A TGirls 'Winter's Tale' in Amsterdam



Amsterdam is both a city I know very well and one that I love, especially in Winter.  I love its brown bars, intimate restaurants, unique shops and bohemian atmosphere.

I was therefore pleased when Peter suggested a short break in the city.  It had now been several years since I lasted visited, so the thought of a little shopping, a few beers and two nights of good food really appealed to me.

For Peter this was to be part of a business trip, so for me perhaps some extended shopping time!

As usual Peter had given me an envelope with a return flight ticket, some euros and a hotel confirmation.  We were to stay at the Renaissance Hotel, 5 mins walk from central station, by the beautiful Singel Canal, (one of my favourite areas in Amsterdam).  A note with the flight tickets told me that I was to make my own way to Amsterdam, check into the room and to follow the instructions left on the dressing table.  I was to pack my favourite 6 inch heels and a range of sexy clothing for both intimate and restaurant wear.

Peter also told me to include in my case, my leather collar, ball gag, wrist cuffs and whip.  Mmmm, I thought, what does he have in mind and who are they to be used on!

I always follow Peters instructions to the letter, and trust is the basis of all good relationships.  Sat on the plane, however, I started to wonder what Peter had in mind.  He always had treated me well, providing nice gifts, staying in nice hotels, having nice meals, but these things come at a price.  The price being that while I am with Peter I do exactly what he asks of me, this is where the trust comes in.

British Airways from Heathrow was on time and the staff friendly.  From Schiphol airport I was to take the train to Amsterdam Central Station.  Whilst on the train, I took the time to use the toilet to complete dressing.  I was wearing a mini skirt, black top, short winter coat and a pair of black ankle boots with a small heel, (well Amsterdam is well known for its cobbles).   I took a photo of myself on my i-phone,  and text to Peter for both his approval and enjoyment.

On arrival at Central station, I stepped off the train with my suitcase and decided to walk the short distance to the Renaissance Hotel.  It was now late afternoon and outside Central station the tram terminal was busy with commuters , shoppers and tourists.  In front of me was the Damrak, a broad, busy street , to the left Amsterdams famous Red Light District, ("I am sure Peter has already explored there", I mused!).  I wandered past the tourist groups waiting for their canal boat tours, and continued the short distance to the Singel Canal.  For me this is one of Amsterdams prettiest canals, leading down to the world famous floating flower market. Within a couple of minutes I reached the Renaissance Hotel, situated in the Kattengat, a small street off the Singel.   Check in was easy as Peter was already in town, so all I had to do was to register and ask for a key.

The bedroom was large with a big king sized bed, 'no sleep tonight' I thought!  Putting my suitcase down, ready to unpack, I saw that Peter had left an envelope for me on the dressing table.  Opening the letter I was left intrigued with Peters instructions:

“Hi Ana.  Well if your reading this you obviously have arrived OK.  Dinner tonight will be a little late as work is likely to overrun.  With this letter is another letter that you are not to open until 6pm this evening.  In the mean time you are to walk from the hotel, cross the road outside, and go up the narrow road opposite.  Walk to the first street that crosses it. Now familiarise yourself with the remainder of the street (Oude Nieuwstraat), until you come to the bar restaurant at the top.   Time until 7pm is then yours to explore as you wish.”

It was now 4ish and I put back on my short winter jacket.  Crossing the hotel lobby I was aware that the porters eyes following me.  Outside, I crossed Kattengat and started walking up a narrow, dingy street.  Within a minute I was at the junction Peter had mentioned in his letter.  In front of me was Oude Nieuwstraat, a narrow street with a range of windows on either side.  Sat and standing in the windows were a wide range of scantily clad women of various ages, with the tools of their trade on show in their windows.  High heels, whips, strapons, collars and leads to name but a few.  The girls attentions were not on me, but the men who were slowly walking up and down the street, eyeing the girls and occasionally entering their little rooms.  Some had their curtains drawn, I guessed what was happening in there.  Wearing my mini skirt I felt strangely vulnerable in the street.  Jeans and a jumper would have been better.

