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The term pain slut raced through my mind
Let me tell you, being laid off from my office job at first was great, it was like a vacation. I slept in late every day, went to museums, matinee movies, all the things the nine to Fiver’s could not do. But soon the unemployment ran out, and so did the good times.

I need to find something if I want to keep eating. I was tired of being just a lowly secretary and wanted something different, something new, an exciting. The newspaper had lots of listings for medical and managerial careers, among others that I was interested in, they called for college degrees, technical training, or years of experience. Which I had none of. How do you get the experience, if no one will give it to you?? Sheesh.

Well, those I skipped, all I have is a high school diploma, a pretty face and a good body and a great mind. Manufacturing, fast food, and bar and restaurant waitress, jobs also did not make my list of prospects. Yes, I was ready to give up and search the office help section when I spotted it. One interesting ad for female escorts caught my eye. Hmm, idea of getting paid to go out on dates sure appealed to me. You can be sure that I wasted no time in applying.

In the process I did learn something new about myself. I read the ad again. It offered flexible hours; I liked that part it meant that I could still sleep late in the mornings. Yes, just read lazy into that.

The advertisement stated they wanted escorts who could work with unusual clientele. I wonder just what that meant, oh well. I have dated a variety of men from a doctor to a dock-worker, and many types in between, and of course I could converse with almost anyone. I was intrigued, this job sure did sound like just what I was looking for!

The office where I went for the interview was located in an old house in an older section of town. I filled out the application. I knew the receptionist was checking me out -- they wanted attractive girls. I did not feel like I had anything to worry about, heck most of the guys I know think I am sexy. I have a trim, tight figure. My legs are long, and my ass makes a pair of jeans flare out perfectly, so I have been told. My firm breasts stand out over a lean and flat waist. My hair is cut into shag that frames my face and sets off my green eyes. I keep my lips painted a delicate shade of pink. As soon as I finished the paper work, I was told to go upstairs to see Ms. Smith, the owner.

The woman sitting behind the glass-topped desk looked me over as I walked in. She seemed to approve of my body. She was a tall handsome woman, maybe in her late thirties, wearing a long black skirt and a gray man's blazer jacket. After talking to me and finding out how I felt about dating strangers, she got down to business. Ms. Smith explained that the business was strictly legal. Things after that got a little more personal in nature. She stated that for certain very important clients she sometimes provided unusual service. Services that require unique talent and skills, okay with me so far.

Ms. Smith asked me how I felt about stripping nude in front of people, and how I felt about being touched. She even asked if I minded dating women. Never really gave that much thought, I like to think that I have an open mind. Heck I am not a prude so I answered her truthfully. I did not like being naked among large groups of individuals. That being touched was not a problem.

Ms. Smith seemed to be pleased with my answers. Her next question did catch me off-guard. "How do you feel about being spanked and disciplined?" she asked. "I don't know," was all I could honestly say to her. Ms. Smith was again speaking. "That after all is our particular specialty," she was explaining. "We have a number of clients who enjoy paddling a nude girl. Several of them will want to tie you in place while administering spankings and such." (And such?) Saying this her eyes traveled up my legs to where my butt was barely covered by a leather mini skirt. I shivered at her gaze. Ms. Smith was definitely making me feel naked with all these personal questions. I was losing my self-control; I should have had a sports brasserie on under my bare midriff top. Which now made for kind of a ticklish situation. As you can guess about now that all these intimate questions were making my nipples hard. Then she hit me the clincher -- the fee I would receive for being an employee of hers.

Ms. Smith made it clear that my services would include the type, which she had just described. The amount she stated was huge, well compared to any of the pay I have received previously! "For that kind of money," I told her, "I would try just about anything." Now was that ever a dumb statement to make on my part.

Leaning back she laughed, "They all say that, but only a few are capable of actually doing it. Want to give it a try?" That floored me, I guess I stammered a little, but I at last managed to say that I would love to. (Love to, that came from my lips?) I was sure my facial cheeks were red. I felt really hot, "That's good, but I will have to test you first," she said pressing a buzzer on her desk. "We will have to strip and spank you right here before we can send you out on a date. I had a real funny feeling in the pit of my stomach, what had I gotten myself into?

I can not possibly promise a client something that you can not or won’t deliver." Before I could say a thing, a woman in an evening dress strolled into the room. She was large and muscular but strikingly good-looking. No fat that I could see on her. She looked me up and down appraising me as everyone else had here. Ms. Smith told her to take me to the upstairs and prepare me. "Put her through a few preliminaries," she told the woman. Now what does that mean, I thought to myself.

"If she does okay, put her in restraints and then ring my buzzer. I will come up and do the actual spanking myself." She smiled at me she spoke. Now, I was getting really scared. I started to follow the woman in the evening gown out the door; not really sure of what I was getting myself into, Ms. Smith stopped me. "I'm going to use a leather switch on your ass," she warned. I stumbled, and wanted to be most anywhere else right now. "Our clientele will do that. If you can't take it, say so now."

