Firstly here is.....well I think I will let our friend Amber explain
Here is a picture story of a mission that Andy did for Lady Jane: infiltrate a harem, seduce the Sultana, and escape with her after persuading her to testify against her arms-dealer husband.
There is a second part to follow
The world of the lady travelling alone seems to have spread.
You can imagine what these two have on their minds.
And you already know what she has done, but perhaps her colleague will go and help this dear lady find her way to the correct connection
Now some super sweet images, from the world of Andy and Aunt Jane, created by Sissy Dani
And now here is the next part in the brilliant story started this Monday, by our dear friend Skinnie Stallion
Artistic Studies
By
Skinnie Stallion
6. No Way Out. All the way in.
During the journey, Cassie distracted herself with Flora’s ‘suggestion’ and a little mental arithmetic. If she worked 6pm to 9pm, had one client per hour and charged, say, £50 per client that would be three times £50 making £150. If she could get two each hour that would double it to £300. If she could manage 6pm to midnight, that would be six hours work. With two clients an hour that would double again to £600. If she could get Monica to join her, that would double again to £1,200. Put like that, it seemed a viable option. She could work Brixton Road while Monica handled the tube punters on Victoria Road. If they worked together, she could pay off the debt in…. what was £40,000 divided by £1,200 ?..… .. er…… er… let’s say a bit over 30 days. Surely Bergman and Knightley would agree to that?
Cassie went back to checking her working. Was £50 reasonable for a blowjob? She thought so. It had been ten quid when she was a student but Cassie expected a premium for experience and sophistication. And then there’d been inflation since her student days.
Cassie’s thinking took another line. She wouldn't want to go further but maybe Monica would. Monica would do what she told her to do. Some blokes would like fucking a girl, a girl like Monica. Or being fucked by her. Cassie guessed she could charge £200 for that. Or say an hour or her ‘company’? But if she only manages two clients a night, that’d be just £400. And she’d need to rent a room or hotel. That’d put up the cost. Blowjobs round the back alleys would be far cheaper and less demanding.
Cassie stamped her heel into the carpet of her old Ford. Damn it! If she’d kept Sandy, she could have put both her and Monica to work. She wouldn’t need to consider working herself. She could ‘manage’ them. She baulked at the word ‘pimp’. The girls could have provided her with a nice little regular income. Now she had only Monica. She’d have to make do with what she’d got.
Cassie parked along the street since a white van was annoyingly parked outside her house. Perhaps her neighbours were having some work done. She rang the front doorbell expecting Monica to answer. She rang a second time. Music was blaring inside. Monica had become a Radio 6 fan. At least Cassie had persuaded both her and Sandy to move on from Radio 1 and Capital. She’d have to speak to Monica about not disturbing the neighbours; they weren’t going to want any nosy intrusions if Monica was going to be entertaining visitors. Cassie got out her key, opened the door and stepped inside. She just had time to register a hand grip her wrist but didn’t feel the needle puncture the sleeve of her lovely new coat and enter her upper arm.
Cassie had little recollection of the next few hours. She vaguely remembered undressing but she couldn't remember why. She didn’t know where she was. She did know that she couldn’t move. Her arms were clamped beside her. She felt warm. Nice tingly and warm. She liked that gentle buzz. Had Monica been fucking her again? Fucking her while asleep.
Cassie could hear voices but could only dimly make out what they were saying. “I like how you got her to put on her black shoes before we started taping her. Black goes so much better than red. The poor darling had no idea what she was doing. She positively welcomed the two plugs.”
“It’s starting to wear off. When she wakes we will complete her wrapping.”
“Shame, I though Mrs Wright would be a good Host. Never mind, I have no doubt she will fetch a very high price.”
“I’ll give her water with some ket to stop her getting dehydrated and keep her calm during the wrapping. She’ll be comfortable but semi-conscious for the journey.”
“Good.”
Cassie felt a cup at her lips. She drank. She felt herself herself raised to a standing position. The ladies were still talking. “Is Monica alright?”
“Yes, Geoffrey’s looking after her. She’s still as high spirited as ever but she seems to be happy to be going back to B&K. She’s obviously sad to have lost Sandy. The thought of staying on with Mrs Wright didn’t excite her. With no Sandy, she’d be getting no cock. Mrs Wright was too squeamish and preferred to use the Boys as her playthings. That’s all well and good if they’re being treated right the rest of the time. Turns out you can misjudge people.”
“We should have put Mrs Wright through the formal Host Programme but I guess Ms Richards saw it more as a way of punishing her.”
