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Badiha comforted her new roommate as she sobbed her way through a bottle of wine and a tub of ice cream that night. She comforted her again a week later when it turns out her office’s permissive attitude to her constant lapses in professionalism was motivated solely by fear of reprisals from Grace’s father.
Badiha started this experience glowing in the aftermath of doing a good deed in a bad world. But when that good deed started to preclude her access to privacy to indulge loud and humiliating masturbation, her house guest became a reminder that kindness has consequences.
“Want to watch a movie.” Badiha asked, trying to console Grace as she sat on the couch tearfully staring into mid air. “I know it’s already late but I’ve got Netflix, Amazon Prime, all the videos of women I’ve put in humiliating situations, and Disney plus.
“Anyone I know?”
“Depends on your childhood but everyone knows Mickey and Goofy.” Badiha joked. She wasn’t yet at the point of sharing confidential details with Grace, hell Grace didn’t even know about Badiha spoofing her phone to trap Aimee.
“You don’t happen to have any videos of the time you made my fantasy happen do you?” Grace asked.
“No, I try not to take evidence unless it’s part of the experience.” Badiha explained.
“So my parents threw me out and there wasn’t even any evidence? I really am fucked aren’t I?” Grace sobbed as Badiha fetched another tub of ice cream from the freezer.
“I’m sure you are useful. Um, how about you help me with a client?” Badiha suggested, getting out her computer. “I have this girl I’m working with at the moment, the deal was to train her to remove her inhibitions in preparation for a career in modeling and influencing.”
“I’m guessing you had her do sexual things?” Grace asked.
“She chose me, not a life coach. She must have known what I was about.” Badiha reasoned. “So she’s moved from isolated modeling shoots and product endorsements to attending a party with the intention of being seen by the influential people due to be there. I’ve already picked her out a pretty scandalous outfit, but I want to do something to make sure she doesn’t freeze up and become a wallflower when she arrives.”
“I’m unemployed, disowned, and currently on my second tub of cookie dough ice cream. Do I strike you as the best person to ask about confidence?”
“You know perversion better than me. I haven’t been through anything like this.” Badiha lied. “What deviant thing you did gave you the most confidence?”
“Hmmm. For me it was just having that secret. The feeling that I had deceived everyone into thinking I was a normal person.” Grace mused.
“She’s aiming to be an influencer, it’s taken as read that she’s not a normal person.”
“Then have her do something no influencer would do. Have her go to the party thinking to herself, ‘nobody knows I’m actually the kind of girl to…’ I dunno… ‘fuck a homeless person.'” Grace suggested.
“Bit risky and extreme, not certain how a homeless person would react, but you are onto something.” Badiha acknowledged, seizing on Grace’s insight. “What if Grace went to the party thinking ‘nobody here knows I’m the kind of person who…’ um, I feel there’s something she can do with a bin or rubbish.”
“How about she takes a naked selfie inside some communal bin, like some dumpsters. That way she’ll have the photograph on her phone with her as she circulates at the party.”
“Perfect!” Badiha acknowledged pulling out her phone to work out the details. “She’ll have to choose a bin that won’t have anything dangerous like broken glass in it, so I could pull some strings with a manager I know at Burger Hut to leave his dumpster unlocked and back alley CCTV turned off tonight. She can go after closing time and although it will be messy, it’ll all be leftover food and drink in cardboard containers.
Badiha saw Grace smiling the only genuine smile she had done since arriving and all the frustration of her visit melted away.
“So I’d say you just passed a job interview with flying colours. How would you like to be my assistant?” Badiha asked. “I’ve been trying to be less hands on recently so I could use someone like you in the field.”
“Wow, really? That would be great.” Grace agreed. “But why are you trying to be less hands on?”
“Umm… how about this, if you complete your probation, I’ll tell you. I promise you it’s a juicy tale.” Badiha promised. “And as an added bonus, it pays enough money for you to get a place of your own. Got to give you your space if you want to keep feeding the demon and working on your creativity.”
“Wow, thank you so much. I’m going to work my hardest at this, you’ll see.” Grace ranted with a massive grin that suddenly turned to sombre again. “Last time I got a new job, my parents were the first people I told and they threw me a party. Now you’re all I have.”
