If you don't buy a ticket III; The Chip Shop Man.

If you don't buy a ticket III; The Chip Shop Man.

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Nyree returns the compliment to The Chip Shop Man.

Summary

Nyree returns the compliment to The Chip Shop Man.

Content

Submitted: April 18, 2016

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: April 18, 2016

A A A

A A A


If you don’t buy a ticket III; The Chip Shop Man.

( Well, there was this woman you see…)

 

It was a long diagonal pot, but if I hit it right the white would come back up the table to end up behind the 8 ball, close to the cushion and Dazzer (Darren to his mum) would be in the shit.

I did the first part – ball in pocket and was bent low over the table watching the white roll slowly back, when I felt and heard, a loud, sharp, stinging slap to my arse and a voice that said.

“We’re even now.” She placed a card on the side of the table next to the somebody’s $2coin and walked off toward the bar, where she started talking to some guy.

Half the bar, or so it seemed, had either seen or heard the incident and were looking in my direction, which I didn’t enjoy.

Dazzer looked her retreating back, then my embarrassed face.

“What…

The…

absolute FUCK!”

“Are you going to talk or get out of that snooker?”

“Fuck the snooker.” He said, putting his cue on the table and picking up his drink.

“This is much more interesting.” and walked off to our small two-person table.

He was right, I couldn’t concentrate on pool now, never mind the distraction of a sore arse. I caught the barmaids eye, which wasn’t hard, as she, like half the bar, still seemed to be looking in my direction, held up a polite 2 fingers and mouthed ‘two more please’, stepped half a pace to followed him, stopped, picked up the card, put it in the top pocket of my shirt.

Our table was one of those small diameter, high-ish type with no seats that pubs use to save on space, but give you somewhere to put your drink, elbows and in the old days, cigarettes. Now that translated as, drinks, elbows, phone and car keys.

He looked at me expectantly…” Well?”

Just then the Barmaid came up with two more beers, she must’ve broke the world record in her nosiness.

“Here you are, two Speights…you must’ve pissed someone off? too sore to sit down are you? want me to rub it better do you?”  Then walked off, laughing to herself and shaking her head, no doubt at the stupidity of men.

“Well?”

“Well, there was this woman, you see…” and told him the tale.

At the end, “So what you gonna do J.T?” Answering his own question, launched into his married man’s fantasy version. The Full Monty of, You’re in there mate, she’s gagging for it, I’d be up there like a rat up a drain pipe, ending in a sexual tour de force of all known sexual positions, some I think, anatomically impossible.

By the time I’d told him the tale and his fantasy wound down, I was 2 drinks over my low-ish, not being the world’s biggest drinker, limit and could feel it. Time for the offski.

“That’s me.” I said, gathering up my keys and phone.”It’s OK for you, you’re not driving, I’m off.”

“It’ll be OK for you too mate if you play your cards right, you’re quids in, you go safe now.” and offered his hand, I shook on that.

 I arrived at the Chip Shop, parked up, went in and ordered, then sat down to wait. Returning to the scene of the crime popped in my head. I reached in my pocket for the card. It was a generic business card

With Compliment, I read, F.&P.I.  Financial & Private Investigations, phone number, website, blah, blah. With a mobile number on the back in biro. I’d heard of them. We were sort of in the same line. I do the technical, electrical, installation side of that. CCTV, mainly those little black domes in the ceiling of shops…plus other shall we say – esoteric applications. Like little mini camera’s in bedrooms, you’d be surprised. But mostly business and household security. When times are hard I’ve even been known to go back to wiring houses for builders, but only if I have too – hard yakka that - a house a day they want, then you wait for 6months to get paid…and sometimes you don’t, but that’s another story.

Anyway, Tony called my order and I decided. ‘Little miss slap arse’ will be getting a phone call come Monday. This is one raffle I will be in. One I aim to win.

 

Chip Shop Man was bent over the table stick in hand, watching as his ball slowly trundled back up the table. I walked over, slapped his arse as hard as I dare, saying. “We’re even now.” Put my card on the side of the table next to the coin and went over to join Kevin at the bar.

“Hi.” I said. “Hi yourself, where did you spring from? I’ll have to add ‘Office Ninja’ to your list of duties. What was all the commotion about, I missed it all.”

“Some guy got his cheek slapped.”

