One Week for Esme

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One Week with Esme, or

How Two Friends played Slave and Mistress for One Week and Became Better Friends, or

Just When You Think You Know Everything About Someone…


Part One

Esme has done me a great service. She discovered the great regret in my life, for which I’d lose everything were someone important in my life to discover it. She not only did not tell that someone, who she knows well, she destroyed all evidence of my indiscretion and failure. She did this out of friendship and required of me only a single favor.

“Just one thing, dear, and we’re even. This other thing will not be part of our future, afterward.”

“Esme, of course, whatever you say. I’m just so relieved you’ve taken care of … it.”

“First you must consider my request, which is not made lightly or frivolously. Our friendship will be set aside while you meet my demands. You will be doing me as great a favor as I’ve done you, no, actually, much greater, but it will challenge our relationship.”

Now, dear Reader, you must understand that Esme and I are best friends. We share everything and we know each other intimately. Yes, we’ve made love, but she knows I really prefer men, or as she says it, ‘Men, and me.’ She doesn’t make a big deal about it and we’ve gone months without being ‘together’ as we call it. She always lets me introduce the topic and is patient with me and the best friend ever in any case. But our relationship counts physical intimacy as only a small part – we are girlfriends and have no secrets. We’ve felt each others’ tears on our cheeks many, many times and given solace and support in the worst of times.

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. What could she possibly mean?

“I want you to work in my salon for one week. You’ll be the ‘extra’ girl.”

“You mean the one that sweeps and cleans and helps, hoping to learn the business and…”

“Yes. You know they never stay long. We don’t treat them well and it’s so easy to find new ones and, well, it’s just part of learning the salon business. You have to be the bitch, first…”

“Well, that seems a small favor, I mean, of course, I’ll do it, but I”m just curious…”

“Well, I haven’t told you everything, darling, of course,” her beautiful smile became evil.

I just stared at her. She is so imaginative.

Normally that is a good thing. In a hot tub, for instance, with all those cheerleaders…

“Pay attention. You know this is the week of that big golf tournament – all the big shots, celebrities, filthy rich men and women from around the world?”

Oh, dear.

“This started a few years ago. The extra girl was a cute little thing with really lovely curves and a saucy manner…during the tournament week, one of my wealthier clients made a special request. She ‘bought’ the extra girl and had her, exclusively, all week long. Nothing unpleasant, of course, and the sweet little thing found out she enjoyed the company of an attractive older women. She made quite a bit of money and finished college, all on that one week.”

“So, you want to sell me to some rich old woman?”

“No, no, dear, that would be much too easy. The woman’s friends found out and the demand quickly outstripped supply. I had to be creative and the tradition evolved…”

“Oh, dear.” Did I say that out loud?

“It became an … auction.”

“I see.” Unfortunately, I meant.

“You’ll have to work the week at the salon, disrobed.”

“While the ladies come to have their hair done.” Not a question.

“Yes, dear, and you’ll have to do your best to be attractive to the clients.”

“You mean, flirtatious? Sexy? Slutty?”

“Oh, no, darling, nothing so obvious. It’s not been my practice to tell the extra what she was doing until later in the week, so you have to pretend to be … natural, but naturally desirable.”

“I’m really not into the whole lesbian thing, Esme, you know that – what is a ‘lap dance’ for another woman?” That was kind of catty, I know, but … dear me.

“Now, dear, dear, don’t be upset. I’m sure you’ll do just fine. My serving for this year fell through at the last minute and you’ll be doing me the greatest of personal favors…”

This, or course, subtly brought the conversation back to my debt to her. Of course, but she was so sweet about it.

“I agree.” This with a sweet smile. I found myself actually curious about it. I get bored so easily.

Her surprise did not show as she smiled back at me. Normally, we would hug to show our relationship was not affected by something new. I think we both knew this one would be a challenge.

No hug.

Part Two

One Week in Her Service

I showed up at ten on Monday casino siteleri morning. Esme doesn’t take clients until noon and I had two hours to get ready. How long does it take to undress?

