α drεαm iη pαris [Violet & Agnes]

[Agnes]

 

[Violet or Vi]

Amalia Ava Martínez, called Maya my friends and family, had just arrived at Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport. She never had visited Paris before, or French for that matter, she didn't even speak the language. Her nervousness through the roof, how did she even end up here? Oh yes, right. The debt and the offer. Her student debt, and the offer by the woman willing to pay for it.
Being in debt sucks, being $10k in debt sucks even more, and having no idea how to pay for it only made it worst. Being a student wasn't easy and apparently also not very cheap, especially if one comes from a poor background and doesn't work on the side. Parents not making enough to pay for it, and so one thing quickly led to another, her dad's business going under only added to the pressure. Amalia was struggling and needed to find a way to make some money, a lot of money.
One night, while browsing the web, she stumbled upon a site that connected people. Well, saying it was a site to 'connect people' was being rather euphemistic about the purpose of said site. It was a site for sugar babes. Having already played around with the idea of opening up some content subscription service as a last resort, offering herself up as a Sugar Baby wasn't so out there and far from being as public. Finding some rich guy to pamper her for a while and only having to look pretty collecting the money sounded like a win-win to her. And Amalia certainly had the looks. Long legs, ample chest, honey-colored skin, and a cute face covered in the most adorable amount of freckles. Willing to go along with being a sugar babe for a bit, not minding the chance of it coming to sex either. Amalia was straight, single, and knew she had the looks.

In the end, she got a rather surprising offer, an offer of a lifetime one might say. The surprising part being that didn't came from some old guy, like she excepted, but from a beautiful woman. And even after Amalia explained that she is straight, the offer was still there. Reluctantly she accepted.

One week Paris with all expenses paid, no other qualifications needed other than looking pretty at the side of some woman's arm. That was it. It was too good to be true. At first she didn't believe it even being a real offer but after some time chatting with the woman and getting wired $2k without any questions asked, she couldn't say no.

The woman making that offer? Miss Mercedes. That's all Maya knew about her at first, a name. But with a bit of research she found out more, a full name, that she was rich, and around twelve years older than herself. As if that wasn't already obvious.

The young Latina stretched out her arms and legs after sitting for hours. Looking down on herself she saw red, more specifically a red blouse, Mercedes told her to wear one and so she did. Probably just so she could find her more easily, not like the woman would tell her what to wear...
It was the only thing she specifically wore for one reason or the other. Otherwise, the young woman was dressed pretty casually. A tight, dark blue jeans, with the nice side effect of nicely drawing attention to her round bottom, cladding her legs. A pair of comfortable white sneakers covering her feet. And a long, cream-colored coat to keep her warm rounded out the fall outfit.

Amalia didn't put on much make-up, she wasn't in the mood to doll herself up for a few hour-long flight, not to mention having no intention in giving the older woman the wrong idea. So she kept simple, a hint of eyeliner, a hit of pink on her lips to accent her naturally plush lips, and some coral-colored nail polish. Her hair was dark brown hair, neck-length hair and she wore it open. Mercedes had told her to wear it open.

Standing outside the airport by the cabs with people coming and going, she felt like someone forgot to pick her up. Anxiously looking around for the woman who was supposed to come and get her. One hand reaching into her pocket pulling out her phone to check if there was any new message.

 

[Agnes]

Tick, tock. Tick tock.

Was it only Mercy, or did time go slower when you were waiting for someone? For the umpteenth time that day, the Latina checked the time on her phone - the plane landed twenty minutes ago. With getting through customs and collecting luggage, it made sense that Amalia would take a while to come out, but it still did nothing to assuage her anxiety. Confident as she was in this whole affair, Mercy was still pretty nervous; this was her first time actually paying someone for their companionship, after all. Being a successful woman was hard, all things considered. Half the people she met were intimidated by her and the other half scoffed at her for getting rich through Daddy's money. Unfortunately, this applied to the dating pool as well, which was already small enough given her sexuality. For women like her, hookups were a dime a dozen - girls liked to throw themselves at her, after all - but long-lasting relationships were few and far between. The last stable girlfriend she had was way back in university, over a decade ago.

So, was paying a girl to be her sugar baby for a week going to solve things? Probably not. Paying a straight girl to be her sugar baby? Abso-fucking-lutely not. But at this point, Mercedes Costa-Villacrés was well beyond caring. She'd have her fun where she wants it, and she'd decided sitting on a straight girl's face was fun. The girl in question - Amalia Martínez, an art major student with more debt than both her parents' yearly incomes combined. It didn't take much work to offer her the money; $10K was nickles and dimes as far as Mercy was concerned. It took more effort to actually convince the girl that she wanted her on the job, despite the fact that she was straight. Especially because she was straight, though she conveniently left that part out in their conversations.

Taking her mind off things, she glanced in the rearview mirror to retouch her makeup. She'd opted for something simple and elegant this time; eyeliner and light blue eyeshadow, some faint blush, dark red lips. Enough to show that she'd put on a face for the occasion, but not so much as to look pompous. Clad in a simple, professional white blouse and skinny black jeans, wrapped in a beige overcoat, the brunette was the definition of casual chic, if she said so herself. Her go-to choice of fashion, presentable and stylish, befitting of an heiress to a pharmaceutical empire, though her sense of style was drilled into her from a young age by her mother, long before she started working for her father at Costa Pharmaceutical. Perfection was demanded from all the Costa-Villacrés children.

