George And The Debt Pt 04

Pager Update : George has been sissified and his wardrobe has been changed. She's now Georgina, her clothes are all feminine, and she sleeps in the spare room. Debs is getting a different punter each evening at 10pm who stays overnight and expects enthusiastic sex. Chrissy has seen her friend Abi's father fucking a street prostitute and is still waiting, nervously, to be fucked by Casino Owner Anton. : Update Ends

During the next few days Debs helped Georgina to tidy away her clothes, learn to put together a good ensemble, and - the most difficult task - learn to walk in high heels. Georgina tottered around the house and eventually became competent enough for Debs to walk with her to the shops and back. Nobody recognized her as George, Debs' mild mannered husband. Georgina wondered if this was always the case, that the mild mannered didn't register on people's memories. Like Superman when he put on a suit and glasses and became Clark Kent, merging into the background. Chrissy was initially appalled at the changes in her father but, surprisingly quickly, got used to her new 'dad', even slipping up and calling him mum at one point.

Finally Debs got a night off. A good thing since although most of the men who had visited were ordinary men with ordinary needs and ordinary stamina, the last one had kept her up all night with his tantric lovemaking.

Georgina's pager read...

Red Health Clinic, Main Street, 1pm.

Debs' pager read...

Be home during the afternoon. You will be witness to your daughter working for me.

And Chrissy's pager read...

Stay at home today. You will be visited.

Georgina set off for her clinic appointment with plenty of time to spare leaving Debs and Chrissy alone. When the doorbell went Debs answered it. To her delight it was Anton with a new bodyguard. He was a huge black man that Anton introduced as Delroy. Chrissy looked at Delroy with undisguised terror. This was Abi's father, and she knew what he could do to a young girl.

Anton had his usual coffee but Delroy demanded a rum, which luckily Debs could provide. A bottle, given them for Christmas a few years back, was found at the back of a cupboard. It hadn't been touched since neither she nor... Georgina... liked rum. They settled in the lounge with Delroy in an armchair and Anton sharing the sofa with Chrissy. He had a large shoulder bag that he put to one side. Debs stood near Anton as if she wanted to be close to him, and to her daughter.

"Hello Chrissy," said Anton, putting his hand on her knee. "Let me just get your mum organised and then we'll have a chat."

"Oh, okay," muttered Chrissy, looking at the floor, trying not to look into Anton's eyes.

"Debbie," said Anton. "Take your clothes off."

Chrissy watched her mother obediently strip and stand stark naked in front of Anton. To the teen's eye her mother looked very excited and she noticed that her mother's hand had wandered to her crotch and was lightly touching herself.

"Now," continued Anton. "Give Delroy a blow job please. He needs lots of sex to keep him happy."

Debbie marched over to Delroy and knelt before him. He parted his legs and Chrissy watched her mother unzip his trousers and pull his cock into view. Chrissy gave a gasp and covered her mouth as she saw her mother stoop to kiss and lick the enormous fat cock.

"Look at me," said Anton. "I understand it can be upsetting to see your mother with someone not her husband, but look away. Look at me. You can, and will, watch your mother later."

Chrissy dragged her eyes away from her mother who had moved on to sucking the fat head of Delroy's cock. She found herself looking straight into Anton's grey eyes, and a sparkling coin in his hand. Then she realised it wasn't a coin, it was a casino chip, made from some sort of bright white metal.

"A silver five thousand," Anton explained. "One of the casino tokens. I carry one with me as a good luck token."

"It's pretty," agreed Chrissy. "Is it really lucky?"

"We will see," replied Anton. "Look at it, concentrate on it, and relax."

He spun the token between his fingers like a stage magician doing a concealing and revealing trick and Chrissy watched the light sparkle from it. It dazzled her senses.

"Watch closely," said Anton, his voice deep and rich. "Keep your eyes on it. Relax. Listen to my voice and relax. You're feeling very calm and sleepy."

Chrissy thought it was easy to listen to this voice, it was wonderful and she was feeling more relaxed than she'd felt for ages. She sat and watched the token and listened... and listened... and listened. At some point Anton told her to hear only his voice and the grunts from Delroy, and moans from her mother, faded into the background. Then everything seemed to stop and she sat... waiting... waiting.

