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It was horrible. Janice closed her eyes tightly and swallowed hard. Then even as she tried to put it out of her mind, she extended her tongue and lowered her beautifully distressed face.

Renee felt the delicate damp pressure on the top of her toe. A thrill of complete triumph and anticipation of continual revenge passed through her as she looked down at her subjugated neighbor. Janice was stark naked and licking her feet. It was utter surrender. Renee noticed as the blonde leaned down even more, the apparently hairless nature of her very intimate region. Janice's buttocks were flared in that position. The rounded cures coming together just at the slightly darker bud of her anus and the gentle narrowing of her waist gave the impression of a fleshy toned valentine.

Janice despised what she was doing, but she was well beyond refusing or even having any kind of say in the matter. Renee "had" her in more ways than one. Between the wreck and the information she had could jail her, she thought, and now the sadistic bitch had near-porno photos of her. If she decided to suggest nearly anything, Janice ultimately had no power to refuse. So she continued licking her neighbor's toe. Then she felt the velvety soft pressure against her neck and she knew.... Renee was fastening on the burgundy dog collar.

It was a symbolic and irreversible act. Despite the fact that she wanted to jump to her feet, and slap the gaudy, cruel woman across the face, Janice did not resist. Once fastened, a short interval passed until she could detect some sort of activity involving the collar at the back of her neck, and then she heard the muted click that indicated the attachment of the leash. In an instant a small icy spot started in the pit of her stomach.

A sudden tug lifted her head and she found herself looking up at Renee. It was awful. Renee tapped her thigh and proceeded to "walk" her across the carpet. Janice was forced to crawl, naked- jiggling and swaying- so aware of the motion of her own body as her head was held unnaturally up.

"Oh, that's a goooood girl," laughed Renee.

She led Janice toward the front windows that faced the street. Janice could suddenly see where they were headed. Reflexively, she balked and her crawling slowed. It was just what Renee had hoped for. Instantly she jerked the leash pulling Janice forward. It made her huge breasts bounce and bobble against each other. Before her pet could fully react, Renee took the opportunity to lean backward and administer an admonitory spank to her bare bottom. Janice gave a little squeak and immediately regretted it. "How adorable!" giggled Renee. "This is just too precious not to be shared." She dragged Janice forward and to her great distress, Renee grasped the cord of the window blinds and looked back at her. She smiled hatefully. "Remember now, big smile."

She stared at Janice for a second and then pulled up the blinds. The sudden light caused the blonde to squint. She almost dreaded opening them again, but to her surprise when she did, there was no one there. She almost heaved a sigh of relief except that Renee was glowering at her indicating her displeasure.

She yanked the leash pulling Janice along with her back into the high-ceilinged foyer of the house. Janice could not help, but remember that not 24 hours prior she had been a modest and decent, wife and mother. Now in a cruel interval fate had put her in the service of a monster. Renee crossed to the front door and unfastened the leash. She reached down and firmly grasped a thick pink nipple and lifted, nonverbally indicating that Janice should stand. She complied and as she did caught a slight reflection of herself in the glass of one of the narrow windows that framed the front door. Her naked body seemed all the more so, with only the collar on. Her thick blonde hair was tousled and she looked like some someone had given her a rough going over. Below the trimmed black wedge her vaginal lips were still flared from the mighty stretching of the huge phallic instruments. She looked like the most Americanized image of subjugated fantasy. It made her even more ashamed.

There was little time to think of that. Renee had just removed the leash and released her manicured hold on the nipple when she reached forward and opened the front door. As it swung open, Janice could see her bathrobe still hanging on the mailbox across the street. She instinctively started to take a cautious step forward when Renee brought her up short by a handful of her hair.

"No no, Elsie,"—Janice winced at the words—"You ask permission before you go strolling out. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Janice desperately. "May I go?"

Renee chuckled and released her hair before administering a sharp smack to the softly pliant globes of her neighbor's shapely ass.

"Yes my dear little pet. Run!"

