Service

I got out of my car and walked the short path to the front door of the small house. It was not in the worst street but certainly not the best in town; nothing too special about the house itself but it had a lot of memories for me. I took out the key from my pocket, replacing it with the keys from my car; opening the door as silently as I could I stepped inside, locking it behind me. I slipped my shoes off and slid them to the usual place under the side table in the short hall. There was a client's large handbag under the table; I made sure to place my shoes to one side.

I surveyed the room to my right; nothing much had changed since my last time here, simple couches, small TV in the corner. There was never much clutter here; sometimes I had to remind myself that no one really lived here, that no one ever came here except for nights like these. I dumped my keys, wallet and phone on the table. I turned to the left, and on silent sliding sock covered feet, I moved down the hall. I knew the layout of this house like my own, I knew the room they waited in.

Gauze curtains covered the opening. I took the opportunity of the opacity to witness the scene inside. Candle light flicked its warm orange glow throughout the room, highlighting Mistress's hair as she bent over the shape on the bed. It was a girl, wrist straps held her on the bed. She was stripped and wore a black mask over her eyes. She looked in her early twenties, mousey brown hair and soft curved body. The girl was moaning to the Mistress's attention. She was using her favourite tool, a feathered crop, to tickle and tease. The girl on the bed turned her face toward me and the covered doorway. It felt as if she was looking at me through the mask. Her mouth opened as she licked her lips, it seemed as if she was anticipating my taste.
I stepped back my breath caught in my throat. How could she see me through the mask? The girl's head turned a little, as if she was startled by my movement away from the door. Mistress looked up to her movement and seeing me, signalled for me to get out of my clothes and to come in.

Shaking my head to clear the thoughts of the girl looking at me, I turned and went to the bathroom, where I undressed, placing my clothes in a neat, folded pile on the bench where I always left them. Leaving my underwear on, I returned to the room, this time gently pulling aside the curtain and walked in. Mistress greeted me with a hand, which I kissed as I bowed my head to her.

“My dear,” Mistress began speaking to the girl on the bed, “He has arrived. He shall begin to pleasure you.” I climbed on to the large bed between her legs, kneeling I leaned forward and kissed her breasts and belly, working my way toward the real goal.
I often helped Mistress out with things such as this, mostly though, it was for couple therapy, where the Mistress would make husbands and boyfriends watch as I sexually pleasured their wife/partner. The Mistress believed that jealous men made better lovers; sometimes it worked. Sometimes they came back, and had better sex together than they ever had alone. Sometimes, I had to defend my self from an attacking partner and sometimes the man left, or joined in. Either way, I did as I was told.

It was not often that I was required for these one on one sessions with the Mistress, but this client wanted an invisible man to pleasure her.

I had moved down the girls body, reaching her pubic mound. I shuffled backwards and rested my feet off the edge of the huge bed, my butt sticking up in the air I began to let my mouth and tongue do all the work. Feeling her body respond as her moans increased, I knew I was hitting the right spot. This was what the Mistress used me for; oral pleasure was something I just had the right moves for. Somehow I seemed to be able to read a clitoris and know just how to treat it to bring out the most for the owner. Not to sound too up myself, I also have had a lot of practice and instruction from the Mistress. Basically, it was what I was paid for and I did a good job.
I could feel the girl getting wetter, and had moved my hand to start rimming her vagina when I felt the Mistress's crop between my legs. She spread me wider and moved a hand in to pull mine back, whispering in my ear “Don't touch that yet.” The Mistress pulled her hand back and ran her fingers along my belly and groin, causing an almost instant response. The hand lingered as my dick grew. Pulling the front of my underwear down, the Mistress let my erection free.
This was a technique used often at this point. The Mistress would further humiliate a husband or partner by making them pleasure me while I pleasured their love. Mostly, though, this signalled the time for the lover to take over, the Mistress only making them touch me for a short while before making me change place with them. Sometimes, though, the guy would enjoy the situation so much I'd have to show restraint and not ejaculate. There was no such trouble with the Mistress doing the honours, it was as if she was trying so many techniques that I had trouble staying focused on the task in front of my face. She squeezed, then stroked and pulled and held and pinched, managing to maintain my erection with no fear of anything else occurring.