“We can still celebrate.” Badiha acknowledged, desperately reaching for something special to do. Her deviant mind was whispering in her ear that istanbul travesti licking her pussy would be one hell of a celebration, but Badiha decided to indulge the spirit of the request rather than the letter. “Would your parents celebrate by getting you to do something really dirty?”
“No, but of course, you know I’m a deviant.” Grace realised.
“Indeed. So to celebrate your new job I have a task for you. Go to the 24 hour off license across the road and buy us some champagne, and I hope you didn’t eat too much of that cookie dough ice cream as that’s all you’ll be wearing.” Badiha ordered as Grace’s smile turned deviant.
…
Badiha gave Grace a playful swat on the way out of the door and a droplet of ice cream fell to the floor as she tentatively stepped out of the apartment. Badiha closed the door behind Grace and the moment she was alone she began rabidly stripping off her clothes to scratch her itch.
She stared at her naked body in the mirror, reminding herself of the days when she was at another’s mercy just like Grace was. She fetched a large plug she bought after her island adventure as a celebration of her newly trained anus and watched as she eased it inside herself.
“I’ve missed this.” Badiha sighed as she grabbed her wand and turned it up to full power in the hope of providing herself with some quick and loud satisfaction before Grace got back.
“Oh this slutty body has missed being violated.” She told herself. “I bet I could continue even when Grace gets back. She’s a fellow deviant, it’s not like she’s going to judge me.”
Badiha squirmed and bit her bottom lip.
“This isn’t about her. This is about you. This is about Cunt. Cunt is a dumb slut. Cunt can’t be free. Cunt would fuck your life. Cunt would… would…” Badiha bucked and screamed to a powerful release. She quickly cleaned up and threw her clothes back on before sitting back on the sofa and taking some deep breaths to calm herself for Grace’s return.
…
“So read it through again and tell me the opportunities and dangers present in this request.” Badiha instructed as Grace stared at her laptop screen.
“It’s hot, let’s do it.”
“They’re all hot. This is the deep end of a dark pool, you’re going to want to do everything suggested but it isn’t about you. You want to just serve your own joy I’ll add you to the list of prostitutes I can call on. I want you to think this through. Is it feasible? Can the fantasy end at the final whistle? Will a favour from whatever shred of humanity is left at the end of the adventure even be worth a damn?” Badiha rubbed her temples as Grace read through Susan Merdock’s email again.
“Using someone she knows could be a risk. First you have to spend a lot of resources looking into her social circles just to see if there is anyone applicable, and even if you find someone how do you know after the fantasy is done his blackmail won’t escalate to the point of social ruin for her?” Grace tentatively asked.
“Very good. I could just have one of my sex workers give her a seeing to then say it was someone she knows…”
“But you like to play things honestly and she may get suspicious if nobody steps forward to exploit her.” Grace reasoned, smiling that she was starting to be more analytical. “It is hot though.”
“If the only criteria were hotness I’d need an entire office building and would be ruined within the year.” Badiha noted. “What are your thoughts on Lady Farrington-Smyth? Besides that it’s hot.”
“This Tara character sounds like our kind of person, this could be an in for a future contact.” Grace explained. Badiha didn’t have the heart to tell her that someone who would want them as her sexual slaves is the last thing either of them needed. She was certain if they took on this case it would ruin both of them but couldn’t say as much without tipping her hand.
“We don’t know anything about this Tara woman, if it turns out she’s a danger just looking into her might draw more attention than we would like.” Badiha informed. “Plus having Lady Farrington-Smyth in her clutches, do you think this Tara character will just let her come and go fully masked, or will she have that mask off the moment she sees the opening? And once she’s in this woman’s clutches what does that mean for the value of the favour she would owe us?”
“Alright I get it. So which one should we do?” Grace sulked.
“I can’t choose for you, your first fantasy has to be one you think is right…”
“As long as you don’t think it’s wrong…” Grace snidely interrupted.
“Fine, you pick one out and as long as it isn’t totally beyond the pail we’ll do it.” Badiha offered. Grace scanned over the emails before her face lit up.
“This one!”
