The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Rita McGiven was a brassy and sharp eyed middle aged woman in her early forties. When she was younger she had made her living ‘on the game’ and she retained a well toned and muscular body which many men still found attractive. But there had always been something hard nosed and calculating about her prostitution—more so even than the usual run of whores in the East End. In fact, Rita had brazened out more than one encounter with the police and the criminal fraternity. She was never part of any pimp’s stable, running her own body like a business in which she took all the profits. And as she grew older she saw the opportunities available in running others for her own profit, moving seamlessly into a career as a madam. Pimping for other women was easy for her. She had drawn several relatively innocent girls into her web of vice because she seemed initially more sympathetic than any man. By the time her younger wards realised that she was could also be a vicious and demanding bitch she was already controlling their lives. The working girls who made up Rita McGiven’s stable were favourites with a wide variety of unpleasant clients and they had made Rita rich.

The Slob paid Rita a visit shortly after his first introduction to Suzanne. She was already familiar with him as an occasional customer for one of her girls. None of the women in her thrall liked having to service him but that didn’t worry Rita. In fact a little touch of fear helped to keep the girls in line. This time, though, there was something out of the ordinary going on. At first she was puzzled by the Slob’s proposal. He showed her two photographs and asked her if she had any girls who looked like the women in the pictures. As it happened she did have a couple ‘on her books’ who were passably similar. Rita assumed that this was one of the Slob’s kinky fantasies—that she had some sort of thing for the two girls and wanted to play act a little scene with her own ‘escorts’. But the Slob had something altogether different in mind and as she listened Rita became increasingly intrigued by the situation. The Slob understood the way Rita’s mind worked—he had known her for a long time. He was taking a risk by involving her in his plans like this but he knew that if she went along with him, everything would be so much easier and more convenient. Studying her reactions carefully as he gradually revealed more of his hitherto relatively secret situation he knew he had made the right decision. By the time he had finished she was smiling broadly.

“I’m sure we can work something out”, she said with a wicked little laugh.

Within a month Suzanne’s plans to travel with Kirsty were all settled, the loose ends of her work and home life had been closed off and her adventure could begin. The poor girl had no way of knowing that someone else had plans for her—and they did not involve travelling round the world! Kirsty had arranged for a cab to take them both to the airport and Suzanne didn’t recognise the taxi driver who came to pick her up. If her memory had been better she might have remembered him as the same rather threatening individual who had been sitting on the next table during the girls’ Pizza Hut reunion. But of course she had no reason to make that connection.

All their luggage had been sent on ahead and it was just a question of getting to the check in desk on time. Next the cab would go on to pick up Kirsty from her new lodgings. The Slob studied Suzanne in the rear view mirror as she got into the cab. As the door slammed and he moved off into the traffic, he felt like a trapper watching a bird fly straight into his cage. She’s mine he thought, triumphantly and his trousers began to tent as he drove, contemplating the prospect of intimate encounters to come with the delicious young body he was now transporting into captivity. Suzanne was wearing a pair of pink high healed sandals, a pale pink knee length skirt which hugged her hips and a semitransparent pale pink blouse. Her bare legs were lightly tanned and all in all she was looking every bit as desirable as the day he had first seen her.

“SLP on board and in transit”, he said.

The car radio wasn’t connected to any taxi network. It was a small citizen’s band job which Mack was monitoring from the Slob’s flat. In their prearranged code “SLP” meant, ‘sexy little package’.

At first, Mack had found it hard to believe his son’s story and he was amazed by the strength of Kirsty’s brainwashing. Eventually, though, he had to recognise that his son really had captured a very attractive and innocent young woman and converted her for his perverted uses. There was no doubt about it. Kirsty was a slave and the Slob was her owner.

