by Vixen, Laura
Call Girl Bondage
Laura Vixen
Copyright 2012 by Laura Vixen
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.
Call Girl Bondage
“Shit!” The curse came out louder than Helen intended and she looked around the lobby of the student accommodation. The nineteen year old girl let out a sigh of relief when she saw that there was no one else around and turned back to the source of her annoyance. Putting her hand inside the mail box she pulled out the official looking brown envelope and was pretty sure she knew what it was even without having to open it. Closing the mail box she made her way along to her room and threw her bag on the floor as she entered. She then stepped across to the table and chair, put the envelope down and sat to stare at it. Finally, with a loud sigh she picked it up again and broke the seal to pull the letter out. It was, as she suspected, a final demand for her college fees. The sum of one thousand dollars jumped out at her and she groaned, wondering where she was going to find that sort of money.
Helen put the letter down and went to make herself a cup of coffee. She then moved back to the table and sat down again to consider her options. Even though she was working nights as a waitress, the money she made came nowhere near enough to pay the fees. In a couple of months she had managed to save over one hundred dollars, but at that rate she would never pay off her college fees and the danger was that she would be kicked off the course long before she had the money. She considered leaving the course but that was really the last option as she wanted the qualifications, needed them in fact, if she was going to follow the career path she wanted. The knock on her door caught her attention and she stood up to go and answer it.
“Oh hey Cassie,” she said when she saw her friend. “Come on in. I was just having a coffee, do you want one.”
“Sure,” Cassie answered. “You’re sounding a little down. Is everything OK?” Without saying a word, Helen walked across to the table and picked up the letter, handing it across to her friend and then going to make a cup of coffee.
“That’s a lot of money,” Cassie said as they moved to sit down. She handed the letter over and Helen looked at it again before finally stuffing it back in the envelope.
“A lot of money I don’t have,” she said.
“The waitressing not cutting it?” her friend asked.
Helen shook her head and then took a sip of her coffee. “It pays OK,” she said as she put the cup down again, “but unfortunately nowhere near enough to cover what I need at the moment. If I don’t find something else I might end up having to quit college and work full time.” Cassie started to say something and then hesitated. Helen frowned. “What?” she asked.
Cassie still hesitated. “OK,” she finally said. “You didn’t hear this from me.”
Helen’s frown deepened. “Umm…, didn’t hear what exactly?” she queried. Cassie said nothing as she leaned down and searched in the bag on the floor at her feet. She finally straightened up again and held out her hand. Helen saw the small business card and reached out to take it. “College Escorts,” she read out and her eyes opened wide. She looked at her friend. “Is this what I think it is?” she asked.
Cassie nodded. “You can keep the card, but like I said you didn’t hear about the agency from me.”
“Are you working for them?” Helen asked and Cassie shook her head. “But…, you did right?” went on Helen.
Cassie hesitated yet again and then nodded before she started to talk. “I found myself in a fix last year when I lost my part time job. I didn’t have the money for my accommodation and a friend gave me the card. I didn’t use it for a while, but eventually reasoned it was a short term thing. Do it and get the money and then quit. So I went to work for them.”
“Jeez,” said Helen quietly, suddenly looking at her friend in a different light. “Isn’t it a little…, well…, tacky.”
Cassie shrugged her shoulders. “I treated it as business,” she said simply. “I was desperate for the money quickly and that was a way of making it. It seemed the best way to get out of the problems I was in and I don’t regret it.”
“I don’t know,” said Helen, looking at the card again.
“That’s your decision to make,” went on Cassie. “But like I say it’s a way to quick money. Use it to get what you want and then get out.”
“How does it work?” Helen asked.
“The woman that runs the agency is called Michelle,” started Cassie. “You need to go and meet her once to see if she will take you on. If she does it’s then a case of phoning when you have free time and seeing if she can hook you up with someone. When I was doing it she seemed overrun with clients and I never phoned and didn’t get a job. She only uses college girls and I’m guessing that plenty work for her.”
“I don’t know,” Helen mused again.
“It’s not like you are selling yourself to a life of prostitution,” said Cassie. ‘The onus is on you to go to her for work. When you need the money you call her and if you want out you just stop calling.”
“So how much can you make?” asked Helen.
“I was getting seventy five dollars a client when I did it,” answered Cassie. “Not sure what Michelle actually charges a client and whether the going rate is still the same now, but even at seventy five dollars a pop, one thousand dollars isn’t that difficult to make.” She drained her coffee cup and stood. “Anyway, I have classes to get to. Keep the card.” She picked up her bag and walked to the door and Helen stood up and followed.
