Only the best for Vlad

There is something traditionally glamorous and exciting about wearing a long-dress and being twirled around a dance-floor.

I’ve only been to two balls and the last had been hosted by the Russian gentleman who owned my apartment “a man with a true lust for escorts with expensive taste”. I was accompanying a colleague of his, Vlad. In my memory, I recalled a school lesson about someone called “Vlad the Impaler.” I felt my cheeks redden at the thought of how he might impale me during the course of the evening.

The ball was held at a mansion in Surrey. When we arrived at a dimly lit, electric-gated entrance, the chauffeur whispered a password in Russian and the gate opened.

I wondered why the oligarch had not requested a blonde Russian lady, as I was sure there would have been many beautiful girls available in London he would be able to converse with.

When I arrived, I quickly rang my agency to let them know I had arrived. I could hear voices and laughing just beyond the huge, gilded double doors and the sound of musicians tuning up their instruments. Instead, I was shown to a side room where two other girls looked at me. One was a  flame-haired girl, the second was a tall, black-haired lady with a large bust.

A tall, handsome man appeared through another gilded door, with a scar on his forehead and brilliant blue eyes. A Russian Daniel Craig lookalike, I thought as he talked to the two other girls in turn and kissed their hands. The other two girls cast a side glance at me and left the room.

The man walked over. “I am Vlad. You are truly beautiful. Please strip for me.” I didn’t hesitate as I slipped my dress off easily and it fell to the floor. I neatly stepped out of it and picked it up. “Good, I like neatness,” he whispered and watched me ease my underwear off. He walked towards me and asked me to kneel as he unzipped his trousers. “I need you to do this, so I can relax and enjoy the rest of the evening with you.” I reached to him and raised an eyebrow as I pulled down his trousers and boxer shorts and asked him to step out of them. “We don’t want any creases in these, or mess, do we?” He laughed and obediently stepped out of them. “I think I will enjoy my time with you,” Vlad whispered, as his hand caressed my cheek.

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