Lola Smirnova - Twisted

‘Here we are,’ my sister comments without surprise, ‘every time the same story!’

Natalia explains that we are not going to wake him up until the hour is over. We just sit there naked, next to our zonked-out sleeping beauty, drinking champagne and quietly talking about everyday stuff.

It probably looks insanely peaceful from the outside…

As soon as the hour is finished, Natalia wakes him up and starts to tear him into pieces. ‘Baby, how could you do that to us! Two horny sisters, and you, selfish animal, just fell asleep on us! Now, you owe us both a great orgasm at the same time… Let’s take another bottle and do it!’

To my big surprise, the man, half-drunk, half-asleep, nods guiltily and reaches for his wallet. Natalia goes to call the waiter to swipe the card, while I cover his naked body with his shirt. The manager shows up in a few seconds with the card machine and another two bottles. The payment goes through and we are left in the room alone again.

J.P. looks wide awake and ready for the action to resume. But after another glass of bubbly he passes out again during a super-passionate kiss with Natalia. We let him sleep. Another hour later, Natalia wakes him up. She is fibbing that he was incomparably good and that whatever he did to us was the best experience we’d ever had. He smiles and nods with absolutely misplaced complacency, then lets us make him drink some coffee and send him home with €1,500 less in his bank account.

Without a doubt, what I witness shakes me up, but also kind of makes me feel proud of my sisters. It is clear that they have been polishing this craft – trying to understand what the client wants, to discover his weaknesses and use them to get control over the situation, and to make him pay. Even though I have no idea how to do all that, I definitely know that I can master it with time – if I will use my pussy together with my brain…

About a week after Lena’s devoid-of-compassion tutorial and Natalia’s fetishistic assignment, I also had a shift that would turn any of the girls green with envy – I made €400 in one night.

What’s more, for the first time in my life I experienced an orgy. The wild gathering consisted of four participants: two clients, me and another of my colleagues, who, as it turned out later, used to be a man. Also, there was a lot of champagne, magic white powder, and at least two dozen condoms, which the garçon was shyly but desperately borrowing from the other girls around the club when ours ran out.

Nobody in the room knew that there was a transsexual among us until the last hour of the night…

Her name was Claudia – by passport, Murat Kaya, Turkish citizen, 23 years old. A beautiful, intelligent and very feminine woman; no wonder none of us, for the whole night of our promiscuity, noticed anything abnormal. She, or at that stage he, was born in a small town somewhere in Eastern Anatolia, and by the age of twelve had already realised that nature had made a cruel mistake… He was a woman in a man’s body.

Of course, Murat never shared his thoughts and feelings, not even with his family. He secretly gathered information and quickly learnt that there were many people like him all over the world. And even though his hometown was not the best place to live with such a ‘malformation’, at least the boy knew he was not alone. As soon as Murat turned eighteen, he received a passport. He headed to Istanbul, and then moved to Europe, where his problem had a solution – even though this involved a series of expensive tests and surgeries. After a few years of hard work and savings, he could eventually afford the transformation from an unhappy fellow full of complexes to an attractive and confident woman.

Everything was working out well for Claudia, except for the legalities. By Turkish law she couldn’t change her gender and acquire a new identity. Moreover, as the holder of a passport in the name of Murat, she couldn’t go back home and visit her family, because as soon as she reached the Turkish border she would be detained and forced to serve military duty – regardless of her long, blond hair and magnificent D cup under her sweater…

Anyway, as moving as this story is, it’s not the one I want to tell you…

My off-the-wall night starts when the two fellows, my future orgy team, walk into the club at the beginning of the shift. They’re already remarkably tipsy. I’m sitting at the bar right at the spot where they land for their first drink. I greet them with a wide smile, ‘Hello guys! How are you?’

One of them turns and looks at me like I’m some importunate nuisance, pulls an arrogant face and turns back to his friend, talking and laughing. I angrily kill the remains of my cigarette in the ashtray, throw in a half-voiced ‘Придурки!’ [8] Russian, ‘Jerks!’ and leave the rude twosome. I’ve got a show to dance in less than twenty minutes, so I need to go upstairs to my room to get changed into my show-garb of a nurse with a heart-shaped stethoscope.

My music starts and I step onto the stage. The guy who just turned me down so meanly notices me, and interrupts the girl who is trying to hook up with him, in the same cocky way as he did with me just a few minutes ago. He gets up from the table where his friend is already talking to Claudia, and, spellbound, moves towards the stage saying something I can’t hear. But I can read his lips: ‘Wow! She is hot!’

Through my whole performance, he stares at me as if I were Salma Hayek who had come down from Hollywood, and as if it was his lifelong dream to meet me, I mean her, from the moment he’d first watched the legendary From Dusk till Dawn .

What an idiot! A few minutes ago he didn’t find me attractive and now look at him! He is drooling all over the place!

I haven’t even changed back into my dress after the show when the garçon knocks on the door of my room and tells me that two customers are settled in séparé number three – the biggest private room in the club – waiting for me.

I hurriedly fix my make-up, spray some perfume and rush down the stairs.

There are two big couches in the room that face each other. They are separated by a considerably big wooden coffee table, which is already decorated with two shiny buckets full of ice, a golden bottle’s neck sticking out of each of them. One couch is occupied by my new admirer, who is looking at me with pure adoration in his eyes. On the other one is Claudia with the second guy. Those two are so busy kissing and caressing each other that they haven’t even noticed me walking in.

‘My name is Chris,’ my new bad-mannered friend tells me while filling my glass to the top, ‘and I must tell you it’s a beautiful show you did down there…’ I thank him and nervously swallow the bubbly.

The idea of us sharing the room is making me uncomfortable. I am desperately looking for the right words in my head to convince him to relocate to another séparé .

‘Chris, would you like…?’ Before I can finish, he leans towards me, pushing me to lie down.

‘Oh yes, Julia, I would like…’ and he starts covering my body with clumsy kisses while pulling my little strapless red dress down to the floor. And as I turn away to let him wet my neck rather than my mouth, I see naked Claudia rhythmically moving on the top of the also already undressed friend of Chris.

Okay. I get it… we are not going to move to another room…

For some time, we just intensively hump in front of each other; it feels absolutely insane to be watched while having sex and eyeing the other couple doing the same in front of you.

By the time we’re onto bottle number three, a few hours later, all four of us have ended up on one couch, creating an agglomeration of human bodies that is moving wildly and making sluttish noises.