One day, the Slob held a little ceremony in which he designated his father as an ‘authorised keeper’ giving Kirsty strict instructions that Mack now had the same rights and privileges over her body which he took for granted. The poor girl had been unable to hold back her tears when the Slob told her to obey Mack completely or be punished. But that hadn’t stopped the old man from bending her over the kitchen table and giving her a good introductory fucking. Mack continued to find the abject surrender of the helpless little blonde extremely arousing and since then had enjoyed every opportunity to have his way with her.

Much as Kirsty loathed and feared the Slob she was quite unable to resist him and her conditioning was now so deep that she was simultaneously aroused by his attentions and easily brought to orgasm when he chose to do so. Mack, on the other hand was quite something else. The little blonde was utterly terrified of the old man because he had an unpredictable streak of cruelty which she was quite unable to understand. By adhering strictly to the Slob’s instructions, Kirsty could often escape the punishment which inevitably followed any failure to perform to order. But Mack didn’t seem to care what she did. He was capricious and sadistic in his treatment of his son’s plaything—delighting in her humiliation and full of imaginative methods for tormenting her.

Whilst the Slob went to collect Suzanne, Mack was ‘looking after’ Kirsty. Sitting on the kitchen chair, he had the naked maid straddle his lap with her back to him and positioned so that his rigid pole was impaled deep inside her bottom. His hands were closed around her breasts and his face pressed to her ear which he could kiss, lick and nibble as he whispered instructions, obscenities and taunts to her. Kirsty was trying hard not to cry. It was difficult to know which of Mack’s attentions she found the most distressing. His brutal mauling of her breasts as he squeezed, pulled and pinched them made her gasp in anguish from time to time but it could be endured. Worse was the feeling of his rigidity inside her—his organ was long and hard and stood proud in it’s violation of her bottom. Whenever she shifted slightly on his lap she could sense the pleasure her body was providing him, but the old man seemed to have an inexhaustible sexual appetite and remarkable endurance and he didn’t climax. He saw it as a challenge to keep Kirsty skewered on the end of his cock for as long as possible. But for all this it was his words which really hurt her the most.

“You’ll have a little friend to join you soon”, he gloated, when they both heard the Slob’s confirmation that the ‘SLP’ was on its way. “Won’t that be nice? Two juicy little trollops to cook and clean and accommodate their masters’ members. I wonder what she’ll think of you when she finds out how you’ve betrayed her? I expect she’ll hate you.”

Mack chuckled as Kirsty whimpered. The dreadful thing was that Kirsty did feel as though she was responsible for Suzanne’s predicament. It was ridiculous, of course. She had been ruthlessly manipulated by the Slob and compelled to co-operate with his cunning scheme. Nevertheless, because the plan had required that she have the appearance of autonomy Kirsty felt more anguish over her supposed betrayal than made sense. She wanted to believe that during one of their phone conversations or carefully staged meetings (of which the Pizza Hut incident had only been the first of half a dozen) she could have rebelled. Whilst she had been temporarily dressed again (’dolled up’ as the Slob called it) she dreamed that she could have run away. Or she could have screamed a warning down the phone. But somehow she never had. Somehow the thought of going against the Slob’s wishes proved to be an impossible one when the time came. And now Suzanne—her best friend—was about to be trapped in the same fate!

Only as Kirsty started to sob did Mack finally loose control and spunk deep inside her. And that was the moment when the Slob arrived back home with his prize...