I hesitated, but then thought of the money, I could make doing this kind of work. "I can handle it," I told her but not really sure if I could or not. I would soon find out.

The upstairs was unfinished, consisting of rough beams and plank flooring. There was an Oriental rug at one end, a few old dining room chairs assembled around it. The rest of the rather large room contained a clutter of old furniture and storage boxes. A very large oval window lit the entire area of the attic. "Okay sweetheart," the tall woman said when she closed the attic door behind us, " I am a client now. Do exactly what I tell you. Be a good little girl, and you will soon be making big bucks. When I said "Sure thing," she cupped my chin in the palm of her hand and tilted my head back saying. "Dear you must always show the client respect. Address me as Madam." She then ordered me to stand at the edge of the carpet and remove all my clothes. My tits bounced out of my top. I nervously shook my hair back and pulled off my skirt, shoes, and pantyhose. I quickly slipped my panties off then stood very nervously, not knowing what to do with my hands. She must see me shivering! This woman solved the problem for me. She instructed me to lace my finger together behind my head and to spread my feet father apart. She then walked slowly around me, inspecting my body, making me feel doubly naked, if that was indeed possible.

While behind me she said that I had a real nice ass and ran one of her hands over it. "Nice and smooth," she cooed. "Not a blemish anywhere, really built for spanking too. You should mark easily." Now what did that mean? I was soon to find out! She then stood in front of me and gazed at my bare tits and the triangle of hair between my legs. I felt like I was an animal up for sale at some bizarre auction. "On your hands and knees," she ordered, in a crisp voice. Of course I jumped at the sound of her voice, then I got down and suddenly had a strange feeling in my pussy. I was realizing what a bizarre thing I had agreed to do.

One part of me say that this was crazy, to run, to get out of there as fast as I possible could. Weird, how another part of me said what I was doing made sense. This was something new and exciting and oddly enjoyable so far. Besides it was only a simple spanking, How bad could it really be? Surely, I as an adult I could block out pain and could come through his with no problem. Yes, I can do this easily.

"Crawl out to the middle of the rug, slave girl," the woman was now commanding. "Yes, Madam," I replied meekly and shimmied to the center of the carpet on my hands and knees. I knew my ass was wiggling as I made my way to where she ordered. Why was I starting to get wet? I was made to kneel with my buttocks resting on my heels, my arms at my side, palms up. Standing over me with arms folded she ask if I was ready to be tied. Looking up at the towering figure above me, I nodded my head up and down. In a small trembling voice I managed to say. "Yes please, Madam." Where did that come from, I wondered "Excellent response my pet. Up on you feet now, and follow me," she said almost gaily.

Next, I was made to kneel in front of a large wooden support bean, my knees spread around the post. Two heavy eyebolts were embedded on each side just above eye level. Quickly my right wrist was fastend to the hook on the right with sturdy cord. As she pulled my left arm up, I realized this was my last chance to back out. Once both hands were secured there would be no escape. Oops, tool late. Could I endure this whipping? I had to know!! I didn't back out. Suddenly, it was done, and this elegantly dress woman was pressing a buzzer for Ms. Smith to come up.

I had actually done it! I was stripped down to the nude, tied to a post, and waiting for someone to whip my bare ass! What the hell was I thinking? I wondered if I was crazy, a pounding throb in my pussy told me that something was definitely going on down there. My clit was tingling and itching with excitement and beginning to emerge from its protective hood. I was hot, very sexually aroused at what was happening to me. Why was I feeling like this?

Ms. Smith entered. She held what appeared to be a long, thin, leather switch in one hand. She dismissed Miss evening gown and walked toward me, too bad, I was thinking to myself I was beginning to like her. Ms. Smith had a grim expression on her face. "Okay, little naked girl," she said, "let's get to work on that pretty butt of yours…. Shall we?" She was now standing directly behind me. I hear the swish of the switch and flinch, but felt no pain, whew easy street.. Looking back over my shoulder I saw her swinging the switch limbering up her arm. She smiled at me and asked. "If you wish to stop this my dear, just say so?" Unable to speak I shook my head no. She let the leather switch whirl down and strike my naked buttocks.

My hands wrenched against their bindings. I screeched out as a second lighting bolt seared across both cheeks of my ass. The pain was shocking but what amazed me was happening inside me. My cunt was starting to leak its honey. Ms. Smith was now kneeling next to me turning my face toward hers. "Should I gag you?" she asked. With tears beginning to fill my eyes I quickly shook my head no, I can take this easily, I thought to myself. Standing, she started again, the whack, whack, and whack falling one after another. She switched my bottom unmercifully. My ass was wiggling and squirming around trying to avoid the stinging lashes.

