Flawed Red Silk Ch 06

Worth More Than This

Josephine tied her small white apron around her clinging black dress. Today’s apron had a pointed lower hem trimmed with lace. Most of her black dresses were similar with small variations in depth of neckline and flare of skirt. She personalised them with the aprons. She had a collection of over a dozen some of which had been presented to her by the customers in the hotel bar. All the aprons had long waist ties that she arranged in a floppy bow to relieve the black of her dresses.

This evening Peter would be coming to stay at the hotel. He was a travelling salesman who covered this area once a fortnight and had done for a couple of years. Somehow Josephine and Peter had become an item. On each visit she spent some of the night in his room and what happened there was now as routine as if they were a married couple who made love the same way every time.

Tonight Josephine felt restless. She had been a barmaid for three years and she didn’t want to be a barmaid forever. She had started working part-time while she was a student to help pay her way but had flunked the end of her first year. The hectic social life and the strain of working as well had impeded her studies. She had failed her end of year examination with a spectacular crash.

Instead of thinking what she should do next the easiest option had been to take on more hours at the hotel and now she was the mainstay of this bar with two other girls working for her. The pay was reasonable and she had her own room rent-free so she could live adequately if not well.

Josephine couldn’t think of a career she really wanted. She didn’t want to return to University. Apart from the distractions that she now thought were childish, she hadn’t enjoyed the study as much as she had expected. It seemed just like school in a different setting when she had wanted the excitement of new discoveries.

But tonight the future stretched ahead as a boring routine. Josephine wouldn’t stay young and pretty for ever. She knew she had a good figure, a standard dress size, flawless skin and an attractive face if not conventionally pretty. Those assets had got her the bar job originally. She didn’t intend to end up as raddled harridan working in a bar pretending to be the attractive beauty she had been once. Even her bed antics with Peter had become a routine. He expected the same actions every time.

Recently she had become friendly with Denise who was a mature student working as a Chambermaid. Denise was only a few years older but had worked after school until she could afford to go to University to study Sociology in the evenings. The hotel work fitted with Denise’s studies. Her room, next to Josephine’s, was in the attics that were too antiquated for paying customers. Josephine and Denise used to talk for hours during the afternoons when they were both free. Talk was cheaper than any other entertainment.

Talking to Denise, who had a clear idea what she wanted to do and how to get there, had unsettled Josephine. She thought that a crisis was approaching in her life that would change her future.

But now she was on duty. Entering the bar she swiftly took in everything. The tables and chairs were neatly arranged, everything was clean, the fire was burning brightly in the grate, and the bar surface gleamed. All was as it should be. Greeting Monica and Sally as they arrived, later than she did as usual but still before their appointed start times, she was pleased that her domain was well organised. Even if she was unsettled she took a pride in her work.

The evening in the bar followed the same pattern as most evenings. The regulars took their places, exchanged the usual banter with the staff, and sipped their drinks to make their money last. Those people staying at the hotel provided the interest. Tonight there was a couple from New Zealand who were on a tour of the UK. Their travellers’ tales of disastrous mishaps were amusing and provoked a general discussion about hotel standards in remote places.

Peter arrived in the bar about ten o’clock. He tried to monopolise Josephine but tonight she was too busy to respond. He would have to wait until the night staff relieved her at midnight.

He waited. He claimed her as if it was his right. Perhaps it was, but only because she had consented so many times before. He hurried her off to his room. Once there he shed his clothes and looked surprised when she didn’t.

“What’s wrong, Josephine?” he asked.

“I don’t feel like it tonight,” she replied.

“Please,” he begged. “I only see you once a fortnight and I look forward to these times with you.”

He rummaged in his suitcase.

“I’ve brought you a special present.”

He showed her the padded envelope and pulled out a beautiful pair of embroidered red silk French Knickers. He held them out for her inspection. Despite herself she was fascinated. They were better than any item of lingerie she had ever seen, even at prices she could never afford. She touched them gently.

“Thank you, Peter, they are lovely, but…”

“But what?”

She thought frantically before using the old excuse she’d never used before.

“It’s the wrong time of the month. I can’t.”

Peter’s face fell. He couldn’t ignore her cycle even if he wanted to.

“Could you do things even if we can’t make love fully?”

“Like what?”

“You could give me a blow-job,” he said bluntly.

Josephine wasn’t keen. She had kissed him down there but had never taken his prick in her mouth, nor had she done that for anyone.