"Chrissy," said Anton, quietly. "Do you know what a streetwalker is?"

"Yes," she said. Her own voice sounded as if it was coming from miles away. "She's a sex worker who sells sex on the street, or perhaps in a car, or a walk-up flat. I've seen one or two down by the canal."

"Yes Chrissy, quite right," said Anton. "You are a clever girl. So, if you were a streetwalker, what special name would you choose?"

Chrissy thought. It seemed a perfectly innocent request. And she was feeling so warm, so relaxed, so happy that Anton had called her a clever girl. She remembered the girl that she'd seen at Abi's house being roughly fucked by Abi's father. The girl had tattoos, and between her shoulders was a tattoo of a pair of wings.

"Angel," said Chrissy. "That would be a nice name."

"Thank you Chrissy," said Anton. "You are going deeper now. More and more relaxed. Deeper and deeper. Now listen to me. Are you listening?"

"Yes Anton," said Chrissy. She was now floating like someone in one of those sensory deprivation tanks. Nothing existed except Anton's voice.

"In a moment I am going to wake you but I want you to remember something," said Anton. "When you awake, if someone taps you twice on the left shoulder like this..."

Anton tapped Chrissy on her shoulder, two taps in rapid succession.

"... you will become Angel the Streetwalker. You will think like her, act like her, do all the things she would do. In every way. You will be Angel until someone taps you three times on the right shoulder, like this. Then you will become Chrissy again..."

Anton tapped her three times, three rapid taps, on the other shoulder.

"... and you will sleep for a short time. And, when you wake up, you will remember nothing of your actions as Angel. Nothing at all."

Chrissy's mind stored this information away in a deep dark place in her mind. Then she felt she was rising, coming up from her sleep, rising from what felt like a warm, safe, unlit cavern, listening to Anton saying, "five, four, three, two, one... "

She opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was her mother taking Delroy's cock deep into her mouth. She was plunging her head up and down in an energetic manner.

Anton put the shoulder bag into Chrissy's hands, saying, "Change into these, please. You can do it here, if you want."

"Sorry, no," said Chrissy, embarrassed beyond anything that had happened to her before this disconcerting meeting with her new employer. She felt that it was impossible to change in front of Anton, in full view of Abi's father, but most distressing of all, in sight of her own mother who was ramming Delroy's cock into her mouth and slobbering on it as if it was the most tasty thing she'd ever eaten.

She ran upstairs and threw the bag onto her bed. Then she quickly stripped, worried that Anton might follow her, angry at her refusal. She had best do this quickly, she thought. Naked, she poured the contents of the bag onto her bed and spread them out. They were second hand items, quite a contrast with what had come out of the parcels for her dad Georgina, and they were grubby. They looked like they were second hand items from a poor quality charity shop.

She put on fishnet stockings that had ladders in them, well more like gaping holes. Then the scuffed high heel shoes that had originally been black. A short, very short, wrap-around skirt in a tartan pattern with a shiny black faux-leather belt followed. And a top with a plunging neckline designed to give a sideways glimpse of a breast, the sort of thing slender celebrities wore on the red carpet, but much cheaper. Finally she added the sort of fur bolero jacket. Perhaps supposed to be a bit of protection from a cold breeze. Chrissy caught a glimpse of herself in her mirror. She looked quite the whore, which was presumably the intention.

Descending the stairs again she found, to her relief, that her mum was no longer sucking Delroy's cock. She was now sat on Delroy's lap, had a strained look on her face, and was panting. A succession of sharp rapid breaths. It was only when her mother lifted herself slightly that Chrissy understood why. Her mother was impaled on Delroy's thick, long, cock. It stuck out of his jeans like a jet black tower that a princess might be trapped in a room at the very top. Chrissy wondered if that was why so many fairy tales involved princesses and towers. Were they a metaphor for what was happening to her mother? She was certainly impaled on the top of a flesh tower in need of a knight in shining armour to rescue her.

Turning away from the disturbing sight of her mother so completely possessed by a man's cock she presented herself to Anton. He held his hand up and made a sign that clearly meant she should rotate herself and show him the costume from every angle. She did so and saw Anton grin with approval. He crooked his finger and gestured for her to approach. She bent over, acutely aware that he could see her breasts inside her top. Then he reached out and tapped her left shoulder, twice.

