Mastering the Virgin Box Set Five: A BDSM Ménage Erotic Romance novel Chapter 62

In their tiny shared apartment, Jenny gets to know her new roomie. She is finding it an education.

Natalie picks at her knee. “Damn, these were new this morning.”

“You've ripped them?”

“Yeah, he wanted a BJ. Ripped ‘em while I was kneeling.”

Jenny thinks about this then, “What's a Bee Jay?”

Natalie rolls her eyes. “Where've you come from? You know… BJ. Blow job. Very popular. Good money for not a lot of work. You want to try it. With looks like yours, you'd make a packet.”

“Oh, I don’t think so….”

“You kidding me? Take a look at yourself.” Natalie abandons her ripped stockings, stands and takes Jenny by the shoulders, steering her to face the cracked and stained mirror. From behind, she looks over Jenny’s shoulder at their reflections. “You’d make a fortune. I’ve got the experience and the contacts. We could work it as a pair, like you and me. Threesomes. You get paid extra for that. It's a bit kinky but there's lots of them into it.”

Jenny screws up her face, then remembering her manners, tries to look polite. “I don't think I fancy it.”

“It’s better money than wiping tables or washing dishes in that dump of a cafe for a living. It'd help you with that college fund of yours.”

“But I’d have to….” Jenny baulk and runs out of words.

“Not all the time. Like this morning for me. Sometimes all they want is a BJ. Do it right, it only takes ten minutes. They’ll pay twenty for it, but with the two of us together, we’d make more ‘cos we could advertise the novelty thing….” She taps a tooth with a long painted fingernail, chipped at the tip. “Hey! I could wear a red wig. Make out like we’re sisters.”

Jenny screws up her face. “I really don’t think I want to.”

Natalie squares to her, planting a hand on one hip. “How much they paying you in that cafe? Five? Less? And I bet you don’t get a lot in tips there either.”

Jenny mumbles something, looking away.

“So, what do you come out with at the end of a shift? Fifty? Sixty?”

“Not that much.”

“See. And you’re working ten hours at a time. More sometimes. You could make that much in an hour with a couple of decent johns. And you do a lot of it lying down. You don’t spend all day on your feet. How long do you think it’s going to take you to save up enough money to university doing what you’re doing? How much have you managed to save?”

Jenny doesn’t reply.

Natalie peers in at her roommate's face. “How much? Anything?”

Jenny swallows and shakes her head.

“You see. You’re working every hour there is and barely making ends meet, even by sharing this shit-hole with me.”

Natalie’s voice softens. “You don’t have to worry about getting hurt you know. Paul sits in the back there….” She tosses her head back to the kitchen. “He keeps an ear open to make sure they don't get stupid. ‘Course, he takes a cut but everyone has to earn a living, eh? You're your own boss and nobody tells you what to do.”

Jenny hovers. “I don’t think….”

“Got a better plan?”

Jenny’s voice is miserable. “No, not yet.”

*****

Richard

When Elizabeth and I arrive at the hospital, James is still in surgery. Charlotte and Michael, silent and strained, sit out in a waiting area. A couple of dozen seats accommodate a sketch of humanity: a small crying child, perhaps a girl, although it’s hard to tell through the snot and tears, with her mother trying to comfort her. A couple of old ladies sit talking and laughing raucously, sharing tea from a flask. Two young men try to control a comrade who yells and struggles, clearly much the worse for drink and with a head wound bleeding down his face and clothes.

Michael looks rough, sitting with one arm around her shoulders, his other hand holding hers.

Charlotte looks appalling. Her eyes, dark-rimmed, are bloodshot hollows. Her hair and clothes, while she’s obviously made some attempt at cleaning up, still carry traces of James’ blood. As we arrive, she looks up and then away again, lost in tears and misery.

They don’t belong here….

I catch Michael’s eye, but he simply shakes his head. “He’s in the operating theatre. We’re waiting to hear.”

Elizabeth tugs at my arm, murmuring. “Master, they shouldn’t be out here at a time like this.”

“I’m ahead of you, My Love. Why don’t you call Ross and get him to pick up some of your clothes for Charlotte? Something comfortable and casual. I’ll make the arrangements to get them a private room and whatever else might help.”

I don’t bother going through nurses or receptionists, simply cutting through to the Head Administrator. I dislike him on sight; an obstructive ‘jobsworth’ who makes it his business to be as difficult as possible until I point out that the hospital is already asking my company for contributions towards a new maternity facility. As it dawns on the oik who I am, his manner switches from obstructive to obsequious. I don’t care. He can be as much of a shite as he wants so long as I get what I want.

Within minutes we are being ushered into a private waiting area. I rack my brain for what else I can usefully contribute.

She brought my Elizabeth back to me….

And the price she pays for honouring her perceived debt is to lose James….