The Brothel in Old Amsterdam

I had always been quite close to my Dad ever since my Mother left when I was quite young. We had always had the sort of relationship with no secrets and when he started to question why I hadn’t got a girl friend I wasn’t embarrassed.

“When I was your age I had been with several girls and here you are at eighteen and you haven’t brought one home!”

“I know Dad,” I said, “I guess it’s just that I’m a bit shy.”

“Tell you what,” he said with a wink, “If I give you some money you might find a girl who can help you.”

He never did shock me and to be truthful the thought of visiting a brothel was something that I had long had an urge to do.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I was young once and I’ve “been there and done that!” Just be very careful that you make it safe.”

I decided to take the ferry to Holland and visit Amsterdam where I knew it was all legal. I booked in at a sleazy little hotel near the centre and in the evening decided to have a look around. My heart was in my mouth as I found the brothel area and peered into first one window and then another to look at the half naked girls bent on enticing customers in. Eventually I went back to the hotel without daring to do more than just look.

In the morning I had decided that I had come all this way and it was about time I took a grip on myself. Nervously I knocked on the door of one of the houses and almost immediately it was opened by a woman who was smartly dressed in a suit and clearly about to go out. The woman explained that they were not open for business and I should come back later. Just then the phone rang in the house and she hurried back inside to answer it.

I had plucked up courage to knock on the door and now I found myself still standing there when she returned.

“You come in now,” she ordered. Once inside I was struck by the overpowering scent of perfume and the erotic pictures on the wall.

“I not have to go out now,” she explained. The phone message had obviously cancelled the need for her to go.

“What you want,” she asked me abruptly?

I stuttered that last evening I had seen the pretty girl in the window. She said nothing but I was shown into a reception room and was once again met with that overpowering perfume. The woman, who said her name was Ingrid, spoke broken English.

She was quite tall and elegant and certainly looked smart in her conservative suit but was quite heavily made up. There was no mistaking the powerful aura of sexual attraction that a professional prostitute had for me.

Ingrid was the “Madam” of the house. She was a woman with a powerful personality and ruled her girls ruthlessly but fairly. They all adored her and would do anything to please her. When Ingrid wanted one of them for her own pleasure any one of them would go to her bed willingly and eagerly.

Strong men would feel overcome by her personality and many would get enormous sexual satisfaction when they yielded to her and she became their dominatrix.

“So you want Lisa?”

I was then shown into a bedroom with a large bed and again that exotic scent of perfume which was having the effect of making me slightly light headed.

“Wait here darling,” she said.

She called me “darling!” I was beginning to panic now and wished that I was anywhere other than in the bedroom of a brothel!

Ingrid eventually returned and looked at her young victim. I was sitting nervously on the edge of the bed and she told me what I suspect she had known all along, that Lisa was still asleep. Now I really began to panic. She had manoeuvred me into a position where I had all but committed myself and I could see that Ingrid herself was to be my “girl”.

“Your first time,” she asked me?

“No, of course not,” I replied with a faltering voice. I could feel the colour drain from my face. Ingrid, who was probably in her late thirties and twice my age now approached right up to me and I felt the first hint of what was to come when she took my face in her hands and her eyes met mine.

“I think it your first time,” she said. “Is ok pretty boy, always has to be a first time,” and she gave me a motherly kiss on my forehead.

She retreated away from me again and I admired her elegant figure as she undid the buttons of her jacket and swept it regally aside to put her hands on her hips. Her breasts, which were quite firm strained against her tight white nylon blouse.

“You like,” she said? “Yes, very nice,” I stuttered.

“I teach you good and then you go fuck all the girls,” said Ingrid, laughing.

“How much you got?”

I told her and she said that it was not enough. I couldn’t help feeling relieved. I said I was sorry to waste her time but that was all I had with me.

But Ingrid was not about to let me escape. She enjoyed “breaking in” youngsters – of both sexes and that was probably why she had admitted me after normal working hours.

“What you want to do,” was the next question?

“But you said I hadn’t enough money.”

“Usually that would only be enough for a hand job,” she said, “but for you I let you fuck me.”

The panic returned but she had finished playing with me and now took total charge.