Looking back I could see the she was delighted at my predicament. She truly seemed to enjoy swinging that switch. I was now arching upward in my bindings, thrusting out my bare breasts against the rough surface of the post before me. Incredible my nipples were even harder and more prominent. I was so turned on I was actually squeezing my legs and thighs around the beam as if it were a lover. Was I ever confused at these new feelings. It was like my mind and body was two separate parts. Suddenly stopping Ms. Smith asks me, "Like it?"

"How much do I have to take?" I sobbed out.

"Until you learn to enjoy it -- love it!' she chuckled evilly. "This is what you're going to do for money, you little tramp. The term pain slut raced through my mind. You are going to be whipped like the whore that you really are.”

“Yes Mistress!" Her nasty words just heated up my pussy faster.

If I was made to act whorish there was nothing I could do about it; my body was acting on its own. Besides, was that not the way I was supposed to act if I accepted this job. "Whip me, Ms. Smith," I told her. "Whip me like the tramp I am. I deserve it." What was I saying? but I knew I liked it. The magical feeling in my twat were spreading to the rest of my body. The lashes were beginning to feeling more like caresses. It hurt, but I also felt really great have this woman controlling me; more confusion on my part. She was telling me I was a wanton slut. I glanced back I could see that she too like what I was saying. I'd never felt so naked in my life. Ms. Smith used her switch all over my unprotected flesh. She flicked my thighs and breasts, but always came back to my naked buttocks.

"I can find lots of customers for a gutter slut like you," she told me, as she continued to whip me. "My customers love whores like you -- whores who enjoy their work. Beg for more, you naked little slut." Oh, did I ever did beg as never before. I told her how much I wanted to give my body to all her clients who wanted to whip and beat me. Then I told her how much I wanted to strip naked for money and how I wanted to be used. I do not know where this was coming from, it could not possibly be me saying these words. I begged her for the switch saying I craved it. The more she whipped the more aroused I became.

Suddenly the lashes ceased, why did those loving caresses stop? Ms. Smith announced she was going to leave me alone to think, and that she would return later to release me. I couldn't take it; I was so aroused that I had to have some relief. I had to have something more. This was definitely not fair. I would surely go mad if I didn't achieve a climax. "No, pleaseeee," I moaned, "Don't leave me. Whip my pussy! Finger me if you wish. Do anything you want, but please do something!" I sobbed out, I could feel tears running don my cheeks. Grinning she released me from the post and instructed me to lie on my back with my arms and legs stretch out. Going to a cupboard in the corner, she returned with police style handcuffs and a long stick with black cuffs on each end, and a small cardboard box. Cuffing my hand together she place them behind my head telling me to keep them there. The stick was buckled to my knees, agravatingly it prevented me from closing my thighs.

Opening the box she showed me a little strap about half an inch wide, and about 12 inches long. Now what was she going to do with that thing? Kneeling between my outstretched legs, she tapped each of my erect nipples with the little strap saying. "You love the pain, don't you my little naked whore?"

I couldn't believe what she was saying or how I had become such a depraved slut. Now I heard myself babbling. "YES, YES! I LOVE THE PAIN! Please, WHIP ME! I NEED TO CUM!" She then really gave it to my bare, wet pussy, whipping the seam of my sex until it was red and stinging. As I trashed around on the floor she kept telling me what a slut I was. Every time I head the word, 'slut' the strap would connect with my open twat. Juices were freely flowing from my hole and my clit was throbbing ready to explode.

My eyes closed as the pain and pleasure merged, my heels digging into the floor as I lifted my cunt to receive the lashes. Suddenly it stopped; I was so close to getting off. I looked up to see Ms. Smith strapping on a dildo over her clothes! RELIEF! She was going to fuck me! "Yes! Yes!, I begged Please FUCK ME!" I panted with need. She reached down a spread my already slick and swollen slit even wider. Running the head of the dildo up and down my wet gash she oiled the head of the fake prick. She held it there just inside my hole. Leaning down she held my head between her hands and starred into my tear soaked eyes.

Her lips met mine in a passionate kiss, as her hips slammed forward, driving the dildo to my very core. I opened my mouth accepting her tongue as the hard rubber prick slipped effortlessly into my aching pussy. Uncontrollably I was pounding my naked ass up and down for dear life, being fucked by a woman was going to take some getting use to.

I was finally getting my release. I drifted off into a world of my own as my cunt began clutching and spasming around the rubber phallus. It was enough to trigger the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced..

The next thing I knew Ms. Smith was setting on the floor with my head in her lap. I struggled unsteadily to sit up. I was no longer restrained, and my sex dripping, burning with pain. As strange as it may sound to you, it was an enjoyable, satisfying kind of hurting. She hugged me. I came again, as my nipples brushed hers. Still somewhat delirious in my after-glow I return her embrace, and I came once more muttering, "Thank you, thank you!" Ms. Smith playfully swatted my ass, and I came again.

We just sat there for awhile, gently holding each other until I recovered. It seemed that almost every time Ms. Smith touched me, I came. Ms. Smith held up the dildo that she had used on me, and I hungerly licked it clean.

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