Miranda Holmes locked the door of her small grey Ford car, straightened her grey skirt and checked her grey jacket in the reflection in the glass of the car door before she turned and walked up the short cracked and broken concrete pathway to the fading peeling blue painted door of Number Three, Alderman Lucas Drive, a boring ordinary Council house in the post war Austerity style just off the Hinksey Road on the East Canning estate.
Miranda knocked loudly, then she stood back away from the door and waited, but nothing seemed to happen. She listened intently for sounds of movement but heard nothing, the silence complete, except, as she strained above the background hum of the city she heard the muted mumble of daytime TV, "Mrs Jarvis, I know you're in there, we have an appointment," Miranda shouted once more.
Queenie Jarvis puffed slowly at her cigarette as she stood immobile in the corner of the front room of her modest home, number Three, Queenie had intended to slip out to avoid Miss Rice, the social worker, but she woke up late and still had not bothered to get dressed, and her bathrobe lay out of reach on the brown leather easy chair and just her thin trademark sheer black negligee, a thong and a tight black laced corset kept out the cold. She shivered as she pulled her thin negligee tighter around her, so her ample breasts were even more clearly out lined. She regretted not having the curtains tightly closed as she tried to get comfortable, to ease the tightly laced corset where it chafed on the implant scar under her left breast, she eased her thong where it was wedged in her arse crack, and wished she was not wearing her three inch heeled stilettos as her feet hurt.
The TV remote control lay with her crisp freshly laundered black DD brassiere on the coffee table out of reach, along with her cigarette papers and lighter.
She knew she had about ten minutes to keep hidden before the social worker got bored and went away so she inhaled the rich blend of home grown herbs and tried to relax.
"Mrs Jarvis!" the voice shrilled, "I watched you go in!"
Queenie eased slowly into a position where she could look through the gap in the curtains and saw a slight figure dressed in grey, her heart sank, she had expected Sandra Rice, three knocks, card through the letter box and off down the pub was her way of working, but this was someone new.
Queenie coughed, and before she realised she was looking into the mean bespectacled eyes of her adversary.
"I knew it!" she said "I am Miranda Holmes of Social Services, we have an appointment so let me in!"
Queenie shuffled across the filthy brown fitted carpet, picking her way through videos, toys, pizza boxes, discarded paper plates, part empty coffee cups and various magazines as she passed between the brown leather couch, and the coffee table and past the wide screen TV towards the hallway and front door. She kicked off her shoes and put on her grubby pink fluffy slippers, grabbed her thick blue bathrobe which slid easily over her sheer black negligee and with her rich peroxide blonde hair in curlers she looked the personification of the English housewife, only her bra less, surgically enhanced, DD breasts and freshly re-touched garish red lipstick really jarred.
"Sorry love," Queenie said brightly, "I didn't hear you."
"May I come in," Miranda replied.
"Yes, mind the mess!" Oueenie cautioned as Miranda stepped cautiously through the doorway.
"Your Children Mrs Jarvis," Miranda asked accusingly, "Do you know where they are."
Queenie thought hard, she remembered they were watching TV then nothing, suddenly the answer became clear, "At School?"
Miranda, was surprised, "Really, then you don't mind if I look around."
"Be my guest love" Queenie suggested.
Miranda retraced her steps to the hallway, she peered into the kitchen diner where a mountain of dishes awaited attention in the sink, while the kitchen units and table appeared to groan under the weight of take away boxes and empty cans.
She started to climb the stairs, cautiously, carefully trying to avoid tell tale creaks from the treads.
"Take your shoes off if you're going upstairs." Queenie ordered, "And leave me Rabbit alone."
Miranda set her worn shoes neatly on the lowest stair, she felt strangely naked as she climbed the stairs in her stockinged feet, wary of needles, she ascended slowly.
