Audreys Whore

"Catherine, Helen, Evelyn, Camille..." My boss ticked each name off a finger. She glanced at the sheet in her hand. "Where's the new client?"

My heels clicked against the marble floor as I hurried to keep up with her. She was tall woman with a long stride, and though balancing on four inches of stilettos made it nearly impossible to keep up with her, at Audrey's the dress code was clear and rigidly enforced: heels a minimum of three inches, skirts no longer than mid-thigh, blouses form fitting and three buttons undone. I shuffled through the folders in the crook of my arm. "Jessica Franks." I said as I extracted a thin folder and held it out to her. "Forty one, wife to congressman Franks."

Audrey took the folder without looking up. "Preference for blonde or brunette hair, DD cup, and Asians." She pursed her lips. "At least she's not looking for all of them in one package. What aren't we?"

"A circus, ma'am." We passed the showroom floor, Kelly and Mary on display below, clip-clopping back and forth on their heels, modeling cocktail dresses for a customer reclined in a leather waiting chair. It would probably take her a half hour and a dozen more dresses to decide which of the two of them she wanted to take to the oversized, soundproof rooms along the right side of the store.

"Always the same. Give me a whore, make me a goddess." She said as I stepped ahead of her to open her office door. "Coffee." She said, seating herself behind her desk.

The pot I'd put on an hour ago was still hot. She accepted a cup, a slim frown turning her rouge lips. "Who's in the double to triple D range?"

"Jules is, I believe." I moved to the file drawer and knelt smoothly, only years of practice keeping me from wobbling and falling in my heels and skirt. Though I couldn't see her, I could feel my boss's eyes on me as I shuffled through the drawer. Professionalism and precision Audrey demanded in all things. It was why I'd been picked to leave the floor nine months ago and work as her assistant when Amber spilled coffee on her. I found the folder I was looking for and rose. "What is the most important rule?" Audrey asked as she accepted the folder.

"Image first, ma'am. Image always."

"If that's true," she flipped through the folder, "then that nipple is certainly more than enough."

My heart skipped a beat as I glanced down. At some point when I knelt the low cut of my blouse had slipped down and one of my nipples had popped out. I slipped it back in. "I'm so sorry, ma'am, I didn't-"

She quelled my apology with a long look, a silent reprimand, before turning her eyes back to the folder. "Have Jules ready on Thursday. Red pushup, pearl necklace, fur coat."

There came a knock from the door. My boss looked up. "What now?" She raised her voice. "Come in."

The door swung open to reveal the downstairs teller, a statuesque brunette named Elizabeth. "I'm sorry to bother you ma'am, but she insisted-"

"Oh, don't apologize. The girl's a dear and I didn't give her a chance." From behind Elizabeth sauntered a tall woman with bleached blond curls. "Audrey and I are old friends. Aren't we?"

"Dina." My boss sighed and closed the folder with a snap. "You're looking well."

"The wonders of Botox, hon." Dina took the seat in front of the desk without asking and crossed one leg over the other, designer purse resting on her lap. Her voice had a throaty, faux little girl quality to it. "You really should think about it. It was easier then when I got my tits done and makes you feel ten years younger."

Audrey's eyes moved to Elizabeth in lazy dismissal. Dina's head turned to follow as Elizabeth closed the door. "I swear I'll never know how you keep your hands to yourself, hon. If it was me running this place I'd never get any work done."

Audrey smiled and sipped her coffee. "You learn."

"Not me. I'd spend all day leaned back in that chair with my legs in the air." Dina turned back to face her. "Anyway, I've got a favor to ask."

Audrey handed me the folder. "You really should make appointments."

"Oh, you know I'm not picky, hon. That hot little black number you fixed me up with last time was just what I needed." She made a smacking noise with her lips. "That girl's tongue was heaven. What was her name? Shawnton? Shaetae?"

"Shawntae." I supplied.

Dina smiled up at me. I tried to not to let the repulsion I felt onto my face. She might have had Botox, but lines still showed at the corner of her eyes and the breasts that bulged from her blouse were round and fake as water balloons. You're off the showroom, I reminded myself. Coffee and folders and names. That was what I did now. Her tongue played between her lips. "Isn't she the same one I saw you with last time? You don't usually keep them this long."

"I must be losing my touch." My boss's eyes behind her coffee cup were unreadable. "You needed a favor?"

"Nothing fancy." Dina primped her curls with a hand. "My daughter's been in a funk lately. Some drama with a boy about some other girl. Or some other boy. You can never tell with kids today. She's been sulking around the house ever since she came back for break."