At an unseen signal, the Mistress moved her hand, and with a touch to my shoulder pulled me up. I looked to her, was told to strip, and was handed a condom packet. I did as I was told, dropped my pants, and tore the packet open. I gave my member some attention and once fully recovered, I encased my penis in it's rubberised sheath. I really hated the feel of condoms, not that someone in my business who had any sense did not use them, I just found that I gained no pleasure from them. Then again, I guess it was not my job to get pleasure but to give it.

Once again, I mounted the bed and moved myself further up between the girl's legs leaning forward, I positioned my erection just over her pelvic mound Sliding back, I felt the head of my penis run down her vaginal crease. Pausing, I moved forward again, feeling the gentle resistance give way as I eased myself into her vagina. Beginning slowly, I arched my back and moved myself in and out. The girl moaned and I saw her neck muscles tighten and her arms pull against the restraints. Her face turned to look into mine and once again I had the feeling that she could see me through the mask. Then her face turned away as I managed to hit a perfect spot. I noticed that the Mistress had left, leaving me alone with the client was something she had never done before. Thinking to myself that she would be back soon, I began to pick up the pace, getting into a good rhythm, I felt the girl ride along with me.

I then began to feel something different with my penis, it no longer felt like I was wearing a condom Fearing I had broken it, I began to pull out, but felt resistance. I could still move back and forward but if I tried to extract my penis, I could not move any further. I began to open my mouth to call out to try to get away, the girls hands reach out and pulled my head down.



The girl's lips found the man's and she kissed him hard and long, opening her mouth to cover him completely. Releasing him the girl hooked her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper into her. Panic formed in the man's eyes as he struggled against her strength, his jaw flexed and moved as he tried to call out to his Mistress. Covered in sealer the man's mouth would not open, he grunted in surprise pulling a hand to his face, it came away sticky with the slime that completed encased his lower face. Moaning in panic he tried to tear away the stuff on his face, the girls hand caught both his arms pining them to the bed.

Legs pumped him, the girl forced the man to keep fucking her. Rocking him backwards and forwards, as she held tightly on to his his penis inside her.

“Just go with it” she whispered to the man, though her mouth never moved. He suddenly felt compelled to, and began to pump and push willing himself to ejaculate to end it and let his flaccid self slip out of her and escape. She writhed below him tossing her head as he fucked her harder, trying to come as quick as he could.

The eye mask had moved aside in the girl's thrashing movements reviling her eyes. Twin glowing diamonds of bright light. The man's gaze moved towards to light, starred straight into the girl's face. His mind fell into the blinding light, piercing him as the light flooded his whole body with pain. At the same time his primed body released it's hold and pumped his semen into her. With another groan and twitching thrusts the man's eyes closed and he fell, deflated, on to the girl.

Pumping his prone body a few more time with her strong legs, the girl carefully disentangled herself from the sweat-covered man, releasing the flaccid penis. The girl arranged the seed giver in a comfortable fashion and removed all the sealer from his mouth. His breathing was returning to normal as sleep took over. Being careful to protect the sacred seed she had harvested, the girl dressed and moved down the hall. The Mistress waited in the lounge, slack jawed and doe eyed. The girl released her mind with a flick of her head and let her body fall asleep as well. Carefully putting on her dark sunglasses and grabbing her white cane from her bag, she collected a key from the side table and unlocked the door. Moving outside, the girl used the key to locked the door and slid it back under the jam.

The girl tap tap taped her way home, safe in the knowledge that she had enough seed to finally save her family.