Her reluctance was obvious even to Peter who was sitting on the edge of the bed with an erection. He threw his arms around her and pulled her to him. She resisted but he pulled harder and threw her on to the bed. He rolled her face down and pulled at her apron. The bow untied itself. He knotted it and grabbed at one of her flailing arms. Josephine struggled vainly as he tied first one wrist then the other to the small of her back before finishing with a knot and a bow much smaller than it had been.

Josephine was aroused by his sudden attack. She felt warmth between her legs, as she knew how helpless he had made her. He sat her on his bare legs and kissed her ears, the cheeks, the nape of her neck. She wriggled sensuously as his expert tongue aroused her and began to respond, returning his kisses.

One of Peter’s hands slid down her neckline to her breasts. She moaned gently as he stroked and cupped inside her bra. The other hand went to the back of her head and held her while he kissed. He moved her off his legs to the bed.

The hand at her head began to push her down towards his erection. That broke her enjoyment.

“No, Peter! I won’t!” she cried loudly.

“You will,” he insisted. “I’ll make you. You’ll enjoy it.”

“You won’t,” she retorted. “I’ll bite it off. Stop. Now!”

“OK, OK,” Peter said resignedly. “If you won’t, you won’t.”

Josephine struggled to stand up, unbalanced by her tied arms.

“Undo them,” she ordered.

“No. If you won’t oblige me, I won’t help you.”

Peter sounded very annoyed.

“You can leave as you are.”

He strode over and opened the door.

“Go! Now, or I’ll forget that I’m supposed to be a gentleman.”

Josephine walked towards the door reluctant to leave with her hands tied.

“Wait.” Peter said. “You’ve forgotten something.”

Josephine turned to face him, hoping that he would relent and release her.

“Here,” he said, crushing the French Knickers into the padded bag, “Don’t forget to take your present. It is the last thing you’ll get from me.”

Roughly, he stuffed the bag down the front of her dress. He spun her round and pushed her out of the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Josephine stood in the corridor with tears streaming down her face. She felt rejected and humiliated. How could Peter treat her like this?

She struggled to free her hands but the knots tightened on her wrists. She needed help and a friend. Denise was the only person she could turn to. She walked along the corridor to the lift. Pressing the button to call the lift was impossible until she thought of using her nose. That worked inside the lift as well.

Once in the staff area she was afraid that she would be seen. She crept along until she reached Denise’s door. No light shone through the transom so Denise was probably asleep in bed. There was no one else to help so Josephine kicked gently against the door. After a couple of minutes she kicked harder and was rewarded by a sleepy “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Josephine. I need your help, please.”

“OK, I’m coming.”

The door opened. Denise was wearing pyjamas and only half awake.

“Come in if you must,” she said.

Josephine sighed with relief as she entered Denise’s room.

“Can you untie me, please?”

“What? How? Who?” Denise wasn’t really with it yet.

Josephine turned to show her tied hands.

“Untie me please?”

Denise put a hand on Josephine’s wrists.

“You have got yourself in a pickle, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have.”

“I think I want an explanation.” Stated Denise.

Josephine pushed her bound wrists impatiently at Denise.

“Untie me and I’ll tell you about it.”

“No, Josephine, I don’t think I will. Tell me first and then I’ll think about it. You owe me something for waking me up.”

“Denise!”

“Don’t ‘Denise’ me. You got yourself in this mess. You are helpless. I could take advantage of you, couldn’t I?”

Denise stroked Josephine’s cheek and then kissed her full on the lips. Josephine was startled but didn’t pull back. She returned the kiss, shyly at first, and then with more enthusiasm. Denise responded by throwing her arms around Josephine. She caressed her back then a hand moved to Josephine’s breast.

“What’s this?” she said as she felt the envelope that Peter had thrust into Josephine’s cleavage.

“That’s a present from Peter. He did this to me.”

“Did he? And then he let you go through the hotel like this?”

“I’ve finished with him. He wanted a blowjob tonight and I wouldn’t. I’ve never done one and I didn’t feel like doing one on him. He tied me like this and tried to force me to go down on him. I threatened to bite it off so he stopped and pushed me out.”

“I’m not surprised he pushed you out. Threatening the family jewels is a good way to annoy any man. You’ve been quite a spitfire tonight, haven’t you?”

Josephine laughed.

“I suppose I have. I was bored with Peter. I want to make something of my life and Peter wasn’t part of my future. I didn’t intend to break with him but I couldn’t pretend.”

