0 comments/ 21686 views/ 0 favorites Bait And Switch By: Akito01 story inspired by an otherwise worthless bit of internet spam I am something of an old hack when it comes to internet dating. At least some of that expertise lies in my earlier days of blind dating, and my ability to turn even the worst situation into something positive. I am genuinely interested in people, and now that I've begun to make contacts through the internet, the variety of women I have met, and yes, even slept with, is truly amazing. I have encountered everyone from the business executive type, to the bland housewife looking for a thrill outside the home. You never know what you're going to get, and of course sometimes you do run into that 300lb heifer. But, as with any other kind of dating, you can always walk away. I've actually discovered that many heavier girls are great at giving head, so I always stick around even if she isn't all that great to look at. The previous day though, I ran into a babe that really took the cake. I was apparently the first guy she had chosen to meet by way of online, and she had invited me to her house for a rendezvous. It's pretty unusual for a first timer to invite someone into their home like that, but at least she'd made a safe decision with me. I'd have to tell her to be more careful next time, and that usually you'd meet your online date in a public place like a cafe or movie theatre. I was also a bit concerned about what I was getting into to, but I didn't think I really had all that much to worry about. My concerns were definitely brought into fruition though when I finally laid eyes on her. She looked as though she were once attractive, and fairly recently too, but her general caste now was anything but beautiful. Her naturally blonde hair was coarse and ill managed. Her face, though pleasant and smiling, was ashen and wane. Her figure, unusually thin, looked wasted and unhealthy. She was young, but one couldn't escape the conclusion that the effects of drugs were eating away at her once athletic body. She was dressed to thrill alright, in a tight fitting, thin blue dress that dropped short of the knees. The first thing she said to me was if I was ready to party. I kind of scratched the back of my head in mild embarrassment and admitted I didn't really party very much. She smiled and said, "today is a day to celebrate, you know?" I had to take her word for that. She invited me inside, and I got a first look at her apartment. It was a single room bachelor, with a small table, hotplate, and a mattress on the floor rather than a full bed. I had a sense she once had a lot more stuff, but probably sold it away for reasons that were becoming increasingly obvious. "You have any smack," she asked me, her tone as conversational as if asking me for a cigarette or a drink. I quickly explained I wasn't a drug user at all and turned to leave, but she begged me to stay, tugging on my arm. "It's alright," she assured me. "You don't have to do anything. I can get some for myself. You have any money? I can pay you back, you know, with sex." Saying nothing, I started to walk out, but was then struck by a thought. Why not take advantage of her? A cruel idea, I openly admit, but at the time I didn't have a very high opinion of her at all, and was annoyed to have been dragged into her little den like this. "Yeah, OK, I'll sleep with you," I told her, turning back. She giggled with glee and then asked me for money again. "Sex first, than maybe," I said. "That's not how it works," she replied, a frown creasing her face for the first time that afternoon. I simply turned and walked out the door. There was a moments pause, and then she came after me. She actually followed me all the way down the stairs and out to my car, begging me to stay. She seemed so distraught by my leaving, it was a pathetic sight. Playing my card to the last moment, it was only after I put my keys in the car door than I finally relented, looking her in the eyes and agreeing to come back upstairs. Naturally, we would play this out my way. Even as she locked the apartment door behind us, we still hadn't exchanged names. I guess that obviously wasn't important, but it seem a bit surreal. I'd never been in a situation like this before. I didn't expect anything in terms of a really great sexual experience, but the thought I was toying and exploiting this hapless addict gave me a thrill of power I'd rarely had before. I felt inexplicably wicked. She let me grasp and fondle her small, soft breasts as she unbuttoned my shirt. She evidently wasn't wearing a bra, as I could feel her nipples perfectly beneath the fabric of her dress. When she got to my waist, her clever hands wasted little time undoing my jeans and pulling free my growing erection. I have to say, at this point, a spot of worry crept over me. Putting my manhood in the claws of this woman... Just what sort of disease was I likely to pick up? I nearly always had safe sex, and had naturally thought to bring a 3-pack of condoms. Even so, I think this was the first time I'd ever given myself sexually to someone I didn't completely trust. At least she didn't have any obvious cold sores, I told myself as she knelt down and began to work her mouth around my cock. I gently caressed her thick hair as she sucked the head of my cock between her lips. I could feel her tongue against my glans, and was content to let her work her magic on me. She probably had a lot of experience giving head for drug money, but I pushed that thought aside for now. Instead, I rose into full and tense erection, my pants now down around my ankles and my shirt discarded on the bare floor. She pulled back, and I could see the glint of saliva over my penis. She smiled at my reaction. "No complaints so far, huh?" "Not yet," I assured her, having her stand up again. I bluntly pushed the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders, hoping to let it drop to her feet. As it turned out, the dress went on the other way, but she still let me take charge; gathering up the hemline so I could pull the garment up and off. Now the thin gangly wench was nearly naked, apart from a slightly stained pair of white panties She took a seat on the mattress and pulled them off herself while I untangled my legs