Janice did not have to be told twice. Immediately she took off for her house. She had never been the most graceful runner. She was never really athletic- her style was way too ladylike- and the overly abundant nature of her breasts for her slender frame had been a further discouragement to pursuit in sports. She ran with a kind of girlish motion of her hands at hip level and more inefficient lateral motion. It delighted Renee as she realized that it also caused her backside to bounce more and sent her breasts in an exaggerated swinging from side to side. She was just about to the center of the street when the sound of an automobile engine caught her attention. She looked to her left in time to see the postman's jeep turning the corner onto her street. For a second she froze. To her horror she saw the eyes of her mailman, Mr. Johnson, meet hers. He was always such a nice old man, African-American, in his late fifties, and any other time she was always so happy to greet him with a glass of lemonade or plate of warm cookies, but just then he was one of the last people she would have hoped to run into. His eyes widened and left hers as he took in the length of her bare body. It jarred her into further flight and she took off disregarding her body's obscene display of motion and grabbed her robe as she sprinted to her house. She ran through the door and into her bedroom, before throwing herself into a distressed heap on the down comforter.

God only knew what nice Mr. Johnson would think of her. She had been forced to debase herself at the whim of her most hated acquaintance and had ended up exposing herself in a way that defied explanation to the mailman. What was worse, she saw no end to the embarrassments that were inevitably coming. She buried her face in the soft bedspread and gave a soft sob, oblivious to the fact that she still had on the burgundy collar.

After what seemed like a half hour she began to recover her composure. She got up and closed the robe around her body. All she wanted at that very moment was a warm shower. She walked into the master bathroom that smelled of potpourri and bath salts and turned on the water. A jet of steamy water surged from the shower head and she looked at her face in the mirror. The cursed collar was still around her neck and she furiously reached back to unfasten it and hurled it into the waste basket next to the sink. Her hair still had a wild leonine quality and she ran a hand through it to smooth the tangle

The bathroom was starting to steam up and she slipped the robe off her shoulders and hung draped it on a wicker clothes hamper. The water was restorative and she was just finishing with her shower when the musical tones of her cell phone came from the pocket of the robe. She switched off the water and dripping grabbed it and pressed the talk button. The giggle on the other end told her immediately who it was.

"Well, I guess you won't have to give Mr. Johnson his Christmas tip this year, huh?"

Janice said nothing. No reply was necessary, as Renee went on.

"He nearly drove up on the curb. He was blushing and stammering and you should have seen the tent in his pants."

She laughed again. Having it related like that just deepened Janice's shame.

"It confirmed what I always suspected about blondes, even fake ones like you and the potential effect on men."

Janice almost groaned.

"I think," said Renee with a strange sort of triumph in her voice, "you should take a look at your email."

"My email?" said Janice. "Uh huh. Call me back when you do."

She laughed again and then abruptly hung up.

Janice dried off and then stepped into the bedroom to put on some clothes. She grabbed an underwire bra, a pair of panties, and then slipped on a t shirt and pair of jeans. Having them on was a comforting return to her regular attire. She left the bedroom and walked back to the study where the desk top computer was sitting on the small desk from Ikea. She took a seat and logged on. The screensaver was picture of her daughter and her sitting on a park bench. They looked delighted with each others company. She thought of what she had been forced to endure in order to protect the continuation of her "normal" life.

"For you, dear," she said. "For us."

She went to her email and opened the inbox. There was one new email. She looked at the title of the sender Queenbeesting@r&rtravelagency.com. With a feeling of dread she clicked on "open". It read: "Elsie darling, looking forward to working with you. I think I got your good side by the way." It was signed simply, "the boss".

For a second Janice stared at the included link. It read eros-usa.com/escort/LC. Then taking a final breath, she left-clicked her mouse. A second later the page opened. Had anyone been nearby, they would have startled at the small scream that escaped her. There on the screen in front of her was one of the pictures of her orally luxuriating on the brown silicon penis. She had been there doing it, but somehow seeing the image of her spread-legged with a luminous smile on her face as she licked the shaft, made it seem even more awfully real. Her parted highs revealed the pale pink of the open lips and the black patch above them stood out even more. She read the text. It was an advertisement for "escort" services.

