Maisie found living with Tanya very different to living with Emma. For a start, Tanya was a very different lover. She made love with men at least as often as she did with women. She was also rather less concerned about Maisie’s education and career prospects. Maisie now had to find her own way to school and to the studios of Harlot TV. Perhaps, Maisie thought, it was just an inevitable part of growing up and looking after herself. And then there was the fact that Maisie had nothing like the primacy in Tanya’s affections as she’d enjoyed with Emma. There were the two men who also shared Tanya’s flat and on occasion her bed. Karl and Anthony were nice men and both gave her the kindness that Tanya was so reluctant to give. Maisie hadn’t realised at first that they would be permanent fixtures and at first she’d resented their presence, particularly after she found out that Tanya had expressly forbidden the men to touch her.
Maisie had no objection to watching men fuck each other. After all, it was a common feature on sex television, although she found her exclusion from the physical act slightly frustrating. But even she could see that neither Karl nor Anthony really enjoyed it that much. It was only because Tanya required it of them that their lips and tongues joined together and their pricks pushed deep inside the other’s arse. And Tanya was pitiless in her demands of them: even getting them to piss on each other. And should one of them look at Maisie, as she sat arm-in-arm with Tanya, it was a cue for their mistress to slap them or to shout scorn at them. But Maisie could see the men were besotted with her. They would do anything for her pleasure, and her words of cruelty and unkindness did nothing to lessen their yearning for her. And yet she gave them so little for their pains. Just as she was giving less and less of her bodily passion to Maisie.
However, every night when Tanya was there, Maisie was expected to share her bed. Her menstrual cycle was no excuse. It might be that all that was required of her was to lick out Tanya’s vagina or to be the recipient of the spanking on her bare behind that Tanya sometimes believed Maisie was deserving of, although her misdemeanours were invariably extremely minor. In some strange way, Tanya seemed to enjoy causing Maisie to cry at the unfairness of it all and to watch her discomfort when her protestations of love were returned only with sternness and unsympathetic sneers. But at the same time, Tanya was very demanding, wanting to know exactly what Maisie had been doing and with whom. The sex which she performed as part of her job was alternately praised and used as an excuse for punishment: the very inconsistency of Tanya’s response both puzzling and upsetting her.
And then there were the men that Tanya brought back with her in the evening. Sometimes women, but usually men. They were not the most attractive men that Maisie had ever met, and she was confused as to why a woman as beautiful as Tanya, with the ability and skill to fuck with whomsoever she liked, would choose to have sex with middle-aged, fat, sometimes even ugly men. Some were older than Tanya’s own father. They were often thoroughly incompetent in their lovemaking, frequently releasing their semen far too soon, and thrusting in and out of Tanya’s vagina or arse with a monotonous predictability.
And it wasn’t only Tanya they fucked. However much Maisie might wish otherwise, she would always be brought into the lovemaking, often on Tanya’s express instructions. “Open your legs, Maisie sweetest!” Tanya would say with a tone of love and affection so often lacking when there were no guests. “Open your cheeks, so we can get inside your arse!” Tanya would whisper with a pleasant kiss on Maisie’s lips. “Put the whole of the cock in your mouth, Maisie darling! Not just the tip!”
Maisie was so won over by Tanya’s show of passion and love on these occasions that she sometimes forgot that the one who would be doing the thrusting and groping and fucking and buggering, and covering her bare breasts with kisses and sometimes nibbling her toes, was not Tanya, whom she loved, but a man she’d never met before, was rarely likely to see again, and was invariably unattractive and often very smelly. She got used to the rough feel of chin stubble on the vagina that Tanya insisted she shave, to make her look even younger. She was accustomed to the thrust of thick and short, long and thin, fat and stubby, penises thrusting into her, admittedly stiff, but not necessarily satisfying. Nowhere near as expert as the pricks whose taste she enjoyed in her professional capacity.
And the men treated her like a child. Not one of them treated her like a grown girl, with a career, deserving respect. She was always ‘dearie’, ‘sweetie’, ‘little girl’, and she began realising that it was her real, and her even younger apparent, youth that they were keen on. The thought of fucking a child was what they all enjoyed in her, as they slobbered over her, forced their rough hairy hands into her shaven crotch, prised open her anus with their nicotine-stained fingers. And gradually, she came to realise that these men, so pathetic and unappealing in bed, were senior people in the world of television and the media. Tanya was exchanging sexual favours for the more material favours they could provide for her. And not all of them were producers, executives, directors or whatever in the world of sex television. Some were prominent in the world of more mainstream entertainment, and at least one was actually a politician. Or at least he looked very much like a junior politician Maisie saw interviewed on mainstream television one day. And those in the mainstream media were often the ones most perverse in bed: the ones who liked pissing on Maisie or masturbating while Tanya lay her on her lap and spanked her on her reddening cheeks.
