Palau Palsu: Love For Sale

He smiled again before leaving. "Iris will be here shortly, sir. You may order snacks and drinks from the menu on the bedside table whenever you're ready."

I put down the menu I'd been browsing when she entered the room.

Chapter 11

"Good afternoon, sir. I'm Iris. Thank you for choosing me. What would you like me to start with?" Her voice was as cool and refined as I remembered, but for a moment I didn't recognize it; rather than the proper English accent I remembered, she sounded like everyone else I'd spoken with. A local.

I'd deliberately had my back to the door when she'd entered. A bit of cheap theater, perhaps. I wanted to see her expression when she recognized me. But when I turned to face her she didn't show a flicker of recognition, just nodded agreeably and shifted to better highlight her figure. Despite the beard and longer hair, I'd thought she'd know me.

"Hi, Iris. I'm Richard. Let's talk a little, first. No need to rush; we've got all evenin'."

I searched her face; still no trace of awareness. After a moment it hit me: as often as we'd talked, we'd only spent a few hours face to face, over two years before. And she'd never heard me use my native Texas accent. Other than my general build, I didn't look or sound anything like the man she remembered, and she had no reason to expect me to be here now. Lena might have seen through the differences, but to Ceci -- 'Iris' -- I was just another of the hundreds of men who'd paid for a few hours of her time.

I smiled. I'd wondered if she'd try putting up a front, and show me what I wanted to see. But if I wanted, I had a chance to compare 'Iris' with the Ceci I thought I knew. How far I could push it?

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Iris." I gave her a slow, appraising look. "I must say, you're even prettier up close. You're a lovely woman."

I meant it. She was just as attractive as I recalled -- even this close up, she still could have easily passed for a woman a decade younger. Only the slightest hint of crows' feet at the corners of her eyes gave away that she was no longer in her twenties. Her bare breasts, so like her daughter's, were as shapely as I'd always suspected. If I hadn't known the truth I'd have thought the smooth black collar encircling her throat was an ornament.

Like Lena, a smile transforms her face. It looked genuine.

"So pretty I'd like to see all of you. Can you drop your sarong?" Her smile broadened. She gave a little wiggle as she tugged the waist loose and let the wrap slide down to puddle at her feet.

I kept my face deliberately neutral as I looked up and down her nude body. I saw she'd regrown her dark pubic patch. She stayed motionless as I walked slowly around her, looking her up and down from all sides. Surprisingly, her nipples were puckered erect -- she seemed pleased by the attention I was giving her. Judging by her smile, she was enjoying herself.

"Come sit with me, and let's talk." Like the rest of the room, the sitting area was set up for sex; the chaise lounge was like a stretched version of the overstuffed chair, both arm-less for better access. When I kicked my shoes off and swung my legs up onto the lounge, she smiled and settled gracefully next to me, pulling my arm around and holding it in place cupping a firm breast.

"What would you like to talk about? You've already paid for me -- it's not like you need to use flattery or small talk me to lure me into bed." Her comment sounded playful, not a real objection. She dropped her free hand to rest on my crotch in unspoken emphasis.

I squeezed her breast. "Perhaps I like to spend more time playing with my toys." I felt her shiver slightly. Her response seemed real -- I could feel a stiff nipple poking against my palm. She giggled as I tugged at it.

She pouted playfully. "You don't want to fuck me now?"

I laughed. "Of course I do! But it's better if you have a chance to enjoy it too. No need to hurry. You can order yourself some snacks and drinks if you'd like. You're a very sexy lady, Iris. Let's take our time and have fun."

She gave a wicked smile. "Oh, I like the sound of that! But I'm no lady. You have me for the whole evening, and the second time is always better. Let me get you off first, then we can take our time."

Still smiling, she tugged me to my feet and began unbuttoning my shirt.

How far did I want to take this? I already knew my worst worries could be forgotten. Her cheerful bawdiness was too natural to be forced -- 'Iris' seemed to be enjoying the game we were playing as much as I was.

She was playfully professional as she undressed me, giving smoldering glances and impish smiles as she carefully removed and folded each item of clothing. I wasn't wearing much, just a light cotton shirt and slacks, but she stretched things out as long as she could -- even individual socks were given a couple of minutes each.