from my jeans and shoes. She looked on with a sly grin as I took one of the condoms from my pocket and quickly rolled the sheath over my erection. I joined her now on the mattress, my hands sliding naturally towards her small breasts, and the lean curve of her hips. She too reached towards my cock, but I pulled back, resting on my heels as I deliberately parted her legs and cupped her pussy in my hand. I fondled her cunt between my fingers, bending down to take a closer look. In fact, I was looking for lesions or lice or any other unpleasantness, but thankfully she looked clean beneath her sparse curls of pubic hair. She still had that vaguely unpleasant odor that many women do between the legs, but that was hardly a concern. Instead, I was now more interested in seeing just how hot and bothered I could get this shady little minx. She probably expected things to progress quickly, that I would want to fuck her right away, come within a few minutes, and that it would all be over. I decided I wanted to play this out for much longer than that. I pried apart her coral shaded labia and exposed the tender end of her clit beneath it's foreskin. Kissing and teasing the insides of her thighs, I rubbed that spot between two fingers in a slow but insistant motion. She peered anxiously down the length of her body as I moved by lips across her open cunt and tasted the flesh. I then moved more purposefully, scrapping my tongue across the top of her cunt, where her helpless clit lay barely hidden. She made a soft sound in her throat, laying down completely as I settled in. Using one hand to firmly separate her labia, I sucked at her clit, lashing the now hardened organ with my tongue between breaths. I flatter myself that while my cunnilingus may not be the absolute best, my art has risen to the point I can judge a woman's arousal, and can inevitably make her orgasm. Shifting two fingers well inside her now wet and loose vagina, it came as no surprise when, after several minutes, the wench began to gasp out loud, and I could feel the tell tale contractions on my invading digits. I didn't stop there, though I did cease my direct assault on her now very sensitive clitoris. Instead, I continued to massage her vulva, inside and out, while looking up at her. Her eyes were firmly shut, hands tightly clenched into fists by her sides. Her pale skin was obviously flushed from the intensity of her orgasm. "No complaints?" I asked. She shook her head, blinking up at me. I crawled up over her, and with a very simple movement, thrust my penis inside her open and inviting cunt. Between the lubrication of the condom, and her own natural juices, it was effortless to fuck her in deep, quick strokes, my hands braced somewhere over her shoulders. Her eyes closed again, she accepted everything I did to her, giving in to the sensations of well practiced intercourse. This kind of sex, where the women lies like a log while I do all the work is typically very dull (with someone I care about, it's a forgivable sin, but not when I'm supposed to be paying for it). I only permitted her a few more minutes of this before I pulled out and forceably turned her onto her stomach. Evidently well aware of my intentions, she rose up on all fours as I took her now from behind. Her ass was pleasantly soft against my pelvis as I fucked her, reaching around her body to brazenly caress her breasts, and then down her side until I was rubbing her clitoris. Her breathing had become ragged and intense once again, and she may well have even climaxed. I have to admit, with the condom, I couldn't tell for sure. But I did know that I wouldn't have long to go myself. Still, I wasn't going to let her go so easily. I pushed her down onto the mattress, turning her slightly so that I was lying on my side, entering her at a shallow angle from behind. I pawed at her body, even kissing and sucking at the nape of her neck. Her leg rose to give me easier access as I continued to fuck her silly. My strength and resolve coming to an end, I breathlessly told her I wanted to come. I rolled onto my back and quickly rolled off the condom. I think she was momentarily confused, until I pulled on the back of her neck towards my tense and throbbing organ. This she understood. Wrapping her lips around my length, she used one hand on the base of my cock to pump me while she sucked and licked at my glans. There was no way I could stand that for more than a few moments. My hips rising off the mattress, I groaned vocally as I spat my load of semen thickly into her humid mouth. It may have taken me some minutes to regain my breath, but I never lost my wits. Even as she went to the sink to spit out my ill tasting load and rinse out her mouth, I began to dress, preparing to leave. "So, I guess that was alright, huh," she said hopefully, padding across the floor to pick up her discarded dress. I didn't say anything at first, only smiling slightly as I finished with my shoes and made for the door. "Hey, hold on a fucking second," she yelled, coming right after me. She screamed at me for her money, attracting the attention of her neighbors as I came outside to my car. By now I naturally had had enough, and in full view of these people, yelled back that I thought she was a slut, not a whore. She shamefully went back inside, and I drove away. I guess I should say she deserves what she got, and that abusing drug addicts like that is pretty damn cool. At the time, I definitely felt that way. It was only a little later I began to have some regrets. I really didn't know anything about her story, and I usually take great pains to get to know my dates. I mean, I really didn't know anything about how she came to be in such a state, or what her future plans might be. There's nothing I could have done that would have saved her. Any money I'd given her would have only went to one place, whether I'd fucked her or not. As I occasionally drive through that neighborhood, I would look at that apartment, and the rough outline of a plan forms in my mind. She had been so heedless at accepting my online date and inviting me to her apartment. If she were still making those kinds of mistakes, then it just may be possible she could be tricked again. Only this time, instead of sexually exploiting