“Some punishment, to be fucked every day by two gorgeous B&K Boys.”
“We just need to learn from our mistakes. Hopefully Monica will settle down after a little Geoffrey time.”
“Yes, Geoffrey should sort him back into a proper her.”
Cassie had no clue what happened next. She felt she was being lowered by strong arms on to a lumpy bed. Her mouth was severely obstructed and a bandage or something plasticky was pulled over her head and eyes. She tried to speak but only “Mmmph” emerged past her penis gag.
Cassie heard a wooden echo and outside noise cease. She felt isolated. Although she knew she ought to feel terrified, she found instead a wave of relaxed tranquillity come over her as she sucked on her gag. There was a jolt and she had a slight sensation of movement but had no clue about direction or speed. She was lost in her dark limbo, the plugs inside her giving her solace and comfort. Monica must be playing a game with her. She and a friend must be taking her somewhere for their private pleasure. It would be a welcome relief from all her money anxieties.
The B&K Bailiffs were glad when the van pulled away. Loading the packing case had attracted attention. Monica’s smiles and laughter in the front passenger had not helped. The neighbours were used to seeing Cassie dressed in shiny clothes but to have two visitors in couture blazers and skirts out on the street was unusual. Calypso and Circe didn't want anyone asking questions. Calypso got on the phone to B&K HQ: “It’s done. All we need is clean up to this address. Low key. Regular overalls. Keep it discreet. Leave it a week before putting up the ‘TO LET’ board.”
7. No Way Out: Purchase
Clarice Bergman was not happy. As scion of the Bergman dynasty she was used to getting her way. Everything at Bergman and Knightley needed to be done her way, the Bergman way. She was giving Dina Richards a dressing down. “You do not give malefactors a second chance, especially not the privilege of hosting B&K Boys. This cunt hasn’t been Hosting them, she’s been using them, using them for her personal pleasure.”
“But they were unruly,” Dina tried to protest.
“Lots of Bergman Boys start as unruly. It’s why they need to be tamed and trained to follow the true path. They must learn not to get pleasure that way. There’s only one route that’s appropriate for a B&K Boy. It’s why B&K provide the B&K Strapon Harness for Boys. If, for some reason, an owner wants a little light relief, they get their Boy to wear a strapon. It can even be screwed on to a cockcage. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mrs Bergman.”
“It should be an honour for a B&K Boy to wear a strapon, He should feel proud of wearing one like his Mistress or owner. It’ll probably be bigger in any case than his pathetic little thing. How else is he going to truly feel like a girl? Certainly not by using that disgusting thing of his. I do not want standards slipping. We made an exception for Ms Tracey but that was because she agreed to provide a steady revenue stream with our fifty percent royalty on her installation commissions, and twenty percent on all her future works. This cunt has provided nothing and has walked away with £40,000 of our money. Of MY money! Can this cunt hear me?”
“Yes, Mrs Bergman.”
“Is she plugged?”
“Yes, Mrs Bergman. Front, rear and mouth.”
“Well I want them taken out except for the gag. She can be controlled and suspended just by an anal hook.”
“Yes, Mrs Bergman.”
“And those heels need to be higher. The tips of her toes should only just skim the ground if she’s properly suspended. She needs to feel every inch of that hook.”
Clarice turned to face Cassie. She was splenetic. “Listen you fucking cunt!” she raged, “you do not sell B&K Boys. You do not try and sell MY Boys. You do not try and sell the services of B&K Boys.” Cassie’s eyes widened. “Don't try and look innocent. Calypso and Circe heard you rambling while you were under the influence of the Rope. You’ve been a naughty girl. If you want cock, you should have gone out and got it from real men, not try to corrupt our precious B&K Boys. You need to learn to do without. And you need to repay me.”
Tears started to roll down Cassie’s face. The Rohypnol and the ketamine had long since worn off: she was fully aware of her predicament. What had seemed like a game had taken a serious turn. This cow had no intention of letting her off the hook in any sense.
“I will arrange the sale. My friend Ms Abramopov has been looking for a suitable model for her next installation for some time. She wants a change of style for her next series of shows and you’re exactly the kind of bitch she’s been looking for. I think she’ll pay at least a quarter of a million.”
Cassie couldn't believe her ears. A quarter of a million! That would be an unheard of amount for her work.
“Did you hear that, cunt? You’re going to be a work of art. A proper work of art. Not the kind of crappy canvases you used to produce. You’re going to be a work of art for a genuine artist. Mariana will sort you out.”
Cassie’s tears started to flood as Circe took the scissors to her latex wrapping and began to ease out her plugs.
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