No wonder we're all so fucked up, she mused.

Just then, people started filing out of the terminal, greeted by friends and colleagues as they left one by one. Her light hazel eyes searched the crowds with razor-like sharpness, but she still wasn't here. No red blouse. Tapping her well-manicured fingers against the steering wheel, she waited impatiently for the girl to come out, even as the crowd started thinning. Eventually, she came out when most others had left, wearing that red blouse Mercy had told her to wear, and keeping her hair down and open, also as she'd told her to. The Latina found herself nodding impressedly. She looks like she takes this seriously, at the very least. A good sign, if anything. Not to mention, she had a body that was absolutely not done justice in the photos she posted - ample chest and a cute behind, honey-colored skin with a face that was visibly gorgeous even from far away. She did, however, look quite like a deer in the headlights, her eyes flitting between her phone and her surroundings. A coy smirk on her lips, Mercy took out her own mobile and tapped out two quick messages to Amalia.

New Messages ³

<Look to your left.>
<The blue Mercedes. Don't laugh.>
<You look pretty cute when you're nervous.>

Then, she revved up the engine of her rented Mercedes (haha, very funny) and gently rolled towards where the girl was standing. She had been in France for around a month now, closing a sponsorship deal with a few Major hospitals in France, and she was not going to travel around in public transport, nor was she going to give a foreign country her hard-earned money in taxes by purchasing a vehicle. With a squeak, her windows rolled down, revealing a smiling Mercy, who took of her sunglasses and greeted the younger girl with a small wink. "Hola. You must be Amalia, right?" She asked in a clear-cut Seattle accent, though hints of her Cuban origin still peaked through here and there. Surreptitiously, her eyes wandered across the young woman's body, lingering longest on her chest, before flicking back up to her face, that pretty face with the button nose and pouty lips and adorable freckles. "¿Estuvo bien el vuelo?" A little bit of Spanish to help calm the poor girl down - perks of both being Hispanic - and she invited her to get in with a tilt of her head. "Well, don't just stand there like a statue, it's cold outside. Hop in."

 

[Violet or Vi]

"Just great," she mumbled to herself, phone back in her pocket with one hand holding onto the strap of her duffel bag.

Feeling the vibration against her thigh just a moment later, she quickly pulled her phone back out of the pocket, eager find out the reason. Heart skipping a beat as bronze eyes quickly scanned over the screen to read the new messages. Cheeks lightly glowing as answer to the compliment and mentioning of her obvious nervousness mere moments before her head snapped to her left. The messages stayed unanswered. Seeing the blue Mercedes, her phone sliding back into the jeans pocket. Amalia couldn't resist to give the waiting woman with the same name as the car a light chuckle and playful eye roll, puns. Not even having to walk over as Mercedes in the rented Mercedes (very funny indeed) came to her. Amalia leaned forward slightly with a shy smiled back, left hand coming up to brush strains of hair behind her ear. Leaning down offered Mercedes just the slightest hint of cleavage under Amalia's red blouse, her ample chest making it impossible not to, while pushing out her round backside.

"¡Hola! That's me. You must be Miss Mercedes, in the Mercedes." She replied with a light chuckle, unable to resist the pun.
The follow up question in Spanish surprised her a bit but at the same time succeeded in clamming the girl down a little. "Si, muy bien." She replied after a moment in fluent Spanish. Like so many children of immigrants, she was used to speaking and hearing Spanish at home, even if her parents made a concerted effort to speak English around the house. Speaking fluent English was important to Amalia's parents, so both, especially her mother, only slipped into Spanish if a conversation got heated.

Mercedes greeting her in Spanish had the strange side effect of reminding at a particularly heated conversation at home, giving her pause for just a moment. "Y-yes, of course." Amalia picked up the duffel bag she had with her and walked around the car, opening the passenger side door, stuffing the bag behind the front passenger seat. Amalia had packed lightly for the week long trip, Mercedes did say all expenses paid, that included any clothing needs, right?
Sliding her cute, jeans clad, behind onto the passenger seat and get comfortable while fastening her seat belt. Eyes lingering on the fellow Latina, even as a straight girl she had to admit that Mercedes looked stunning. Perfect body all around, lightly tanned skin, a captivating smile, modest chest, and even sitting her backside looked rather lovely. One would think it was time for Amalia to relax now that she was sitting in the car but far from it. This was her first time as sugar baby, with a woman nonetheless, and she had little to no idea what she was supposed to do. A kiss on the cheek? Small talk? A compliment maybe? Yes, that. "You look great, Miss Mercedes. And lovely car, did you pick yourself?" Amalia felt her cheeks warm up, this was awkward.

 

[Agnes]

Car jokes. The bane of her fucking existence. Mercy couldn't help but roll her eyes good-naturedly at the girl. She did like someone who could fill the air with their presence, and Amalia, despite being visibly nervous and shy, seemed quite capable of it. Perhaps a bit of a bratty streak too, considering how she still made the joke after Mercy had told her not to. It brought a smile to her face, hearing the girl reply in fluent Spanish; it reminded her of home in a foreign place, and the woman would be lying if the girl's little accent didn't make her more endearing to her. "Ah, good. I tried to get first-class for you, but everything was already booked, and I wanted to meet you soon, you understand. I know econ isn't the most comfortable," she said somewhat apologetically. Her name usually warranted a seat on any flight she wanted, but sadly the privilege didn't spread to random college girls she was looking to fly over.