her, I would take her away and, basically, forceably de-tox her. It sounds mad, but the image in my head, of her tied to a bed, sweating and helpless, while I looked over her and waited, was something what wouldn't go away. The story, as it stands now, rests on that point of decision. Prudence says I should let things rest as they are and go about my life. Some other part of me eggs me on, to take this road not traveled, and potentially better someone's life (or really fuck it up). A pointless epilogue to what might otherwise be a banal and unsavory story? Perhaps. I doubt if I could argue the point. But, whatever else happens, I think my days of casual existence is definitely over. Having done what I had, things must change. Bait and Switch I was sure the woman was following me. I had noticed her early on , just after I entered the market. I had bought a chocolate waffle and turned around to walk on, and she was standing just three feet from me and looking directly at me. I didn't pay attention. It wasn't the first time since coming to France that a woman had appraised me, and it didn't mean anything. And it wasn't only men-- here, women ogled men as much as the other way 'round. I walked on , stopping here and there to see what was on offer. I stopped by the used book stand to see if there were any paperbacks in English. I glanced up and there she was again, standing at the other end of the stall. She stood out because she was dressed rather better than most of the Saturday morning shoppers-- a brown suit, an expensive looking handbag, and a small hat perched on her head. It was hard to tell how old she was, even from a short distance of 5 or 6 yards. Then, when I stopped at my favorite vegetable stall to buy some tomatoes from the three Moroccan brothers, I saw her out of the corner of my eye standing at the other end of the stall by the cabbage. When she noticed me looking her way, she turned and walked off through the market. I turned back to the vendor and chatted with him as I paid for my purchases. I turned and had taken about three steps when one of the brothers called out, "M'sieur, m'seiur!", and he was holding out a slip of paper. I went back and took the slip from his hands. "The woman there"-- and he pointed to the end of the street where she was just visible, standing on the opposite side of a navy blue car-- "she said this is for you." "Thanks Mehrdad," I said. "Who is she?" He shrugged. "Don't know-- rich woman." I looked at the slip. In elegant handwriting it said: "The Mercedes at the end of the market." My curiosity piqued, I walked in the direction of the car. I didn't hurry-- if she really wanted to see me, she would wait. I stopped once or twice to look at things, but I made sure I was visible. She was no longer standing outside the car, but had gotten in, I assumed. When I got close enough, I could see that the Merc was one of the older ones which used to be for people who wanted more sophistication than a Cadillac, but couldn't afford a Bentley. I walked over to the car and looked in. There was a chauffeur in the front and she was sitting in the back, looking straight ahead. I opened the rear door and she looked across at me, smiled, and patted the seat beside her. I got in and closed the door. As I was settling in to the seat I was noticing a number of things. The car, although probably forty years old or more was in beautiful condition. The seats looked new, the carpet wasn't worn and not a speck of dirt anywhere. The rear was separated from the front by a sheet of glass. The same thing could be said of the woman: She was clearly an older woman, but in immaculate condition. Her face was mildly attractive, but also rather tight-looking, so I guessed plastic surgery. But I looked at her hands and her neck-- the two places where plastic surgery doesn't work-- and I guessed she was in her 60's at least. She was skillfully made up, by which I mean you didn't notice it unless you looked very closely, and she was wearing a brown suit and beige blouse, both of which looked expensive. She had on expensive looking high heels and seamed stockings. She was also wearing a tiny bracelet and earrings, both of which looked like diamonds. That's a lot to notice while you settle into your seat, you say. OK, I noticed some of it after I had settled in and was waiting for her to speak. "My name is Madame Leleu," she said, "and I wish to hire you for a small job." She had a quiet, cultured voice. "Why do you think I can be hired?" I asked. "A young man-- a student perhaps-- buying tomatoes at the market and checking the used book stall-- probably doesn't have a lot of money." I was a student-- but I wasn't poor. I just liked the hustle and bustle of the bi-weekly market. Still, the oddity of the situation appealed to me, and I decided to see what else she had to say. "Tell me more." "I am rich, and you will be well-paid for obeying me. I assure there is nothing painful or distressing about the – the er, task. In fact, it will be pleasurable for you. I only ask that you obey me completely." It was weird-- she spoke very formally, but she seemed to be talking about something much more earthy. "Is this task something – um, carnal in nature, Madame?" I tried to match her tone. She hesitated. "Yes," she finally replied, "and I do not wish you to feel that you are being coerced or abducted. If you wish , you may get out now-- and you may quit the job at any point. However, you will only be paid if you complete it. Do you accept?" I nodded. "I can stop whenever I want?" "Yes, but you will experience only pleasure..." She leaned forward and pressed a discreet button and spoke to the driver, saying only "Go." On the ensuing drive, she explained a bit more. She was the last living member of what had once been a powerful industrial family, and a widow. She lived in a big house and had money to spend on anything she wanted-- but she didn't want very much. Hiring me for a "task" was a whim which she could indulge. She was quite friendly, but reserved. I complimented her on her appearance, and she laughed: "It was my job for years to look good for my husband and his associates and at his functions. Old habits die hard." After about 15 minutes we arrived in a neighborhood of large houses-- mansions