The Old Hooker - End

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The Old Hooker - End
by Janet Baker
 
A few days later Angela was in the barn giving Duke a blowjob when Hans
returned to our farm and entertainment center.

The Old Hooker - End
By Janet Baker

I was in the farmhouse anxiously awaiting the love of my life.
“I’m so glad you’re back Hans, I missed you so much. I wanted cock but I waited …. I had to my darling -- I’m wearing your golden collar of ownership and submission. Every time I finger it I recall our solemn vows to each other. That night -- a night of love -- of commitment -- of ecstasy.” It wasn’t quite true, and Hans probably knew that, but it was what he wanted to hear and what I wished were true but it was a very good night.

“Janet, you are enchanting, a surprise every day and especially every night. How has the business been going? Successful? I’ll be back for a week now and I can help.”

“The business has been going quite well and I’ve had offers to sell the entire affair. Frankly, it’s getting somewhat boring. We’re doing about every thing we can think of. Lesbian trysts, homosexual displays, animals and everything in between. The customers seem to like the animal shows and also the two men, one woman fuckings. They get a big kick out of the woman being hung and then ’raped’ fore and aft by the men. The women performers love it too.”

I paused, then said it straight out. “If we were to sell, we could get enough money to buy a place in southern France on the coast. We could keep your Amsterdam apartment and yet enjoy the Mediterranean.”

“Well Janet, I’m a little surprised that after not too many months in business, this business especially, you find it boring. It still excites me though and I’d like to continue for a while. I think Angela will still participate -- when I arrived she was blowing Duke in the barn -- and I’m not sure that she would welcome your disappearance from the scene. She clearly loves you and what she does. She’s a born actress -- a born performer.”

Hans doesn’t know that I retired from my career as a hooker and that I’ve seen and done almost everything conceivable and that yes, I’m getting tired of it all again and would like to retire again -- but…

“You’re right, Hans my darling. Angela is actually a born exhibitionist. She loves to strip and fuck in public. You’re right in that she would miss me -- her old friend -- and her public. But even if we do sell, she could still visit occasionally and do her thing. Not only that, I -- we -- could come north whenever she wants to appear.”

His face fell. I decided to let it go for now. “But if you wish, we’ll continue. Come to the show tonight. I’ve rearranged the skits a little so that we have performers working simultaneously in different areas of the stage. The result is that we can do more shows per night and still offer the same number of skits.”

“OK Jan, when’s the first show tomorrow? Tonight it’s just you and me. Let’s have glass of wine and cuddle a while before bed.”

“I thought you’d never ask! Red or white? Or how about a brandy? We still have a little Napoleon left over from the last party. Remember that party? Where Angela sat in the salon riding the mechanical pony? That was before she screwed Juno. She was soused that night.”

“Yeh, she had a hell of a time getting herself up to his cock. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled herself up and wriggled onto it and then couldn’t stop screaming. What a sight!”

“Hans, I think that alone would make a good performance. Maybe Ilsa would like a break and it would really please Angela to replace her. Yeah Hans, the more I think about it, the more I like it. The sight of Angela wrapping her legs around the pony and pulling herself up was priceless -- and then her scream as she forced herself onto his cock! What a show!”

Hans was now listening attentively. Getting back into the groove. “Hans, we need to try a submissive man and his dominant companion. It would be fun for the audience to watch as she put him over her knee and spanked him or… she could have us strap him to the cross for her to flog him. H’mmm.”

“Oh God, Janet, you’re making me so hot talking about that. Do you think we could find audience members who would do that or might we have to hire a pair of plants?”

“Either way Hans, either way!”

His imagination began to work. “Oh yes, Jan and suppose when she took his trousers down, we discovered black satin panties. She could make good sport over that revelation. She could make him undress to his panties and there are so many erotic things -- games -- she could play with him. She could make him kneel, call him her bitch -- her sissy -- and make him lick her pussy. She could humiliate him by making him cuff himself to a pole and beg her to flog him. Janet! This is making me so hot!”

“Yes Hans, it is good erotic fantasizing. Would you like me to do that to you my darling Hans? Would you like to be my little submissive sissy, Hans?” I smiled at him seductively. “Would you like me to make you dress as a woman and play erotic games? Perhaps I could dress you and we’d go out on the town as two girlfriends.”

Then I came to my senses. ”No… it wouldn’t work Hans, your face is too masculine, shoulders too broad.. All the reasons I was attracted to you negate any possibility of your passing as a woman. But… you could put on panties and I could spank you.”

“Oh no Janet, I am the man in this relationship. If there is to be any spanking I’ll do it. In fact, come here -- now -- and bend over my knees while I administer some husbandly training to my darling and submissive wife. How many spanks would be sufficient to persuade you that I am your dominant man -- your alpha male, Janet?”

I hadn’t felt like this ever! My mind exploded! My God! What is happening to me?” I was thinking. “This is soooo erotic. Suddenly I want my man to possess me -- to own me -- to spank me hard -- to let me know of his power and his love.”

He sat down -- watching me -- as I fought with myself. I had always been -- was always the domme -- secure in the knowledge of my position. I had always controlled the men in my life and my profession. Even when I was performing fellatio I was still the dominant partner. My shoulders sagged, I walked to him, put my hands on his thighs, lowered myself to my knees and draped myself over his legs.

“Janet”, he commanded, “Pull up your skirt. Pull down your panties. When you can stand it no more, beg me to stop!”

I lost count. I refused to cry. Perversely I wanted more and more. I wanted him to control me, yea, to punish me -- yes -- a catharsis of my past. He continued to spank me. I started to cry. I started to beg -- beg forgiveness -- begged him to stop.

“Hans!” I wept, “please… please stop… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry Hans, will you forgive me?”

I didn’t know what I was saying but I suddenly realized a monumental truth -- I wasn’t a dominant with him any more. I couldn’t ever be with Hans ever again. What I was really doing, from a deep need, was asking forgiveness for having been a hooker. I was ashamed of it. But even more ashamed that he didn’t know, and that I could never tell him. That this had to be my secret from him forever.

That sordid realization shattered my usual equanimity -- destroyed my self confidence. I suddenly realized that I must get as far from my past as I could. And from my present. I must leave this sex business forever and live a decent life.

“Hans, my darling Hans, I have just experienced an epiphany. While I was over your knees. I can’t explain it. But I can’t help it either. I must sell the business and buy a home in the south of France, as I mentioned earlier. It’s no longer an option for me. It must be done! There is no alternative if I am ever going to be a happy normal wife. I hope you will understand and not question me.”

I’d fallen to my own knees now. Praying! Weeping! Looking up at Hans desperately!

“Oh Janet, my dear Janet,” I heard him say through my sobs. “I love you and I want what’s best for you. What you know is best for you. Sell it. Sell the business. I know we’ll have a good life without it.”

And hearing that, I truly wept. Joyfully.

End
 © Janet Baker

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