The first bedroom was peculiar, small, dark, dirty, the single low energy bulb glowed feebly spilling its brown light across the filthy floor, the heavy worn curtains hid shutters which kept out the daylight, and as Miranda's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw the two bunk beds, with bedding on both tiers, one either side of the room. Posters adorned the walls competing for space with clothes hooks and cheap worn storage units and shelves loaded with children's clothes and toys both girls and boys. It was as if both sexes shared the room.
Puzzled, Miranda tried another door, it opened to reveal a room full of junk, some of it discarded boxes once containing new items, much of just junk as far as Miranda could see but junk surrounded the worn single bed, a small TV Video unit, sat beyond the bed and the decor was tobacco stained, discarded clothing some soiled, some apparently fresh was liberally strewn around. The bed itself was in disarray, the duvet cast aside, the stained under sheet crumpled, Miranda realised Queenie had almost certainly been sleeping here until quite recently.
The next door opened into the bathroom, it was filthy as Miranda expected, green tiles, bulging and loose, covered the wall above a green bath with a cracked front panel, and a filthy green shower curtain hung from a rail by the distorted and leaking shower fitting.
A pile of discarded underwear filled the far corner behind the porcelain lavatory pan, and Miranda quickly shut the door to keep the smell of dampness and worse inside.
Miranda was hardly surprised, she had seen worse, at least there was no evidence of dogs, or drugs, but on opening the third bedroom door Miranda was unprepared for the shock.
Red lights, the light switch at the door switched on red lights which cast a dull red glow across the king size bed, the crisp white sheets effectively turned pink by its luminescence while the scarlet duvet cover and quilted headboard added to the image of debauchery and sin.
Scarlet carpets, scarlet curtains turning the daylight pink, everything red, the red walls, adorned, draped she soon noticed with various womens undergarments, each crisp and freshly washed and laundered, bras, panties, corsets, and as her eyes took in the scene she noticed on the far wall a collection of whips handcuffs and chains. Leather straps, harnesses, collars, small and large, and strange constricting devices, even gags filled a further wall, each on its own hook of bracket.
A shelf below the mirror held a wide range of cosmetics and below that Miranda could see various ladies toys lined up, Dildos, Plugs, Vibrators, all neatly aligned and arranged in order of size in complete contrast to the disorder the rest of the house displayed.
"Leave me Rabbit alone." Queenie suddenly shouted, "And don't use the bog."
Miranda suddenly noticed the lavatory, a glazed Porcelain standard WC but strangely erotic as the red light turned it pink, yet it was set within the bedroom, no screening of any sort, with a wash hand basin alongside.
"Rabbit" Miranda queried.
"Rampant Rabbit" Queenie bellowed, "I don't want it dripping with your cunt juice."
"Mrs Jarvis!" Miranda protested, "May I assure you." she had not noticed that Queenie had come upstairs.
"Nice innit." Queenie suggested, "It's where I work see, brings me gentlemen, have I shocked you miss prim and proper."
"No" Miranda sighed, "It's what I was led to expect." but she was still surprised at the contrast.
"Fucking hard work fucking men." Queenie expounded, as she stood in the doorway.
"But it must have its compensations, I expect you find it all very satisfying," Miranda replied breezily as she turned and went to return to the hallway.
"No, it ain't satisfying, that's why I needs me Rabbit." Queenie replied
"So who sleeps here?" Miranda asked stupidly.
"No one this is me work room, I sleeps next door and the kids have the other."
"What boys and girls together." Miranda suggested.
"There's no harm," said Queenie, "I gives em rubbers."
Miranda felt physically sick.
"Only Joking," joked Queenie, "They know the score."
"It says here you have seven children?" Miranda asked.
"Thereabouts," agreed Queenie.
"Well do you?"
"And two of them are called Tony!"
"Yes, different surnames see, to confuse you lot, works a treat don't it.!"
"Mrs Jarvis, please, I have to tell you that my recommendation is that they be taken into care." Miranda explained
"What about me money, me child allowance all that?" Queenie queried.
