Of course Liz followed Deidre back to the house and Rafiq. She gave herself over to him completely. The next days and nights passed in a blur of pleasure, pain, lust, Rafiq mastering her completely, teaching, torturing, training. She learned to love the taste of Deidre's pussy, the thrill of a woman's tongue on her own pussy lips, grinding Diedre's head into herself. Then came strangers, an endless troop of them, anonymous, some women, never the same person twice though and after a while they all began to look the same. But Liz revelled in the surging sexual bloom coursing through her as she posed, paraded and performed for her grubby audience before allowing them to maul her, their dirty, clumsy fingers pinching her nipples, jabbing into her pussy. Sometimes Rafiq had Deidre and Liz perform together, dressed as tarty schoolgirls, tongues flicking each other like reptiles. Always, above everything else though, there was the promise and delivery of Rafiq's pneumatic cock, pulsing, glistening with pussy juice. He had Liz work the streets, six inch heels, tiny lycra miniskirt. Red lips and long nails, Liz was a bitch on heat and they flocked to her.
Then Rafiq gave her what he called a 'special project', different, dangerous. Liz accepted the mission without question. The target was Nicky, Gail's son. Though now 20 and in college, he'd kept on his paper round. It was easy enough to anticipate the time he finished and as he returned down the back alley, Liz put the plan into action.
"Nicky!" she shouted from her kitchen door, "can you come here a minute, luv? I want you."
Nicky turned in surprise, his eyes widened as he took in the slutty vision: heels, black fishnets, a short, tight black leather mini over an extremely low-cut red satin top (it was actually a leotard, though it didn't show) Liz's boobs practically overflowed.
"Er, hello Liz," he answered hesitantly, "what's up?"
"What I need," she replied, deliberately slowly and holding his attention with her unblinking eyes, "is a big strong lad to give me a hand with a little something."
"I, er, I don't know," said Nicky, faltering, "me mam'll have me breakfast ready."