Audrey laid down her cup. "You know we have rules about non-members."

"She won't be a problem." Dina made a dismissive gesture with a manicured hand. "I just thought I'd do something different than the normal mani-pedi, show her how the old lady enjoys herself."

Audrey shook her head. "We're a little understaffed at the moment." She motioned for me to get her the schedule. "Shawntae won't be available until six. We have Kelly on the floor right now..."

"Oh, you don't have to go to that much trouble, hon. What about her?"

It took me a moment to realize she was talking about me. Audrey glanced up disapprovingly as I fumbled to hand her the schedule. She accepted it and flipped it open, looked it over with a raised eyebrow. "She's my assistant."

"You can't spare her an hour or two?" Dina's hand flashed out, closing around my wrist and yanking me towards her. My heels snagged on the carpet and I tumbled into her lap. She reached up and raked the hair from my face with a manicured talon. "Look at this pretty face. You're wasting it up here."

Her other hand curved along the inside of my thigh, nails pricking pale skin as she stroked it. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, every muscle in me yelling to push her hand away. Audrey would stop this. She would say no. I was her assistant, a good one. I just had to be still.

Audrey sighed and looked up. Her eyes focused on Dina, then slid to my blouse, and I realized with a horrible sinking sensation that my nipple must have poked out again. She turned back to the schedule without a word. "Just have her back by four."

"Ma'am," the words stuck in my throat. "Ma'am, I-"

Her head whipped back up and whatever I would have said died in my throat. "Go get ready." Her voice was flat. "Room three."

Dina smiled and pushed me to my feet. "Keep the secretary look, but lose the thong, sweetie. And put on some lipstick. I want to see how far you can smear it down my strap on."

Neither of them paid me any more attention as I moved in a daze to the door and closed it carefully behind me. The world seemed unreal I clip clopped down the hall and the stairs connecting it to the first floor. This had to be a test.

The dressing room was empty except for Kelly, who was perched on the end of a stool. She was dressed in a white business jacket split down the front in a deep V that reached her navel. She wore only a black bra beneath, custom made to contain the bulge of her triple F's. Audrey liked being able to offer a variety to clientele, and beside Jules, most of the rest of the girls were in a more reasonable cup range. It had taken two operations to inflate Kelly's to their current size.

She looked up as the door opened, a deer caught in the headlights. "I needed to touch up." She blurted. "My eyeliner it, it smudged. I just needed to reapply it."

I nodded without meeting her eye and I crossed to one of the unused cubicles. I took a seat in front of the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, red blouse tucked into a black skirt, tits pushed up and high. Keep the secretary look, she had said.

"You won't tell her, will you?" Kelly's voice had dropped to a whisper. She was still looking at me, eyes wide and pleading. "Please? Elizabeth is on the floor. I'll be back on in a minute. I just needed to catch my breathe. I swear it won't happen again."

In the corner of the counter sat a stick of lipstick. I reached for it and puckered my lips without answering. Kelly opened her mouth. Closed it. "What are you doing?" She finally asked.

The lipstick ran smooth and red along my lips. "She wants me in room three."

"What for?" Kelly scrunched her forehead. Her hand flew to her mouth as understanding dawned on her. "Oh. Oh. I thought, you're her assistant, though. What happened?"

"Nothing." I finished with the lipstick. My hands trembled as I brought a folded tissue to my mouth and pressed my lips against it. I looked down at the red crescent on white. "Nothing happened."

I rose, and for a moment I realized how ridiculous we must have both looked in our high heels and low cut business clothes, dress up barbies for some teenage boy's wet dream. God. How had this happened? How had I let this happen? How had this become my life?

Couldn't think about that. Not now. Keep the secretary look, she had said. Get ready, she had said. I bent at the waist, hooked my thumbs beneath my thong and slipped it off.

"Here." Kelly held out a bottle of lube. "You'll need it for the, uh..."

I accepted the bottle with a trembling hand, and she gave me a small smile. I nodded and started for the door, heels loud on the floor.

The soundproof rooms were along the opposite side of the store as the dressing room, and the store's mannequins watched without moving as I wound my way toward them, pale plastic under blouses and skirts, dresses and business suits.

In front of room three stood a young woman. She looked younger than me, fresh into college but still with the awkwardness of high school. She didn't bother to look up from her phone as I stopped before her.