…
“I have a reservation under the name… urgh… Fuck Slut.” The upstanding woman hesitantly asked the man behind the hotel reception desk. Although she was not used to labelling herself as such, the hotel was certainly used to clientele using sexually suggestive sudonyms, in fact their travesti istanbul entire model revolved around a permissive attitude to these sort of shenanigans. Far more unusual for this place was someone to be booking a room for multiple nights, it was a high price, low quality hotel nestled between the National Exhibition Centre and Birmingham Airport, perfectly located for busy travellers and conference attendees looking for some paid company to fit around their itineraries. The man handed over the keys to room 11 and told her check out was in a week’s time.
She went to the room and sat quietly on the bed, fiddling with her phone, awaiting her fate. There was a knock on the door and the women answered to her expected guests, Badiha and Grace, each carrying a heavy suitcase.
“Everything go to plan?” Badiha asked.
“What little plan you deigned to share with me has paid off.” She replied. “I’m still getting texts from the office so if this arrangement goes ahead I’ll need time each day to reply.”
“I know it is scary Suriya, but International Investments SA has an asset pool measured in the billions, they won’t go out of business if you take a single week off.” Grace reassured her as she uneasily sat back on her bed. They made the usual pre-session small talk discussing ground rules and safe words while remaining vague about what was coming up. There was a knock at the door and Badiha breathed a sigh of relief that they didn’t have to stall any more. She left Grace behind as she went to answer the door and soon found herself face to face with Malcolm.
This was the first time Badiha had seen Malcolm since the island, although they had communicated by email and phone. Badiha didn’t realise how much she would regress in his presence. Her mind began screaming at how wrong it was that she was wearing clothes and planning to speak to Malcolm like he wasn’t her master.
“Badiha, good to see you again.” He said by way of a greeting.
“Hi Malcolm.” Badiha replied, getting ahold of herself and persevering. “So Suriya is in here. Remember you’re just training her to be sexy and capable. No bimbo stuff. I want her to feel sexy as the human she is.”
“You sure? You seemed to enjoy it.” Malcolm joshed.
“I’d also rather you didn’t bring that up.” Badiha hissed before dragging Malcolm in front of Suriya. “Suriya I’d like you to meet Malcolm.”
“Pleased to meet you Malcolm, are you one of the two to five people I requested?” Suriya asked.
“Not exactly.” Malcolm replied, turning to Badiha to explain.
“So you said you wanted to be seen as a sexual being, so we wanted you to have interactions that confirm you are sexy and provide sexual services for others. Malcolm is here for your training to be a high end prostitute.” Badiha informed as Suriya’s eyes bulged wide.
“Seriously, I’m going to be a whore?” Suriya stammered. Grace sat next to her and put her arm around her shoulders.
“Think about it, you are an attractive woman who doesn’t know how fucking sexy she is. There’s no greater way to confirm your sexiness than to have men paying to fuck you. We’ll be creating you an anonymous profile on a website people use to find women so sexy that they have no choice but to pay to fuck them. We’ll even tell you the obscene amount of money men have paid just to get their hands on your body.” Grace explained, tracing her hand up and down Suriya’s arm as she did. Suriya let out a sigh, her shoulders dropped, and suddenly she was much more comfortable with the plan ahead of her.
“Alright, what now?” Suriya asked with a smile.
“Well I’m going to be leaving you in Malcolm and Grace’s capable hands for the next 2 days while I get to work rounding up and vetting the men who will be paying to have sex with you.” Badiha explained. She couldn’t tell them that being around Malcom while he trained someone was hazardous to her humanity. Badiha bid her goodbyes and left the room as she heard Malcolm begin to discuss her makeover, a process Badiha and Grace had been jokingly referring to as the opposite of the movie Pretty Women.
…
Badiha thought that just working on Suriya’s profile would be enough distance, but as the photos from her training began to get sent across and Badiha began to have chat’s with prospective clients, she realised her role was just as sexually charged.
Badiha studied the photo Malcolm said would make a good profile pic, in it Suriya was transformed. They had bleached her hair so it was now an unnatural blonde, Badiha hoped that it would look the same when dyed back to dark brown at the end of the week. Her body was clearly as toned as she had intimated on her emails, firm for a woman in her thirties, but now Grace and Malcolm had subtly oiled it so her skin shone like dark amber.