Angel looked around. She was in her usual stomping ground near the canal. It was a warm afternoon and Grace Street was a good patch with few other girls in competition. A guy walking his dog on the canal towpath drew her eye but he didn't look the type to go for her services. Down towards the old mill apartments there was a much better prospect. A large saloon car was being driven slowly up the street towards her, the driver glancing from side to side as if hunting something. She set off towards it, doing her best hip sway. She knew exactly what he was hunting for, and that she was the girl who could provide it.

Debs watched her daughter from the vantage point of Delroy's lap. His cock was deep inside her and his left arm was curled around her waist, holding her in place. His right hand was delving between her thighs remorselessly working her clit. The combination of sensory overload from cunt and clit made it hard to concentrate on what was happening to her daughter.

Chrissy had come downstairs in clothes more suited to a street prostitute than a college student. Anton clearly liked the idea of a whore. The unusual thing was that, after he had tapped her shoulder, Chrissy was now acting like a girl off the streets. After posing with her bottom stuck out for a minute, looking about her, she was now stalking around the living room. She was swinging her hips and pretending to chew gum, getting closer and closer to Anton on the sofa. Then she rested her hands on the arm of the sofa and bent down, giving him a good look inside her top at her perky little breasts.

Angel approached the car and it obligingly slowed and stopped. The window slid down with an electric hum. The man inside was middle aged and dressed in a suit. He looked like a prosperous businessman. Good, she thought, might get more than just a quick blow and go here. This is a guy who can afford an hour, easy, perhaps even an overnight.

"Have you got the time, mister," she bent low to look in the car window and give him a good view of her tits. They were good tits, still pert and unmarked, the sort of tits that might remind him of girls in his youth. Nostalgia was a powerful draw for men. Make him feel young again and he might give a tip, or even better, come back again.

Debs watched as her daughter leaned over the arm of the sofa and gave her chest a jiggle. Her little pointed breasts moved enticingly, the prominent nipples rubbing at the loose top. Chrissy ran her tongue over her lips as she delivered the line "Have you got the time, mister?" Anton looked up and replied, "What are you offering?"

Chrissy whispered something which Debs didn't catch because Delroy's fingers were creating delicious feelings in her clit. Then she was cumming, unable to hold back her cries. Her thighs quivered and her legs kicked but Delroy wouldn't let her go, forcing her to look at Anton and Chrissy. Chrissy paid no attention to her mother. All her concentration seemed to be on Anton.

The punter asked what she was offering and Angel thought hard. It was dangerous to solicit for sex, the punter might be a plain clothes policeman trying to catch her, but there were things she could say. And he didn't give her the vibe of a policeman. He felt more like a gangster. She decided to be quite explicit.

"I can give you a quickie in the car, mister," she said. "Or we can do it up against that wall."

She indicated a secluded alleyway a few yards from the car and, to demonstrate her flexibility, she stood up and did a hip swerve that he could see through the window. She bent over again to continue her offers face to face.

"But I have a flat nearby, just down the road, if you fancy an hour with all the trimmings."

"Trimmings?" asked the punter with a smile. Angel felt this was going well, he might be generous. Time to be more explicit in her information.

"Plenty of blow," she said quietly. "You can eat me, cum as many times as you can manage in the hour, anal if you want, and... we can forget the condoms if you prefer it natural."

"Sounds good," said the punter. "Price?"

Angel gave him her price for an hour, then for an hour without condoms. She knew that many clients preferred not to have a rubber getting between them and their girl. Their desire for a bareback experience almost guaranteed extra cash, despite the risks.

"Where's this flat?" asked the punter and Angel pointed at the Mill apartments a few hundred yards down Grace Street. "You're on," he smiled. "One hour, all the trimmings, and no condoms."

Debs was coming down from her orgasm and could see that Chrissy and Anton were talking quietly together. Half way through the conversation her daughter stood up and ground her hips in Anton's face, then bent back over to continue the talk.