really, built in the style of th the 19th century-- the houses built by industrial barons to show off their wealth. I had no idea of what part of the city we were in-- there were several possibilities and I hadn't paid attention as we drove there. We pulled into a semi-circular drive and stopped in front of a three story brick house with a flight of wide steps going up to the massive front door. I started to open the car door to get out, but Madame Leleu laid a hand on my arm and shook her head. The chauffeur opened her door and then came around and opened my door. As we went up the steps the door was opened by a maid. You've heard about French maids? Seen them in porno movies? Well this one was just like that-- except for the mini-skirt. This one had the white blouse (buttoned up to the neck), the frilly cap on top of her dark curls-- and a dark skirt that went all the way to the floor. She curtsied as we came in. The entrance hall was like the car-- well taken care of and rich. One could say that of Madame Leleu herself. The maid led the way up a staircase which ended in a long, broad hallway, heavily carpeted with expensive burgundy wallpaper with gilt-framed pictures on the wall. She opened a door and Madame Leleu motioned me in without a word. "You may go back downstairs now, Marie," she told the maid. I was confused but intrigued. She had admitted that the task was "carnal", yet she had remained reserved, even slightly distant during the ride and our entrance into the house. The room I was in was a bedroom-- the sort you might expect in a house like this. It had old-fashioned, dark and heavy furniture, a nice rug on the floor, and heavy drapes, which were closed. There was a big, four-poster bed, a large walk-in wardrobe, and various dressers and tables. I needed some answers. "So, what is this task you have for me?" She stood a near the window as she turned to face me and began to explain what she wanted. "I want you to get undressed-- completely-- I will tie you very loosely with soft bands to the corners of the bed. You will wear a blindfold. Then, I will pleasure myself with you. Afterwards, you will be released and taken back to where I met you. And, as I said, -- you will be well-paid." "Wait a minute-- you want to tie me up, blindfold me, then fuck me?" I didn't ask how much I would be paid. ""Yes," she said, "that's the idea. I will tie you with one had in a slip-knot so that if you become frightened, you can pull it loose. I will tie you with these"-- and she opened the wardrobe and took four neckties off a hanger. There is no pain or danger involved. In fact, I can guarantee you pleasure." "Then why the games-- why the kinkiness? "It is what I wish to do-- and you should not ask questions. Remember, you will be able to release yourself rather quickly if you must and you will be paid. It's your obedience that I am paying you for." I was a little afraid--, but she was small-- almost bird-like-- and if I could get one hand free, as she promised... "Undress yourself and lay on the bed." Her voice was commanding. I did so, and she gently tied my right wrist to the bedpost in a slipknot with a silk tie. "You see, if you wish, all you have to do is pull, and your hand will be free. She then proceeded to tie my other limbs. Finally, she took a velvet blindfold off the dresser and placed it over my eyes and tied it securely. As she did so, I tried to rub my face against her tits. There was almost nothing there to rub against. I wondered what it wold be like when she fucked me. "Are you comfortable?" she asked. I settled in to the bed ad pillow, which were indeed comfortable. It was just slightly unnerving to be naked in front of someone I couldn't see. But then my attention was captured by soft hands rubbing my body. They ran lightly up and down my body, soft and warm, pausing occasionally at my nipple or my groin. I was becoming aroused. A warm hand took my cock and massaged it. My cock became complete erect. The hand withdrew and I heard Madame Leleu suck in her breath. Apparently she liked my erection. I heard some rustling-- like someone getting undressed-- and then I felt the bed move as she climbed onto it. She took my cock in her mouth and I just about came on the spot. God, she was good at blow jobs! I'd never felt anything that good before. I felt her moving, straddling me and easing down on to my erection. Her weight settled on to me as a slid easily in to her vagina, and I heard her sigh. She began a gentle sliding motion, slow and easy, raising her ass off of me and then lowering it again, allowing me to penetrate deep into her pussy. And that's when I realized something was wrong. The sensations I was feeling were wonderful, as she gently rode me, but the weight was all wrong. Madame Leleu was a petite woman-- lightweight, almost like an adolescent in body size. Whoever was fucking me was considerably heavier. My mind took a little while to process all this: apparently Madame Leleu was watching while someone else fucked me. It felt so good , I didn't want it to stop, but I was a little peeved that I had been lied to. Whoever was riding my cock was good at it, and I heard her breath coming faster and faster. I wanted to see who it was, but I couldn't budge the blindfold without releasing one of my hands. I let her continue, feeling her become more and more excited as she rammed her wet pussy down onto my pole. When I thought she was about to cum, I yanked my right hand, and sure enough it came free from the loosely tied necktie. In one smooth motion, I released my hand a pulled off the blindfold. I was looking at young woman with a flushed face and bouncing tits whose eyes were closed as she approached the point of all ecstasy. She apparently didn't notice, but there was a sharp gasp from Madame Leleu who was standing by the side of the bed with her hand inside her blouse. I looked at her and said, "You lied." It was just at that point that the woman who was pleasuring herself on my captive cock came. A series of short sharp grunts came out of her as she shuddered on my rod, finally collapsing forward onto my chest. I freed my other hand and put both arms around her, feeling the warmth of her still shivering body. I turned her face towards mine and kissed