At the end of the street was the bar restaurant that Peter had mentioned.  It was a busy cut through, with a small bakers and loads of fast moving cyclists. I was intrigued by the street and what Peter had in mind for this evening.  I decided to walk back down the street, taking more time to eye up the girls.  I wondered what it must be like to stand there, trying to attract business, what did they charge, what were the rooms like, what services did they offer.  Leaving the street, I turned left onto the Singel Canal and found a seat to watch the world go by.

I could not fathom out what Peter had in mind, why had he wanted me to familiarise myself with this street.  Perhaps he had selected a girl to join us during my stay, or perhaps he was going to tease me by saying that he had visited a girl in the street earlier in the day.

The truth, which was far more bizarre, would soon be revealed, as I returned to the hotel.  Time had slipped, and it was almost 6pm as I got back to the hotel room.  Peter always liked to surprise me and to test the trust that underpinned our relationship.  I knew I was his girl, but I also knew that he had a range of bizarre fetish and sexual desires.  For Peter role play was very important, he liked to create scenarios for me to play out.  Likewise, I enjoyed these role plays, as they helped me to explore my own sexuality, feelings, desires and inner self.  Nothing, however, was to prepare me for what Peter had planned.

Opening his second letter a key fell out and I read with interest the following:

“Well Ana, I trust you have familiarised yourself with Oude Nieuwstraat.  Yes, its one of the smaller red light districts in Amsterdam.  As you know Ana, there’s no free dinner with me, unless you earn it.  Tonight, that is exactly what your going to do, earn your dinner!  You are to take the small bag from the warbrobe and fill it with your 6 inch heels, stockings (hold ups), sexy knickers, bra and I suggest a lacy top, if you brought one!  Also add in the whip, collar, wrist cuffs, strapon and ball gag.

Enclosed is a key to the 5^th window on the right as you walk up Oude Nieuwstraat (number 5).  You are go leave the hotel at 7 pm, go to the window/room, dress as sexily as the other girls in the street.  When your looking your best, draw back the curtains.  Ana, you are to tout for trade,  just like the other girls do.  Your starting price is 50 euros for a 15minute 'suck and fuck', what you then charge is up to you.

I will be watching you and will visit when I desire!

If you are good and convincing, I will give you a night to remember, and tomorrow I will take you shopping with an intimate dinner to end the day :)

Now lets see what your made off!”

OMG, what was I going to do?  Had Peter lost his mind!  Was this anyway to treat your Tgirl?

'TRUST, remember that Ana, TRUST' an inner voice told me.  Peter enjoyed role playing; I enjoy men eying me up; 'TRUST, TRUST, TRUST'.

Weak at the knees and taking very deep breaths, I made my way to the bathroom to get ready for this 'roller coaster night'.  A nice warm bath with load of bubbles, then time to put on my makeup.  Bright red lipstick, dark eye shadow, mascara to make my eyelashes stand out and not forgetting the eyeliner to draw people in :)

It was almost 7, time to leave.  I wrapped up warm with skinny jeans, grey jumper, and a small cream hat and scarf.  "OK now or never" I thought.  One last deep breath and with my legs shaking, I left the hotel room, small bag in hand.  As a last minute thought, I had added a large quantity of condoms and a tube of lubricant.

Crossing the hotel lobby, the porters and reception staff gave me a casual glance.  It was now dark and very cold outside, with the wind blowing off the North Sea. As I crossed the Kattengat I looked back at the hotel, viewing the groups in the Kopelcafe having beers and early dinner.  It look so safe, and the street I was entering was looking the opposite. 

On reaching the Oude Nieuwstraat, I found the street had change in character.  The pink/red glow from the windows made pools of light down the street.  The girls were tapping on the windows as men walked by.  Shadowy characters stood in doorways watching the windows, some moving out when the curtains were drawn back and the girl reappeared.