"Cancelled," Miranda said with a smirk of Triumph.
"Then they stops here with me." Queenie insisted.
"It's quite obvious that the accommodation is hopelessly inadequate, and. indeed that you are an unfit mother, a prostitute and a" The fingers of Queenies left hand curled around Miranda's face with a resonating slap as the force of the unexpected blow silenced Miranda instantly.
The shock threw Miranda off balance and as Queenie lunged forward Miranda found herself falling face down onto Queenie's bed, the breath knocked from her body. "uggh" she moaned, then before she could to recover Queenie had grabbed her right arm, and puhed it agonisingly high up her back pinning her down.
"Let me go!" Miranda squealed.
"How much?" Queenie demanded. "How much money do you want?"
"It's not money its the kids well being." Miranda squealed.
"I works hard for them kids." Queenie explained.
"Flat on your back, hard work, I don't think so." Miranda squeaked.
Queenie released her grip slightly "You bloody think it's like screwing your boyfriend twenty four seven don't you you stupid little bitch."
"Well isn't it?" Miranda suggested.
"No.it's fucking hard work, you imagine, some bloke you never met comes and you have to do what he wants, you know, bangs on the door, some coffin dodger with a stick." Queenie explained, "Or else some guy who has saved up and is so over excited he cums before he hardly gets it in."
"Oh, I never thought." said Miranda,
"Fucking judging when you don't know the half," Queenie complained, "I had tits like yours at school, B cup, but what's the good of them in my game, so I had to have all this fucking sillicon shoved up em, its no bloody fun, they don't unhook, I'm fucking stuck with them twenty four seven."
"Mrs Jarvis!" Miranda squealed, "Let me go."
Miranda struggled and tried to get free, but Queenie held her firm.
"No you bloody bitch you stay down." Queenie demanded.
Miranda heard rather than felt the zipper on her skirt pulled down, "Hey," she wailed, "now stop that."
"No, let's see what a straight laced pencil pusher looks like."
Miranda regretted wearing the thong, and the hold up stockings, but she liked to remain cool in the sultry summer weather, and.
"No, you can't do that" Miranda protested as Queenie edged the grey skirt down her dark stockinged legs , pushing it clear of the bed to fall in a heap on the floor,"Stop." she cried but instead she felt Queenie's hands on the buttons of her jacket then the gentle tugging as Queenie pulled it backwards down her back and off her arms as she pinned them behind her back.
"Stop that right now," Miranda squealed but Queenie was well into her stride, reaching out to grab a set of Handcuffs, keyless playcuffs but with a rachet, and Miranda felt real fear as she felt the cold metal clamping down onto her pale skin, firm immovable, grating against her wrist as she tried to pull her hand clear, and suddenly as Queenie attached the second cuff Miranda realised she was completely unable to free herself.
"Mrs Jarvis please." Miranda struggled to sit up but now Queenie was busy with the buttons on Miranda's tight white blouse.
"Nasty cheap rubbish," Queenie muttered, as she fumbled with the tiny buttons and button holes then suddenly she lost patience and she simply grabbed the back of Miranda's blouse and tugged, the stitching along the bottom edge started to stretch then suddenly it was tearing, ripping faster and faster exposing more and more of Miranda's pale back and shoulders until finally the tear reached her her collar and the garment fell in half.
"No" squealed Miranda but Queenie pulled again and this time the sleeves tore away and she was able to throw the ruined shirt away into the far corner of the room, leaving just the sleeves draped over her lower arms, "You're in real trouble now, that was expensive." she complained.
"It was tat you little liar," Queenie chortled "Supermarket Tat, nice bra though," she mumbled, as she flipped the catch, the tension released it fell forward revealing Miranda's small delicate breasts, "My god it's padded, my your chest's as flat as a bloke." Queenie exclaimed unfairly.