“Prepare for SLP delivery”, came the Slob’s voice just as Mack was finishing. The cruel old man pushed Kirsty away knowing that his son’s words meant he had only five more minutes to ‘pack her up’. After some discussion, father and son had decided to play it safe and make sure Kirsty couldn’t cause any problems whilst they were dealing with Suzanne. They knew it would be a moment of high emotion and stress for the anguished little blonde and although the control strategy had been absolutely perfect so far there was no point in taking a chance at this stage. Rather than risk the possibility that the dramatic nature of the imminent abduction would shock Kirsty out of her submissive surrender they had decided to secure her during the kidnapping. Mack worked quickly. Two pairs of handcuffs were quickly clipped round the girl’s wrists and ankles, securing her hands behind her back and hobbling her. Pinching her nose made her mouth gape open and let him force a thick wad of discoloured white fabric inside. It had amused Mack to use a dirty pair of his own pants for the make shift gag and he now secured it in place with two large strips of black sticky tape. A roll of green garden twine was produced and looped several times around the girl’s knees then tied off tightly to keep her legs together. Mack lifted Kirsty onto a hard wooden chair in the corner of the bedroom where she would have a good view of the proceedings but would be helpless to intervene. He finished off by tying the handcuffs to the arms and legs of the chair, confident now that Kirsty couldn’t move. He was just in time.

“Wait here”, he grinned. “I think there’s someone at the door!”

“Here we are. I’ll show you to the flat on my call list”, the driver said, stopping the cab outside a dirty looking tower block which made Suzanne shudder. She couldn’t imagine what her friend was doing living in such a place. She didn’t like the cab driver much either but he insisted on accompanying her.

Suzanne climbed the stairs carefully, wishing for a moment she hadn’t worn such high heels. The concrete steps were steep and the stairwells dark and unpleasant. She was conscious of the taxi driver behind her and suspected he was taking advantage of their relative positions to get a good look at her legs and glimpses up her skirt. She tried not to shiver but she was becoming increasingly apprehensive. When the reached the flat she let out a shaky sigh and knocked timidly on the door.

It was opened by a scruffy looking old man with faded tattoos and a horrible leer which widened into a wicked grin as he looked her up and down with shocking insolence. Kirsty had mentioned a landlord but surely it couldn’t be this nasty looking man? How on earth did her friend stand to live in this place! It was a good job they were going away together. She’d have to find a way to help Kirsty out of this flat...

“Is Kirsty ready?", she managed, rather timidly because she was more than a little afraid now.

“Oh yes!", the old man answered, “she’s quite ready!”

For some reason, her question seemed to amuse him.

“Come through and I’ll let you see her.”

The door shut behind Suzanne with an ominous finality—the taxi driver had his back to it but Suzanne didn’t see the wink he cast over her shoulder.

“Kirsty? Kirsty... it’s time to go. Our taxi’s waiting”, she called quietly as the old man led her towards the bedroom and pushed open the door. The chair was out of sight in the corner and Suzanne couldn’t see it until she had stepped foot inside the room. Mack had the pleasure of watching the look of horror which crossed her face as she recognised her friend tied to the chair. There was a delicious moment of paralysis and then she opened her mouth to scream. But in that moment the Slob, who had now bolted the door, came up behind her and clapped a hand over her mouth.

“You’re not going anywhere, bitch!", he hissed in triumph. “You’re staying right here with us!”

It took the two men a good five minutes to subdue the struggling blonde. The Slob had underestimated her strength and desperation. Suzanne wriggled awkwardly in his grasp, tried to bite him and kicked out violently. But it was quite useless. Once Mack had managed to get a grip on her left leg and yanked it out from under her, she toppled over and was easily bundled onto the bed where a breathless Slob sat heavily on her legs. Now the older man had time to tame her flailing arms and fasten the third pair of handcuffs he’d deployed in the last few minutes round the blonde’s pale wrists.

“She’s a feisty one alright!", Mack said. “The sooner you break this one in, the better!”

But there were no further problems as the men, bound and gagged their pretty victim. The Slob chose Suzanne’s own panties to serve as her gag, knowing how Kirsty had been gagged and pleased by the symmetry of the arrangement. How she writhed when he put his hands under her skirt to yank them down! But to no avail, of course. Soon the white lacy fabric was wadded tightly inside her bulging cheeks and her squawks of protest were reduced to muffled moans.

“She won’t be needing these from now on”, the Slob joked with his father. “We might as well have some use out of them!”

Once Suzanne was safely trussed up, Mack went to the fridge to get them both a beer.

