The Sweetener - Sex Stories

The Sweetener

... but mention of her boss brought those words back. “By any means necessary.” Patricia took a deep breath. “So what am I expected to do?” Natasha gave a little laugh. “You are expected to do whatever the men want of you. But mostly they will be doing the doing.” There was a gleam in Natasha’s eye. Either she was going to enjoy seeing Patricia done to, or she was remembering her own sessions. “And what will that involve exactly?” “Who can say?” This was hardly an answer, and it certainly wasn’t comforting. Natasha continued, “You take clothes off for money in the past. This is not so different.” But it was, of course it was. Back then Patricia had been a student, making ends meet; stripping, yes, but never crossing the line. Now she was supposed to be a rising star in the world of business. And yet here she was, contemplating selling herself for the sake of a deal. It was beneath her dignity. She could still back down, Patricia thought. They couldn’t force her to do this. It was her own decision ultimately. But was it? “By any means necessary.” “It seems a shame to have to undress you,” Natasha was saying. “When you have made effort.” “Undress?” “Of course,” Natasha replied, her tone of voice indicating this was so obvious as to be beyond dispute. Her hands were already gripping Patricia’s top, pulling it over her head. Patricia tried to remind herself that she didn’t have to do this, but at the back of her mind she knew that she’d made her decision before she set foot in the ...

... house, regardless of how much she’d been kept in the dark about the true nature of the visit. Besides, the feel of Natasha’s hands as she removed the top, undid Patricia’s bra, unzipped her skirt and pulled her panties down, caused a ripple of excitement to run through her. As bonkers as this was, Patricia’s body was reacting to the situation. “You may keep stockings and shoes,” Natasha decided. “Men will like that. Men always do.” Yes, Patricia thought, men did. But when Natasha went to a corner of the room and retrieved a collar and leash, Patricia felt herself recoil inwardly. “What’s that?” she said. Natasha smiled. “Little whores need to be kept on a leash,” she said. “For the rest of the evening you are nothing but a little whore.” Patricia felt that she should protest. But then the truth descended on her once again. She was selling herself for the sake of this deal. She’d already let Vasily fuck her. She’d already turned herself into a whore. If she pulled back now, she’d have done it for nothing. Meekly she let Natasha fix the collar round her neck and attach the leash. She didn’t protest at all when Natasha produced the black fabric that would serve as a blindfold. It was the one thing that would preserve her anonymity, after all. As everything went dark, the blindfold tied securely, Patricia asked herself one last time if she was really prepared to go through with this. As before, those fateful words bounced round her skull. “By any means necessary.” “Come!” Natasha ...