"That's enough!" Miranda squealed but as she squirmed around on the bed helplessly Queenie grabbed a second pair of handcuffs from a bracket on the wall, a set with a long chain between cuffs and fastened one end around Miranda's slender ankle and the other around the polished mahogany leg of the bed.
Queenie stood back from the bed and watched Miranda as she struggled to sit up. Queenie decided that she liked what she saw, "You don't look so bloody official now, " she observed.
"You're over-dressed you don't need those here." Queenie observed as she grabbed the waistband of Miranda's thong and pulled it firmly down, past the broad elasticated band atb the top of Miranda's pull ups and on down her shapely slender thighs to nestle around her ankles.
Miranda struggled flailing her free leg but Queenie was too strong and Miranda was left wearing just her pull up stockings, with her panties around her left leg and her Bra hanging loose from her shoulders.
"You look a mess," Queenie suggested, "Better get that Bra off," she announced as she fished a pair of scissors from a drawer.
"The, the straps unhook" Miranda said quietly, "Please don't spoil it."
Queenie felt around the straps and released the clips so she could pull the bra clear.
Miranda started to panic as she saw Queenie was still brandishing the scissors, she cut away the remaining sleeves from Miranda's blouse and then Queenie suggested, "Better stay really still," Miranda's eyes widened and she held her breath as she watched Queenie advance the blades towards the light brown curls of Miranda's crotch.
"Oh god no" Miranda pleaded but though Queenie was cutting, snipping, stripping away the downy fur from her pubis. Miranda was at least relieved that she was not cutting her prized chestnut hair, she shuddered at the thought of being left bald, forced to wear a wig, she gritted her teeth and prayed Queenie would be careful.
"Keep still or I might cut your clit off." Queenie advised as she worked steadily away, snipping with an expert quick clicking motion sending a cascade of fine hairs onto the the bed, Queenie wiped her finger along the long slit to remove stray hairs, she flicked the hairs on the floor and then raised her finger to her lips.
"You taste of piss you filthy cow." Queenie announced, then mocking Miranda's middle class accent she continued "You need to improve you personal hygiene if you're going to look after my men dear."
"No, look this has gone far enough." Miranda announced as she tried desperately to regain control of her situation but Queenie had other ideas.
Miranda heard the buzzing and thought at first Queenie had a vibrator, but then she realised it was a cordless shaver, "No time to get you waxed, so this will have to do," she told Miranda as she gently moved the floating heads over the the gentle folds and the stubble of Miranda's remaining pubic hair, leaving a smooth swathe in it's wake.
"Please no." Miranda pleaded as Queenie dextrously moved the buzzing cutters around Miranda's now hairless mound.
"There, that's better," Queenie suggested as she wiped Miranda sex with a wet wipe, continuing through her legs to freshen around her anus before gently inserting a finger tip within the enveloping folds of her Labia.
"No," Miranda pleaded once more but Queenie withdrew the finger and raised it to her mouth to taste it once more,
"Much more acceptable." Oueenie announced in the mocking middle class accent as she smiled as she delivered her verdict.
"All right, you've had your fun, now let me go!" Miranda demanded, pushing Queenie away with her shoulder, as she tried again to free herself but Queenie had other ideas, she stood up and walked to the far wall, carefully selected a black leather dog collar from its hook and a long leash from a drawer and as Queenie returned to the bed Miranda was helpless to prevent her fastening the collar around her neck.
Miranda was aghast at this further humiliation but she could do nothing to prevent it as Queenie pulled the leash to drag Miranda off balance once more sending her sprawling across the bed before she looped the loose end in a crude knot around the far leg of the bed.
Queenie took a second leash, from the drawer, tied it around the bed frame before she took down another set of handcuffs and after a brief struggle she secured Miranda's loose leg and despite her frantic writhing she pinned Miranda's legs firmly before releasing the handcuffs one by one so she could peel Miranda's thong off.