“See you soon,” said Cassie and Helen closed the door after her friend left. She moved back to the table and sat toying with the card. The idea started to grow on her, but when her next class was due she finally put the card in a drawer and left.
Over the next couple of days Helen mulled over her dilemma and came closer and closer to phoning the number on the card. She took Cassie’s line of reasoning that it was strictly business, although she struggled to convince herself entirely. Selling sex really did seem a tacky idea, but if it got her out of her problems then it was something she needed to consider. She finally pulled the card from its hiding place in the drawer and before she gave herself a chance to change her mind, dialled the number.
“Hi, Michelle speaking,” said the professional sounding voice on the other end of the line.
“Umm…, hi,” started Helen. “A friend gave me your card and I wondered if you would consider me for your agency.”
“A new girl,” said Michelle. “I’m always glad to hear from them. You are at college I take it.”
“Yup,” answered Helen.
“OK, well you need to come and see me as a first step,” Michelle went on. “When can you come?”
“Straight away if possible,” said Helen. She wanted to get it over and done with and going without delay left less chance that doubts would creep into her mind and stop her.
“Yeah, I can see you now,” said Michelle. She gave the college girl her address and then hung up the call. Helen quickly grabbed her town map and searched for the name of the street in the index. She flicked to the correct page in the book and saw that the address wasn’t overly far from the college. Grabbing her coat and bag, she left the room and decided just to walk. The journey took a little over twenty minutes and she eventually worked her way to the correct house. The residential property seemed an unlikely setting for an escort agency, but she hesitated for only a few seconds before making her way inside the ga
rden gate and up the path to the door. Helen rang the bell and fidgeted nervously as she waited for it to be answered. She almost jumped when the door swung open and looked to see an older woman smiling at her.
“Michelle?” she asked.
“You must be Helen,” the older woman said. “Come on in.” She stepped aside as the college girl moved inside the house and then led her along to the lounge. “Take a seat.” she said and Helen moved to sit on an armchair. “OK,” Michelle went on. “You’ve seen the card so I am guessing you are fully aware of the services I offer clients.”
Helen nodded her head. “You sell sex.”
Michelle laughed. “Yup, that I do and I need to make sure the girls that work for me are willing to give it. I don’t want any complaints coming back to me from clients. It’s bad for the reputation. So…, I take it you don’t have any problems with selling sex.”
Helen shook her head. “I need the money and want it quickly so am prepared to do anything to get it.”
“Fine,” said Michelle. “Stand up and take your coat off.’ Helen did this and the older woman stood and moved across to her. “You’re cute she said, gripping a hand onto Helen’s chin. A nice body too she said, dropping her hand and patting Helen’s butt. I think there are plenty of guys that will go for you.”
“How much do I get paid for a job?” Helen asked.
“If I take you on the going rate is eighty dollars for you,” Michelle answered. “You call me and ask for a job. I set it up and let you know the arrangements. You do the job and then come here to get the money. You can come after every job or just once in a while. I’m not in the business of cheating anyway, so if everything works out and I don’t get any complaints about you, I’ll make sure the money is here for you when you come.”
“OK,” Helen nodded. “It all sounds fairly simple. Will you take me on?”
Michelle stood looking at her for a few seconds. “Sure,” she finally said. “I’ll arrange one job for you and if there are no problems we can take it from there. Are you available tonight?”
Helen suddenly hesitated as she moved from just talking about being an escort to the reality of it actually happening. “Yes,” she finally said, not wanting Michelle to get the impression that she was having doubts.
“Are you sure?” Michelle went on. “You seem…”
“Yes,” Helen said more confidently this time.
“OK,” the older woman said. “Give me your mobile number and I’ll call you back within the hour.”
Helen wrote down her number and then was led back to the front door of the house. “I’ll call you soon,” was Michelle’s parting shot as Helen left. The college girl walked back to her room and before the hour was up her phone rang. She picked it up immediately to answer the call and recognized the older woman’s voice.
“OK, it’s all set,” Michelle said. “The client is staying at the Bryant Hotel, Room 103. His name is Mr. Robinson. Be there at eight o’clock.” The phone went dead and Helen felt her nerves kicking in. She looked at her watch and saw that it was after four. It gave her a few hours before she needed to be at the hotel and she went to have a shower. When she was dried she wondered what to wear. Her usual outfit of jeans and t-shirt seemed inappropriate and she decided to call Cassie. Her friend picked up the call on the second ring.
“I did it,” Helen said.
“OK,” Cassie said. And…”
“Umm…, well all I’ve done is meet Michelle and she’s set me up for tonight,” went on Helen.
“OK,” said Cassie again, but didn’t go on.
“What will I wear?” Helen asked.