Iris had saved my boxers for last -- by then, I was achingly hard. Her next smile wasn't 'impish', but positively devilish. If her "Ooh! I can see we'll have lots of fun!" as my cock popped out sounded practiced, she also sounded happily sincere.

This time, I tugged her to her feet, pulling her into a standing embrace. My hard cock was sandwiched between us as she nestled her head on my shoulder and leaned her body closer to mine. I felt the spikes of her nipples pressing against me for just a moment before she laughed and stepped back.

Her eyes twinkled but Iris's voice was artfully innocent as she asked "Did you want something?" Perhaps she could tell I was laughing inside - my fierce glare earned nothing but a tinkling laugh.

Still laughing she tugged me back to the chaise lounge and pointed imperiously. "Sit! Let me take care of that."

Iris slid gracefully to her knees before me and took my swollen cock into her hands. "So big!" She had palmed and opened the condom with practiced skill; I didn't realize that she had it until she was already rolling it in place.

She giggled at my startled expression and gave the sheathed head a light kiss. "Better safe than sorry, no?" With another devilish smile, Iris leaned forward and sucked my cock into her mouth.

I love blow jobs. What guy doesn't? I'd had quite a few over the years, from many different ladies. One of the things I'd learned is that enthusiasm counts for a great deal -- even if her technique isn't as practiced, a girl who's enjoying herself is usually a lot more fun than one who's just trying to get you off as fast as possible.

Though she'd been unpracticed at first, Lena had genuinely loved everything about oral sex, both giving and receiving. As I enjoyed the sensations of her mother's talented mouth I wondered if it was an inherited trait.

It would have been ludicrously easy for 'Iris' to get me off; it had been a long, long time since I'd been with a woman. By now, Iris -- Ceci -- had to know all the ways to get a man to cum fast. Instead, she seemed to delight in prolonging things, constantly varying her technique to bring me maddening close to the edge without quite reaching it. Watching her face -- so like Lena's own -- with my cock buried in her mouth, lips tightening and relaxing in time with the hollowing of her cheeks was an incredibly erotic experience.

An incredibly stimulating experience -- though I tried vainly to hold back, I could sense that I was rapidly nearing the edge. So could she.

Until now, her hands had been wrapped around the base of my shaft, only the head and the first few inches in her mouth. Now, though, her hands dropped to brace herself on my hips as she leaned forward; suddenly, smoothly, my cock was sliding down her throat until her face buried itself against me. It was too much; my hands locked behind her head, holding her in place as my body erupted.

As soon as I had control again, I released my grip, allowing my softening cock to slide from her mouth as she pulled herself free.

After a few deep breaths, she smiled proudly. "Did you enjoy that?"

I leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "You know I did. Thank you. You surprised me; most women don't try to deep throat me -- I know I'm pretty big."

She gave me a cheeky grin as she felt her throat. "I noticed. I wanted to see if I was up to the challenge."

With another grin, pulled the used condom free and swayed to her feet. She was back almost immediately with a soft cloth and a basin of warm water to give it a careful cleaning.

***

We clinked our beer bottles together once more and put them down. Iris nestled comfortably against my shoulder and giggled as my thumb idly circled a firming nipple.

"I think someone's starting to recover! Are you ready for your soapy massage now?"

I sighed. I'd taken this pretense as far as I cared to. Further than I'd meant to. I was genuinely pleased that she was comfortable with herself and the world she'd been thrust into, but I was here for Ceci, not 'Iris'. Reluctantly, I sat up straighter and turned to face her.

"I'd love to. But I'd really like to know more about how you're doing first, Ceci. I'd wondered about you." With a conscious effort, I'd put away my Texas accent and switched back to the one she was familiar with.

Ceci stiffened; she hadn't expected her real name. Her eyes searched my face; they widened as she finally looked past the disguising beard and hair. I saw an expression of shock cross her face, but she had good self-control; within moments, except for her visible paling, she looked convincingly calm.

"Richard? Rick! Is it really you?" Except for a slight quaver in her voice, she managed to sound calm, too. But her control had slipped, and her oh-so-proper British accent had returned.

"I must say that you're looking very good, Ceci. I had worried about how you and Lena were adapting to your new life. It seems to suit you."

I could see that hit home, but I hadn't expected her to slide to her knees and start crying.