“Oh, hello, darling. You can change in the blue room.”

I went in and removed my clothing and hung everything in the closet. Esme’s salon is very upscale and includes a private dressing room and bathroom with shower for the stylists. The shower was big enough for two and frequently served that way since Esme maintained relationships with several of the ladies who worked for her – how they didn’t fight with each other all the time, I’ll never know, but Esme is a special lady. They all seemed to love each other and maintained boundaries that I never tumbled to in all the time I’d known her. All of them had done my hair and seemed not to resent my friendship with their boss, either. I paid the same rate as everyone and tipped well, too.

Esme walked in and appraised me in what seemed to be the manner of a cattleman eying his prize steer.

“Off with everything, dear, let me see what we have to work with.” The bitch, she already knew what I looked like. She’d licked most of it Saturday night two weeks ago. I slipped off my bra and panties and started to put my shoes back on.

“No, no, dear, I bought you some shoes to work in.”

They were six inch heels, of course. Beautiful, very expensive, but six inches tall. I looked at her painfully, anticipating my legs after eight hours in torture.

“Oh, well, I think you’re legs are so lovely that these will do, instead.” She presented me with some shorter heels which were probably what she had in mind from the beginning. We both knew it but we both smiled at each other. I slipped them on and admired my legs in the mirror.

My naked legs, and we both admired them. I turned and watched my girly parts jiggle and bounce.

Esme admired that, too.

Our smiles were icy.

“Hurry, dear, and I’ll show you your duties. Our first appointment will be here soon.”

We walked into the salon. The girls couldn’t suppress a giggle, but otherwise, it was just like they always had a naked ‘extra’ to sweep and pick up and run about, doing their bidding.

It seems the extra has to stop by each station and greet the stylist, giving them a kiss on the cheek at the beginning of the day. Then, she’d show me how she liked things arranged around her chair and give me any specific directions for her clients that day. If I was lucky, she’d let me know which ones might enjoy me staying close by, or to stand _there_, _just so_ and let the client admire my (boobs, butt, legs, feet, pussy, whatever, pick one) while I pretended not to notice. Sometimes, the client would whisper directions to the stylist which they would pass on to me. I could blush and then without seeming to comply, I’d do what they wanted – turn, jiggle, bend over (?), rub their feet, massage their calves, bend over so my breast caressed their arm, and so forth.

It was exhausting. I quickly got over my self consciousness and the stylists seemed to appreciate my helping generate the best tips of the year. I played a part of being in love with one of the shampoo girls, sneaking over for a quick kiss while one special client watched. The shampoo girl played along, slipping in a caress of varying intimacy while we smacked each others’ lips in full view of the client, pretending not to be watched while everyone in the shop pretended not to watch.

After the first two clients of the first day, Esme pulled me aside.

“You’re doing great, honey. The bidding has begun.”

“Is it okay for me to ask ‘how much’?”

“It’s okay to ask, but I won’t tell you. You’ll do better if you don’t know.”

“You mean, you’ve done this before?”

“I confess, you’re not the first person to help me out that knew about the intended arrangement. You are the first friend that’s helped me out.”

“Thanks, but I must ask this – why did you ask me? It’s just not — like you.”

“Thank you for saying that – it is not like me. You are not only my friend but you are my best friend. I think it’s time to fully confess. We have some time before the next client – would you like to put on a robe while we wait?”

It really didn’t matter, but I took the robe since she offered. It was gorgeous – pure silk, Asian, all floral and so forth. It actually looked very, very good on me. I also smiled at her – a friendly, loving smile.

She invited me into her office and had me sit down at her personal table where she did nails and had hers done. She looked deep into my eyes and i saw that she was actually frightened.

“I pay to have my shop here, you know.” canlı casino This was a fact, not asking me.


“No, you don’t understand. I own the land and the building, but business here is controlled by very powerful organizations. For me to do business, I pay a portion to … certain interests.”