"Are you Dina's daughter?" I asked after a moment when she still hadn't looked up.

"Yeah. I am she, or whatever." She looked up long enough to manage boredom and annoyance in the same glance. "You the stylist?"

"Oh, good. You've met." The voice was Dina's. She shooed us into the room along the wall. It had a sofa along the wall with a full size mirror behind it. "You should be nicer to our stylist, Jennifer dear. She's doing us a favor today."

"Yeah, her job. Big favor."

"Sweetie." Dina's voice was sickly sweet. Fast as a snake she snatched Jennifer's phone from her hands. "Don't be a smart ass."

"Wha-?" Jennifer grabbed for the phone and missed. "What the hell, ma?"

Dina looked to me. Her eyes flicked from the bottle of lube up to my face and she raised a suggestive eyebrow before turning back to her daughter. "We've talked about this, hon."

"Jesus, you're always doing this, mom. I hate going places with you, you're such a bitch..." Jennifer's voice dropped off. "What... what is she doing?"

My fingers were cold, but the lube was chemical warm on my fingers as I squeezed it on to them and reached under my skirt. My breath hitched as I slid them between my legs and worked the lube into the folds of my pussy. God. Did they have to be watching me?

Dina tapped Jennifer's chin with her phone. "Paying attention now?"

"What is she doing?" Though she wore a horrified expression Jennifer couldn't seem to take her eyes off me. "Did you get a stripper or something?"

A smirk tugged at Dina's mouth. "I told you she was going to be doing us a favor, hon." She snapped her fingers. "Roll up that skirt. Your ass needs to be ready too."

Fingers slick with lube, I peeled away my skirt, cold air pricking at the suddenly exposed skin as I squeezed lube onto my fingers and reached behind me. My eyes pricked as I slid the lube up and down the crack of my ass. In the air conditioned cold my skin was hypersensitive, and I found myself pushing back against the slide of my fingers. I dipped my middle finger and circled the pucker of my asshole, a shameful pant escaping my lips as I did. Please. I couldn't be turned on. Not now. Not by this.

My finger continued to probe my asshole, tip pressing against the tight ring of muscle, and I couldn't stop the fully body shiver that rolled over me. Jennifer looked down at me and I caught her gaze, eyes silently pleading. She had to know this wasn't real. It was just for show. She had to know that, didn't she?

"What a pretty little asshole." Dina's purse jangled as she reached into it and pulled out a strap on, black and veiny shaft jutting upwards. She thrust the purse into her daughter's hands. "Hold this."

Jennifer stepped back from Dina. "What the fuck are you doing, mom? I don't want to watch some nasty stripper play with herself."

"You can wait outside if you want, hon." Dina stepped out of her skirt. Underneath she wore a black thong. Her eyes moved lazily up my bent form and the front of the thong bulged as she slipped a hand under it, rubbed her mound in short, brusque motions as she watched me finger my ass. "But I'm going to bang the shit out of this bitch."

The strap on went on over the thong, mushroom head bobbing like a fishing rod as she tightened the straps, and her heels clicked as she circled behind me. She cut an absurd figure in the mirror, fake tits pushed together under a silk blouse, black cock bouncing above long, bare legs ending in designer heels. I could see myself in the mirror too: black business skirt shoved tight up around my waist, tits popping out of my red blouse, a secretary bent over and begging to be fucked by her boss.

I gasped as she slapped my ass and grabbed it in the palm of her hand, index and middle finger sliding between my lube slicked cheeks. Her finger slid roughly up and down my asshole, the tip of her middle finger probing the tightness carelessly. "Spread your legs, sweetheart." She swatted my ass again. "Let my little girl see your cute little cunt hole before I fuck it wide."

Tears stung at my eyes, but I did as she said, lowering my eyes to avoid Jennifer's gaze as I spread my legs wider until they formed an A with Dina's hand at the apex. She would leave, wouldn't she? But her feet didn't move from view as Dina slapped my ass hard enough to leave the imprint of her palm stinging and red on it and kneaded it approvingly: a good slice of whore meat "You're twitchy as a hare. Don't worry though, I don't bite, hon." Her hips ground into my ass. She jerked them, bouncing her strap on up against my pussy, smacking it once, twice, three times. Her hand left my ass, and I felt her use it to position the tip of the strap on against my pussy. It felt huge, and I gasped as she began to push in. It was too big. She had to know that.

"Don't touch it," she barked, as my hands instinctively reached between my legs. They fluttered helplessly as she fed the full length of it inch by agonizing inch into me. When it was all the way in she leaned forward, breath hot against my ear. "I don't bite. I just fuck."