“Well he must’ve done something naughty to get his face slapped.” I didn’t enlighten him about which cheek. I added “yes I think he must, but justice was done I think.”

We got drinks and luckily found a table where neither of us could see the omnipresent TV with sky sports showing.

“How’s your wine?” I took a sip. “I think ordinary covers it and that might be being kind.” He looked at me taken aback by my honesty I think. You’re supposed to say nice-ish things to those sort of questions, especially when the Boss asks them. But part of the ‘new me’ was to try to be honest with myself and others, no more telling people what you think they want to hear.

“I can get you another…”

“No, don’t bother, It’s OK really.”

“If you’re sure? somebody did tell me once that they thought the bottled house wine was actually ‘chateau cardboard’ put into bottles…maybe they were right.”

Shrugging I took a sip, silently agreeing with him, but changed the subject with;

“I’ve thought about what you said this afternoon and I do want more responsibility. I was slightly worried about not being able to do these new things, but that’s just me being nervous of new things. it’s not as if I have to make it up as I go along, you mentioned courses and training and such.” I added with a smirk, “How hard can it be, a mere male like you can do it so I can too.”

He laughed. ” Fair enough, ‘Girl Power’ it is then. What about we drink up and head off the Adele’s, you can get a decent glass of wine and we can thrash out the nuts and bolts after dinner. There’s plenty more I haven’t told you yet…you may still change your mind when you hear the full uncensored version.”

We were seated by a slim Asian girl, who gave us two menu’s then took an order for drinks and starters.

“Where’s the Pommie girl with the nice tits?” I asked, he looked at me. “Remember? the new me? I say what I was thinking, not what people think I should say.”

“If that’s the way you want it, I should maybe make you sign some sort of waiver, so If I say what I think, you won’t decide I’ve gone too far and sue me for workplace harassment. But sometimes in public we can’t always say what we like. For instance, we can’t tell a paying client to fuck off and get over it, if his partner runs off with the milkman and that he’s probably better off without her.”

“OK,” I said, “Time and place, got it.” We tucked into our starters, this time with a better class of wine, talking of this and that and not work. Turns out the Pommie girl only works Thursdays and Sundays now.

“You will be seeing more of her,” he said, “So don’t worry, I’m hoping she will take an offer to be your part time assistant if it all takes off.”

The waitress cleared the table and we declined dessert, settling for coffee, I turned down the liqueur, as it didn’t seem fair on him being the driver. Alex the Chef came out for a brief word but didn’t stay. Kevin launched into his spiel, going over the points he had made in the office.

He mentioned the new pay grade which moved me from an hourly / fortnightly paid employee to a monthly paid staff member. He did remind me that our work was not always 9-5 and with the new, and I have to say impressive rate, there would be no overtime as such. But there would be expenses, mileage allowance, a fuel card and all the phone data I could use, even a new phone, If I wanted to keep home and work separate. I already knew we both used the same National Telco provider and showed him my new phone, (paid for by my ex-husband, did he but know it.) We compared phones like geeks for a minute. Then he got down to details.

“There’s more to my business than enquiries for play away husbands.” He said. “As well as being a chartered accountant, licensed Enquiry agent I am also a registered sex worker. That is a matter of public record and anybody can check it." He pulled a sheet from his inside pocket. "Sign this confidentiality agreement and I will tell you more. If you feel that you don’t want anything to do with it, we will just stick with the Enquiry side.”

"I'll go and have a word with Alex in the back, you take a moment to think what you want to do.” He went first to the toilet then into the kitchen.

“Have you explained her full duties yet?” said Alex.

“I’ve just given her the confidentiality agreement, I think she’ll be OK, she does want to re-invent herself and she doesn’t mind calling a spade a fucking shovel, so I don't see why not?” he shrugged.

To say I was gobsmacked didn’t even get near it…a registered sex worker, what the fuck was he? a male escort for sex starved cougars, a toy boy, he had the looks for it. I never thought he was gay so that’s what it must be. Toy Boy. I would sign the hush paper just to find out more, then see if I needed to look for a new job.

He came back out and sat down. “Well?”

“Where do I sign?” He smiled and gave me the pen and paper. I signed.