“A drink to celebrate”, he said to his son. “That’s a job well done. Now perhaps we can have a proper look at our catch eh? See what she’s made of...

Whilst the Slob sipped his beer thoughtfully, Mack unbuttoned Suzanne’s blouse, taking his time to enjoy the heaving of her chest as the distressed young woman struggled to breath through her gag and moaned louder in anticipation of imminent further abuse. Eventually the blouse was tugged clear of her skirt and only the taut elastic of a low cut lacy pink bra separated the men from a full view of the girl’s plump young breasts. Not for long. The front fastening garment was quickly unclipped and the men were treated to their first proper view of Suzanne’s excellent mammary glands.

The Slob let out a low whistle

“Now that’s what I call a delicious pair of milk puddings”, he remarked appreciatively. He winked at Kirsty who had endured the sight of her friend’s capture with increasing disgust and was now rigid with horror. “What do you think, eh Kirsty? Bet you wish you had a pair of juice jugs like that!”

Mack laughed. He bent over to cup Suzanne’s breasts in his hands and began to squeeze them, pulling the flesh hard between his fingers and kneading it like dough. The blonde had prominent red nipples which were set in pearl pink aureoles.

“Lovely fat tits!", Mack husked as if his son needed any confirmation... “A lot better than your tiny little titties!", he said to Kirsty, mocking the girl he had abused in a similar manner so recently.

“That’s enough, Dad”, the Slob said at last. “About time we finished stripping her before I thrash that fat arse of hers! If she’s going to be any use to us in future she has to learn to do as she’s told. I won’t tolerate any more struggling like that! Once she’s had a dose of the strap perhaps the silly minx will think twice before she misbehaves again.” He was pleased to see that Suzanne’s eyes were wide with horror as the impact of this little speech sank in. Her breasts, now marked red from their recent mauling, were rising and falling rapidly and her heart rate seemed to have increased like that of a trapped bird in a cage.

It didn’t take much longer to take off the girl’s shoes and skirt. The blouse was more awkward, obstructed by the handcuffs as it was, but the Slob took his time to briefly unfasten each arm and successfully removed it without tearing the cotton or popping any of the buttons. He had a use for his victim’s clothes so he was careful to keep them undamaged as he undressed her. Finally, though, she was completely naked, except for the fabrics and metal they had trussed her with. He stroked her loins as she tried to shrink from him.

“What a nice little purse”, he whispered. “I’m going to enjoy making a deposit in there!” In a louder voice he continued.

“Let’s turn her over now Dad. Time for her punishment, I believe!”

The strap the Slob had in mind was a wide leather implement which had once been used for luggage and on a large case come to that. It was supple but string and the Slob was convinced it would make a nice job of Suzanne’s bottom. He swished it experimentally though the air for a couple of times as Mack turned the blonde over and rolled her on the edge of the bed, easing his hands under her chest and twisting her so that her bound knees fell to the floor and her bare rump was nicely positioned for the coming treatment.

“That’s good”, the Slob said, pleased with the easy availability and plump ripeness of the blonde’s bottom cheeks. They made an excellent target—ample buttocks that derived from the girl’s petite hour glass figure but with firm flesh and looking as though they would withstand a great deal of punishment. He would soon find out!

He watched her tense and relax, quaking as she waited for him to begin. When she was at her most vulnerable he landed the first stroke—hard and uncompromising. Even underneath her gag that made her squeal ! The follow up stroke came quickly and was almost as hard. The blonde jerked, pressing her hips into the bed but there was no avoiding the punishment. The Slob had learned a lot from Kirsty and now he knew how to time each stroke for maximum effect, sometimes waiting until the girl inevitably relaxed a little before landing the next blow and sometimes delivering a quick fire series of painful deliveries.

