to me, and for sending him back. Will he be paying this time?"

"No, put it on my account. My company will cover it. This is all just a business to you, isn't it?"

"Yes. Like I said, it's my job, nothing else."

"Just a job." I shook my head. "I'd better be going."

I went to the door and opened it. "Ed," she called after me as I started through the doorway. I stopped without turning around. With tears in her voice, she said, "See you in church?"

The above occurred on a Wednesday. I took care of the order and the add-on the next morning. Half the conversation concerned his going back to fuck Jill again.

I couldn't sort out my feelings. I hated his overbearing arrogance. I hated him for fucking my girlfriend. I hated myself for approving the expenditure of the company's money so he could fuck her. If I had been buying him any other woman, I wouldn't have cared. If it had been any other woman, she could have a boyfriend. He might not have known what she was doing. Or he might have known and not be bothered by it. I had slept with prostitutes before in that brothel. Had their boyfriends watched me with them? If so, what were their feelings? How could I find out? Who could I talk to? A priest? 'Excuse me, Father. I just found out my girlfriend is a prostitute. How do I deal with it?' Maybe I could start a support group for boyfriends of hookers. Maybe I should just mind my own business. Maybe...hell, there were too many maybes.

Thursday evening I started to go see her. Then I remembered I would have to pay to see her because she would be working. Forget that idea. I went back inside and threw myself on the bed. I tried to think the matter through rationally, but every time I came up with an answer to a small part of the problem, I found at least two objections. What was the problem other than my own sense of morality? Did loving her make me her owner? Did love give me control over her life?

I thought about my reaction when I watched her with him. The moment I visualized Jill fucking him, I got an erection. I had seen other couples in the brothel, and I had been aroused, so watching sex wasn't a problem. I had climaxed in the viewing rooms before. It was a natural reaction to an erotic situation. She was definitely erotic. A man would have to be dead to not want her.

Jill was right about how I would have reacted if she had told me up front what her job was. I would have dumped her on the spot. Yet on our second Sunday together, she said she loved me, and I told her I loved her. I knew I had been sincere. In the months since, she had never given me any reason to doubt her love for me. Since I learned she was fucking other men several times a day, I had been doubting her. Her terror when I discovered her occupation showed she knew I would be insecure. She was absolutely right.

The irony of the matter was that I had provided her a customer. I had procured a john for her. I hadn't known that was what I had done Wednesday night, but I certainly knew it Thursday. I had told her I would be paying for the guy's time with her. Did that make me a pimp, or a pervert? A pimp sells women to men for sex. Since I wasn't selling her, I wasn't a pimp. I paid my girlfriend to fuck my customer. The money was filtered through the madam, so I wasn't paying Jill directly.

Watching the two of them -- that was perverted. I don't know why, but most people don't think watching porno movies is perverted. Watching them had been sorta like seeing a porno flick, except it was live. Was seeing sex live perverted, but not recorded? It was live when it was recorded. I couldn't deny I had been turned on. Carla had remarked about the mess I made on the glass. Certainly I wasn't the only voyeur in town. There were four viewing rooms in that house. There was no reason for that many for only one person, especially one who only came in three or four times a year. Don't get me wrong. I loved watching sex. It was much cheaper to rent a porno video than to go to Carla's house. I had an almost unlimited expense account, but I couldn't use it for my own pleasure. If I wanted to watch, or get laid there, I had to have a major customer with me. Many times I had wanted to find a way to do more watching without being a peeping tom. I had that as much on my mind as I had Jill.

Then the answer came to me. It was so obvious. What I had to do was very simple.