The hazel eyes lingered on Amalia as she circled around the car and stuffed her baggage behind the passager seat - a single duffle bag. "You packed light," she commented innocently, thoughts running amok behind the veil of those cool, collected thoughts. It looked as if she only packed her essentials for the trip, not even clothes. Mama Villacrés would skin her alive if she caught Mercy slacking on preparations for trips. It was ingrained into her early on, as a frequent flyer, that she needed to be prepared for any and all emergencies. Luckily for Amalia, Mercy came did just that. Besides, Mercy wasn't complaining; less effort required on her part to put the girl in pretty dresses... or not. Though a part of her suspected that she was quite the smart girl and that she expected the older woman to provide her with all her needs, clothing included. Cheeky.

Finally, she slid into the car, sitting her plump little ass down onto the seat for Mercy's viewing pleasure, which she was quick to shamelessly indulge in. The more she looked at her, the more she became convinced that she had hit jackpot with this one. An hourglass figure that seemed to put her own body to shame, and a beautiful face that looked almost radiant as she smiled at her. Mercedes couldn't help but smile back at her, the grin widening at the influx of compliments. She did so like it when people appreciated her looks and choices. "Aww, aren't you a cutie? Thank you, I tried to dress up a little for you. You can just call me Mercy if you want," she offered as the car rolled out of the airport and into the evening traffic of Paris. It was a lazy Saturday night, and the road was mostly clear as the pair made their way to the hotel Mercy had booked into, the Four Seasons Hotel George V. "And yes, I picked out the car myself. I've been in Paris for about a month now, and I needed to rent something to get around."

A quick glance towards the girl, and already her cheeks were flushed red. Mercy smiled almost predatorily. "Te estás sonrojando, nena," she teased, and gently laid a hand on her thighs, caressing it softly in an attempt to ease the tension. "There's no need to be worried. This will be light and easy and fun, promise." Making empty promises was a habit of Mercy's and in this case, it was no different - but a few white lies here and there wouldn't hurt anyone. "So, Amalia. Is there a nickname can I call you? How are you liking Paris? This is your first time here, right?" she asked just as the beautiful skylines of the city came into view, the whole city kept alight and romantic by the many flickering lights that dotted the buildings. The streets were crowded, most young people starting to come out for a night out, and everywhere one looked, there seemed to be a little shop or landmark of some sort. Of course, there were more visible and famous landmarks in the background, such as the Louvre and the Effiel Tower. "And also your first time doing... this, right?"

 

[Violet or Vi]

Jokes are fun. Brattiness was part of Amalia's personality, she couldn't deny it. And it was just a car pun, not even a joke, just a little, tiny pun. Enjoying the reaction to the fluent Spanish, Miss Mercedes smiling meant she did something right. It was somewhat of a job after all and the client's happiness was important. "I understand, thank you. Economy was just fine. I didn't except first class," she replied not even having considered that first class would've been an option but now that Mercedes mentioned it, it would make sense for a sugar baby to ask only for the best and most luxurious. Maybe she has to be a bit more demanding. Amalia was still new to this, with her intention mostly being on paying off her debt, not living the high life. Considering Mercedes had the money, maybe she should lean into being a bratty sugar baby a bit more? In the end Amalia was still figuring it out as she goes along.

Amalia's light bag had a few reasons. First it was just lighter, second she did expect the older woman to pay for somethings, third the light bag made it easier for her to cover the fact that she was going to Paris for a week. Not keen on the idea of explain her sugar baby side business to her parents and instead just saying that would would stay with her big sister for a week, her sister being the only one knowing anything about this. She did pack some cloths and underwear but certainly not enough for a week, well, it would depend on how often she had to change cloths. But there was also plain cheekiness goes hand in hand with having a bratty streak.

"Thank you, Mis-- Mercy. I'll call you whatever you want," she replied with sweetest smile while making sure to keep eye contact. "You didn't have to dress up for me but it looks great," she added just as the car started rolling. Leaning back and looking out the window, watching Paris come into view. "Makes sense. Why a Mercedes through? Aren't you getting sick of the car puns?" She wondered. Mercedes was far from what Amalia had excepted when she signed-up for the whole Sugar Baby thing. In her mind excepting some old, blading guy with greasy hands and a dad bod. Someone that could be her farther. Mercedes on the other hand was the stark opposite of any of that. A beautiful woman not too far from her own age, twelve years difference if she remembered correctly. Still, her client being a woman was the most surprising part and she wasn't yet sure if it made things easier or harder.

Amalia lifted a hand up to her own cheek to cool it with her colder fingers. "Si, un poco," she admitted as there was no point in denying it. A surprised gasp escaping the girl as the older woman's hand found her thigh, tensioning up from the sensation, her knees closing out of sheer reflex. She was aware that this was part of the deal but it still came as a surprise, especially coming from another woman. Slowly relaxing again as she became aware of her own reaction and how standoffish it must seem, not a good look for a Sugar baby. "I'm not worried..." Two could tell white lies. Amalia was worried, she had no idea what she was doing and what was excepted of her or how far Mercy wanted to go with... Everything. Truth be told, Amalia's mind was racing with all sorts of possible scenarios, ranging from simple day-to-day activities to the lewd. And it all got her worried, she wanted to do a good job while not showing how much of a newbie she is.