Debs saw her daughter put out her hand and Anton play-acting counting something into the palm. If she had to guess what the something was that what were being counted out, it was banknotes. Her daughter stuffed the imaginary notes into her loose top, then put out her hand and Anton got off the sofa. They both walked, hand in hand, in a circuit around the lounge and headed for the stairs. Debs craned to look. Delroy allowed her to turn and watch, but would not let her off his cock, and was still frigging her aggressively.

"Where's he taking her? What's happening?" Debs asked, feeling faint with the stimulation.

"Wha do you tink?" replied Delroy. "Him go get fuck. I'se seen tis before. She tink she whore. She giv him gud fuck."

"Oh God," said Debs. "My poor daughter."

The punter got out of the car and locked it. Angel took his hand, they liked that, made them feel she was a girlfriend. He chatted quietly as they walked the short distance down the road to the apartments. Angel's apartment was on the first floor and she was lucky in that she had her own door from the street. It made it easier for clients to come and go, or should it be cum and go?

She opened the door and there was the narrow flight of stairs up to her apartment. Just a single room with a bed, and a shared bathroom next door, but perfect for her needs. The punter followed her and she closed the doors behind him. The bed was unmade but, in her experience, this was the last thing most men worried about. Some even seemed turned on by evidence of previous punters. Used condom packets and the like. Appealed to their desire to fuck a dirty whore.

She wondered if this punter would ask to use the bathroom. It was in a worse state than her bedroom!

Chrissy took Anton up the stairs and into her bedroom. Debs, craning her neck, was able to watch her daughter for the first few steps, but then lost sight of her. Oh God, she thought, Chrissy's just nineteen - under half Anton's age. Talk about lamb to the slaughter.

"Delroy?" she said.

"Yes'm," he replied, pushing up against her.

"I must see what's happening to Chrissy," she begged.

"Okay Debbie," Delroy replied, standing up. "Watchin' is allas gud. You'll like the show!"

"Uuuugh!" Debs was taken by surprise as Delroy stood up, carrying her with him. The movement rammed his cock deep inside her and, amazingly, his cock took her weight. He grabbed her waist to steady her and then set off up the stairs. Pinned in front of him, her back to his chest, it was a strange journey, each step giving her a pulse of pleasure as his cock moved inside her.

Angel pulled the notes from her top and stuffed them into the cookie jar where she kept her earnings. Some of the other girls, those who had shared this flat when the punter wanted two girls at the same time, affectionately called her Cookie because of this habit. The punter was undressing. He'd taken off his jacket and looked around for an uncluttered space. Angel dragged a dressing gown off one of the chairs and he grunted a thank you before putting his very expensive looking jacket down. Then he started on his tie.

Angel picked up the vintage clockwork alarm clock from her bedside table and, making sure her client could see, she moved the stubby third hand - the alarm hand - of the clock to one hour ahead, and wound the spring that powered the little hammer that struck the bell on top of the clock. It might be a 1950's clock, picked up for a tenner from an antique shop in town, but it worked well enough to wake her up, and time her session with a client.

She'd bought it because once she'd allowed the punter to use his own watch, only to find it had been somehow set to run slowly. One hour had turned into two before she was able to eject him down the stairs and into the street.

She knew she needed to get this rich man feeling randy as quick as possible, before he could comment on her flat, or decide he'd made a mistake. She took her little bolero jacket off and added it to the chaos on the floor. Then removed her top and, her tits jiggling, walked over to the punter.

"What's your name, mister?" she asked. She was under no illusions. Men rarely gave their real names. But it allowed her something to scream later, when she was faking her orgasm.

"Dave," he replied.

"Well... Dave... let's get these off you."

Off came the tie and shirt and Angel pushed her lithe body up against his chest, circling her nipples against him. Her punter responded by putting his hands on her back, crushing her to him, and kissing the nape of her neck. He kissed, nibbled and licked her neck and then gently pulled on her earlobes.

"Oh Dave," Angel said. "That's lovely. Aaaaah."

The punter turned her around and the assault on her neck continued. He cupped her tits and squeezed, quite hard. Angel, who was used to hard sex, tried to relax and gave a long groan. Then one of the punter's hands was fiddling with the belt on her tiny skirt and drawing it out of the loops. Angel, obediently, reached down to slip the fastening and the skirt tumbled to the floor.