“You mean, like the mafia?”

“Well, it’s not exactly like that, but let’s say, yes. The problem is they want to move something else here. I can stay, but I have to make a one time payment to show my loyalty.”

“Well, what’s the matter? I know you must have the money, don’t you?”

“Of course, the money would be no problem, it’s just that if I paid, I’d have to keep paying. I need a special favor from a special client.”

“Do I want to know what that is?”

“You deserve to know. The special client has a very influential husband. He can have things done that aren’t available at any price.”

“Things like what?”

“Things like the destruction of an office building in a foreign country. On a given day, when no one but the targeted group will be present. In a way that only the single building will be utterly destroyed. All so that my ‘landlord’s’ competition will be set back in a way he finds very useful.”

“So how do I fit in?”

“The special client noticed you one day. You came by to bring me a package while she was in the chair. I don’t’ remember what you wore, but she described it to me exactly. She is an impetuous woman, who thinks she knows what she wants the moment she sees it. You, my dear, are it.”


“So this is not really an auction.”

“It’ll seem like one – I’ll take their bids, but I know already who’s going to win. The others know what her husband does for a living so you have to charm them all. Keep it real. It’s working – the bids are over the top, so thank you. Just keep going. Forget the … stakes.”

“You really do trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes, I just had to tell you. You are very dear to me.”

“You deserve it, Esme. I owe you and of course I’ll do whatever I have to, now, more than ever.”

She rubbed my leg in a way she knows I love.

This time, we hugged.

Back to work.

Part Three

I Learn the Meaning of Real Wealth and Esme Laughs

So, I’m a lesbian whore, I guess. I just accepted it. I like playing roles and this was just one more. What woman hasn’t pretended? What woman doesn’t enjoy running around naked in front of a bunch of other women? There was the UPS guy – he got his eyes full, but everyone else, including me, pretended it wasn’t unusual at all. As he walked back to the truck, he had to hear the gales of laughter from inside. Then, he pretended not to notice.

The FedEx woman asked for my phone number. I gave her Esme’s card. I don’t know what she thought, but she laughed as she touched my palm.

The clients were a varied lot. They looked and some touched and I blushed and bent and jiggled and played along, flirting unconsciously with each of them while they had their hair done and their manicures and pedicures. One paid extra to have me give her the pedicure and the nail girl coached me through it. That wasn’t unusual for an ‘extra’, I guess, but I’ve never seen one nude before.

It gave her a great view, I guess. Esme said she had the highest bid so far.

I asked her what I was supposed to do for the one who’d ‘win’ me.

“You’ll just do what comes naturally. She won’t be crude or coarse, like you are some piece of meat she’s bought. She’ll seduce you and I’m sure you’ll just seduce her right back. She’s a bit older than me, but she has the money to keep herself in great shape and she is very beautiful. I think you’ll find her charming and lovely and enjoyable to be with…”

“So, based on what we’ve done together…”

“I’m sure she’ll teach you something new. She is a woman of the world and I happen to know she was trained before she married.”


“Darling, in the best families, tutoring in the arts of love is hardly anything special. She was taught by someone very special how to do what most of us have to learn by making mistakes. Since then, she has indulged herself enough to grow that knowledge. I’m sure you’ll be … pleasantly surprised.”

“What’s her husband think about all her ‘broadening’?”

“He’s greatly rewarded by her talents. He wouldn’t have it any other way. All his friends are very jealous, and wish they could trade places with him. He shares with them, just enough to make them jealous. You must understand – one weekend of her attentions and he’s …”

“Wanting another weekend?”

She laughed, “Yes, you understand.”

“Esme, she can’t know more kaçak casino than…you.”

“She can and she does. You’ll have things to teach me…” she looked up, alarmed.

“If we become friends again?”

She sniffed, “Yes, if you can …forgive me.” Her eyes, so moist, gazed into mine.

“I’d be furious if you hadn’t asked me. I understand how hard it was to ask me.”