"Maya. That's what most people call me, I mean, friends and family. And yes, it is my first time in Paris. It looks great so far. Very romantic place, I just don't speak the language..." she explained, with a smile, while watching the skyline come into view. A truly beautiful sight with the Eiffel Tower off in the distance. "I guess you been here before?" Simple questions to keep the small-talk going even if Mercy follow up question was far from 'small-talk'. Maya pursed her lips for a moment, pausing, before answering with a nod. "Yes, this is my first time doing this. Did you had gi-- Sugar babies before me?"

 

[Agnes]

"You'll call me whatever I want?" she parroted, amusement and intrigue clear as day in her voice. That sounded a lot more salacious than what Amalia probably meant, though there was a part of her that suspected the girl knew full well what she was doing. Nevertheless, the simple assurance seemed to boost the older woman's confidence in going through the whole thing. "Mhm, duly noted." This girl had a silver tongue, no doubt, complimenting her and making her blush and making her roll her eyes with another car joke, all in the same breath. Mercy, for all her severity in life, couldn't help but pop a smile at the younger woman. "Well, you're just going to ask me why I'm not driving a Mercedes if I got a Ford or a Volkswagen, aren't you?" Her light tone and the little laugh made it clear she meant it as a jest. "Might as well go with something I like." She shrugged.

The cutest little gasp escaped the girl as she laid her hand upon her thigh, squeezing lightly. She might've made her even more nervous by touching her, but Mercy would be lying if she said she didn't thoroughly enjoy her reaction. Despite Amalia's surprise and discomfort, Mercedes did not remove her hand, keeping it firmly on her thigh until the younger woman calmed down a little. Good. She learns fast. Taking another bold step, she started to moved her hand up and down, caressing her thigh, going back and forth between her knees and her upper thigh, gliding dangerously close to her crotch. "Well, if you say so..." she cooed, not even looking at the girl as she kept her eyes on the road with a small satisfied smirk. She could almost feel the effect she was having on her, and she absolutely loved it.

"Maya." She rolled the name around in her tongue, getting a feel of it; she liked it - something she could moan over and over in bed. "It's a pretty name," she said cooly, helping to keep the conversation moving. "Mhm, I've been here, many times before. I had the same reaction the first time I came here as a little girl. So romantic and beautiful, but so alien." A wistful sigh escaped her own lips, reminiscing about times when she was actually happy to be with her parents. Whatever happened to the goofy Marcelo and the sweet Maria? It seemed all they were these days were the business magnate Mr. Costa and the socialite Ms. Villacrés. "I can translate for you, Maya. Mes parents m'ont fait apprendre le français quand j'étais petite."

And then the conversation turned towards a more serious topic, one that Maya was quite visibly nervous to answer. She had suspected that she had no experience before, but hearing it confirmed filled her with a sense of power and reassurance. She would be her first... for some reason, Mercy really loved the thought. She too paused a little before she answered, doing so with a gulp and a smile, hoping her answer would put Maya to ease as well. "No. You're my first as well." Teeth caught lip, and for a moment, she wondered if she might be losing the dynamic of power by admitting this, but it was good to build trust, right? "Looks like we're both newbies at this."

Finally, they rolled into the Four Seasons, a grand hotel in downtown Paris with a great view of the city skyline as well as some landmarks. Once they were under the portico, she gave Maya a wink indicating they were at their destination and got out to hand the valet her keys. With no luggage, there was no need for much meandering at the counter, so Mercy held out a hand for Maya to take as she led her into the white-and-gold-clad foyer of the hotel. "The hotel offers a lot of activites, but we should probably go up to the room so you can get settled in." Mercy kept her plans half-hidden most of the time, though her ulterior motives would be quite clear if Maya picked up on the intensity of her gaze and the hungry smile on her lips. "Come on."

 

[Violet or Vi]

"Yes, I'll call you whatever you want." Maya confirmed again, fully aware how it must've sounded after hearing the tone in Mercy's voice. What's the saying? Fake it till you make it. Amalia was pretty much doing her best version of that. Not yet sure how a Sugar Baby was supposed to behave but being a bit of salacious brat sounded like it would do the trick.
"Good." She said, not wanting there to be any awkward silence between the two. Mercy smiling got Maya to smile herself, Mercy was a beautiful woman as is but her smile was just mesmerizing. Even a straight girl like Maya had to admit as such. "Well, okay, yes. I would've but... I wouldn't have except a Ford or a Volkswagen. More like a Porsche or, what's the other one? Audi? Maybe a BMW?" She shrugged, clearly not that versed in cars. "So you like the car puns? They don't drive you crazy?" A cheeky smile coming to her lips.