“Variety”, he said to Mack. “That’s the key to a successful thrashing. Never let the bitch know what to expect next. ”

On the word ‘next’ he administered another stroke which made the older man laugh. Suzanne was sobbing now. Her bottom bore a bright pink pattern of interesting welts which would make it uncomfortable for her to sit down for a long time to come. Good, thought the Slob and he continued for another two minutes, sensing instinctively when further punishment would be counter productive. He wanted the blonde to be scared of him and terrified of a future beating but he didn’t want to inflict any permanent damage which would spoil the appearance of that splendidly fuckable young body. So at last he dropped the strap and let his left hand roam over his handy work, enjoying the heat of the freshly punished flesh which quivered and flinched beneath his palm. A sharp pinch to the soft tissue near the crack of her bottom brought a muffled wail of agony and then he dragged the girl to her to her feet and nodded to Mack. It was a prearranged signal and the old man stepped into position to support the naked blonde, whilst his son reached for a length of rope. In the last week the Slob had fitted a hook and pulley to the bedroom ceiling and now he ran the rope between Suzanne’s arms.

“Let’s have the other one, Dad”, he said and Kirsty was untied from the chair and pulled to her feet to join her friend. The two girls were positioned, face to face and the rope passed between Kirsty’s arms then yanked above her head. The Slob could now pull the rope through the pulley and tie it off, leaving both girls suspended on tip toes, bodies pressed nose to nose and breast to breast.

“Good job that’s a structural beam”, Mack said as he watched the hook take the weight of both girls. “Otherwise the fat cows would bring the ceiling down on us!”

The Slob ran his hands all over the girls’ bodies, relishing their readily available nakedness. Kirsty made a pleasing contrast to her plump little friend, the black stockings which she still wore offsetting the combined vision of smooth pale skin and contrasting with the rich pink glow of Suzanne’s bottom. Both men enjoyed the way that the girls’ breasts were forced together, making the soft young flesh balloon out to the side.

“You girls are old friends aren’t you”, the Slob mocked. “I’m sure you’d like a little time to get reacquainted. And I have something here to break the ice.”

Reaching into a draw in the bedside cabinet, he found what he was looking for—a large black double headed dildo. Suzanne’s eyes widened noticeably as she saw it but neither woman could do anything about it as the Slob got ready to impale them. Mack held Suzanne back whilst his son fingered Kirsty and stimulated her into a moist acceptance. To her deep shame, Kirsty couldn’t help herself now. The conditioning was just too strong and when the Slob said the key words she inevitably became aroused. It wasn’t difficult for her tormentor to ease one end of his cruel toy deep inside her. Meanwhile, Mack had been doing his best to prepare Suzanne, stroking her sex and teasing her clitoris with his right hand whilst his left hand played with her breasts. It was very difficult to coax any sort of lubrication from the shocked body of the abused young woman but once she had begun to receive the same treatment as Kirsty the Slob had no doubt she would begin to respond in the same way. In the mean time he had no real patience with her and settled for brutality, pressing Kirsty forward and using the weight of her quivering over stimulated body to force the cruel instrument forward until it was just as deeply embedded in her friend. The two blondes were now united by the fat tool of sexual authority and to ensure that they remained that way, the Slob took the luggage strap and looped it round their waists, buckling it tightly above the hip so that their loins were pressed tightly against one another. Mack used some more twine and tied the girls together at the knees and under the arms. It all helped to press them into the most intimate and unavoidable contact.

“Now”, said the Slob. “I think perhaps it’s time to breach this buxom blonde’s back passage. Pass me the vasaline will you Dad? She’ll need greasing up first.”

To Suzanne’s horror the Slob now took a jar of the waxy jelly and began to apply it to the sensitive ring at the heart of her buttocks.

“That’s nice,” he joked as he worked. “There’s noting like a freshly battered bum before tea, eh?”

He took her buttock cheeks and rolled them in the palm of his hands like a baker kneading two mounds of dough. He chuckled as his victim squirmed in protest, pinched the bright pink skin to shock her and then worked his finger deeper inside until he had forced the girl to open the muscles that were trying to deny him entry.