“What is this present? Can I look?”

Josephine nodded. Denise’s hand went down between her breasts, stroked both of them, and then withdrew holding the padded envelope. Josephine wriggled seductively brushing her breasts against Denise’s hand.

“It’s a pair of French Knickers. Have a look.”

Denise pulled out the knickers. They brightened up the drab room with their fiery shimmering red.

“Wow! These are some present.”

“I know. I almost thought that Peter was worth it if he could give me presents like that.”

“Hang on. There’s a letter inside.” Denise unfolded the letter on headed paper.

“The cheapskate! Look. It was a free gift to him. He didn’t buy them.”

Josephine read the letter Denise was holding.

“I feel better about Peter now. He tried to buy me with a present someone else had given him. I’m worth more than that.”

“Yes you are, Josephine. Lets get you untied.”

Denise struggled with the apron for several minutes before Josephine’s hands were released. Then she rubbed her friend’s bruised wrists until the blood was flowing freely again.

“Josephine, it’s late, you woke me up but I think you need to talk. Do you?”

“Yes, Denise, I do.”

“Then come and share my bed.”

Josephine raised her eyebrows.

“You know I like your body, Josephine. You don’t object when I kiss or cuddle you, do you?”

“No. It’s a big step from that to going to bed with you. Am I ready for that? I’m not sure.”

“How about this then? I’ll talk if you wear the French Knickers and you let me go down on them. That’s much better than going down on a man. Have you ever had someone do it to you?”

“No. I haven’t.”

“Try it. I think you will enjoy it.”

Josephine’s response was to reach for the silk panties and start undressing. Once naked she put her legs in the knickers. She couldn’t avoid a shiver as the cool silk rose up her legs.

“Wow! They feel great. I could get used to this.”

Denise dropped to her knees. Her hands reached out for the red silk and stroked between Josephine’s legs. Josephine responded by throwing her head back and biting her lip. The fingers stroking the silk against her were rousing sensations she hadn’t thought possible. When Denise’s lips pressed the silk into the warm slit Josephine’s hands reached to cradle the head that was giving her so much pleasure.

After a few seconds Josephine pushed the waistband of the knickers down. The red silk slid to her ankles and Denise’s tongue slipped into the depths. Josephine stifled a cry of delight.

They moved to the bed leaving the knickers lying on the floor. Josephine stuffed her mouth with a corner of pillow to stop betraying sounds waking the other staff.

Later, much later, the two friends lay in each other’s arms.

“Well, Jo, what do you want to talk about?”

“Thank you, Denise, for showing me so much.” Josephine replied.

“That wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, was it. We can do that again. You can do it to me.”

“I think I’d like to. But what I wanted to talk about was me, what I should do with my life. I don’t want to be a barmaid forever. It seems like selling my body to get the customers to buy drinks. If I’m selling myself I want a better reward than the sort of pay I’m getting now. My body won’t always be attractive. I’d like to make money from it while it is. I don’t mean being a prostitute. That is what I felt like tonight with Peter. The knickers weren’t an adequate reward for that. No. I’m being unfair. They would have been if he had bought them. I will treasure them for what they are but he didn’t pay for them. He tried to buy me with something that cost him nothing and he couldn’t use. That hurt.”

“That’s a long speech for two o’clock in the morning, Jo.”

“It was, wasn’t it. I want to benefit from my body.”

“Have you ever thought of modelling?”

“No. How could I? There are so many dubious ‘models’ that aren’t really models.”

“I have an idea. One of the women on my course is a photographer. She does shoots for clothing catalogues. The money isn’t great but the work is honest. I could ask her for advice.”

“Would you? That might be a start.”

“I will. Tomorrow, oops no, today. I think we had better get some sleep if we are going to be fit for work. OK?”

“Yes, Denise,” said Josephine, snuggling closer. “good night.”

And so it was that Josephine became a model. At first it was an additional income, then her face was noticed by an agency, and she was able to work as a model full-time. She studied the business and became an agent for other models, helped by Denise who mothered the girls, advised them, guided them, dealt with their spats and tempers and supported Josephine throughout.

Josephine and Denise never made a secret of their relationship, which wasn’t exclusive. They liked men as well but on their own terms. Would they eventually settle down together? I don’t know; neither do they. They just enjoy life as it comes.

The French Knickers are framed on the wall of Josephine’s office as a reminder of the night they changed her life.

NaNoWriMo 2003