Amalia was a little surprised as the hand didn't move away after her initial reaction, quite the contrary. Mercy seemed to enjoy not only touching her thigh the reaction she provoked. It certainly didn't help ease her nervousness but the hand wasn't going away. After taking a long, deep breath, the younger woman slowly relaxed, not that she had much of a choice. Might as well get used to this part of being a Sugar Baby. Slowly her knees parted again into a more natural position. Quickly learning what was excepted of her. Still, what followed came as shock. Mercy hand wandering up and down her jeans clad tight, teasing closer and closer to her crotch. "Mhm..." she cooed back while playing it cool. Head turned away from Mercy, keeping her eyes on the world passing by. Lightly chewing on her bottom lip and stifling at least one smaller moan, trying to get her mind of things and thighs. But she couldn't ignore the feeling, the sensation of being wanted. As much as she a hated to admit it, part of her enjoyed it. Everyone loved being wanted but being wanted by another woman...

"Thank you. Mercedes is a lovely name, sounds royal, noble. And great for car related puns." She commented with a nervous chuckle, the hand on her thigh still being a distraction. Mercedes was maybe a bit too long of a name to be moaned over and over again in bed, Mercy on the other hand would be rather easy to moan. The older woman seemed to have the same inclination of always keeping the conversation going, Maye appreciated that. She looked back over to the older woman as she started talking more about Paris and old memories. A somber smile coming to her lips after Mercy's wishful sigh, she felt that. "Your parents—What?" Mes parents was easy enough to figure out but that's were Maya's understanding of French, and what Mercy said, ended.

The cat was out the bag so to say. So much to playing the confident Sugar Baby. Maya feared it would reflect negatively on her and her ability to provide 'entertainment' as a Sugar Babe but it seems to have the opposite effect and Mercy appreciating it being her first time. Firsts always had something magical after all, right? Mercy answer put Maya at ease. A warm smile coming to the girl's plush lips, there was something very sweet and cute about the older woman admitting as such. It would probably do nothing for their power dynamic but build trust. "Looks like it."

Surely Mercedes had other women before her. While, if it came to it, Mercedes would be Maya's first in that regard too.

Maya was in awe, never before had she set foot in a place so luxurious like the For Seasons. This was well above her pay grade or that of anyone in her family. "Wow..." She mumbled with her jaw hanging open, her head turned around and around as she study every part of the foyer. For Mercy this was probably nothing special, for Maya this was a whole new world. A bit surprised at the offered hand but accepting it nonetheless with a smile. "Sounds good. I wouldn't even know what to do in a place like this." Mercy's intentions weren't lost on Maya but she saw no reason on calling the older woman out for that, she could be wrong after all. Maybe Mercedes just wanted to play a bit of solitaire with her, people do that in bedrooms in Paris, right?.

"Lead the way, Mercy. Or did you prefer Miss Mercedes after all?"

 

[Agnes]

Maybe some people do play solitaire in bedrooms in Paris, but it was quite probable they were old couples who's had enough of their vicarious lives and we're now too old and tired for sex. As it were, Mercedes Costa-Villacrés neither old nor tired, and she certainly had not had enough of her life. She was genuinely pleased by Maya's awed expression to the luxurious furnishings of the hotel, and with a faint smile on her lips, she let her take a moment to take in the surroundings before she led her to the elevator to go up to their suite. Their baggage had already been sent up, and so Mercy was quite relaxed with the whole thing, anticipation for what would come later tonight only building as she continued to admire the white and gold gilded walls and pillars along with the younger woman.

"Hmm, usually, I'd prefer Mercy but... Miss Mercedes works for... certain situations." The brunette kept things vague, though she very clearly was thankful to Maya for suggesting the honorific - Mistress Mercedes does roll off the tongue quite well. She could already imagine the beauty squealing and writhing and moaning under her ministrations, calling her by said honorific and vehemently defending her heterosexuality. Mercy couldn't wait. Hand still holding the others, the two of them got into the elevator and ascended towards the fifteenth floor, where only two luxury suites were situated; one of which was theirs for the night. With the confidence of a woman who's done this countless times before, courtesy of her parents and her work, the older woman swiped the keycard and opened the door to room 1501, inside which their luggage had already been delivered, piled on top of each other.

The room was enormous, easily housing a whole family if needed be, though the single double bed and the vast open space suggested that this was for vacationing couples or singles. Matching the decor of the whole hotel, the place was furnished mainly in white and gold, fitting the royal aesthetic. There was a huge plasma TV mounted to the wall opposite the bed, and a balcony to the side separated by a sliding glass door offered a wonderful view of the Parisian night sky, with the Effiel Tower visible in the distance, the Louvre not quite far away. Before they could unpack and settle in, though, Mercy turned to Maya and, for the first time since they met, spoke in a commanding tome that suggested she would entertain no non-sense. "Now, Amalia," she began. "There's only one bed here, as you can see, so we'll be sleeping together for the duration of the trip. I know you're a very smart girl, so you might've guessed that there are... some certain things I expect of you for my entertainment." She held up a hand to silence any queries. "Before you ask, yes, I do know that you're straight. It's the main reason I chose you, actually. Well, that and the fact that you look gorgeous." She cracked a mischievous smile, one that was reminiscent of the laid-back and friendly Mercy that drove her from the airport, but she quickly slipped back into the strict persona, seemingly doing it with ease.