Maisie only gradually became aware that it was the promise of sex with her at least as much as with Tanya herself that had attracted the men to Tanya’s bed. In some cases, it was sex with her alone that was the attraction. One man with a face and body like some disgusting turtle spent the whole evening wanking while groping around on her bare body, and then finally spurting his wad of semen on her face and licking it off with his big slobbery tongue. Another was only interested in her arse and pushed his prick in deep long before Maisie was in any sense prepared for it, and grunted with extra pleasure as Maisie cried from the pain of it all.
Maisie had no way of knowing how well rewarded Tanya was for the favours she, and most particularly Maisie, were giving so freely. She knew she didn’t really enjoy it, and she particularly didn’t like it when one man actually shat right on her face. Fuck! It was disgusting! But she could see that Tanya was profiting from it. Her career was in a hyperbolic trajectory, soon leaving behind the world of sex entertainment for the more lucrative rewards of fame and fortune of the mainstream world. She even recorded a record which sold very well despite the rather poor quality of its musical content. She was featured in mainstream magazines and interviewed in rather fawning terms in glossy celebrity papers. All the while, her designer clothes became steadily more elegant, the restaurants she ate in became increasingly exclusive, and she was in the process of buying a very opulent apartment in a very expensive district of the city. And all the while, Maisie felt no better off than before. The wealth that she had was only the wealth that she’d earned, and much of that went to Tanya to help pay her keep. In many ways, her life was actually more deprived than before. Tanya no longer took Maisie out with her to the night-clubs and restaurants they used to frequent. And her life became hemmed in by work, school and the sexual demands of Tanya and her male lovers.
Maisie looked at Karl and Anthony with fresh sympathy. Never praised, never given an encouraging word, frequently humiliated. Sometimes, Karl or Anthony would be tied by a chain to the end of the bed while the other lover was being buggered by Tanya. On one occasion, Maisie herself was instructed to bugger the two men, one after the other, while they were biting and sucking at each other’s prick under Tanya’s stern watchful eye, always ready to give fresh instruction to deepen their humiliation. On occasions such as this, Maisie wondered what pleasure it was giving to Tanya. She wasn’t showing any sexual satisfaction as Maisie’s long black dildo thrust in and out of Karl’s arse, his mouth around the stiffening mass of Anthony’s prick. Even when both Anthony’s prick and her dildo crammed into Karl’s complaining anus, she showed only a strange kind of grim satisfaction. And on those moments, Maisie felt she was just like the two men: simply sex toys for Tanya’s perverse pleasures.
She didn’t see her friends very often. In fact, although Tanya didn’t exactly forbid her from doing so, she made plain that she preferred Maisie stay at home in the evenings so that she was available for whatever visitor she had planned for that night. So it was by chance that Maisie met Susan and Rosemary in the city centre one day while she was window-shopping in the high street. Susan was wearing a long tee-shirt which came to just below her hips, while Rosemary wore a plain grey skirt and a specially designed blouse that held her breasts up in a way which both contained and displayed them.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Maisie had to ask how Emma was. “Oh! She’s fine, I think,” replied Susan. “Well, I haven’t seen her for a long time. Not since Charlotte’s wedding, but I spoke to Charlotte the other day. She and Josephine and, of course, darling baby Thomas are now living in Emma’s house. Where you used to live before you started living with Tanya. We went to the house and chatted about things. Babies mostly. Emma’s gone off to a naturist resort to do whatever naturists do. Meditate or whatever. Sunborough, I think it’s called. She lost her job at the television station you know.”
“I know,” admitted Maisie sadly, feeling ever so much the guilty party. “But Emma’s alright? I heard she was dreadfully depressed.”
“She was,” Susan agreed, “but I think she’s got over it now. But anyway, how’re you? How is it living in the centre of the city?”
“It’s very nice,” said Maisie, but not with a lot of enthusiasm.
“Hmm!” said Susan. “Come on. Let’s have a coffee and a chat. I insist.”
“I’ve got to get back,” said Maisie unconvincingly.
“Nonsense, come along. My treat.”
Susan and Rosemary took Maisie to a small coffee shop, and the three sat down around two café lattés and a cappuccino. As they sat down, Susan took Maisie’s hand in her own, and smiled at the girl sympathetically.
“Are you sure you’re alright? You look quite sad? Is life with Tanya all that you thought it would be?”
