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Standing in front of the hotel bathroom mirror I looked at what my face had become. My lips were bathed in my own saliva, as sweat beaded on my eyebrow and the cheap mascara Myron had told me to wear smudged from my left eye to my cheek. I wasn’t sure I was even doing a good job as his whore because I had already been in the hotel suite for more than an hour when the phone rang and he hadn’t even cum once. Being a new escort wasn’t easy and the only thing worse than being a new escort was being an incompetent one. I felt tears well up in my eyes but I dare not start to cry. What would Myron think if his new whore was crying in the bathroom instead of getting ready for whoever had called to say they were on their way over to the hotel…

“Use whatever you find in the bathroom to make yourself your most beautiful” Myron said loudly from the other room. “They usually have high end stuff in there for guests and they’ll add it to my bill when I checkout. Be sitting on the bed in five minutes.”

The lotions and perfumes, cosmetics and candies – brands I had never even heard of with French names in tiny crystal bottles. I washed my face in the sink, fixed my hair and put on the most delicate perfume gliding the little crystal stopper behind my ears, between my breasts, along each wrist and up across the back of my neck. Then I plucked a pretty orchid from the flower vase and slipped it into my hair above my right ear.

A moment later Myron came back to the bed from the other bathroom at the far end of the suite. He was dressed in a black suit with thin charcoal gray pinstripes and a silver necktie. I was sitting on the edge of the bed with my feet on the floor. “You look splendid, like an elegant lady. Take out your tits. I said you should look you best, but that doesn’t make you any less my whore.” His tone was indifferent, like he was ordering a meal off a menu.

Unfastening the buttons of my white blouse, the fabric parted and my breasts bulged out from beneath it. I had not put my bra back on when I got dressed so there I was, mostly clothed and made up with a flower in my hair as my nipples stood at attention for all the world to see.

The sound of the knock at the door carried across the room loudly, like it was much closer than the other end of the entry hall. I gently bit down on my lower lip nervously and silently. Myron walked to open the door and I could hear him speaking with someone but the sound was too faint for me to make out what was being said. I was sure I heard a female voice, maybe it was more than one voice and was that Myron or another man speaking as well? My mind raced as the voices hushed and the door to the suite quietly closed with a creak. I wasn’t sure what to do so I remembered Myron’s words from earlier and closed my eyes. Somehow it made me less nervous. “You’ll remember my wife, won’t you whore?”

Wife?! My eyelids snapped open and there she was with a big grin across her face. It can’t be the same Karen I told myself. Karen the other receptionist from my office, the one who had told me about the dating site to begin with… something very strange was going on. A rush of shame filled me, my coworker was standing eight feet away from me admiring my tits through my open blouse and the bed sheets were already rumpled. The room still held the scent of sex, even as a new layer from my perfume glossed over it. “My real name is Melisia, not Karen” she said with a wry smile.

“I, I don’t understand…” she watched as my hand began to button my blouse out of instinct. “I wouldn’t do that she said as she approached the bed. The game is not over and if you play it well enough the rewards can be quite wondrous.” My hand stopped and I tilted my head up to look at her. She was a petite woman in her late twenties or early thirties with raven black hair and jade green eyes. “Will you tell me…” I groped with my voice.

“… you have earned that much with your service so far” Myron interrupted. “Marriage is such an archaic thing really. A man and a woman may be in love, but only an idiot like my grandfather believes that requires monogamy. I am an heir of sorts, never worked a single day in my life, nor do I intend to… but that requires certain things. A trust fund is simple enough to obtain but full inheritance comes only with a long list of “shalls” and “shall nots” passed down from one generation to the next. My wife Melisia is also of noble birth and we have been betrothed for as long as we can remember, which in truth has worked out nicely. Our bonds of love are as strong as our bonds of obligation. However, I’m humble enough to know that her desires can not be satisfied by my cock alone, and she fancies the notion of finding a pretty plaything for us as much as I do.”

“Finding someone appropriate is no easy task and if word of our transgressions found it’s way into the wrong ears we would be cast down more quickly than rainwater” said Melisia. “Two weeks at a temp agency getting moved from one office to another in this city was a small price to pay for a chance to go whore-shopping with complete anonymity. When I found you and asked around the office about you I knew you were what I was looking for… sweet, honest, pretty and without any attachments to family or friends of note. Of course, that didn’t mean you necessarily knew how to be fucked, and a whore has little value if she can not accept her role, wouldn’t you agree?” Her long eyelashes blinked at me as she spoke.

So the dating site, escorting, her receptionist job… it was all lies, layered one on top of the other in a twisted attempt to bring me back to their hotel room? I felt cheated and flattered, nervous and favored. What they did was far from honest, but it seems they did it for me and had chosen me from any number of potential playmates. They couldn’t have gone through all this trouble just for a few hours of fun. “So, what happens next?” I asked in a playful voice. “This whore needs to know what you expect from her.”

Myron lifted a large pad sheathed in a black leather jacket from the desk near the window and walked toward the bed. Melisia sat down beside me and cupped my right breast in her hand gently rolling my nipple between her finger and thumb. “Relax” she whispered in my ear “You will never have to work again, never fret over a single bill or need for anything in this world. Three signatures is all it takes.”

I looked over toward Myron as I felt the edge of her slither down to spread my knees. Her palm was warm as it caressed my thigh and pressed forward toward my crotch. The tips of her fingers shivered dangerously at the outer walls of my womanhood. Moist, warm, begging to be entered, I wanted nothing more in that moment than to lay back on the bed so she could take me in her hand.

“Not yet my sweet” Myron said sternly to his wife. “She is just a whore until these papers are complete… not yet our whore, not truly and forever.” He sat down at my other side and placed the bound pad on my lap where Melissia’s hand reached up from beneath the fabric of my dress to hold its weight.

“This is a contract like none you have ever seen, I assure you” said Myron. “An ancient writ that carries with it many great benefits and time honored duties. I shall explain it to you line by line, you may ask as many questions as you wish before you sign it. If you refuse, no harm will come to you and by morning you will be back at your desk answering phones. However, if you do choose to sign it your life shall be changed forever and there are no second chances.”

He was breathing heavier and his voice trembled the same way that it did earlier when he was fucking my mouth. I glanced down at the papers but they were written in fancy calligraphy, not English or any other language I had ever seen. The pad was some kind of parchment, not paper, maybe lambskin… My heart fluttered as he started to read and the thumb of his wife found the sweet-spot between my thighs, slowly diddling my clit to help focus my attention.