"Some of the things I ask you to do might be uncomfortable. If you ever want to opt out of it, don't be afriad to say so. But, your bonus payment is going to be graded on how well you perform during this whole thing, so keep that in mind, yes? Do you understand so far? Nod if you do." She paused, waiting for confirmation, before continuing on with the air of a strict mistress. "Now, take off your sneakers, unpack your things if you want. If you need anything, ask, and I'll help you. Okay?" Her voice turned back into that of a friendly employer, and she too started to settle in. "When you're done, come tell me. I have a few things in mind for tonight."

 

[Violet or Vi]

Some people may play solitaire in the bedrooms of Paris, at least Amalie saw something like that once in a movie, but that was more of a comedy. No, she probably wouldn't get away with solitaire, at least not while sharing a bedroom with Mercedes. Mercedes, what a name, she had to admit it rolled off the tongue nicely. In which tone it would roll off her tongue would probably soon change. In a way Maya tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind, focusing on the luxurious furnishings of the hotel helped, for a moment. Just a moment. Soon following into the elevator.

Standing with Mercedes alone in the elevator was a bit awkward, elevator rides always seem to be. But it wasn't just awkwardness that lingered in the air, there was also a tension that Maya couldn't really identify. The young girl kept smiling, if only weakly, all through the elevator ride and walk to their suit.

Anticipation wasn't only building in the older woman, it was rising sky high for the wannabe Sugar Baby. What did she get herself into? What was the woman planning? For Mercedes it was anticipation, for Maya it was anticipation and uncertainty. Uncertainty of what's to come.

"For certain situations?" Maya couldn't resist asking with a teasing lilt in her tone, a sly smirk dancing over her lips as she looked over to the woman. She hadn't even thought about making Mistress out of the Miss, well, that was a lie. The thought had crossed her mind but Maya quickly pushed it away, like so many others, for being silly on her part. So far she was defending her heterosexuality, so far. Even with her mind being in the gutters of Paris. Holding hands did nudge the young girl a little towards the other side, it was just a nice feeling holding Mercy's soft hand.

Fifteenth floor, luxury suites, the high-life. Maya couldn't even dream of what laid in front of her eyes. A soft "Wow..." tumbling out her lips. If the hotel lobby was another world, this was another universe. Her eyes did not even know where to look first, what to stare at first, what to make of everything. At first, Maya didn't even notice that there was only one bed, how could she? The decor was demanding attention. Not to mention the breathtaking view, so romantic. And the TV was bigger than her parent's bed back home. Maya was stunned by the luxury on display, barely daring to touch anything.

But all that was nothing to what came next. For the first time, there was something else in Mercy's tone. Something that demanded attention. Attention Maya would give without any protest. Gazing into the eyes of the slightly taller women, she listed. Eyes flickering over to the single double bed for a moment as Mercy mentioned it. Yes, there was only one and Maya quickly put the pieces together in her head, attention back with Mercy. The woman's hand stopping any questions, any inquiries, any insubordinate remarks. She had a few things on mind before Mercy continued, after she spoke she had only one question in mind. Why would she being straight be the main reason? Deep down she already knew the answer to that question but had a hard time accepting it.
Maya's cheeks flushed lightly pink from the compliment but much more so from the implications of Mercy's comment about her straightness. Was she straight? Her steadfastness was threatening to dwindle under the older woman's assault.

Some things would be uncomfortable, she excepted as much. Maya was, as Mercy said, a smart girl after all. Sugar Baby'ing ain't easy.

After Miss Mercedes had finished speak, Maya nodded slowly while biting her bottom lip. Apparently, it wasn't time to ask any questions, not even where the bathroom is located. Maya had her orders. Without breaking eye contact she lifted her legs while reaching down, pulling her sneakers off one by one, revealing her socks clad feet. "Okay," she simply answered with a smile before walking over to her bag. Not that she planned on unpacking, she had very little brought with her in the first place, but she just needed a moment to herself, away from the older woman's aura.

Maya's mind was racing, her heart was pounding energetically. Fingers trembling. Shutting her eyes she took a few deep breaths, steadying herself. Pulling out her phone she looked at the time, giving herself all of five minutes. Five minutes before she would go back to Miss Mercedes.

"Hey, I'm done. I mean ready. I mean..." she paused to take a breath, smiling as the air escaped her lungs again, "You wanted to see me?" Maya regretted her words as soon as they left her lips, wording it like this sounded like she just showed up at the principles office. Stupid nervousness. Maya crossed her arms under her ample chest while waiting for Mercy's attention.

 

[Agnes]

Unlike Maya, Mercy did have a few things to unpack - mainly essentials and clothes. While both had travelled light, the older woman had taken the precaution to prepare for possible mishaps during the trip (cramps and headaches always take wind out of the sails if you don't have medication on hand), and while going on shopping sprees was part of the experience, Mercedes Costa-Villacrés still had a certain dress code to adhere to a cut above the rest. But as she worked, unzipping the bags and laying out the stuff, her sharp green eyes flicked every now and then to the girl standing over her bag, standing still and seemingly psyching herself up for what was to come.

Mercy allowed herself a small smile. Good. Let her stew a little before they get on with the main course.