One, two, three, four , five.  This must be the place. The curtains were drawn closed, but an outside redlight was on.  It was 2 small steps down to the door.  On either side the windows were occupied by girls who observed my every move. I was also very aware of the men in the shadows and those slowly walking up and down the street, observing me in greater detail.  Would these be the men coming to my door?

This is not a street that attracts tourists, but one whose market is local men on there way home from work, and businessmen from the surrounding 4/5 star hotels.  Trembling I put the key in the door, a simple door consisting of a single sheet of  double glazed glass.  I have never been so thankful in my life that a key worked first time in a lock.

Another very deep breath I entered the room, finding the light switches just inside. With the lights on I immediately, locked the door and drew the curtains across it.  Strangely it seemed safe in the room with the door locked, and both door and window curtains drawn.  The room had a marble tiled greyish floor, a single bed with a clean white fitted sheet pushed into one corner, with mirrors on both walls and one on the celling.  In the other corner a small wash basin with a makeup mirror and small shelf.  Near the bed was a roll of paper towel, and in the window a high bar stool.  I hung my coat, scarf and hat in a small wardrobe by the sink . 

Time to dress…

Off came the grey cashmere roll neck jumper, sensible ankle boots and  skinny jeans.  I put on a sexyblack lacy thong, which just holds in my TGirl surprise. Followed by a matching push up bra, which makes the most of my tiny boobs.   Up my long legs, I rolled sexy black (hold up) stockings .  Finally, I slipped my feet into 6 inch heels. I had decided to start the evening with a lacy see through, tight fitting top on.  My excuse was that I may feel cold in the window.  The truth being that it was part of my body armour, which I was to discard later in the evening.

'OMG what am I doing!'  I carefully walked across to the mirrors.  'How convincing will I be?'  Apart from the look of terror on my face, I looked good.  No better than that, I looked really sensual, sexy and inviting.

It was now 7.45, where was the time going.  A quick touch up on the makeup, then time to dim the lights. I moved to the door, hesitantly drawing the curtain back.  Then to the window.  As I drew the curtains back I was aware of the inviting glow of the UV and red lights which the previous girl had left on in the window.

Carefully, in my high heels, I lifted myself on to the bar stool. It was pitch black outside, and my vision was curtailed to the small pool of light from my window.  I was surprised at how little I could see from the inside, yet how much one could see in from the outside.  I saw men slowly walking past, giving me an inquisitive look.  Some stop for a longer look.  My head was filled with contradiction’s.  'Was I just white meat in a window for anyone to use, or was I a seductress offering untold pleasure'.

I suddenly remembered the toys I had brought.  Dismounting my stool I carefully tottered to the little wardrobe, and from my bag pulled out the collar, whip and strapon.  I decided to wear the collar.  It felt tight and gave me a dominatrix type of confidence.  I decided to place the strapon and wrist cuffs in the red glow of the window, and as I sat back on the stool, I crossed my legs and gently tapped the whip in my left hand.  

Time seemed to pass slowly.  Men walked passed my window, staring, making gestures.  I had no idea where Peter was.  He could be in a meeting, drinking in a bar, having a gourmet dinner or watching me from the shadows.  As my confidence grew, I started smiling at the passing trade, trying to catch their eye.  I saw them speaking to my neighbours, and then after a short conversation entering their rooms.  I started tapping at the window as I saw men, (or any one), approaching.

Just as I was feeling comfortable and safe again, a young man stopped and stared.  He made his way to the door.  I seemed to fall into an automatic mode, and before I knew it, I had opened the door.  He spoke Dutch. I gave a blank look and said "English".  He was quiet for a minute and then said, “Suck and Fuck”.  Before I had time to think I had said 70 euros.  “Too much girl” he said before moving off.

My heart seemed to beat again.  I returned to the stool in the window.  Within five minutes a middle aged man stopped and stared. I caught his eye and lifted my right hand, beckoning him closer.  He looked to one side, I thought he was disinterested, until I realised that he was looking at the strap on.  Down the two steps to the door he came. “That in me, how much” he said.  An easy win I thought, “50 euros and a good time” I said.