her delicately, licking her lips and chin until she responded by forcing her sweet, hot tongue into my eager mouth. But I kept my eyes on Madame Leleu who was sliding her other hand down into the waistband of her skirt. She slid her hand down inside her and slowly rubbed it up and down while she continued to massage her tiny tits. "You lied," I said again. "I can do what I want," she replied as she rubbed her crotch beneath her skirt. That made me mad. I didn't like the feeling of being paid to amuse someone else, I would have fucked the woman on top of me and maybe even have let the skinny old rich bitch watch, but I didn't like her thinking that she could buy me. I pulled the head of the woman still straddling me close to my mouth and I whispered something in her ear. A moment later she slowly nodded and eased her self off of me. Madame Leleu was still rubbing herself and from the look on her face she wasn't too far away from cumming. The woman I had fucked released my other hand and feet from the neckties and then we both stood up from the bed. Madame Leleu's hands was moving fast now on her pussy and she was starting to moan. The woman, (who I assumed was Marie, the maid) and I moved to either side of the old woman and grasped her arms, pulling her hands out of her blouse and her skirt. She gasped and struggled to break free of us, exclaiming and shouting. We paid no attention to her struggles or shouts and forced her down on to the bed. I held her down as she writhed and tried to get free, while Marie tied her wrists and ankles one by one to the bedposts with the ties. In no time at all, we had her tied down and helpless. She was red-faced and still pulling at her bonds, but she wasn't shouting anymore. "What do you want-- what are you going to do to me?" "There will be no pain or danger," I told her mockingly. "In fact I will guarantee you pleasure." I liked how angry she looked as I used her own words against her. I didn't want to hurt her-- I didn't want to do anything to her against her will-- I didn't want to rape anyone. But, I wanted to make her want my cock inside her. She had deceived me into thinking that she was fucking me, and I wanted her to find out what it was really like. I hadn't minded Marie riding my cock, but I had minded being lied to and used by this old woman. I looked at her laying there and decided that she needed to feel the humiliation of being looked at naked. I reached over and ripped the front of her blouse, popping the buttons, exposing her flat little titties, covered by what looked like a training bra for 10 year olds. "Marie, do we have any scissors?" I asked. The maid looked a bit hesitant, but after a nod from her employer, she walked to a dresser and rummaged for a moment in a drawer before walking back and handing me the scissors. "Do whatever he asks you, Marie," Madame Leleu said, "otherwise this monster will become enraged and injure you." I almost laughed out loud at the formality of her speech, but I managed top keep a straight face. Marie knew I wasn't going to hurt anyone, but she managed to look suitably frightened and nod. Madame Leleu clearly wasn't frightened. I leaned over again and snipped the bit of material between her bra cups, which I then pushed to the side, exposing two saggy mouthfuls of tit with dark red, pointy nipples. "Marie," I asked, "would you please lick Madame's nipples?" Before she could respond, Madame Leleu said, "Do it." Marie leaned over the bed and hesitantly licked one of the woman's nipples. Then she moved to the other side and flicked her tongue over the other red bud. As I watched they both hardened. "So, Madame Leleu, that arouses you?" I wanted her to admit to being turned on-- but it might take a while. She was still angry. "It does not," she said resolutely. "What is your name?" I asked her. "Madame Leleu, as you well know," she replied. "No, your first name." "I will not tell you," she said. "Marie, do you know?" I asked the maid. She shook her head. "Then we shall proceed to find out." I was going to make the old bitch tell me her name and then beg me to fuck her. I took the hem of her skirt and pulled it roughly up around her waist. She was wearing old fashioned silk stockings held in place with a garter belt-- and no panties. Her pussy was hairy but neatly trimmed and she had drops of moisture on her bush. The lips were pink and slightly parted. I looked at her pussy for a long moment, then into her eyes. She looked back at me without fear. I looked at her pussy again. Then back into her eyes. I took one of her petite feet in my hand and rubbed it. I ran my hand up her silky leg. I cupped one of her tiny tits and caressed the nipple gently, then harder. I looked into her eyes again and saw just the faintest hint of arousal. "Marie, would you like to help me get Madame aroused," I asked the young woman, who was watching everything with eager eyes. Marie hesitated, looking at me first , then at Madame Leleu. I should have realized she'd be worried about her job. "Do as he says, Marie-- we do not want to make the big man angry." She smiled at Marie as she said this, and I realized two things: one, she was giving her maid permission to play with her body, and two, she was possibly even prepared to enjoy it. She was quite astute and she knew that I wasn't going to get angry or hurt her. "Marie, I want you to gently rub the Madame's pussy with your finger." Marie obediently got on the bed and ran her finger down the slightly open of slit of Madame Leleu. From the look on her face, I could tell that Marie was going to enjoy torturing-- maybe teasing is a better word-- her mistress. Marie made little doodles with her finger on Madame's pussy lips, stroked the softness of her mound, twined her fingers in the curly bush that grew around her gash. As I watched, Madame's pussy lips went from pink , to red, to almost purple, and they swelled with surprising speed. In just 5 minutes or so, her cunt was a deep crimson, glisteningly wet, and wide open. I knelt on the other side of the bed from Marie and lowered my face close to Madame's honey-pot. I deeply inhaled the scent of her aroused cunt and and looked with fascination at the drops of moisture that were beaded up around her vagina. And the I indulged