Many thanks to those of you who commented and favourited "A Knight's Tale, Part1". I am most appreciative of all feedback. Part 2 of the story is almost finished, and will be published here on Literotica in November 2015.
However, one morning recently, I woke up with a story in my head that demanded to be told, right here, right now. This is it.
Please leave comments, good and bad, as that is the only way authors like me will ever improve!
All characters are over 18 years of age.
Restorative Justice
Date: November 2026
Place: London, England
"Good morning, Harmony Leisure, Jane speaking, how may I help?"
"Good morning. Ummm... may I ask if you have a Debra Jones working for you?"
"Debra Jones... hang on one moment, please, let me check... Hello? Yes, we do. Her working name is "Crystal". She's with us through the Community Payback Scheme."
"Can I make a booking to, er, visit her?"
"Yes, certainly. When were you thinking of?"
"Umm, tomorrow?"
"We open at 11 am through to 3 am."
"Yes, that sounds fine."
"An hour is £200."
"Ah... Okay. It just sounds on the high side.."
"We get half, and half is sent to the Ministry of Justice as part of the Community Payback Scheme."
"Umm, is it okay if there are two of us?"
"Yes, that's absolutely fine, but it will be an extra £100."
"£300? No, that's okay."
"What names shall I book?"
"Susan and Peter."
"All done Madam, booked for an hour, see you tomorrow at 11 am. Any questions, we'll be happy to help when you get here. You can pay by card or by cash."
"Thanks, 'bye."
Click.
"Petey? It's all fixed for tomorrow at 11! Happy Birthday, darling!"
"Oh, that's great, Mummy, thanks!"
Petey is 19 today. He's my only son. He and I live in East Surrey, where I run a small business from our home. It's hard work, but it pays the bills. Petey takes after his late dad, tall, blonde and handsome, but rather shy. He's off to University when he finished his "A" Levels which he's completing at a local college, to read Law. He's a bright lad and will make some girl very happy some day. I could scratch her eyes out already. We have a close relationship and Petey doesn't need any girlfriends yet, not whilst he's got his Mummy to look after him.
The next morning, Petey and I left home a couple of hours early to drive the 80 miles or so to Harmony Leisure, which was situated off a trading estate in Harlesden, an industrial district in West London. The building was a nondescript former hotel, with a neon sign outside and pink curtains. We drove in at 10.50 am and left the car in the small car-park at the rear.
The reception area was somewhat clinical, lit by fluorescent lights and smelled of disinfectant. I didn't really know what to expect and was quite nervous, as was Petey, I think. Fortunately, there were no other customers about.
The pretty, uniformed young woman behind the desk wore a name badge that said her name was "Natasha". She looked eastern European and was drinking a cup of tea when we arrived.
She flashed a purely professional smile.
"Good morning, how can I help?"
"We have a... Um, a booking for 11 am, I stuttered."
"What name, please?"
She clicked the reception desk computer keyboard.
"Sue and Peter".
"Ah, yes. That will be £300, please."
I paid by card.
"That's perfect, thank you, all done. Room 118, first floor, the lift is over in the lobby. Crystal will join you shortly. There's towels in the
en-suite
if you want to shower first."
"Umm, I have a few questions first..."
"No problem, Madam, the Manager will be pleased to help. If you'd care to wait a few moments..?"
She flashed another professional smile and disappeared into the inner office.
Petey and I looked at one another nervously and sat down on the edge of the worn reception sofa.
We didn't speak, but he gripped my hand tightly.
"Oh, God, what am I doing here?" I wondered to myself.
Within a couple of minutes, a middle-aged bottle blonde in a too tight dark blue trouser suit appeared at the door.
"Hi," she said with a friendly smile, "How can I help..?"
"Well." I said, "I've got a few questions - I've never done this before and neither has Petey..."
"That's okay, let's all sit down and have a chat. I'm Sally, the Manager here."
Ten minutes later, Sally showed us up to room 118.
"Here you are" she said. "Remember , if she gives you any trouble, let me know."