“I didn’t really ask, though…” she smiled.

“You didn’t, did you? I know how you’re going to pay me back.” I smiled back.

We were co-conspirators.

Friends, again.

Part Four

Belly Lick is not just the title of a Song

She’s gorgeous.

She’s blonde. All over.

Firm. Supple.

She smells wonderful. I think it’s herbal, something she eats.

I thought she’d be … older.

If there’s something loose on her, I haven’t found it.

Believe me, I’ve looked.

She was so slick. I didn’t know we’d started and we were in the middle of something that would get you arrested in South Carolina not twenty years ago. I was panting, aching for release, but not wanting anything to change and damn, had we even kissed, yet? Oh, baby, baby, baby…

Is that her finger? I didn’t think … and she’s doing it with both hands?

She pauses, “Close your eyes and I’ll…”

I close and feel her lips on my neck, my chest, I feel her hands on my bottom and oh, my nipple…my nipple…gentle suction and how does she reach my…

Her eyes are green, so green, I’ll never forget the color…and I’m coming. Damn, where did that come from? Women don’t work that way, do they? I’m peaking, again, again, not there, not…

I wake.

“You’ve been asleep for a while. It’s good. You’re relaxed. There’s something I want to do while you’re still bound to the bed frame.”

I struggle. When did she tie me?

“You’re so beautiful. Do not talk. I want you to listen. You’re so beautiful when you listen. I can tell. You’re lips so full, so lush. They’ll learn to please every part of me before you sleep again.”

I start to drift off. So…sleepy.

Something slashes across my tummy. I spasm, the pain sharp, then ends.

“Sorry, dear, there won’t be a mark. I won’t do it again, either. You’ll thank me for waking you.”

A most feminine bottom presents itself to my lush lips.

“Now, lick. I’ll teach you how.”

I lick and lick, try to …

Her lips reward me as I’m doing what she wants. I rise in pleasure at her touch. No hands, just her lips on me. I lick, touch, round, round.

Her tongue penetrates, so firmly, and I follow along. Sweet, sweet music – the cellist and violinist will join us on the bed after a few more songs. She remains in charge, kissing so sweetly, her directions so sure…

Pleasure for pleasure.

(Oh, thank you, Esme, thank you.)

Part Five

A Gift Makes Us Friends for Life

How can a week seem a year? When you do not sleep. When your waking hours are filled with pleasures never imagined, with delights ever sweet, with pauses at each of the infinite stages of pleasure, say, halfway there – I’ve been to the end so many times, I know what halfway is, now, and I know it well – she takes me there and holds me on and on and on, laughing at my frustration, my fingertips quivering on her lovely warm skin, then she slides me up and down the scale, making me watch, the finality of release hers and hers alone to give, then she teaches me to play her the same way and we try to match real music with each others’ bodies.

Finality teases, beckons, waves from a distance.

One flick of her hand and I’m there.

When I wake, she teaches me to do it to her. I slash her tummy and she comes and comes.

There are prizes for pleasing each other. She introduces me to her husband, a lovely man with talents all his own and makes him show me something she swears only three men alive today can do to a woman.

I have to believe her. It was unusual.

I do not want it to end. There is no love, that is unstated but understood from the beginning.

Just pleasure. Mountains of it, rendered in a way that’s never tiring.

It goes by in the blink of an eye.

She convinces me I’ve given her something special, too, something she’ll remember.

“Teach it to Esme,” she says.

Oh, yes, she gives me back to Esme.

“My husband and I have decided to renew our vows and remain faithful to one another for a time. I’m sorry, dear, but our pleasure is at an end.”

She not only paid my mortgage off, she gave me a piece of the bank.

They call me, “Ma’am”, now, when I come in for a board meeting.

Esme welcomed me back and I tied her down and tickled her for an hour.

She hates that.

To make me quit, she promised to do my nails every week for a year.


I think she likes to do them.

She likes my tips even more.

Belly lick.

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