A few minutes passed, and the girl came back, looking a bit shaky and unsure in her step, which only brought out a bigger smile from her employer. Sugar Babying wasn't really easy, after all. Still seated on the edge of the bed, she crossed her legs and looked up at the girl, keeping a small but noticable smile plastered on her lips that exuded presence and power. "Yes, I wanted to see you. That's why I flew you out to Paris and booked us a room," she said laughingly, her eyes sparkling with mischief, before she got a hold of herself and cleared her throat. "Ahem. I'm just kidding, Maya."

She looked her up and down once more - what a gorgeous little thing she's managed to bag. Nodding to herself she pulled herself onto her feet, her heels clicking as she slowly circled around the girl, taking her sweet time and letting Maya work out in her mind what she had planned next. She sized her up like a predator looking at her next meal, and in a way, she was. "It's a bit warm here, don't you think?" she suggested. "Take off your coat, Maya." She continued to walk around her, arms crossed, eyes sharp and analytical. Once she was done, she circled back to behind her, and gently placed a hand on her waist, turning her towards the full-length mirror on the side of the bed.

Meeting Maya's pretty eyes through the mirror, she leaned in close and breathed in her scent, unadultered by any perfume, only perhaps mixed in with a little bit of sweat. She smelled good. "Eyes up. Back straight," she ordered, adjusting her posture by pushing her back and her chest at the same time, tipping up her chin so that she stared straight ahead. "Good girl." Manicured fingers then curled in the younger girl's luscious brown locks, carefully working out the little knots in them until it was smooth and shiny. Finally, she leaned her chin on her shoulder, her voice and demeanour casual but her actions anything but.

"Have you ever kissed a woman before, Maya?"

 

[Violet or Vi]

Of course, Maya brought the necessities with her but what was there to unpack, she could leave that stuff in the bag and just reach for it when needed. And the few pieces of her clothes she could just leave in her bag too. Maya had packed light on purpose, not just because she wanted to be pampered. There was much more to it than that. Maya had packed lightly to not raise any suspicion with her parents too. Leaving with one bag for a week is much easier to explain as if one leaves with a trolley full of stuff. She gave herself five minutes but realistically she didn't even need one to unpack. Rummaging around in her bag so it at least looked like she was busy doing something with it instead of just kneeling over it. Simmering away as she got ready to return to Mercy. Only stopping as she noticed she was holding a pair of rose lace panties in her hand. Maya swallowed dryly and stuffed the fabric back into the bag before turning around and walking over.

Pressing her hands against the side of her hip, unsure steps towards the woman that picked her personally. The woman. Her Mommy? Was that the right word? It sounded right considering that all the other sugar babies called their male customers daddy. Maya's bronze pupils flickered over the bed and stuff laid out on it before ending on Mercy. Returning the deep gaze. A soft smile tugging on the corners of Maya's lip. The heat and color in her cheeks rising ever so slightly even before Mercy uttered a word. This smile, the gaze, the beauty, the aura of confidence the older woman radiated was enough to make Maya anxious. It was the unspoken she was nervous about.

"Yes, of course," she chuckled softly. The spark in Mercy's eyes was not lost on the girl. The as to why was. "Yes, yes. I know. Sorry, I made it sound like we're in school," she sighed, brushing a strain of hair behind her ear as nervousness got her fingers to move.

Maya smiled nervously while those green eyes scanned her. Being so obviously evaluated was weird but not bad. Mercy was a gorgeous woman and she had picked her of all the Sugar Babies available. The young girl couldn't resist feeling a sense of pride in that fact. Her mind running wild with all sorts of possibilities of what Mercy had planned, after all, she wasn't just here for the company. She wasn't that naïve.

"Mhm, yeah. Very warm," she replied. Was it just the excellent heating of the high-end hotel or something else that made her feel warm? Maya followed the suggestion, sliding the cream-colored coat over her shoulders and throwing it onto a nearby chair. Turning her head as she tried to follow Mercy around without turning her body. A soft gasp of surprise escaping her as the hand found her wide hip.

Answering the gaze into the mirror with her own. Slow breaths causing her chest to heave up and down slowly while she stares into the mirror. Inhaling the soft hints of Mercy's perfume, it was unavoidable. The woman's smell was intoxicating. Maya's eyes snapped up just as her back straightened. Following orders and getting the reward. 'Good girl.' Two words. So simple yet so effective in sending a shiver down her spine like nothing ever before. Lightly humming while slender fingers raked through her brown mane. Unable to resist the softest of purrs to vibrate in her throat. Maya's head tilted lightly towards Mercy's as she rested it on her shoulder.

"Not in... That way. No. You would be my first, Mercy."

 

[Agnes]

"That's Miss Mercedes to you... Maya."

Her breath tickled the lobe of the younger girl's ear, brushing along her auditory canal, the smugness in her voice palpable in the quiet, luxurious suite. She reckoned that the girl only suggested it as a joke on the elevator ride - Maya obviously fancied herself a comic of sorts, in an utterly adorable way - but she would find out very soon just how serious and business-like Mercedes can be. She blended professionalism and sensuality with effortless flair, and right now, she knew she had the wannabe sugar baby wrapped firmly around her finger. "And... who said I would kiss you, Maya?" she mused with a small chuckle, before placing a light, chaste kiss on her soft, warm cheek. God, this girl was blushing hard. Mercy worried she might turn into an apple at any point. "Assumption is the mother of all mistakes." Daddy would be proud of her for using his favorite quote.