Inside, it was clean and functional,rather than luxurious. There was a large double bed, a couple of armchairs, a shower room and a WC. I opened a wardrobe, and after noting the contents with a bit of shock, banged it shut. I sat down on the bed.
"Blimey, Mummy, have you seen this..?"
Petey had opened a bedside cabinet and was holding up a large pink vibrator.
Then the door opened and in she walked, the bitch, bold as brass.
"Good morning, -
oh!"
Her face was a picture.
"Hello, Debra. Or is it
"Crystal"
? You obviously remember us," I replied. "Why don't you come on in?"
Debra was looking like she didn't know whether to come on in or run a mile, and wanted the floor to swallow her up. She was wearing a cheap navy blue nylon boudoir robe that barely covered her arse, black stockings and suspenders and what looked like 4-inch heels. She was a tall woman about my age, in her early forties or late thirties, with auburn hair, cut short. Her figure was good, and the robe was tied loosely to show off her creamy, 34C tits that were spilling out of her black lacy Wonderbra. She was dressed like a tart and I could smell her cheapo perfume acrss the room.
"Sue? And Peter?"
Her voice was almost inaudible.
"So, Debra", I said with more confidence than I felt, "What's it like, being a whore?"
She sank down onto an armchair, holding her head in her hands. Petey sat down beside me on the bed.
"How did you find me here?" Debra whimpered through her hands.
"Oh, easy. The Ministry of Justice contacted me to say you were involved in Community Payback and where you were working. I must say I'd never thought you'd sink
this
low."
"
Oh God.
" Debra moaned through her hands.
"So how did you end up here?" Petey asked.
"The prison told me I could work off some of the debt and get out of jail earlier if I pay off half a million pounds."
"So, twenty thousand quid for each year of your sentence?" I asked, doing some quick mental arithmetic.
"Yeah", she nodded. "I can maybe do it in ten years. It's better than spending twenty-five years rotting in jail, anyway. They offered me waitressing and hairdressing, but this pays best, so..."
I snickered. "How much is that a day, then, Debra?"
"I make about £1000 a day here."
"Wow. That's what, you get to fuck ten men a day?"
"Yes. You'll get at least some of your money back, okay?"
"I won't get my husband back, Petey won't get his father back, will he?
"It wasn't my fault", she whined.
"Steve had a heart attack and died on the way to hospital the day he realised we'd lost all our money in your husband's fucking Ponzi scheme! That was our life savings, stolen by people who were our neighbours and who we thought were our friends! We both used to go shopping together, remember? We used to have you all over to dinner! Steve and Bill played golf every weekend! Just wait 'till I tell the Golf Club where you are!"
"I
didn't know
, honestly!"
"You lying bitch! I saw the police interview notes!"
"Look, I only realised what Bill was up to once it was too late to back out! I swear!"
"The jury didn't believe you, did they?"
"No. My barrister was useless."
Typical Debra. Nothing was ever her fault.
"Oh, where is Bill, by the way?"
"Still in Supermax. He only gets out on a chain gang,"
"Do you know," I said, "Stiffer jail terms, legalisation of brothels and the Community Payback are the best bits of legislation the Conservatives passed in the last ten years! It means people like you who fucked people over get fucked in return! Karma's a bitch, isn't she?"
Debra sat silent, her head bowed.
"Anyway," I said, "That's all I wanted to say."
"I said I'm sorry," Debra mumbled.
"Yes, you did. But I'm not sure if Petey thinks that counts for much, you know? I can't say I blame him. What do you say, Petey?" I looked at my son.
"No, it's not." He was frowning at the floor.
"So what do you want to do then, darling?" I asked him.
"Make the bitch earn her money," Petey mumbled.
"Well", I said brightly, "You heard the boy, Debra. Time to go to work."
"What?"
"You heard me. We paid three hundred quid for this. We've got plenty of time left, and it
is
Petey's nineteenth birthday."
"But I -"
"Oh yes, you can. Why don't you stand up and take that silly robe off and show Petey what you've got underneath, hmmm?"
"I used to babysit him!"
"Yes, you did, sweetie. But that's all in the distant past now isn't it? Now you're just a slutty whore. So, stand up and
get 'em off!"