"I'm L.C." it said, "your blonde pet for an evening or an hour. I'm a housewife with a wild side and a taste for the more expensive part of the good life. Be generous and I'll make every fantasy come true. Love costumes and roleplay. I am available for parties, couples and that special one-on-one. I'm open-minded and ready to please."

Janice could not believe it. There were two other photos, one of her with the black phallus in her pussy- a pixilation covering the actual penetration- and the white one in her mouth and another with her on all fours and her breasts hanging. In all three her face and body were unmistakable. She saw the contact numbers listed at the bottom. It was Renee's cell.

She reread the words, "parties", "couples", and "open-minded". The connotations were devastatingly bad. She stared at the screen for almost fifteen shocked minutes before remembering the instructions Renee had given her earlier. With a shaky hand she picked up the telephone.

It rang twice before Renee's voice answered, "Yes?"

There were a hundred things that Janice might have said, but when she heard Renee's voice the awful potential of the ad overwhelmed her.

"Please, Renee, don't make me do this." Her voice had a miserable whine to it. The effect for Renee was right on target.

"Oh Elsie, now what would be the fun in that? This is just the beginning. In fact," she laughed, "I already have some clients lined up for you."

Janice could not reply. She was shocked. Renee was far more evil than she could have ever imagined. She was literally planning to turn her into a call girl. And as the coldly incomprehensible potential of that occurred to her, Janice realized there was nothing she could do to stop her. Renee had realized that too long ago. She went on in a less pleasant tone of voice.

"Here's what is going to happen. We have certain clients that use our travel agency, special clients. They require a certain "catering" to their needs. They often have certain desires and are used to getting what they want. You are just an extension of those services."

She paused before going on. She was loving it. Janice could tell.

"Many of them are demanding. Your job will be to do exactly as you are told and make sure they are happy. Sometimes you will be given very important instructions on what to wear or how you will behave....I had better never hear that you have not fulfilled a client's desires to the fullest...or you can say good-bye to your little life, your pasty husband, and that sweet little daughter of yours who will be stigmatized for life by a mommy who was a prostitute and a murderer....am I understood?"

The silence on the line hung for a second. Janice had blushed a deep shade of scarlet from anger, frustration, and humiliation.

"Yes, ma'am," she said.

The "ma'am" was not lost on Renee. She chuckled softly. "You might just get to keep this double life after all. Now, I have a few little tasks for you today...because your first appointment is at one."

...................................

Janice pulled the SUV into the small section of the little shopping center. She parked at the far end of the lot from the store that was her destination and contemplated the horror that involved her and that she was powerless to escape. She was going to have to sell her body to any person that Renee approved. In actuality it was Renee that was doing the brokering. Janice was even less in the process. She was the commodity, or rather her beauty and dignity was. She looked out through the windshield at the sign. The name of the store was French Kiss. It was obviously a clothing shop for exotic dancers and supplier to the bachelor and bachelorette party shopper. She climbed out of her car and walked to the front door. Twice, she looked around to make sure no one saw her going in. The store was not busy, and as she stepped through the door she saw a single bored female clerk reading a magazine at the counter. The girl was wearing a goth-style top and had black spiked hair. She was only slightly less busty than Janice and her proprietorship gave the establishment a slightly wilder connotation than was already there. Janice did not know what to do with herself at first. She looked to her right and was confronted by a rack of penis-shaped party favors. Immediately she turned away and found herself face to face with the costume section of the store. Tiny thongs and extremely brief mock military, police, nurse, and other get ups were hanging on clothing trees. She looked back and the clerk was watching her over the magazine.

"Are you looking for something?"

"Uh, I...was supposed to pick up a package."

"Okay," she said, "what was the name."

"Janice."

The girl stepped back and started looking through a box of order slips. After a moment she said, "No, I don't see anything. Could it be another name?" She had apparently been used to dealing with dancers who had to use aliases.

With a great deal of effort Janice asked her to try L.C.