She once more approached me and I clumsily took her in my arms and tried to kiss her. She broke free. “No kiss,” she said. “I never let customers kiss on lips,”

Then she turned her back to me and I realised that I was being ordered to help her off with her jacket. I slipped it off her and it was carefully laid it on the back of a chair. I was still behind her when I daringly put my arms around her and fondled and squeezed her breasts.

Ingrid looked over her shoulder at me and gave a reassuring little smile. Encouraged by this I started to undo the buttons of her blouse. Once more she objected and preferred to remove the blouse herself. Slowly and deliberately she undid the buttons and pulled the blouse out from her skirt.

All the time she fixed me with a powerful gaze. I felt intimidated and this, of course, was her intention. At last she stood before me stripped to the waist apart from her lacy bra which concealed firm shapely breasts. I tried to unclip her bra but she turned to face me before I could do so.

She looked down at my tight jeans. “Dear dear, darling, just look at you,” she said and firmly grasped the bulge.

From the time that I had first entered the brothel and received those first whiffs of perfume I had been very aroused. At first I was disappointed that she was not one of the young girls I had seen in the windows the previous evening. But Ingrid was a seasoned hooker and totally in control of me. The feeling of being dominated by this superior woman was making me hopelessly excited.

She ordered me to sit on the bed and my jeans, together with my boxers were soon down around my ankles and my manhood sprang out to say hello! She pulled my shirt off and I was now naked in the presence of this formidable woman. I blushed in embarrassment and was feeling totally submissive as she kissed me on the cheek.

“Don’t be shy darling,” she said reassuringly, but all the time she was secretly intent on humiliating me. This was simply having the effect of arousing me more and more.

“Now you undress Ingrid!”

I knelt before my mistress and fumbled with her skirt fastening. She stepped out of it and Ingrid now stood before me in matching black bra and panties and grip-top nylons. She stood over me with her legs apart and her hands on her hips. This dominatrix knew exactly what she was doing.

I slid my hands beneath her panties and caressed her soft bottom and gently pulled her to me to kiss her pussy through her panties. It was an act of total submission. I was her slave and wondered what she was going to do with me next.

I soon found out as Ingrid made me stand up and led me over to a washbasin by my rock hard manhood. She ran some hot water and I was commanded to stand against the sink as she washed my pecker. The water was hot and she was masturbating me with her hot soapy hands.

She looked approvingly at my huge erection. “You are lucky boy,” she said. There was a twinkle in her eye as she looked straight at me. “Lucky girls too,” she said and grinned.

A towel was handed to me and she lay on the bed and patted the mattress beside her. Ingrid was enjoying teasing this young boy. She had seen much older and experienced men who became intoxicated by her dominating personality and she enjoyed exploiting it.

Obediently I did as I was told and my hand slid up her thigh and under the wide leg of those lacy French knickers to caress her vagina lips.

“No, no, like this darling, like this,” she said and guided my fingers to her clitoris and showed me exactly what to do to really render a girl helpless.

A second finger was guided to a pressure point just at the base of her anus. After a short time I could feel Ingrid becoming distinctly aroused as I caressed her clit and applied pressure where she had told me to.

“You touch a girl there like that and she never able to resist you,” explained my teacher.

Then I was instructed to stand while she sat on the edge of the bed. The reason for washing my cock was then explained as she took it into her mouth and I felt the ecstasy of oral sex for the first time. Ingrid was nothing if not experienced and she enjoyed bringing me to the brink. She stopped fucking me with her mouth as soon as she recognised the tell tale signs of a boy who was about to cum.

As she lay down on the white sheets with her black hair spread over the pillow and still in her black underwear I kneeled between her parted legs. My knee pushed against her pussy as I felt behind her to unclip her bra. She lifted her bottom as I pulled her panties off to reveal her shaven pussy. I put her panties to my face and was intoxicated by that powerful perfume.

Apart from her nylons, those scarlet red lips and that irresistible perfume, Ingrid the professional tart was naked and willing and eager for me to fuck her. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

I was still firmly under her control and had this strong desire to do everything I could to please her. Now that her panties were off I found myself kissing that smooth pussy. Ingrid put her hands on my head to keep it there.