"Rick, I'm so sorry! Please don't blame Lena -- everything that happened to us was all my fault. I was a stupid bitch and ruined everything for both of you. I'm the one you should hate, not her. Please tell me you don't hate her!"

"I don't hate Lena." My voice was gruffer than I intended. I tried without success to soften it as I continued. "I blame her for going along with your hare-brained scheme, though. Ceci, I'd always thought you were a smart woman. How could you have ever thought that what you did would help?"

I glared at her. Even now, the memory had me seething. "What you did was insane, even before you got Lena to join in. And let you let them record you! I know you're not usually stupid -- how could you have ever thought something that idiotic was a good idea? Ceci, I saw your videos -- I was furious when I saw what happened. Killingly furious, at first."

She flinched.

I paused to reel in my temper. My voice was icily controlled as I continued. "No, I don't hate Lena. I've got the money to buy her remaining indenture, just as you'd hoped. But even if I give you most of the blame, you both chose to do everything I saw on that video. You both chose what you've been doing for the last year. How many hundreds of men have you fucked? How many has Lena? I'm not giving her any choice: she'll be warming my bed again. Hopefully, we'll both be happy with that, but our relationship can't ever be the same."

Tears ran silently down her face as she nodded her acceptance of my words.

My voice sharpened. "Tell me, Ceci. Were you right? Have you 'come to enjoy my work' as you expected? Are you happy now that you're an experienced whore?"

The tears continued to flow, but her voice was almost steady. "Yes, I am, more often than not. I have many regrets, and I wouldn't have chosen this life, but I'm usually happy. And yes, I'm good at what I do. I like fucking. I'm a very good whore."

"And Lena? Is she happy? Is she a 'very good whore' too?"

She flinched at the venom in my tone, but Ceci nodded again. Her voice shook a little as she told me: "Except for her regrets, yes she is. Yes, she seems to enjoy the work. Yes, she often seems happy. And yes, I think she's a very good whore, too."

She stiffened herself as if expecting a blow, then continued: "I encouraged her to be one. I told her that when you don't have any choice you should try to do a good job and enjoy what you can. I'm glad she's able to enjoy her work. If she wasn't able to do that I don't think she would have survived; at first, I was afraid she might kill herself." She swallowed and forced herself to look me in the eye. "She still loves you, you know. Even if she's happy when she lets herself live in the moment, I've heard her cry at night too many times. She cries because of what she gave up, and because she's sure you must hate her now. So hate me all you like. Punish me if you want. But please don't hate Lena." Her strained voice held nothing but raw truth.

It hit hard. I looked away so she couldn't see my face and only looked back once I had my expression under control again. But my voice was much softer as I continued.

"I already told you that I don't hate her, Ceci. I'm pretty sure I still love her. Even after all that's happened -- all she's done, what she's become -- I want her back."

It was even softer as I asked her. "So, how should I punish you?"

Her face had relaxed. Even though the tears were still rolling, she looked almost happy. Her voice was steady as she told me. "However you like. These rooms are soundproof. I won't press the panic button. As long as you don't leave any marks and I'm alive when you leave, no one will ever know."

Crazy woman. I was pretty certain she meant it.

"Stand up!" She obeyed.

"Look at me!" Her eyes stayed locked on mine. I kept my face deliberately cold as I looked up and down her nude body. Surprisingly, her nipples were still hard and swollen. Was that arousal or fear?

"Come here." I led her over a chair and pulled her roughly down across my lap. Ceci was fairly tall compared to most of the women I'd seen here, but she still couldn't have been more than a handful of inches over five feet. And despite her curves, she's fine-boned; I had no trouble locking both her wrists behind her back in my left hand.

I lectured as I spanked her, starting with her right cheek and alternating with each word. It must have hurt; I didn't hold back, even though I kept my voice level and conversational almost the whole time.

"Don't" <smack>

"ever" <smack>

"do" <smack>

"something" <smack>

"that" <smack>

"stupid" <smack>

"ever" <smack>

"again" <smack>

"you" <smack>

"crazy" <smack>

"little" <smack>

"SLUT" <SMACK>

I'd put more emphasis -- and force -- on the final word, but my hand had stung with each blow. By the last, my hand was numb and her bottom was glowing pink.

"There. You've been lectured and punished. Ceci, please don't ever do something like that ever again. You hurt Lena. You hurt your husband. You hurt me. And you hurt yourself, too, you silly little bint!"