“Oh…,” said Cassie drawing out the word. “Well, I usually just wore a short skirt and blouse. I don’t think it really matters to be honest. If the guy is like any of the ones I met, he’ll want you out of the clothes as quickly as possible. Just make sure that you wear some nice panties and a bra.” The two girls chatted for a little while longer, but Helen eventually said bye and hung up the call. She moved to her wardrobe to find something to wear, finally sticking with Cassie’s suggestion and choosing a mid-thigh length blue skirt and white blouse. She opened a drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe and searched through her underwear, finally settling on a pair of lacy powder blue panties and a matching bra. Looking at the clock on the bedside cabinet, she saw that it was only five o’clock, and slipped on a robe to go and get something to eat. Her stomach was churning, but she managed to get through a sandwich and a cup of coffee. She sat at the table musing over what she was doing and felt her nerves increasing. Moving to a cabinet, she opened it and pulled out a half full bottle of wine, reasoning that some alcohol might calm her down. She sat drinking a couple of glasses, but as the clock ticked past six o’clock finally went to get ready. Grabbing a makeup box, she went to sit on the bed and used a small mirror to help her apply a little mascara, blusher and lipstick. The final appearance was simple, but attractive and she finally stood to move to the wardrobe. Helen slipped on the panties and bra and then covered them with the skirt and blouse. She then stepped into the only high heels she owned and checked her appearance in the wardrobe mirror.
“Escort girl,” she said out loud and was surprised to feel the flicker of excitement that the words brought out. “Slut,” she teased her reflection and finally stepped away from the mirror. She waited until the hands of the clock were nearing seven and finally left to ride the bus to the hotel. A mixture of nerves and exhilaration ran through her as she got closer to her destination and Helen felt her legs shaking a little when she stood as the bus neared her stop. Finally getting off, she walked the last bit of the journey to the hotel and saw that it was nearing eight as she approached. The building looked imposing as she walked up to it and the enormity of what she was doing suddenly hit home. She wondered if she had the nerve to go through with it, but the thought of the final demand for her college fees was the spur that pushed her on and she walked up to the hotel entrance and made her way inside.
The Bryant Hotel was one of the more up-market hotels in town and she was impressed by the luxurious surroundings as she walked inside. The elevators were to the right and she kept her head down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone as she walked across to them. She suddenly realized that she was only going to the first floor and seeing the sign for the stairs at the side of the elevators decided to use them. The first floor hallway looked empty when she reached it and she followed the signs that pointed in the direction of Room 103. Helen looked at her watch when she reached the door and saw that it was ten minutes before eight. She considered waiting until it was eight, but finally decided just to knock. The sound of movement from within caused her nerves to rise again, but as the door opened she put a smile on her face.
“You must be Helen,” the man said as he opened the door. He looked to be in his late forties at least, but his face was still handsome and his body appeared muscular and in shape.
“Umm…, yes,” she answered. “And you’re Mr. Robinson?”
The man smiled. “Yup, that’s me. Come on in.” Helen moved past him inside the room and felt the shiver trickling along her spine at the sound of the door closing and locking. No turning back now, she thought. “Would you like a drink?” Mr. Robinson went on and Helen turned to look at him.
“Yeah, sure,” she answered, hoping that a little more alcohol would work to calm her down. “Do you have any white wine?” The older man walked across to a cabinet and poured a glass of wine, as well as a whisky and then moved back across the room to sit on a sofa. He put the glasses on the small table in front of it and patted the seat beside himself.
Helen hesitated a little, but then walked over to the sofa and sat down. Mr. Robinson picked up the glasses again and handed the wine to the college girl. “Cheers,” he said as he touched his glass to Helens’. “Here’s to an enjoyable evening.”
Enjoyment was the last thing on Helen’s mind, although the nerves churning inside were still tinged with a hint of exc
itement at what she was doing. She gulped down half the wine in one go and put the glass back down. “So are you in town on business?” she asked.
“Yup,” the older man answered. “I arrived this morning and will be leaving again tomorrow night.”
“Are you in town often?” she went on.
“A couple of times a month,” Mr. Robinson replied. He took a sip of his whisky and moved closer so that he could press his thigh against hers. It looked like he didn’t want to waste any time on small talk and as he closed in on her, Helen’s first instinct was to move away, but she controlled her nerves and held her leg in place.
“You’re a pretty girl,” Mr. Robinson said. “What age are you?”
“I’ll be twenty in a couple of months,” she replied.
“So still a teenager then,” the older man said and Helen heard the slight tone of excitement that crept into his voice. She decided to play along.
“Yup, still a teenager,” she said and shuddered as the hand reached out to rest on her knee. The older man massaged the skin, his hand slowly sliding higher.