FUCKMOBILE
by
TRISTAN TROTSKY
To turn a respectable profit, sometimes we need to innovate...
Would I lie to you? This is the way I see it. This is the way it happened.
I've always thought of myself primarily as a businessman, an entrepreneur, I'm doing fine, and then -- unexpectedly, totally out of the blue, I discover that I've inherited property in York. The initial inventory is not promising. My distant Aunt had died. In truth, I wasn't even aware that I had a distant Aunt until that moment, until the legal documentation came through. I catch the high-speed rail-link north, watch the scenery zip past the window. Then a cab out to the address. In every outward respect it's a detached house set back off the road beyond the curve of a leafy drive. It's a little tired, needs some renovation.
It's only then that I realise the exact nature of the property into which I've come into possession, I've inherited a boutique brothel! But that also means I have overheads and expenses to consider. I have to be concerned about cashflow efficiency. Maybe York is not a good base for such an enterprise?, there's the tourist trade -- when the harassed husband can slip away from the Jorvik cultural excursions for forty-five minutes to desperately satisfy his more urgent physical cravings to cum in a warm wet pussy, there are group Stag-nights to be entertained with a group-fuck, and a certain regular clientele, usually old guys who have their favourite sluts.
There are three girls in residence, plus a Sissy maid who looks after the cleaning and catering duties. To be honest, s/he's not a very convincing crossdresser, with all the feminine charms of Tim Healy in TVs 'Benidorm' sitcom, but Marilyn is useful to have around when a blocked pipe needs unblocking, or when a client gets abusive and needs forcefully ejecting. Then there's Titania, a well-upholstered fit fifty-plus in every sense. Past her prime as a marketable asset, but she comes as part of the package.
Then there's Gladys who specialises in the kind of dominatrix games which provide a predictably regular, if unspectacular income. I could never get my head around its undeniable attractions, but she explains that most of her 'gentlemen' are in powerful professions, lawyers or magistrates who deal hard and sometimes cruel judgements as part of their normal working day, so the ritual boot-kissing mild-flagellation 'punishments' she inflicts provide a kind of appropriate psychological balance. She has converted the cellar into a black vinyl-lined dungeon with all manner of fearsome racks, stocks, canes and whips that scare the life out of me! Lastly there's the third 'girl', Vicky, who -- alone of the trio, offers what seems to me a viable proposition. An impressively generous figure with an outgoing attitude to match.
There's a compact groundfloor flat with a conservatory overlooking the unkempt garden. My distant Aunt had enjoyed a long and comfortable residence here as Madam, a commercial proposition that I -- as her sole surviving relative, now assume. There's a stash of wine. Not good wine, but palatable. I do enjoy my creature comforts.
Naturally, as owner/manager, I enjoy the bonus of my morning blowjob each and every day, this comes as a non-negotiable condition. It's good to place these things on a firm basis. And, in fact, it's Vicky who first suggests that I'm stressed, I'm under pressure, that I need the kind of therapeutic release that only a good blowjob can bring. Her prominent nipples stand out from the thin material of her blouse, making her argument difficult to refute. While she's talking, with a teasing expression playing around her lips, she reaches down to unzip me and slides her fingers inside my flies. Finding my cock.
And, I guess that, after that first time, it just becomes part of our morning ritual. I tell Vicky 'doing this doesn't earn you any special privileges. You might be a whore, but you are MY whore... my cock always has first claim on you. I want to see the craving in your eyes every time you see it. I want your entire slutty body radiating pleasure. So, before you cater to the other clientele, you suck my cock. That goes without saying... and if I choose to cum on your face instead of down your whore's throat, you don't wipe it, you wear it with pride as proof of my ownership during the regular functions of your day until it dries naturally. That way, you'll taste my spunk all day, regardless of whoever else fucks you.'
It's difficult for her to smile acceptance with a mouthful of my cock, but she seems to manage it.
Sometimes I talk with Titania, whose well-fucked pussy has been enjoying the benefits of this game for some considerable time. I'm curious about my Aunt, and she fills in the details for me from her store of memories. 'She was in many ways a severe and straightlaced lady' she confides in a gossipy way. Titania has a huge décolletage that sways and wobbles as she gets comfortable on the lounge sofa, the better to regale me with past histories. 'Your aunt would go to church service every Sunday without fail. She was a true god-fearing woman. The priest would visit us here, once in a while, but he never... shall I say, partook of the available benefits. Maybe he preferred pretty boys? We used to joke that instead of 'Playboy' he liked the nude centrefold of 'Choirboy' magazine. He would sit here in the plush lounge with the faded flock wallpaper decorated in pale mauve peacocks, he'd nibble at the cucumber-&-watercress sandwich that your Aunt prepared for him, his eyes fearful-wide as he sees us scantily-clad girls leading the gentlemen upstairs to fuck them.' She laughs in a way that has her huge breasts swaying in a way that must surely register on someone's seismic printouts.