I didn't give her time to react -- as soon as I'd finished speaking, I scooped her up to cuddle against my chest. "I don't hate you either, Ceci. So try to forgive yourself."

She clung tightly. She was sobbing again, but somehow she sounded different. Relieved, perhaps almost happy. I kissed the top of her head before going on.

"You know, Ceci, I really was angry with you when Lena told me what the two of you had done. Especially when Lena hung up and refused to talk with me! It was hard to hold it, though -- I'd come to know you pretty well during the previous year. I worried about her, but I worried about you too. When I saw the two of you being caned, when I saw you both crying at the end ... I would have given almost anything to hold Lena and comfort her. But I realized I wanted to hold and comfort you, too, Ceci. Because it wasn't just Lena I cared about."

"Really?" Her voice was so low I could barely hear her.

"Really. I may not have been in love with you, but I realized I loved you a little, too. I still do."

She nestled a little closer. I held her firmly in place as her body relaxed and the tears gradually slowed.

"Oh, and Ceci? My condolences on Clayton's death. Whatever he did, I know that he loved you and Lena very much. And that you both loved him. I'm very sorry for your loss." I realized that I meant it; he might have been a stuffed shirt, but I'd never doubted his love for his family. Whatever his sins, he'd paid the price in full. Divorced or not, I knew how much his loss must have hurt her.

Ceci looked up, scanning my face carefully before slowly nodding her thanks.

After a long pause, she spoke. Though tears ran down her cheeks, her voice was almost serene. "That's really true, you know. That's why we had to sneak around him -- when he saw what was being demanded, he wouldn't even consider it -- he told me that nothing was worth that price. Then after what we'd done, he still forgave me! Rather than fight the charges against him, he told us to turn Crown witness. To give them enough they might be lenient with us, and wouldn't bargain with our blackmailer instead. It hurt, but he divorced me to protect me -- if he didn't care about me, why should his enemies? He told the prosecutors everything once they agreed to go easier on Lena and me."

She gave a tremulous smile. "I loved that man so much. I tried my best to wear him out that final night before we all turned ourselves in." Her voice dropped as she added. "Lena and I both miss him."

What could I say to that? I hugged her and continued to silently hold her close.

I don't know how long we stayed like that -- a few minutes? Half an hour? But eventually, she began to stir. I slid her to her feet, then stood myself.

"Feel better?"

Amazingly, her smile was cheerfully playful again. "Actually, yes. I think it's time to give you some more of what you paid for." She tugged my hand and led me towards the oversize bath.

Ceci kept giving me knowing looks as the tub filled. She knew I was interested; she'd felt my cock swelling beneath her bottom while I held her. But she also knew that I liked her -- Ceci the person, not 'Iris' the massage girl -- and I'd been more interested in comforting her than taking immediate advantage of my opportunities.

My cock was still swollen, thick, and nearly erect, as we climbed into the tub. And she had fun teasing me as we soaked. Ceci was an accomplished flirt -- as she'd claimed, a 'very good whore.' Brushing against me, little tickles, languorous stretches that highlighted her taut curves or briefly raised a long elegant leg above the water ... She made it a game; without ever touching my cock directly, Ceci managed to wordlessly promise all the delights she hoped we'd explore together. I pretended to ignore her hints and did my best to make her work for it, but by the time we finally climbed out of the tub again my swaying cock was more than "nearly erect."

Ceci winked at me as I settled onto the camping-style air mattress she'd set beside the tub. Even if I was pretending disinterest, my body's response gave away how much I wanted her. I didn't care; making her work at overcoming my 'reluctance' while knowing I could have her just by reaching out was just a game I was enjoying playing with her.

Judging by the dark puckered spikes of her nipples Ceci was enjoying playing it with me, too. I could pretend reluctance, but it was a pretense she easily saw through. By now, after a year's experience, she was very good at teasing men, and all I'd done was give her an excuse to tease harder.

I was glad I had.

I've had soapy massages before, but none quite like Ceci's. Her technique wasn't unusual; after I stretched out face-down on the inflatable mattress, she scooped mounds of suds and froth from the tub and used her whole body to spread them over mine. She was skilled at it, extremely skilled, but the difference wasn't technique -- it was attitude.