She was kneeling on the bed in blue lace mesh lingerie with matching mask, perfectly working with her darker complexion. The lingerie was clearly more expensive than average, it was also see-through enough to see the shadow of nipples and the istanbul travestileri landing strip Malcolm had left behind when he had shaved her pussy. The bra was barely there, but still managed to offer flattering support to Suriya’s previously downplayed D-cups. Everything about the arrangement screamed expensive prostitute, he’d even moved the bed next to the window so the run down hotel room wouldn’t take away from the class (which made Badiha wonder if anyone on the street had seen her display.)
The moment the profile went up, with availability by the conference centre and airport for the next few days Badiha found herself having salacious conversations with at least a dozen men, which did nothing to tamp down her desires as Malcolm began to send teasing shots and nude selfies that he assured Badiha would work wonders on those one to one chats that were setting up the jobs. In each one Suriya had a big grin under her mask.
Badiha found herself in a virtual world of eroticism, talking dirty online to hungry men, proposing sexual fantasies, and watching as her dark mind was indulged. It didn’t help when Malcolm sent over a photo of Suriya arm in arm with Grace, both naked and giggling, and it became clear that Grace was availing herself of Malcolm’s training as well.
After two days Badiha couldn’t help but be excited to return to the hotel and check in on progress.
…
“So we have your first client today, an accountant called Derek. He’s a sweetie and a bit vanilla, perfect for your first time. He has no connections to your day to day life so I figure you won’t need the mask for this encounter. We know there are hazards to this profession so have hidden cameras and will dive in if your clients go too far.” Badiha explained.
“Thank you.” Suriya replied with a pleasant grin. “Malcolm told me what to expect and I think I can handle a lot of it.”
“Alright, well if you can’t handle it, use the phrase ‘sorry that’s too far’ and we’ll come in if they don’t back off. If they ask why we’re there we can just say your phone has that as an activation phrase to call for help so we don’t expose the cameras.” Badiha calmly informed as Suriya took the opportunity to start getting dressed, no longer ashamed of being naked in front of company.
“Suriya, if this guy is as vanilla as Badiha says, wear the green dress over some lingerie and let him have fun taking it off.” Malcolm advised knowledgeably.
“Thanks Malcolm” said Suriya, confusing Badiha with the familiar and non-subjugated tone she was using with the man who trained her. Malcolm, Grace, and Badiha left and went to a room down the hall they had booked to be close by so Suriya had a moment to be alone with her thoughts and excitement.
“So how was her training?” Badiha casually asked as she booted up her computer and connected it to the hidden cameras.
“My god she has the most strangely inconsistent confidence. We had to spend most of the time reassuring her that she was sexy, giving her confidence that people would enjoy her company, teaching her tricks to make sure nobody would think she wasn’t sexy. Then the moment the guy at the takeaway gets our order wrong you’d think she was about to burn down the shop.” Malcolm explained.
“And I see Grace took a hands-on approach to helping out.”
“Grace played her part beautifully, she helped with training but every so often when Suriya’s nerve failed her Grace would step in to hold her hand and try things with her.” Grace blushed as Malcolm sang her praises, while Badiha remembered a time she was willing to do far worse for even a hint of his approval.
“I think the key is…” Grace began before Badiha interrupted her.
“Hang on, it looks like Derek’s just arrived.” Indeed a middle-aged man in a suit was awkwardly making his way down the corridor, studying door numbers until he got to door 11 and froze. He straightened up and did his best to look calm and confident before giving the door a quiet knock.
Inside the room Suriya looked equally nervous, though in her dazzling green dress with high slit and oodles of cleavage she certainly had nothing to be nervous about. She took a deep breath and answered the door.
They both froze, looking at each other over the threshold, he was stunned silent by the vision of beauty that was in front of him, she was stunned by the picture of mediocrity she had agreed to fuck for money. Eventually she regained her nerve and broke the silence.
“So do you want to come in or were you planning on having this party in the hallway?” She asked as seductively as her nerves would allow. Despite her intervention, Derek still remained in stunned silence, so taking the initiative she grabbed his tie and pulled him over the threshold and into her arms, her lips planting themselves on his. She used her leg to close the door behind him, and in her embrace he relaxed and began to trace her back with his hands.
Derek was fumbling and hectic trying to get Suriya’s dress off, so Suriya stopped him, calmed him down, then salaciously turned and lifted her hair out of the way so he could unzip her and watch the green dress flutter to the ground. The sight of Suriya in her lingerie was overwhelming and he immediately tackled her onto the bed.
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