“It’s not as good as it was.”
“Really. Tell me. What’s the reason for that?”
For the first time since she’d left Emma, Maisie found someone she could talk to and the relief of it was like the lifting of a colossal weight. She told Susan and Rosemary about how she no longer went out with Tanya to the night clubs. How she now had to pay for her keep. How she had sex with all the horrible men and women that Tanya brought back. How she felt she was being treated as badly as Anthony and Karl. How she was feeling quite sad that she’d left Emma.
“And do you want to go back to Emma?” asked Rosemary, who didn’t really know either of the girls that well. They’d met briefly at the wedding and that was all. She thought though that Maisie was awfully young to be a lover of someone like Emma, but she’d got used to quite a few different lifestyles and relationships since her own had began with Susan.
“I don’t think it’s right that I would,” Maisie sniffed. “Not after I hurt her so much. I think I should stay with Tanya.”
“Are you sure, Maisie sweetest?” worried Susan. “She doesn’t sound like she’s looking after you at all well. I know some people like the kind of treatment you’re getting, and I guess those two men, Anthony and Karl, probably do. You often meet people like that in my industry. But you’re not like that are you?”
“Like what?” wondered Maisie. Rosemary also frowned quizzically.
“Well … never mind …” Susan replied blushing slightly. “Perhaps … I don’t know … I mean, Emma was sometimes quite rough …” She could feel her words tangling as she tried to express delicately what she meant. “Well, whatever. If it gets too much for you, and it sounds like it might, just come and stay in my flat. You can sleep in Rosemary’s bed. After all, you’re hardly ever in it, are you Rosemary darling?”
Now it was Rosemary’s turn to blush, which she did startlingly readily, a hot reddening spreading over her cheeks and her breasts. “Hardly ever,” she whispered in embarrassed, but rather pleased, agreement.
Maisie felt curiously lifted after her chat with the two lovers. The pleasure of finding another option in her life gave her a renewed sense of freedom which the last few months had been gradually seeping away from her. Tanya had better look out, she thought.
There was no way she could speak to Tanya about her discomfort about living together. She never really asked Maisie how she felt and, indeed, from her there mostly only came demands which she made with no suggestion that there was ever any other alternative. There were never occasions when she chatted to Maisie about what she wanted. Even when they were together, making love with no one there, it was always a question of what Tanya wanted and what Maisie could give her. Maisie realised that in some strange way she was quite afraid of Tanya. And she was still very much attracted to her. Tanya was never less than beautiful, and she comported herself in such a way that it accentuated the power of her physical charms.
There was certainly no let up in Tanya’s demands. That evening was spent in a long gruelling session with Anthony and Karl, at one time with both men’s penises in her mouth. Then guiding Karl’s penis into Anthony’s arse while Tanya buggered Karl from behind, biting him quite ferociously on his neck, while her buttocks hammered back and forth into his rear. And the following night, Maisie was tied to the bed by silk cords tied to her wrists, her legs also pulled apart by silk cords around her ankles, while a large hairy man who produced films for a large educational film company, pushed his large hairy prick in and out of her arse. All the while, Tanya was pinching her nipples so that she called out in pain, and nibbled the producer’s own nipples hidden under a mass of wiry hair.
And then there was the financier who pissed on Maisie while she sat in the bath with her hands tied behind her back and Tanya pushing a not especially large dildo up the arse that must have been somewhere between his flabby buttocks. And the woman, who must have been in at least her fifties, who didn’t take her glasses off while Maisie and Tanya nibbled around the foul-tasting thin hair of her vagina. And the evening where Maisie’s foot was tied by a short lead to a chair, while Tanya, Anthony and Karl pleasured a somewhat gross man with an almost totally bald head and a stomach which had to be physically lifted for his penis to be revealed.
Finally, enough was enough. It might have been because she was especially fed up while washing traces of shit and piss out of her hair after a night with a thin man with a long thin prick that nevertheless never seemed to get a hard-on. It might have been as a result of the rather sour comments Tanya made while Maisie was listening to one of her records. It might have been because she’d had a particularly bad day at work, where, for some reason, there was just no passion to her lovemaking. Maisie was just not finding on-screen fellatio agreeable, and was not sorry when the attentive producer substituted her lovemaking with one of her guests by one of her more junior co-presenters.
