Tim Ch. 04

"Tim, that was wonderful, truly wonderful. You will make a lot of women happy if you stay in this job. Please do, I want this again and again." Kate revelled in the physical ecstasy and the thought of her own depravity, how great it felt having a new whore take her like this.

Kate clasped Tim close and would not release him, but after a brief snooze, she knew she had better get back to the party, her friends would want to experience this.

Kate dressed and took the now naked Tim by the hand and took him back to the main dining room. She got a glass of wine and offered one to Tim. Kate sat on one of the sofas and made Tim kneel before her. They talked, initially Kate explained the history behind the Roissy Society, their monthly dinners and their stable of submissives. As she played with Tim's cock with her foot, she tried to convince Tim to become one of the Society's full time slaves. Their conversation was interrupted as they were joined by other diners, all still impeccably dressed in their evening clothes. It was almost like a normal drinks party, other than most of the guests were recovering from some form of sexual excess and Tim was naked except for his collar and garter. One guest (Carrie) approached and casually tweaked Tim's nipples whilst discussing a recent art exhibition.

When they were alone gain, Tim asked, "Mistress, can I find my uniform?"

"No Tim. You have a lot to learn about your new profession. You are here for our pleasure and my friends like seeing you naked. You will have to stop being so self conscious."

Eventually Mistress Xaviera came over, "How is your evening Kate? Has Tim done kept you entertained?"

"Oh yes Xaviera, I have had a wonderful time."

"Good to hear it. I am afraid I am a little low on boys this evening, can I borrow Tim for a bit?"

Kate knew that she should not monopolise Tim's time so it was with a heavy heart that she assented. She kissed him and stuffed a few notes into his garter. Kate thought it would be fair to try to reclaim him in about forty minutes. She really wanted to feel his tongue in her pussy once more that evening.

Mistress Xaviera took Tim to the dais and told him to kneel. She then kept him under strict supervision. It was, "Tim, go and ask that gentleman if you can blow him," and "That lady is called Jemima and she is staring at your butt, offer yourself to her," and "Here comes Carrie, prepare yourself for a hard whipping." Tim was running from one client to another.

Tim was again kneeling on the dais when he was summoned by a lady in a bright yellow evening dress. She was a pretty blond with short hair parted to the right. Tim helped her out of her dress, to his surprise she was left wearing only a g-string and stockings.

She led Tim to the centre of the room, there she touched Tim's nipples, "So you are the new boy. My name is Tina. A slave must be able to take any punishment they deserve. Lie down, spread you arms and legs out."

Tina then sat on his stomach and started to lick his nipples. It felt wonderful, so deeply erotic that Tim quickly got an uncontrollable erection. This rested against Tina's buttocks. Her licking was so soothing after the abuse his nipples had endured earlier in the evening. Gazing into his eyes, Tina smiled as she produced a lighted candle and proceeded to pour boiling hot wax on his hard and erect nipples. Tim was shocked at the speed with which pleasure was turned into pain. His body jerked with pain as the wax dropped on his skin. The searing heat was incredible. Tina giggled at his pain. Tim tried to recover and spread his arms and legs out as ordered, but it took all his self control knowing the horrible pain that was to come. Tina dribbled the wax slowly, then waited and poured the accumulated wax on one of his nipples.

Tina turned around leaving Tim with the sight of her perfect bottom. She started wanking Tim, he quickly became erect again even though he knew what was to follow. Tina poured a little wax on the area just above his penis. The pain was immediate and so much worse than his nipples. Tim instinctively pulled his legs up in reaction to the pain and to protect himself.

"Tim, keep your legs apart, or I will give you a good beating for disobedience." Slowly Tim spread his legs again and as he expected Tina now poured the wax directly on the head of his penis. The pain was simply indescribable. Tim shrieked with pain to the great amusement of the gathering audience. As he doubled up in pain, he felt some vicious strikes of a riding crop as one of the other girls 'punished him for his disobeying Tina'. As the wax cooled Tim spread his legs again.

This time Tina waited for longer, so the pool of molten wax on top of the candle was now even greater than before. She grabbed his penis and poured it all over his head and then on its tender underside. Tim squealed with pain. The heat was terrifying, he again pulled his legs up to protect himself and immediately felt the whip. He did not care, no whipping could ever compare to the pain that Tina was putting him through. Tina laughed as she saw his pain. She now started pouring wax on his balls, more pain. Tim was now sweating profusely, much as he tried he couldn't keep his legs spread eagled and was being whipped as a result.