Once begun, the stories just flow in a torrent. 'It was your Aunt's idea to host Swingers Weekends. That was a lot of fun. It cost participating couples £20 in those days, single women got in free, single guys would have to pay top wack. And soon there were naked bodies everywhichway you look. There were threesomes, foursomes and more-some's, and a little clean-up submissive offering his mouth and tongue to all the freshly-fucked women. There was a big bowl of condoms on the coffee table, but no-one seemed to use them, they preferred bareback. Two tied-up naked women were crouched on all fours side-by-side with hoods over their heads, one has 'arse' written in felt-tip on her bum-cheeks, the other has 'cunt', indicating her preference, although all the gentlemen don't always use the correct hole, and others switch their cocks from one hole to the other in a quite indiscriminate way, ignoring the muffled protests from within the enveloping hoods!
'In the bathroom there are people of all genders pissing and getting pissed on, loving the sluice of those warm jets. There are men licking pussies and women sucking cocks, then women licking pussies and men sucking cocks in all manner of different combinations. Women strapped up and strapped down, spread-eagled for full access, there are men in bondage being led around by chains attached to their cocks... There isn't really much for us inhouse girls to do, because there's more than enough available slut-pussy to go round. One man joins a train of guy's queueing up to gangfuck a woman doggy-style, but when he eventually reaches the front of the queue, he realises that it's his own wife! She hisses 'don't make a scene, don't spoilt it, just fuck me quick then make way for the next cock!'
I ask Titania about the punters she has to deal with. 'Most of them are fine' she concedes. 'Most of them are just sad wistful little men, with empty lives, lacking what they need. They come here to be de-spunked. It's as simple as that. Some others can be a pain. The ones who like to brag and play rough. They say 'my cock goes all the way down your throat until you gag. You take my cock, every inch of it.' As though they're so well-hung that I can't take it. And I'm thinking, OK, Mr microdick, I've taken bigger, longer and thicker than you without pausing for breath.' She's a wonderful source of dirty anecdotes is Titania.
But there are hard realities to deal with. Logistically, I simply can't afford to have unfucked pussies sitting around drinking coffee and watching daytime Soaps as they wait for the next punter to ring to bell. I become aware that there are other cash-pussy whores out there around the block who are taking punter's-money that should rightfully be mine. Some are just bored housewives supplementing their benefits with a little casual whoring. But I'm a businessman, an entrepreneur. I hate to see wasting potential, we need more. I have overheads and expenses to consider. We need to innovate. So we have a round-table discussion, and this is what I suggest.
Marilyn suggests an idea for a raffle. You can buy pads of tickets at the local stationery store. We price the tickets at £5 each... no, that's too high, it will discourage potential purchasers... so we'll say £1 each, we sell fifty tickets, that still results in an acceptable turnover. The two runners-up get their cocks sucked. The winning ticket gets the full all-inclusive fuck.
Meanwhile, I'm working on other options that I outline in detail. I suggest a few gimmicks to maximise potential, a group discount that enables four punters to fuck for the price of three, and a loyalty card for regular users, so that they get... say, every fifth fuck free. It's important to use your available sluts at every opportunity, an idle unfucked cunt is generating no income. Sometimes the bitches may complain. But this is basic economics.
Titania suggests maybe a variation of the glory-hole idea, with the whore strapped inside the box, but with her ass sticking out so that anonymous clients can take her from behind while she deals orally with the hungry cocks that get shoved through the hole in front of her. Is that raw enough? She obviously won't be able to see the owners of the cocks fucking her, but they pay the tariff, so they take the choice...
There's a Cup-Final showing on the big-screen at the pub round the corner. There'll be at least thirty guys there in the mood to celebrate. So, Vicky will wear her collar and sluttiest gear beneath only a long coat. I'll lead her in on the leash, and I announce a free sample fuck in a hole of their choice, as an introductory offer. Most of them will probably want cunt, a lot will want to fuck her mouth, and others will go for her arse... they're the ones with partners who refuse to do anal, but that will only entice them all the more to come back later ready and willing to pay next time. Seems the perfect arrangement. She gets all her holes filled as I get ready to count the cash. Vicky voices no objections to the plan.
But the best idea is this one. This is what we can do. We get a white Transit van, a fuckmobile, we haul two scuzzy mattresses into the back, fill it with sluts, and go to Chapeltown, the red-light district of Leeds, in order to carry out business there. Of course, the whores who already work those streets aren't going to appreciate the competition, but this sleaze-trade has no time for equal opportunities.
Titania claims she's on her last period -- again, but she gives good head, she can handle the blowjob trade. Vicky has the kind of tits that guys love, and she's a good three-hole cum-slut. She's such a bad girl I know she'll be ideal for this project. And it seems like the perfect arrangement. If the punters won't come for the cunt, we take the cunt to the punters. And I confess, I would love to watch Vicky getting gangfucked. She always takes cock exactly as a good whore should. She'll be covered in spunk by the time we've done... She'll be sore afterwards, for sure, but she can take multiple cocks. And we can use Marilyn, the Sissy maid to drive the fuckmobile, act as fluffer for limp cocks, and do the post-gangbang clean-ups.