“Right the way up your bottom hole, eh missy!” he gloated when he had achieved maximum penetration. “And that’s where my prick is going soon. It’ll be a lovely tight fit but you’ll take it, whether you like it or not!”

The Slob was as good as his word. In less than a minute his sexual organ had replaced his finger as the instrument of abuse—probing deeply inside the pretty young woman’s back side and evoking increasingly desperate little moans which were suitably muffled by the gag of her own panties.

The Slob was enjoying himself enormously. And he had some additional ideas which he’d previously discussed with his father... Now the older man gave him a wicked grin. Taking “Michael” Cane from the kitchen Mack returned to stand behind Kirsty. In silence he suddenly delivered a hard blow full across the woman’s buttocks. A muffled squeal or pain, terror and surprise made its way past Kirsty’s own gag and caught without warning, the reaction of her vulnerable young body was most gratifying to the two men. Kirsty was unable to avoid jerking her hips forward violently, bucking hard against Suzanne. The double headed dildo that united the girls was inevitably forced deeper inside them both so that drops of sweat were squeezed onto their foreheads. Suzanne had nowhere to go, impaled at back and front and her hot young bottom was pressed harder against her tormentor, allowing his triumphant organ to conquer more territory as it invaded her helpless flesh.

“Again!", the Slob managed to gasp, nearly delirious with pleasure and his father was happy to oblige, meeting out a second stroke of the cane which produced a second convulsion.

“Bugger the little blonde bitch hard!", Mack said. “She needs a damn good seeing to. Teach the silly cow a lesson for interfering in our business, eh?

“You thought you’d take Kirsty off round the world did you?” he taunted Suzanne in a different tone of voice as he delivered a third blow. “Well she’s my son’s maid and he hasn’t finished with her yet! And we’ve only just started with you, you fat cow. Before we’ve finished you’ll be grateful if we milk those fat udders before we whip ‘em!”

And shortly after that, the Slob came inside his new acquisition, highly delighted with his first violation of the nubile captive and momentarily sated.

Of course Mack had to have some form of release now. The Slob was quite happy for him to enjoy the new girl but considered it better that he save the pleasure for a future date. Poor Suzanne had already had about as much of a shock as she could comfortably absorb. Any more now would be wasted, whereas if Mack waited until she had had a day or two to come to terms with her plight, the Slob knew that the girl would find Mack’s intimate attentions all the more horrible. And that would help to break her. So Mack contented himself with returning his member to the warm channel of Kirsty’s bottom, from where he had removed it such a short time ago. This time he had the pleasure of grasping a freshly punished bottom and pulling Suzanne forward as a means of furthering his entry into Kirsty. Both girls were sobbing now. It didn’t take long for Mack to climax.

“Excellent. I think we’ll leave you to it for a little while”, the Slob said at last. It was very difficult for both men not to continue their pleasure with the girls then and there. Both were highly aroused by the erotic spectacle the helpless young women presented and longed to give them a proper ride. But the Slob knew that patience would have its reward. If the silly sluts were left to stew for a little longer the anticipation would make the final satisfaction all the greater. Pulling on the rope, the Slob hauled the girls a little higher so that they were forced onto their toes. He tightened the luggage strap another notch. It had been convenient to give the wenches a little freedom of movement whilst the men were poking them but now he wanted them more tightly constrained.

And then he pulled his master stroke. The dildo was more than a simple inert instrument. The appliance had batteries and could act as a double headed vibrator. As he switched it on, he had to chuckle. It was such an delightful sight, watching the blondes strain on tip toe and wriggle with inescapable stimulation. There remained two final acts of subtle control. to perform...

The first was to begin Suzanne’s conditioning. A pair of headphones was pressed to her ears and the hypnotic messages began. The Slob had thought about this particular message carefully. If all went well, poor Suzanne would soon begin to feel unavoidable stirrings of lesbian lust towards her friend. Kirsty had already been indoctrinated with the same desires but today he had different plans for her...