The torture seemed to go on for ever. Eventually Tina got off him. Tim was so exhausted that he didn't move, he just lay in the middle of the floor naked as the diners looked on.

"Tim, don't lie around. Show some respect for your Mistress. Kiss my shoes." Tim got to his knees and gingery bent forward, trying to put as little pressure as he could on his balls. He then kissed Tina's shoes.

Florentina, one of Mistress Xaviera's assistants led Tim away to a shower. She then gave him an ice pack for his burning penis and nipples. When he had recovered and returned to the dining room the party was beginning to break up. Mistress Xaviera had the slaves line up by the door and thank the members of the Society for their company. Some of them reciprocated by slipping banknotes into Tim's garter.

The place looked like a battleground, with discarded underwear and bottles instead of guns and tanks. Tim looked for Natalya, eventually he found her bound to a whipping horse, as her arse was as silky smooth as before he guessed this was to allow the guests to fuck rather than to punish her. His efforts to release her were rewarded with a grateful hug.

As Tim approached Mistress Xaviera, he saw a gagged boy suspended from the ceiling, his toes just touching the ground. His legs held by a spreader bar and huge weights were suspended from his cock and nipples. He had clearly been beaten without mercy. Dark red stripes covered his whole body, his buttocks had received particular attention. Tim wondered what he had done to offend Mistress Xaviera.

Mistress Xaviera noticed Tim's gaze, "Don't worry about the slut. We will release him in the morning." Tim knew the poor guy would be in quite unendurable pain by then. As she handed over a thick envelope, she said "Tim, you did well. I would like you to come to the next dinner if you are in Palermo in November."

Now Tim started looking for his clothes, he couldn't find anything until he remembered the guy still chained to the ceiling. He realised he wouldn't need any clothing for hours and was not really in a position to stop Tim borrowing whatever he needed. Eventually he found a pile of clothes and dressed in the guy's yellow PVC shorts and blue 'off the shoulder' polyester T shirt. He didn't feel great but it was this or walk naked through one of the roughest areas of Palermo. Natalya found a discarded bra and a pair of panties.

Next time he passed, the guy was looking very distressed. Tim was unsure if this was because he saw his clothes had been stolen or if it was due to the pain of being fucked by one of the waiters who could clearly not resist his unprotected bottom. Tim saw a group of men milling around evidently in some sort of queue waiting to sample the same favours.

When Natalya got back to Bar Bardia she found her clothes and dressed in the bar without embarrassment. As she stuffed her own underwear into her handbag she wondered whose panties she was wearing. They were wonderfully silky, fitted well and were rather above her price band. She assumed they belonged to one of the other whores. The underwear had to be squeezed into the bag due to the size of the 'brick' of cash that Mistress Xaviera had given her. Over four grand for one night's work. She was sore from a lot of sex but for that money she did not care. She could almost live off that for the rest of the month. She jumped at the chance when Mistress Xaviera offered her a place at the next dinner. No more cheap dates with cheap punters, no more fifty Euro hand jobs, no more selling herself on the street when the rent was due. As she chatted to Tim on the way back he mentioned he worked for an agency where she could make that kind of money and more, perhaps she would give Cartwright & Palmer a call.

When Tim arrived back in the bar he went to Pippa's table and quietly knelt at her feet. Pippa was furious at how long he had been away and as she pulled Tim to the door by his collar she swore he was going to pay. When she got home she ordered him to strip and was visibly shaken by the evidence of the punishment that Tim had endured. As a result she refrained from giving him the whipping she had been dreaming about. Pain or no pain she could not resist raping him. Pippa tied Tim spread eagled on her bed and after gagging him proceeded to ride him for all she was worth.

Eventually she dismissed him. Tim was relieved that the evening had finally come to an end. But even after he had rubbed pain-relief cream into his buttocks, thighs, nipples and penis he still found it very hard to get to sleep.

The next day Mrs Bergonzoli quickly spotted that Tim's scars were very recent, this resulted in a furious row between mother and daughter. Tim wished he could have understood it, somehow he could not imagine his mother shouting, "You are too young to use my prostitute!" Eventually Tim heard the front door slam as Pippa stormed out of the house.