How do these Daddies (or Mommies) break the ice with their sugar babies, Mercy wondered. Do they wine and dine them before taking them to bed and fucking them, like any normal date? Do they demand they jump through hoops to earn their money? Do they use the power they held over them and fuck with their minds? Mercy, obviously belonging to the very last category, mulled over how to approach the situation next. She hadn't fully formed an idea of what to do coming into this, which was a bit unlike her - Mercedes Costa-Villacrés was always prepared. But some things required thinking on the feet, and right now, the rush of power she felt as the younger girl was trapped in her grasp was absolutely delectable and intoxicating. Mercy could get used to this.

Her hands wrapped around the girl, her arms brushing the side of her ample breasts as her fingers glided to the buttons of her red flannel shirt, slowly undoing them, revealing little by little the pale skin and chest that lied underneath. Knowing Maya wouldn't be able to protest in any way, Mercy only pushed forward, the smile on her face growing more devious and domineering as the seconds ticked by. "I just wanted to get to know you." Pop. "We are going to be spending quite a bit of time together, after all." Pop. "Besides... there's no real need to be nervous, is there?" Pop. The shirt came loose, revealing the soft, heavy breasts girded by her bra, and her tummy and her adorable belly button. Kissing her shoulder under her collar, she slowly peeled away her shirt, and threw it onto the chair along with the coat.

Now with the girl exposed from the waist up, Mercy stepped back a bit and admired her handiwork, every angle of her available for her viewing pleasure through the mirror. "Have you ever been naked in front of a woman?" she continued the barrages of questions. She slid a hand between the gap between her legs, suddenly cupping her crotch through her tight jeans. "Have you ever been touched by a woman?" Two fingers gently teased her warm thighs and crotch, before withdrawing slowly and vanishing behind her. It was as if she was examining her like a piece of meat, or a product, rather than a person.

"And I wonder, how far are you willing to go for money, Amalia Martínez?"

 

[Violet or Vi]

Mercy certainly had a way with words.

The warm breath made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Sending tingles down her spine. Maya had been a bit of a brat so far. So far it had worked out. Hopefully, it was even cute, playful, fun, like a Sugar Baby is supposed to be. But Mercy had a way with words. A way to make the brattiness quickly vanish. Being corrected by the older woman only made her cheek light up even more. If Mercy wasn't careful she would shoot right past apple and land on tomato.

"Of course, Miss Mercedes," she breathed. If her parents knew.

A light frown coming to Maya's brow. "Nobody. I just figur—" she replied only to be interrupted by the butterfly against her glowing cheek. Being a brat was hard when you're blushing so hard. The lightest of pouts coming to her already pouty lips. She ran blushed right into that one.

At this point, Maya was thinking the same. How do Daddies (or Mommies) break the ice? She already had ready herself for wine and dine before shifting things towards the bedroom. She had even hoped a little for the wine part if just to find some liquid courage. All for money and fun. What Mercy did was way more 'effective'. Savoring the moment, letting the girl simmer in her own anticipation. Letting her own mind do all the word. Maya had been surprising her a few times already.

Maya didn't know what to do with her hands. So far she had just kept them in front of her waist, idly interlinking and playing with her fingers. Mercy knew what she was doing with her fingers. Masterfully undoing the buttons on her shirt one by one.
Pop. "I want to get to know you too," she whispered, not even lying. Mercy was a fascinating woman. And much more after that. The first pop made Maya gasp. Pop. "At least a week," she mumbled. Who knew what would come after the week was over. After the second she forced herself to relax. She was a Sugar baby. After all, she was supposed to enjoy this, deep down she already enjoyed this. Leaning back ever so slightly she reached out with her hands, searching for the older woman's hips to hold on to.
Pop. "No. No need to be nervous," she agreed while also lying. Maya was a nervous wreck but tried her best to 'fake it till you make it'. Her whole approach to Sugar Babying so far. The last pop got her to chew on her bottom lip, sucking in one corner while eyeing the mirror. Fixated on the mirror image as more and more of her pale, creamy flesh came into view. Those little blemishes, her light tummy, her cute belly button. And at least her ample bosom. Soft and heavy her breasts were cradled by the material of her rose-colored bra.

Lightly tilting her head away from the incoming kiss. The softest of moans pushing over her plush lips, letting her arms hang for the shirt to flow down.

"No," she replied. Maya had a feeling this would soon change but she didn't want to make assumptions again. Barely noticing Mercy's hand moving down towards her crotch before it was too late. A soft yelp coming from the girl as the woman's hand cupped her crotch, holding her breath for just a moment, clenching her thighs together before quickly relaxing again.

"Not like this," she whispered while stifling a whimper with those two fingers teasing her thick thighs. Mercy had brought herself a little brat, a sugar baby, a cutie to play with. It made only sense to inspect the product. Maya could easily rationalize all of it. What she could so easily rationalize was why she enjoyed it so much. The light touches, the cute little kisses, the domineering presences, the possessiveness.

Of all the questions Mercedes asked, the last one was the hardest to answer and Amalia didn't have an answer right away like to all the other questions. Not able to just fall back on memory. How far was she willing to go for money? Part of her wanted to just answer 'as far as you want' but it didn't feel sincere. It took her a moment before answering with a question.

"How far do you want me to go, Miss Mercedes?"