The Slob went over to his first maid and whispered in her ear. “Now be a good girl Kirsty. I know you fancy your friend but I don’t want you coming without permission so no orgasm until I get back, do you hear?”

He laughed as he left the girls, knowing that the vibrator would drive Kirsty to distraction but that his control was strong enough to prevent any release without permission. Instead, Suzanne would be the first to come—unconstrained by any command to the contrary and subjected to the relentless conditioning she would be unable to help herself. And then she would begin to appreciate the true nature of her fate...

“Come on Dad”, the Slob said when he was satisfied with the set up. “I’d better put the car in the garage now and then I’ve got to pop down the King’s head. If you want to watch the football on the telly there’s an Arsenal game on Sky. We’ll come back for these two in a couple of hours or so, after tea eh?”

As the two friends squirmed uncomfortably in their tight and intimate bondage, the Slob was concluding some business which would ensure that their abduction left no trace. In the pub at the far end of market street he handed over two passports and two plane tickets to Rita McGiven. The madam took them without any questions. The Slob had disclosed as much of his plans as she needed to know and the grin on his face was enough to tell her that so far they had been successful...

“Come here girls!", Rita said, ordering two young women to join them.

“Meet Tracey and Julie”, she said, introducing them to the Slob.

The women she’d chosen for the job were just a couple of cheap tarts she’d been pimping for long enough to understand their psychology and to be confident that they would do as they were told. She’d selected them mainly because she knew they could be relied upon to comply with her instructions but also because they looked vaguely like the Slob’s chosen prey. With suitable wigs and makeup they could pass custom control with the stolen passports. The girls were glad of the job and would ask no questions about it. They just had to travel to America and return under their own names. There would be no trace of Kirsty or Suzanne after that. If anyone was looking for them, they would follow the trail to America where it would go completely cold. No one would think to link them with the whores returning on a different airline. Perfect.

“I’d like to take them upstairs”, the Slob said after he’s looked the girls up and down and found them suitable.

“Be my guest”, Rita said with a grin. The pub had rooms over the bar that she rented as a regular ‘knocking shop’, an arrangement that the landlord was well aware of and turned a blind eye to.

“Do whatever the man tells you to”, Rita warned her girls, “or you’ll have me to answer for. If you’re good you’re going to get a nice holiday out of this so make sure you behave yourselves.”

“Strip off!", the Slob said directly as soon as he had the girls behind closed doors. They looked at one another uneasily but they’d been on the game for too long to be shocked by this and quickly did as they were asked. The Slob smiled. The girls’ bodies had been hardened by too much use—they weren’t even close to the quality of “the real thing” but they would do nicely for his purposes.

“You. Put these on”, he ordered. “And you—you’re wearing these!” If the girls were surprised they didn’t show it. They might have expected some sort of kinky bondage gear from someone as obviously menacing as the Slob but instead he had only given them ordinary clothes; black stockings, a black skirt and a white blouse for one and a pink skirt and blouse for the other. Perversely, watching Tracey and Julie dress as Kirsty and Suzanne was more arousing for the tart’s client than watching them strip had been. They would do very nicely indeed...

The Slob fucked them then—both of them in turn. It was a perfunctory coupling, more in the nature of a sealed bargain than an act of passion. Neither girl provided him with a fraction of the enjoyment of their original but he managed to find some pleasure in the act as he considered the prospects for Kirsty and Suzanne once he could work on them together. This was a proxy fucking—a virtual going over which owed as much to the phrase “you’re fucked!” as it did to any sort of sexual release. When he was finished he left them to clean themselves up with strict instructions that they were to wear these clothes on the plane to America then dump them out there before they came back. Then the Slob went down to the bar again. There was time for a quick drink with Rita before he returned home to start on the arduous but rewarding task of training Suzanne in earnest...