The Lost and Broken - Chapter 2 - Julie

Why did I always have to deal with the shitty jobs? It’s as much their band as it mine, I thought as I drove passed the entrance again. I cursed and did a ‘fuck it’ manoeuvre turning around to screeching tyres and pulled into the entrance of the sign place Gerard had given me. Already feeling like this was going to be an onerous task I sat for a minute to compose myself and prepare for the traditional male response to a girl like me.
‘Now I don’t expect you to understand all the technical terms so I’ll give it to you plain, we’ll make the (insert name here) or fix the (household appliance) using (all sorts of hard for a woman to understand parts) and it’ll cost you (a fucking shit load), love’. All said with a fatherly grin and knowing glint in there eye.
Feeling this growing pit of mixed anxiety and fear tinged with anger I headed to the main entrance, to be greeted by a kindly faced man in his mid 50’s.
‘You from that band of young Gerard’s?’
‘He… he told you I was coming?’
‘Sure, I’ve set you up with young Simeon. He’s a graphic design student, and really lovely boy’ almost as an after thought he added ‘He’s gay!’
I was in a quite state of shock as he led me down the passage way to a vacant office. Then promptly left me muttering that he’ll get Simeon to come on down.
I took a seat arranged my bag and paperwork on the table in front of me. I could feel the pressure in my chest building up, it always got worse when I was nervous or stressed. I sat myself straight backed in the chair, tilted my head back slightly and did the exercises my specialist taught me. Breathing carefully and deeply, letting the pressure subside, and my body take control of itself again. When I managed to catch it early and let the build up dissipate naturally there was no need for the drugs that left me crippled for days.
Hearing a noise in the room I opened my eyes to a guy of about my age, starring at me, mouth open and looking for all intent and purpose like a rabbit caught in the headlight. It looked as if he was trying to decide to leave, stay or just vanish into the floor.
‘You trying to catch a fly in that?’ I asked
He must have blinked at least twice before his brain engaged and he closed his mouth. Muttering some kind of apology he sat, tipping the folders he was carrying into a pile on the desk top.
‘I’m umm Simeon umm good morn... ah afternoon’ as an after thought he thrust his arm out to me and half stood up banging his knee on the edge of the desk. ‘Christ, fuck, sorry’. Red faced he looked at me with the sweetest blue-green eyes I had ever seen. He was thinner then the boys I like, but I guess that his preference was not for me either, there was something about him that made me want to know him more.
We spent the next twenty minutes talking business, getting the sign designed just right, the measurements I had taken of the front of the bass drum, it turned out, where wrong. He said that it was fine and he’d come to one of our rehearsals and measure it again. He smiled at me after saying this, not in the usual male chauvinist way but in way my friends would treat me, like it was a mistake that anybody could and would make. It was almost like he was asking me to forgive myself for the error I made.
I caught him glancing at me many times at first worried looks that I would tell on him for swearing. Sometimes he looked just like he did when he first came in the room, his eyes would linger on me, not lusting not leering, almost like he was trying to remember all of me for all time.
I couldn’t help but smile back at him, God I felt like I thirteen and the bracer filled smile of Tim O’Rourke could turn me red in a heart beat. It was not the flushed feeling of sex, just the rightness of the moment, like I could tell him the whole truth about me. Like I wanted him to come to our rehearsal and stay for the beers after, and then be there at breakfast and coffee and lunch and dinner… just to become part of my life with me. I wanted to be able to ring him up and talk about the crap the rest of the band layered on me, how my boss kept trying to look down my top, how shitty my boyfriend was.
I must have been smiling at him, starring into his soft eyes and sweet face that still held the soft trace of freckles, cause he had stoped speaking about the time frame to make the sign after he got the measurements. His stare sharpened and he bit his bottom lip just slightly.
‘I want to draw you’, his whisper was almost lost with the pounding of my heart in my chest.
His stare was so intense I couldn’t look away; I was falling into those eyes, the eyes that held so much sadness, worry and fear. The longer I looked the deeper I went til I could see hope, joy and fascination. He wanted to draw me and I knew that I would let him, let his eye take all of me see the scars on my chest; see the pain I hid form everyone else. Let him take all of me.