He played with his phone and showed me a site for home manicures. “This is just the billing address that shows up on any credit card statements, most pay cash though.” He entered another user name and password which took you to a new site.

safewordspanking.com

“History lesson; Adele is my non identical twin. We Inherited a decent sum of money. Enough to allow us to start up our own businesses, both under a holding company. I also have another company ‘Safe word Spanking’.”

“Via word of mouth and discrete ads in G.L.B.T. publications and sites, clients register on the under website and after exhaustive checks on both sides make an appointment in their own home. All of my clients are over 25, I visually check ID’s I won’t take them any younger, as they may lack the emotional maturity to appreciate the service. PayPal for the credit cards all above board, but most pay cash.”

“What do they get for this cash?”

“Basic O.T.K.” I interrupted. “What’s O.T.K?”

“Over the Knee, by hand, clothes on for 5 mins or until they say their ‘safe word’ $100, then on a sliding scale.” He anticipated my next question.

“The first sliding scale is fully clothed, then skirt up or trousers down, then bare bottom, then totally naked.”

“The second sliding scale is method and position. some prefer O.T.K. but some have to have to bend over like in the old days at school, or over an armchair. By hand or cane, hairbrush and wooden spoon and the old stand by the riding crop are always popular.”

“Then there’s the added extras.”

“added extras? – such as…?”

“Digital enhancement.”

I looked and raised an eyebrow.

“Touching, rubbing, fingering.” He said, “Breast, vaginal or anal, or any permutation thereof.”

I was beginning to get a bit turned on by this, “and that’s it?”

“No he said the final added extra is humiliation. Some like to be told how bad they are beforehand to justify the punishment. Some like to be made to stand in a corner after and think about what they did to be punished, a cross between saying a hail Mary and the naughty step. There must’ve been some weird childhoods. Mainly they just like the orgasms from spanking, which warms them up, then a good fingering and tit rub. Happy endings as they say.”

We hadn’t rushed our meal and the time passed quickly while we were talking, I glanced at my phone 9.40. looking around I could see the place was nearly empty.

“So what about you, don’t you get turned on by having naked women over your knee or is it a just a job to you

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t, mostly the naked OTK finger jobs, they can feel it as well, I think it acts as a feedback process and it turns them on more, some have guilt issues hence the spanking, but they like the fact that they’re turning ‘daddy’ on as well, then feel guilty about it. I told you, some weird childhoods,” he paused, grinning. “Some will remark on it, with them and others I use it as part of their humiliation and punishment ‘can you feel what you’ve done to me?’ you must be punished and they lap it up, in more ways than one. You seem to be taking this remarkably well.”

“And you seem to have no shame in telling me, you don’t think it’s wrong, your ladies don’t, in fact it seems like they pay extra for the privilege of giving you a blow job.”

“Pretty much; and then some, it is what it is. I operate in a small niche market to a small number of women who pay well.” He said, “So are you in or are you out, can you live with it?”

“I don’t see why not, I do office, go on a course, take snaps of dole bludgers and play away husbands, run your spankers website and you do what you do. I get a big pay rise for some new skills. So yes, I’m in.”

 Thinking, when I get home I have to look into this, remembering the sliding down the mirror monster orgasm that followed from Chip Shop Man’s slap…maybe I should ask for some hands on training as it were. that thought made me smile.

He offered his hand,” Deal?”

“Do I have to spank anybody?” I half joked.

“Not if you don’t want to.” He half joked back.

“Deal.” I said, we shook and my smile grew broader. I poured the last of the wine into each glass and raised it in toast.

“Here’s to new and interesting times ahead.” I offered. We touched glasses and sipped.

He got the bill, declining Alex’s offer of mates rates discount even added 10% to the electronic total as a tip.

“Our own bank balance gets topped up and the taxman will, in effect, double it - free money, everyone's a winner, so why skimp?”

Pulling up to my building he said "Goodnight." I leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek.” Thanks for a very illuminating evening.” And went up to my floor.

Pouring myself the liqueur that I had declined, I googled ‘OTK spank’ and to my surprise got over half a million hits. I hit sites randomly. There was everything he mentioned and more, much more. Shit, I thought, there’s a whole different world out there…and I get turned on by one slap on the arse in a chip shop. That reminded me of the card I had given to Chip Shop Man.

What if he doesn’t call?...More to the point, what will I do if he does?

 

 


© Copyright 2017 E.M. Ockleshaw. All rights reserved.

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