"Oh yea, here it is." Then she added, "Oh and you are supposed to try everything on. Come on back with me."

She went to the front door and turned over a be-back-soon sign, and then led Janice to a partitioned area that fronted a small dressing room. Against one wall was a large box with "Elsie" scrawled on the top. The clerk stood with her hands on her hips and an expectant look on her face. It was suddenly apparent to Janice that she was expected to try on the garments. It was also apparent that the young woman intended to watch as she did it.

"You really don't have to stay here. I can try these on by myself."

"Sorry," said the clerk, "but it's policy. Have to have a clerk here."

Janice turned red and couldn't help but think she saw a glint of prurient interest in the clerk's eye as she started to pull the t shirt over her head. When the jeans slid down her legs she was burning with embarrassment, but there was no going back. She thought about protecting her family from the awful secret of her crime and slipped the bra and panties off. The first items in the box were a pile of the tiniest thongs she had ever seen. Standing there in the buff she noticed the clerk looking her over. A slight smile played across her lips as she stared at the patch of hair on her mons.

"Not exactly a natural are ya, hon?"

Janice ignored the remark and took a pair of v string panties and pulled them on. It barely covered her pubic hair and she could feel the two branches of string come together right against her ass. The thin thread was truly like floss, and by the feel, she knew it was not covering her lips. The clerk grinned and watched as the process was repeated with each item. There were several outfits, and when Janice pulled on the final selection- a navy pinstrip miniskirt, very snug undersized white tuxedo blouse that was just sheer enough to accentuate the shape and color difference of her areola, and the short pinstripe jacket that came just below her waist and did not fasten completely in the front- the cell phone rang. Janice could see herself in the mirror. She looked like a bimbo secretary that was trying to look classy, but just came off ridiculously slutty. She clicked the cell phone.

"So got your new wardrobe?" asked Renee.

"Yes," said Janice.

"Good," she said. "Your appointment has been moved up. Need you there in an hour."

"An...hour?"

"Uh huh...major client. Very demanding. He has already paid for you. He'll be at the Embassy Arms. Room 436. He wants you to come dressed like a secretary. You'll find that outfit in the package you are picking up."

"I have it on," said Janice. Her voice was muted. The phrase, he has already paid for you, had the finality of her new status in the world.

"Good...is the clerk there? Let me talk to her."

Janice handed the phone to the girl who apparently had enough of a relationship with Renee to be this familiar.

"Uh huh. Yes," she said looking at Janice. "Oh yea. The v string. Yes! Uhm, probably black stiletto heels. Sure." She giggled and handed the phone back to Janice.

Janice gathered her new wardrobe together and put the clothes she had worn in back into the box. The sensation of the thin strip of cloth of the v string insinuated into her pussy as she moved and was distracting. She also had to be careful to pay attention to the skirt as it had a tendency to ride up her thighs a bit. She made her way back to the SUV carefully walking on her new spiked heels. She had no idea how she would drive in them. As she climbed into the front seat, the skirt stretched up and gave a brief flash that had anyone been carefully looking and close enough, would have shown the brief panty front askew and a full lip exposed. She sat in the front seat not daring to think about what she was now driving to do.

It was not a long trip. Janice pulled up in front of the hotel and parked in the lot just beyond the valet area. As she strode across the asphalt toward the entrance, two business men were coming out of the hotel restaurant and gave her a smirking appraisal up and down. Instinctively Janice grasped the hem of her skirt pulling it down. She also clutched the sides of the undersized business jacket and pulled it hard to approximate across her chest. She felt that everyone who saw her must know what she was there to do.

She walked through the large doors, across the marble entryway and over to the elevators. Once inside she pressed the number 4 and waited as it slowly began to rise. Her stomach was in a knot. She wanted more than anything to flee the elevator; to run back to her car, throw these ridiculous clothes away, and never look back, but she knew it would not last. Renee would gladly ruin her and see her imprisoned. That was why, when the bell rang and the doors opened, she did not press the down button, but stepped out of the lift and started along the hallway.
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