She did then, fucked me hard, fucked me with long thrusts that pulled the fake cock almost all the way out before slamming it back in again and again. Thrust, shove, thrust, shove. She fucked me relentlessly, not like some women who didn't know how to use a strap on, but with the savagery of a professional, hands fisted on my ass cheeks, holding them open as a receptacle for her cock. Her cock stretched me, filled me with its white hot length, pushed every thought from my head. With it in me there wasn't room for anything else. Through my sweat lank hair I could see Jennifer staring down at me, eyes wide. I whimpered again, knowing how I looked to her, bent over and used, fucked like a ragdoll. Had she ever seen anything so pathetic before? A moaning and whimpering little slut loving the cock in her. No, hating it. Hating it filling her, stretching her, violating her. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I'd been a good secretary. I'd done everything right. I'd clip clopped in heels and filed papers and made coffee and never made any mistakes.

"Is she groaning?" Jennifer had circled around so she could see better. Her expression had shifted from horror to morbid curiosity. "Is she a hooker?"

Dina laughed, a breathless little giggle. She slowed for a second, and I convulsed as her thumbnail hooked my asshole. "Oh, she's more than that. Aren't you, sweetheart?"

I whimpered, unable to think coherently. With one fluid movement Dina fisted her fingers in my hair and yanked my head back so her mouth was close enough to my ear for me to hear the saw of her breath. Her tits pushed hard and round against my back as she closed her other hand around my throat, taloned nails digging into my windpipe. "Moan for my girl, sweetheart," she cooed. "Let her know how much you love taking my cock in your dumb little cunt."

I tried to hold in, I did. But I couldn't, not with her cock filling me and her breath panting in my ear, body betraying me as a long, low sound of abject need ripped itself from me. I moaned for her, moaned like a desperate little bitch in heat, unable to hold it in any longer.

"You see, honey." Dina's voice was sickly sweet. "She's a good little bitch."

Jennifer wrinkled her nose. "And she'll really do whatever you want?"

I moaned again, hating the sound, hating the way my pussy throbbed, wanting, craving attention, craving Dina's hand on it, teasing my clit, playing with it. Jennifer nodded slowly, nose still wrinkled in disgust as she looked at me. "Fuck this." She said, as if finally making up her mind. With a click she flipped open her phone. "Say cheese."

Click-click, click-click, the phone went as her mother went back to work, hips grinding as she fucked me, the fist in my hair and hand choking me slamming me down to meet the thrusts of her cock. She fucked my whole body, made my body a sheathe for her cock as she stamped her ownership into my cunt. Her hand left my throat to reach down and pull my tits free. I reached up to grab them before they could spill out of my blouse, but Dina's hand slapped mine away. "Make sure to get a shot of these." She told her daughter as her taloned fingers curled around my throat again in a tight, commanding grip. She yanked my head further back, arching my spine. "Stick out your tits," she snapped. "Give my girl a good show."

With my head wrenched back all I could see was the roof, but I could still hear the click of her daughter's phone as it snapped away. Shame puddled in my stomach. Would Jennifer look at these later? Would she show her friends? Would they crowd around her phone to point and laugh at the dumb secretary whore with the bouncing tits, globes of flesh heaving, jiggling absurdly, nipples pink and hard and straining for someone to pinch and twist and bite them.

I moaned against the cage around my throat. My hands clutched at the remains of my blouse just below my tits, offering them up to Jennifer's phone just as Dina had ordered, but unable to reach up and pinch my nipples as I so desperately wanted to. In the edge of my vision Jennifer snapped shot after shot. Please, I silently pleaded. You can take pictures of me, you can laugh at me, you can call me a whore, but please let me play with my nipples. Please, I'll do anything, I'll pant and slobber and moan while you take pictures. Have your friends laugh at me, joke and sneer at the stupid little whore, just let me touch them.

Jennifer moved in front of me. I groaned incoherently at the slide of Dina's cock, filling me, spine arched to take every inch of it. My chest jutted out, tits straining. I felt a whisper of air, and yelped as Jennifer pinched one of my nipples between her fingers. She rolled it between them as though she were curious what it was made of. She twisted, white hot pain flashing through me as she did, and pinched it between her nails. I whimpered, body shuddering. Yes. Please. Please. Make it hurt. I'm your bitch, I'm your slut. Show me my place. It's all I'm worth.