Miranda realised to her horror that as Queenie again tightened the cuffs around her ankles that she was spread untidily across the bed, her legs spread, her sex displayed and totally vulnerable.
Queenie stood back breathing heavily, the sweat running from her forehead, she wiped it away with her hand before wiping her hand on her sheer black negligee.
"You needs a corset," Queenie announced, she spotted something suitable on a hook on the bedroom wall and pulled it down, It looked like a regular corset, it even had adjustable laces but the zipper made it supremely practical and Queenie realised the gaudy red and black cheap leather effect corset would be eminently suitable for Miranda's new role.
It took but a few seconds for Queenie to put the corset in position, she simply pushed and slid it under Miranda's side before pulling it closed around her, before pulling up the zipper. to hold Miranda's tummy flat which had the effect of pushing up her vestigial breasts.
"My tits were just like that," Queenie announced, "Except my nips didn't stand up that much, are you a dyke dear?"
"No, I'm cold." Miranda protested, but the beads of sweat glistening between her breasts proved the contrary.
"Nearly done dear, lets make you look pretty" Queenie suggested as she selected garish pink eye shadow, bright scarlet lipstick,and deodorant from her toiletries on the shelf below the mirror. She put them on the bed and first started to colour Miranda's lips, Miranda jerked away but Queenie grabbed her shoulder length chestnut hair and used it as a handle to keep her head firm.
The thin line of dull red lips rapidly gave way to an uneven garish scarlet slash, sexy yet cheap, as Queenie liberally applied the lipstick then she was busy with the eye shadow, colouring Miranda's eyelids as Miranda cowered in fear of being blinded, blusher crudely applied gave the glow of health to Miranda's pallid cheeks, then more scarlet lipstick, but this time she applied it to the lips of Miranda's sex.
Finally Queenie stood back to admire her handiwork, but realised there was more to do, the chestnut hair cascading, spoiled the illusion, Queenie thought about cutting it but then decided to separate it into child like pig tails, she had ribbons in a drawer and with pins and ribbons she soon had Miranda's hair tied awkwardly like that of a rebellious teenager.
The effect of separating Miranda's chestnut locks into two ribboned pig tails was dramatic suddenly she was a caricature of innocence, a cheap tart personified, her own dark stockings and Queenie's corset her only clothing but clothing intended to accentuate not hide her sexuality.
It was the work,of a moment for Queenie to take out Miranda's diamond ear studs and replace them with a pair of huge, gaudy, ugly, cheap ear rings which she had found on a market stall, and suddenly Queenie realised she had done what she jokingly set out to do, she had transformed the social worker into a tart, a cheap tart, but not a prostitute.
The realisation dawned, Queenie had joked that Miranda could do her three o'clock client, now she realised it would be easier for Miranda to do the three o'clock, in fact there was no way she could get Miranda out of the bedroom in time, and the gentleman was only a weedy office worker with a premature ejaculation problem, all she had to do to was sell it as bondage and shut Miranda up somehow.
"All right, please enough is enough." Miranda again suggested but Queenie saw the ideal item hanging on the wall in front of her, a red and black ball gag with an elasticated strap.Queenie took it from its hook and held it close to Miranda's mouth.
"No" Miranda protested through gritted teeth, as she realised Queenie's intentions, but Queenie just held her nose until she needed to breath and then as her mouth opened Queenie forcibly and brutally pushed the gag deep into Miranda's mouth and tightened the straps to pull it firmly into place.
"Comfy?" asked Queenie, Miranda shook her head.
"Good you can do me three o'clock," Queenie said brightly as she took a tube of lubricant and squirted it all along Miranda's lipstick smeared slit before working some gently into the softness of her sex.
Suddenly they heard a knock at the door. Queenie rushed to the wardrobe and grabbed a simple skirt and top which she threw on at lightening speed before slipping a simple housecoat over th top.
"Back in a mo" she said and slipped from the room to descend the stairs.