Tim knew it was time to face the music and knocked on Mrs Bergonzoli's bedroom door and waited. He was frightened for the first time in ages, he was truly worried about his impending punishment, as he was sure that Mrs Bergonzoli would accuse him of corrupting her daughter. Tim knew there was a great difference between an 'erotic' punishment and when a client truly wanted to hurt you. The latter could be terrible. Tim took a deep breath, dropped his knickers and entered. He knelt in the centre of the room, eyes lowered and waited for the abuse to start, expecting the mother of all whippings that he knew in his heart he deserved.

Tim heard Mrs Bergonzoli approach and tried to look remorseful as she raised his chin to look at him. To Tim's surprise her face was not contorted with rage but had a gentle smile, "Tim you look in a bad way. You had better put on one of my silk night shirts and lie on the bed whilst I try to repair the damage you took last night." Tim was amazed. In the end Mrs Bergonzoli treated him like a sick schoolboy, mothering him for the entire day. They laughed and giggled their way through a couple of romantic DVDs and a good amount of foie gras and champagne. These being Tim's favourite cures for a badly beaten bottom. When it came time to leave Mrs Bergonzoli looked as happy as he had seen her in ages. Tim marvelled at the ever surprising life of an escort.

~

Tim pulled up his knickers as he looked in the mirror. He knew he was now a 'career prostitute' and to his surprise he was happy about this. He couldn't really understand the prejudice he had had against those 'on the game' before he found out what was really involved and the skills required.

He was feeling confident; he had recently been promoted to a 'grade one', making him one of the most expensive boys on the island. He knew Astrid thought highly of him, both for his physical beauty and his versatility. He was equally attractive to men and women and could play the alpha male, the submissive and even a TV with equal skill, and more importantly his feedback was uniformly excellent. Two clients had even tried to 'buy' him for considerable sums.

Eventually he would retire but there was no rush, he enjoyed his job and was very well paid, a pretty good combination. He knew his body would not stand up indefinitely, and some of beatings were very painful, so he had provisionally agreed a deal with Astrid whereby Jessica and he would work nine months on, three months off. He felt this would extend his career and hoped to work for another couple of years, eighteen months at the least. Then he was set up for life.

Tim looked at his watch, he had about twenty minutes before he had to get ready for Karen. She was becoming one of his 'regulars'. She always came for the weekend and booked Tim from lunch time Saturday to lunch on Sunday. She was one of the few clients who really treated Tim as an 'escort' rather than a prostitute. She seemed to want to relax; she had Tim accompany her to lunch, then they lounged by the pool together, after dinner she often only wanted a massage or a little oral attention to her pussy and tits. Tim knew she was no shrinking violet, as when they did have sex Karen showed she had an inventive mind to go with her beautiful body. She talked about a high pressure job and said how Tim was her 'haven of tranquillity'.

After three dates Karen asked Tim to join her on her yacht. Tim was looking forward to the weekend, he enjoyed Karen's company and a relaxing weekend on a boat a perfect antidote to a hectic week. He passed through Security at the marina and wandered along a line of palatial yachts. Karen said her boat was a thirty footer called the 'Lady Isabel', he had no real idea what a thirty foot boat looked like, but it sounded large. It was, not quite 'Russian oligarch' size but certainly at the multi-millionaire level. In the end he was not embarrassed by having to try to make out the names as Karen shouted a greeting.

Karen, dressed in a brief red bikini, welcomed him aboard. She introduced him to the Captain, Sam Budyonny, and more to the point to her friend Caroline, a very shapely lady. Tim thought she was sexy rather than beautiful, in fact she exuded sex appeal from ever pore of her body; most of this was on show as her bikini was tiny. Caroline seemed very pleased to meet him.

Karen asked her Captain to take them out into the Mediterranean, she thought they would have a light lunch at one, then perhaps do a little fishing. Karen and Caroline returned to their sun loungers and invited Tim to join them. They all lay down and relaxed, the conversation was sporadic and light. He began to like Caroline, she had a wicked sense of humour, very dry and unexpectedly sophisticated. Tim was feeling horny, he wondered if he should ask Karen's permission before doing anything for her friend. Tim decided that he would if there was an appropriate moment, but felt that Karen would not have brought Caroline along unless she knew his profession and wanted to share his favours.