a fantasy that I had had for a long time. "Marie? Lick her." Marie looked at me first with questioning eyes, then at Madame. She was still worried about her job. "Go on Marie—lick me," whispered Madame. She was starting to thrust snatch upwards a little to try and touch my face with her pussy. "Wait!" I said. "Let's make her ask us nicely. If you want us to lick you, you'll have to ask us politely," I told her. "Please Marie, would you lick me?" she said. But that didn't sound right to me. I wanted to hear lust and desperation and desire and need in her voice. I wanted her to beg for it-- to beg another woman to lick her cunt. "That wasn't convincing," I said. After three or four tries she finally got it right. "My pussy is on fire-- I need-- I need you to touch me again, I need to feel you inside-- inside my pussy. Please! I'm begging you-- your tongue-- lick my clitoris-- put your tongue in me!" I watched delightedly as Marie slowly lowered her tongue onto Madame's shining cunt and began to probe it gently, long slow licks from bottom to top and then a pause as she attended to Madam's clit. Madame was happy-- I could tell by the look on her face and the way she hissed "yessss". Marie was happy-- I could tell from the soft moans coming from her and the way she began to wiggle her hips. I was delirious-- one of my favorite fantasy's being played out just inches in front of my face-- one hot woman licking another towards orgasm! I couldn't wait any longer. I gently pushed Marie's face aside with my own and lowered my mouth onto Madame's steaming love box. I plunged my tongue as deeply as I could into her pussy and tried to force it all the way down her love canal and find her g-spot. Of course I couldn't-- I'm not Mick Jagger, after all, but my face was crushed up against her throbbing cunt which rhythmically pumping up and down and coating my face with her pussy juice. Every cunt tastes different and hers tasted slightly of almonds. I stopped for a moment and watched Marie slide a finger into her own pussy. Bait and Switch I was ready to fuck Madame and she was ready to be fucked-- almost. "Do you want to be fucked-- do you want me to penetrate you? Do you want to feel my cock filling you? Do you want me to cum deep inside you?" I whispered these things to her in between long slow licks, pausing to press her clit with my tongue. Marie was frigging herself faster now, and her eyes were half closed as she approached orgasm. "Yesss," moaned Madame, "yes, fuck me, fuck me hard." I was about ready to cum, but I wanted to tease her a little bit more. "You have to tell me your name," I told her. "Please fuck me-- please, please cum in me-- pleeeeeease!" "Your name?", I asked, giving her pussy another long, slow lick. She clenched her teeth, but I tongued her clit again, and she whispered something. "I couldn't hear that," I said. "Regine," she moaned, "Regine." I could take it no longer. Who could? I was kneeling over a thrusting, dripping snatch, and the cunt's owner was begging me to fuck her. What would you do? I plunged into her hard and all the way and she let out a satisfied and satisfying moan. I wanted her to moan like that every time I thrust into her. I fucked her hard, intent only on making her cum because I knew that I could cum at anytime myself. Suddenly her arms were around my neck, pulling my face down to her hungry mouth, and as she locked her lips over mine she let out a long squeal land her whole body began to shudder with ecstasy. That's what I was waiting for, and I began squirting my load into her heaving pussy. I collapsed on top of her and felt her shuddering under me, her silky, skinny legs locked around my thighs, her arms holding me close to her flat chest. She was panting and in between her deep sudden breaths she was kissing my neck. Marie lay down next to us and threw an arm over us both, while nibbling my shoulder. After a while I got up and got dressed. I wanted to leave. "How do I get home?" I asked Madame. "There's a buzzer in the foyer-- the chauffeur will come and you can tell him where you want to go. Also , there's an envelope on the table next to the front door for you-- as promised." She said all this in a drowsy, satisfied voice. I went down the stairs, trying to think things through. There was the buzzer, which I pushed, and the envelope on the table. It was unsealed and I looked inside. 600 euros. That would pay my rent and buy my groceries for a month. I went into a room that opened off the foyer. It was a formally appointed salon, complete with a writing desk. I wrote Maria's name on the envelope and carried it back to the table in the foyer. It couldn't be easy to work for that dried-up old bag and Marie deserved whatever she could get. I opened the front door and the Mercedes was pulling up to the steps. I went down and got in. On the drive back to my apartment, I thought about what had happened. Nothing-- except that I had been tricked. If Madame Leleu had simply said to me, " I want you to fuck my maid while I watch", I would have gladly done it. But I just hated being taken for a sucker. Did she think I couldn't tell the difference between her skinny ass and Marie's much more attractive body? In any case, I had my revenge-- I knew her first name, and that, it seemed to me, was more of a humiliation to her than being licked by her maid or fucked by me. Oh well-- you live and learn. Next time a rich French woman invited me to get in her car I'd be much more cautious-- I'd ask her first if she wanted me to fuck her or her maid. Bait and Switch Copyright 2010 Christopher D. B. Lana's was packed tonight. A large club that sometimes hosted nationally known bands, Jake had been concerned that despite a strong following, his band wouldn't be able to fill the place. He was also pleased at the number of hot ladies on the dance floor, dressed to impress showing lots of cleavage, and legs nicely displayed with short skirts and high heels. Jake was winding down a dazzling guitar solo, taking a little longer than usual for added effect as this was the last song of their second set. He turned to one side, made eye contact with Matt the drummer, who then brought the song to a pounding conclusion. Although the crowd was screaming for more, they would