To my surprise he said ok, and before I could think it through, I had opened the door.  He came in.  I drew the curtains, locked the door, and told him to strip off. I took the 50 euros straight away.  He stood naked, and I decided to put his hands behind his back and cuff him.  I then got him on 'all fours' on the bed, while I put the strapon on.  Standing in front of him, I rolled a condom onto the dildo and applied a liberal quantity of lube.  Then I moved behind hims and grab his hips.  He squealed and squirmed as I pushed the strapon dildo into him.  I started fucking him, first slowly then faster and faster.  I become fascinated, watching my own movements in the mirrors around the bed.  I watched how my body moved, how upright my back was, and how my hair flowed.

I never realised that I could be so rough and before I knew it, he had cum.  I grasped the paper towel and wiped him clean.  He seamed to be happy. I watched him dress and saw him to the door.  To my surprise he said "thank you", and stated he would come back tomorrow.  Mmm I thought, 'your be lucky if I still here!'

Time to straighten the bed, then touch up the makeup.  Within 10mins, I had drawn the curtains back and was sat back on my stool with increased confidence.

Within a few minutes an couple of young guys came to the door.  They were English, and through their drunken stupor I think they wanted to 'Spit Roast' me. I have often fantasied on this, but not with two drunken English yobs on a night out.  “200 euros” I said.  "You cow, Piss off” they said pushing at the door. I pushed back and locked it. A bang on the door, a few abusive words, a spit on the step and then they staggered off.

Big sigh of relief, legs shaking I returned to the stool.  'Who next',  I thought.  'Where is Peter?'

People drifted up and down the street. It was around 40 mins before the next client took a real interest in me.  He stood there, mouth open and tongue rolling around his lips.  Down the two steps he came. “You give oral” he said. “30 euros” I said “with condom”.  “Ok” he said, moving into the room. ”Shit” I though, “I why did I say 30!”.

On automatic, I told him to strip off.  I asked for the 30 euros, drew the door and window curtains.  I rolled a condom onto his massive cock.  Sinking to my knees, I took his cock into my hands.  Gently I licked the underneath of his cock head, then, slowly started taking his cock into my mouth.   It was massive, 'how deep could I take it'.  I felt his hand behind my head, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth and now  my throat.

I moved him onto the bed, and this time noticed how he watch me in the mirrors as I bobbed up and down on his cock.  The fast and harder I sucked, the harder he pulled me to him.  'I should have cuffed him!'
Deeper into my throat he came. I did not gag, but in a strange way enjoyed it.  Suddenly he jerked and thrust this cock deep into my throat.  I felt him cum.  Without the condom, his seed would have been pumped down my throat.  His hands relax and quickly I pulled his cock from my throat and mouth.  The teat of the condom was fill to bursting with his seed.  Strangely I had enjoyed.  As I watched his cock go limp, I wondered what his cum would have tasted like.

Clothes on, out of the door, makeup touched up,  curtains drawn back and I was on the stool again, watching the passing trade of men.

I was so intensely watching the passing trade, tapping on the window, trying to attract attention, that I was surprised by the knock on the door.  Automatically now I slipped off the stool, and tottered on my 6 inch heels to the door.  Without looking up I partly opened the door.  “How much for a suck and fuck" I heard the man say, but this time it was different …. a voice I knew.  I looked up and saw the smiling face of Peter.  “Well?" he said … I let him in, locked the door, drew the curtains on the door and window and replied, “You cannot buy what I give freely to you Peter”.

He wrapped his arms around me and said: “I’ve been watching you Ana.  I saw them leave, and they all looked pleased and satisfied.” He pulled me close and I felt his hard cock against my body, I knew that my window time had aroused him to an almost uncontrolled degree..  “So can you satisfy me?” asked Peter.  I now knew what he wanted…. What he needed!

“Shopping and dinner tomorrow, if you can really please and satisfy me", said Peter.   I told him to strip, his cock stood proud.  Arms wrapped around him, I moved him to the small, tripled mirrored bed.  “Your mine” I thought, "and your pay for it tomorrow when I shop”.