The Lost and Broken - Chapter 1 - Simenon

‘What do you want with me?’ Julie looked my right in the eyes.
‘Want? Why does it have to be a ‘want’? Like, I have to get something from this. Can’t we just be nice and have a conversation?’
‘Sure all you want is conversation’
‘Typical! In your head all men want is sex sex sex! Well not everyone thinks like that you know’ I turned to walk away from her.
‘No wait!’ She said ‘I’m sorry; it’s just… well… Jerry came over last night’
‘(sigh) Not the fuckwit Jerry?’
Julie sat down on the lounge near the potted plants. ‘Is that really what you call him?’
‘Well yeah… isn’t that what he is?’ I went to sit down opposite, not wanting to get in Julie’s personal space. I knew she needed a zone around her especially after a visit from Jerry. ‘Why haven’t you done something about him?’
I could see the tears in her eyes. ‘Get me a coffee, no cream!’ she said fumbling in her handbag for a tissue. I paused in the half sitting position for a second, then giving a grunt of assent I went to the counter and ordered two coffee’s, one no cream the other with caramel flavour.
Being friends with Julie was a constant battle, between love; I adored her beauty, grace and inspiring ways; and loathing; her constant pushing away and her string of bad relationships. Yet I always knew when she needed someone to talk to. I don’t know if was empathy or just that I have known her for such a long time and I pick up on the visual clues, either way I knew she needed to get something off her chest.
By the time I returned with the coffee’s she had found a tissue, wiped her eyes clear and was lighting up a cigarette. ‘You know we have to move outside to smoke that’ I said.
A glare from Julie reminded me that she was quitting, again. Grabbing her bag Julie got up and walked through the door to a vacant two seater table. Throwing herself down into an aluminium chair she looked at me. ‘Better?’
‘Much!’ I grinned back at her.
A poked out tongue was all I got as I handed over her coffee. We sat in silence for a few minutes; Julie smoked her cigarette sitting in the chair one leg folded over the other starring out at the street as the world passed us by. She looked like a movie star or a super model - graceful and confident. I do not know if it was the cigarette or the image media has always portrayed smoking women as, but Julie had The Look. I fell in love with her again that day. I wanted to be the cigarette as it moved in her fingers, as it slipped in-between her red lips.
Her changes always got me, from a school girl tease, to a helpless lost girl, to this woman of beauty and grace I saw before me. Smiling to myself I lent back in my chair and enjoyed just watching her.
‘You’re a perve’ Julie said.
‘And what are you going to do about it then?’ I smiled back
‘Nothing… Jerry’s an arse!’ Julie stamped out her cigarette ‘Why did I ever take him back? Fuck! You know I should just get you to choose my men for me’
‘Really? You like my men do you? Somehow I can’t see Luke with you… the whole breast thing’ I waved my hand over my chest.
‘I don’t mean your boyfriends, I mean you should screen my boyfriends… hey why don’t we double date with my next man?’
‘Wait a min, what the hell happened with Jerry?’ Where the hell was this going? I thought.
‘Jerry? I’m over him, I kicked him out last night’ she paused ‘I thought he was going to hit me last night…’
‘Oh fuck!’ I leaned forward towards Julie ‘Are you ok hon’?’
‘Yeah… I’m fine, I don’t want to talk about it… you know me, move on!’
‘This is not a “move on” kinda thing. Did he hurt you?’
‘No. I just thought he was going to. Look it is over, I got my keys back and he left. Ok?’
I looked her in the eyes for a second before replying. ‘You ever, and I mean ever, need to talk about this you call me ok?’
‘You know I wouldn’t’
‘Look this is serious…’
‘Move on!’
I sighed and sat back watching her as she lit another cigarette and stared out at the traffic again. Julie could be such a bitch; I knew she felt vulnerable talking about things to me as if me knowing bad things about her would make me love her any less. Women were such a mystery to me. I have had several relationships with women, some lasting just one or two nights of lust, but still when they were over I seemed to have learnt less and less each time.
Whereas with my boyfriends I always felt that we understood each other, it was almost an empathic knowledge that we either knew it was for a night, or we wanted a relationship. Like with Luke, we met at a bar, exchange numbers and planned a date for the following week. We knew that we wanted our first night together to be special and not just another one nighter, and now we are in our fourth month and loving it.
I let the moment pass and reached for my lukewarm coffee and waited until she came out of herself again. I let my mind drift back to the first time I met Julie, it seemed sometimes that I had known her for ever. I had to remind myself that it had been only a few years since she came into my life.
I was working for a design company, making advert signs for local ma and pa stores – I was basically a sign writer hidden behind the guise of an artist. It was not hard work and mostly computer based, we used stickers printed off and put on permanent backing boards then coated it all with a harden resin to protect the sign. Julie was looking for some way to make a sign for her band, a promo tool to hang in front of the drum kit or some such thing. Because I was younger then most of the other workers, and the strange gay boy of the business she was sent to talk to me.