After an hour Karen asked Tim to get a cold bottle of Chardonnay. She explained that the cellar was the second door on the left as one entered the boat. Tim heaved himself up. He had an urge to explore the yacht but thought that there was be ample time for this over the next two days.

Tim entered the room and fumbled for the light switch, as he did a black bag was thrust over his head and his arms were grabbed and handcuffed behind his back. Instinctively he fought but his assailants were well prepared and he was quickly overpowered. Seconds after being subdued he realised he was probably lucky that none of his wild punches had made contact. His assailants were probably the Captain and one of the crew members. Tim didn't like the idea of sitting down to dinner with the Captain sporting a huge black eye. Karen or Carline clearly wanted to have a 'kidnap' scene.

One of Tim's assailants then untied his bikini leaving him naked. Tim never liked menials seeing him naked, he felt that being a whore, especially at Cartwright & Palmer, was hugely more demanding than serving drinks on some boat. He should be shown the proper respect. This said, if this was what Karen wanted he couldn't complain. He put up a few more token struggles as he was led down the corridor, in case Karen or Caroline were watching. Tim got to what he took to be the state room and was told to kneel, this he did. He was now rather looking forward to having Karen and Caroline, this was going to be a kinky weekend. Tim felt himself gradually getting erect in anticipation.

Tim heard someone enter the room, it sounded as if it was more than one person, but he could not be sure. Tim's hood was suddenly removed, initially he was blinded by the bright light. As soon as he eyes focused, he saw it was not Karen and Caroline in front of him, it was Mr Tolbukhin, his old boss from the Commercial Bank of Chelyabinsk from who he had defrauded of some $20 million, flanked by two shaven headed gentlemen toying with conspicuously large rubber truncheons.

Tim was now coward but now he was truly scared. He was literally petrified, he felt as if his insides were turning to liquid as if he had been instantaneously struck down with Ebola. He couldn't believe that they had tracked him down. He felt the intense fear of the impending physical pain, along with the acute disappointment that his life had come to this...

~

Cartwright & Palmer started an investigation when Tim did not return, but it made little progress. They found that there was no record of a thirty foot yacht called 'Lady Isabel' and that Karen Maxwell was really a 55 year old secretary from Galashiels who was a little surprised to find thousands of pounds charged to her credit card for 'intimate services'. Their investigators confirmed the real Karen Maxwell had spent the previous week tending to her sick maiden aunt in Morpeth.

Jessica waited in vain for news of Tim, only hearing the distressing gossip that went around the sex industry. Rumours abounded about his fate. The most persistent story was that he was taken to one of CBC's large factory complexes outside Ryazan, where he became a 'barrack room whore'. People came back from Ryazan saying they had met someone who knew of Tim or an 'English whore' who seemed to bare an unusual physical resemblance to him. None of the British CBC staff could ever verify these stories first hand.

The regime was said to be extremely harsh with lots of stick and no carrot. Tim was confined to the factory brothel, and wore a skimpy uniform with a thick, heavy steel collar that had been securely welded around his neck. It had his name in Cyrillic engraved on it, along with the word prostitute. He slept, washed and worked in his collar, it was part of his life. He was frequently told he would wear it until he died, by inference remaining a prostitute until then.

There was no pretence that he was an 'escort' providing 'companionship', he was now simply providing sexual services like the cheapest of tarts. He was given a quota of sex acts to perform each week. In addition, he always had to be ready to satisfy the workers' personal fetishes however extreme. If he failed to meet his quota he was thrashed. To ensure Tim was well used, no charge was made for his services unlike the female prostitutes at the factory. Tim was no longer a highly paid whore fairly willingly providing submissive services, now his whole life revolved around the most basic of sex and more importantly avoiding pain.

On the yacht Tim was beaten up, humiliated, whipped and sexually abused continually for nearly two weeks. The punishment was a thousand times worse than at Cartwright & Palmer and it seemed never ending. His tormentors did not ask for his submission they merely started out each day with the aim of causing Tim as much pain as they could without doing him permanent damage. He was a wreck by the time he reached Ryazan, all he could think about was how to avoid the next beating, he couldn't even think of resisting CBC's demands.