have to wait for the band to take a short break. This would usually mean just enough time to use the restroom and grab another beer after standing in line for both, but Jake could tell this break was going to be something more special. A busty brunette, who was practically spilling out of her skimpy white tank top, had been dancing in front of him for the past few songs, eyeing him seductively. She boldly stepped up onto the low stage in her leather mini skirt and sexy stiletto heeled ankle boots as Jake was putting his Stratocaster on its stand and switching his amp to stand-by mode. "How long is your break?" she asked him over loud dance music that the club's deejay was now playing on the high-powered sound system. "About twenty minutes," he replied. "That should be enough time if there is something on your mind." Jake gave a sly grin and the young lady reached down to lightly brush her hand against the crotch of his tight jeans and slowly licked her glossy red lips. She then gave a brief nod of her head towards one end of the stage, and they walked off together in that direction. Being a large venue, Lana's had a backstage dressing room, which was something rare for those used to playing the local bar circuit. Although the band had brought a small relish tray and some drinks to set the room up like they were big time rock stars, they decided it best to mingle with the crowd instead of hiding out in the dressing room during breaks. Jake knew this would give him some privacy for a satisfying blowjob or a quick romp on the oversized leather sofa that had undoubtedly seen some action before. The couple walked down the dim corridor beside the stage and entered the brightly lit dressing room. Jake was stunned when he saw that his ex-girlfriend Mindy was sitting in the high swivel chair in front of the lighted mirror. Kicking a spike heeled boot against the counter below the mirror, she spun the chair quickly around to face him. "Hello, Jake. It's good to see you." The tone of her voice was menacing and Jake turned to leave the room, but as he did so the door was closed and locked by another woman who must have been hiding off to one side. Raven, or Mistress Raven as she had insisted Jake call her in the past, now blocked his only exit. She was wearing a dark blue business suit, the skirt a little higher above the knee than the average lady executive might wear, and under the suit jacket was a white satin blouse unbuttoned just enough to be seductive. She stood imposingly in shiny black pumps with tall dangerous heels. As sexy as she looked, Jake was intimidated. Raven had her mane of long flowing dark hair pulled back in a thick ponytail, as was her fashion when she punished him, and she was holding her leather riding crop, which had stung Jake's backside many times in the past. He quickly turned to the sexy lady who had lured him back to the dressing room. Her demeanor had suddenly cooled and she now stood close to Raven. "Good work, Julia," Raven said as she momentarily turned to the mysterious brunette. "Despite having had some training, Jake is still a little slut boy. I knew it would be easy for you to lure him back here." "As for you," Raven said, thrusting the tip of her riding crop at the center of Jake's chest. "I've called you several times last month and you've turned down every invitation to come over to my house to be punished by one of your ex-girlfriends that you videotaped in your bedroom. You've forced me to take my show on the road, so to speak, and now you're the guest of honor at our little backstage party. Take off your clothes!" Raven commanded. Jake hesitated for a few seconds and Raven quickly flicked her riding crop up between Jake's legs. His jeans were only minimal protection against the leather tip as it slapped the base of his balls and he doubled over clutching his groin. "Now that I have your attention, take off your clothes. You will be naked when you are punished," Raven ordered. "We have about fifteen minutes," Julia said calmly, glancing at her slim gold wristwatch. "That should be more than enough time for something quick and painful," Raven said dramatically to her companions as Jake hastily removed his clothes and then instinctively knelt down in front of Raven. Although Raven was pleased that Jake had humbled himself to her, she grabbed him by the shoulders and roughly spun him around so he could see Mindy sitting high above him in the hairstylist's chair. "Before we get started, why don't you lick Mindy's boots and beg for forgiveness, or at least plead for her to take it easy on you," Raven suggested. Mindy only responded by hooking the tall heels of her knee high black patent leather boots on the rail of the chair's footrest. Looking up at her from the floor, in her boots and a bright cocktail dress, she was every bit as beautiful as Jake had remembered. However, the stern look on her face made her just as intimidating as Raven. He immediately got to work, licking and kissing the pointed toes and tall heels of her shiny black boots, and then paused. "Please, Mindy, it was years ago," he groveled. "I know I was unfaithful to you and didn't erase that video like I promised. I'm nothing but a slut like Raven says, but please don't whip me or spank me or whatever else you have in mind." "Get back to work," was Mindy's cold response as she nudged the toe of one boot towards Jakes mouth. All he could do was worship her boots some more, and when he tried to beg and plead again, Raven said, "We've heard enough from you. It's time for your punishment." Mindy got out of her chair, and Raven ordered Jake to stand up. He was ordered to bend forward slightly so that his forearms rested on the arms of the stylist chair. It was then that Raven and Julia each started securing his wrists to the chair's arms with wraps of silver duct tape. Although he was extremely worried about what punishment there was to come, Jake noticed that Raven briefly examined Julia's bondage job, which was just as secure but the wraps of tape were not as neat as her own. Checking her watch again, Julia said they had ten minutes before Jake was due back on stage. Was she just Raven's friend, or perhaps a dominatrix in training? "I'm the opening act," Raven announced, emphasizing the