As soon as Tanya, Anthony and Karl were out of the house, and before the maid came round to tidy up, Maisie hurriedly packed her possessions into her suitcases and called a taxi. She hesitated over leaving a note for Tanya. In fact she composed her leaving note for several hours in her head, but then, with a wicked smile, she reasoned that no explanation at all was much more likely to upset Tanya than any note. Whatever she wrote would probably sound peevish and a bit weak. Saying nothing at all would betray no weakness at all. As Maisie got into the taxi and was driven off to Susan’s flat, having checked first that Susan would be there to meet her when she arrived, she looked back at where she’d lived all these past few months and was slightly ashamed to recognise that her feelings towards Tanya now resembled hatred rather than love.
And soon she was with friends again. Both Susan and Rosemary were there to welcome her, to carry her bags into the flat, to show her up to Rosemary’s room which had been tidied up for, and to shower her with tea and cookies. Despite her feelings of guilt of leaving Tanya unannounced in this way, she felt a degree of elation at being free from her that was almost frightening.
Susan and Rosemary took Maisie out for a night out in the city, which included a night club playing just the sounds that she was enjoying so much these days: pumping, jumping, slamming and kicking. Susan and she oscillated together under the bright lights, neither wearing very much, in a mass of sweaty shiny bodies under the strobing lights, able only to mouth to each other whatever they wanted to say. And in Maisie’s case, it was mostly: “I’m happy! I’m so happy!”
Rosemary was less happy. She’d never really enjoyed noisy, brash places like this, and she didn’t enjoy the drugs and drink very much either. But she was pleased to see Susan’s young friend free from the tyranny of her life with Tanya, and quite enthusiastic about sharing the flat with another person.
And not just the flat, as Rosemary discovered when they got back, Maisie and Susan wrapping their naked bodies around each other. At first Rosemary was a little put out as Maisie’s tongue sought out Susan’s, and the two clung to each other, flat breasts squeezed so close together, Maisie’s long curls obscuring the two girls’ faces, and Susan’s long neck curving swan-like to the base of her short, boyish hair. Even as Maisie’s hands probed for Susan’s shaven vagina, and a finger so easily slipped through the moistness of its entrance, Susan was always mindful of her lover, Rosemary.
She eased Maisie off her, despite the girl’s protests, and smiled to Rosemary. “Come on, Rosie! Take off your clothes and join us!”
Rosemary nodded, and Maisie watched with no little interest as she undid the buttons of her blouse and unstrapped her bra. Her enormous bosom fell out from their confines, many times larger than Maisie’s and Susan’s breasts put together. So large, and round, and weighty, and pink, if a little freckled towards the top. And the nipples. Larger than many women’s entire breast. Crenulated, detailed, and, now, of course, fully erect, the nipple clearly indented towards a crater towards the centre, around which were the aureole redness of the rest of its glory. So different from the small, permanently hard nipples of the girls who’d had their breasts surgically enhanced. And a warm, bouncy, fleshy mass. Not hard and rigid like a football, but soft and welcoming. As Rosemary shuffled across the bed on her knees, Maisie immediately leapt onto her breasts, anxious to have as close a feel as she could.
They felt as homely as they looked. Underneath they weighed so much, but they rested easily on her palms, while she lifted the mass of it up, so that her tongue and teeth could better explore all that it had to offer. What bliss! What joy! Her mouth was almost filled by the nipple which had some of the hardness of a small erect penis, but tasted much better, much more delectable, with none of that strange smell that pricks sometimes gave off. And the texture of such a large nipple on her tongue was another sensation altogether. The details of the bumps and crenulations of the nipple was a texture far superior than that even Emma’s apple-like breasts or Susan’s perky nipples had to offer.
As she engulfed herself in Rosemary’s bosom, she could feel Susan’s fingers probing her crotch. One, then two fingers sliding easily in her shaven vagina, and, for extra pleasure, a thumb easing into her anus. At the same time, Susan was kissing Rosemary full on the mouth, while her lover gasped and groaned from the delight of familiar pleasure. And soon, the three were rolling around on the bed, tongues in each others’ crotches, fingers everywhere, their flesh as shiny and sweaty from passion as they had been in the night club from the exertions of dancing.
Maisie looked up at the red hairs of Rosemary’s vagina which both she and Susan were exploring and exciting with their tongues, and smiled as she saw that familiar tremor of excitement erupt from inside Rosemary, her vaginal juices squirting out without restraint, to be eagerly lapped by her two small-breasted lovers. Then she smiled at Susan, whose face smiled at her, her ivory skin in the broad grin that so much suited her. She leaned over and kissed Susan passionately on the lips. She was so happy now. And all this time, she’d stayed with Tanya! How could she have ever been so stupid? She grabbed Susan tightly, almost roughly, and her passion and gratitude erupted in her vaginal orgasms which seemed to melt the very essence of her being.