point with a loud crack of her riding crop on the back of Jake's right thigh. He stifled a yelp of pain, assuming that crying out would only get him a wide strip of duct tape across his mouth. The following blows of Raven's crop on his buttocks were not as severe, as if she were simply warming him up. "My flogger, please," Raven politely asked. In the reflection of the dressing room's mirror Jake saw Julia reach into an oversized black leather purse and pull out a whip he had never seen before, one with an elaborately carved wooden handle and numerous tails of wide black leather strips. The whip found its mark squarely on Jake's bare ass, and across his shoulder blades. Painful as it was, having been flogged by Raven before, Jake sensed she was holding back. When Julia said they had only five minutes left, Raven paused. "Its now time for the headline attraction, Jake. Your former girlfriend was delighted that I contacted her and gave her the opportunity to punish you," Raven said as she handed her flogger to Mindy. The tails of the flogger stung terribly as they landed squarely on Jake's upper back. He couldn't help but cry out in pain. "Please silence our guest," he heard Raven request. Through tearful eyes Jake saw Julia approaching to his left and heard the distinctive sound of duct tape being pulled and torn from the roll. With his mouth now sealed, Mindy continued, this time flogging his buttocks. As before, not one stroke of the whip glanced off or landed with a weak blow. Despite the fact that his body and mind were overcome with pain, he still managed to wonder if Mindy hadn't been taught in advance how to properly use the flogger. He could picture Raven giving her proper instructions down in her basement playroom. Assuming Mindy had practiced on another man, Jake wondered if it was someone else gullible enough to be lured in by their beauty, only to realize too late what they had in mind. "You cheating son of a bitch," Mindy said, her voice somewhat winded as she continued to flog Jake. "You walked in here like some stud about to get laid and now you're just a sniveling weasel." When Jake was sure that his backside must be shredded raw, Julia said they only had two minutes left. Mercifully, the whipping stopped. "Since you were so rude and declined all my invitations to come over and play, I'm going to leave you something to remember me by," Raven said in a threatening tone and began rummaging through the large purse. Jake's eyes widened as he saw Raven holding a butt plug in one hand, greasing it up with some kind of lubricant. The plug was not very long, but it flared out extremely wide just before tapering to the base. "I can tell from your reaction that you know what this is, but you've never had one of these up your ass before," Raven mocked. "This will teach you not to decline my invitations from now on." She ordered Jake to spread his legs, kicking his feet apart with her high heels. He felt the greasy tip of the plug as Raven lined it up with his anus and then slowly inserted it. Raven said something about the butt plug being an encore number, but Jake couldn't hear her clearly. He was too preoccupied with pain as his sphincter was stretched to the point that he felt he would be split in half. With the plug fully inserted, Jake was moaning and felt as if he was going to pass out. Mindy gave a low evil laugh, and then someone knocked on the door. "Jake! You in there? We're on!" He recognized the muffled voice behind the door as Christopher, the band's keyboard player. Raven was making sure all of her things were packed away. It was clear to Jake that they intended to leave him bound, naked, and plugged. Then Mindy had a list minute idea. "I'm going to take a little souvenir," she told Jake. Mindy picked his jeans up off the floor and emptied the contents of the pockets onto the counter below the lighted mirror. "Let's go!" called John, the bass player, as he pounded on the door. Jake heard the lock being released and then booming dance music as the door was opened. "We were just leaving," Raven said calmly, and Jake heard three pairs of high heels clicking off down the passageway. "Jake! What the hell?" One of his band mates called out. Their looks of concern however quickly turned to snickering, and then rolling laughter. They had recognized Mindy as the three ladies made their exit and quickly realized that what had taken place was some sort of revenge. Knowing what a cocksman Jake was, just made the situation more amusing. One guy said it reminded him of a bachelor party prank from years ago. Christopher, resourceful as usual, produced a pocketknife and cut Jake loose. When Jake quickly explained that his jeans had been stolen, a band member who had worked out at a gym earlier that night went out to his car to retrieve an old pair of sweat pants. Jake was squatting on the floor, gritting his teeth and trying to extract the greasy plug from his ass, much to the amusement of his band mates, when the club's manager stepped in the door. "I don't know what the hell kind of freaky shit you boys got goin' on back here but you was s'posed to be on stage ten minutes ago," he exclaimed. "Now git out there and play some music or I'm docking your pay!" Later that night when Jake was able to mindlessly chug through the power chords of songs he had played hundreds of times before, his guitar strap chaffing one shoulder still raw from the earlier flogging, the rest of his backside aching, and his butthole sore and uncomfortably greasy, he was able to consider his position. He had no doubt that Raven would be calling him in the near future with an invitation to come over to her house to be punished by one of his ex-girlfriends. While he had endured a few such punishment sessions to date, until tonight none had been so devious and humiliating, baiting him into a trap, and then abandoning him when it was over so that he would be discovered by his friends. Knowing his band mates, and the sometimes small world of local musicians, people would be having laughs at his expense for many years. Bad as that reality was, Jake was certain that Raven would arrange something much worse if he declined her next invitation. The only thing he could do was to wait for Raven's inevitable phone call.