Working Girl Ch. 02

{This is only mildly erotic. It isn't intended to be erotic, really. It is simply the story of a woman, her life changed due to circumstance.}

My name is Dana. I am a prostitute.

Never in my previous life would I have even dreamed of letting men have sex with me for pay, but sometimes life throws curves.

I let men, and some women, use the most intimate parts of me for their own gratification. Some try to be kind and loving, wanting me to assure them. I quickly become the loving woman who worships them, I give them a moment of being strong, being desired.

Some women look down on me. I hold my head high. Is their Mink coat, Diamond ring, fancy dinner any different than my envelope with cash?

I have the need to see it that way, it keeps me sane to rationalize.

Some men hire me to grab at me and call me names, thrusting at me not in passion but in fear, even hate. I become obedient, I do as they tell me.

I have been called names like slut and whore, bitch, cunt. The words intend to belittle me to allow some to feel better than me in their own world. I just allow them to use me, be in charge.

But are they really any better? They all are doing the same as me. The difference is they must pay me to get me to do it at all.

I think in truth that I may be a better person than the men and women who use me. Most would use me if I allowed it, but most cannot unless they pay. They would not be good enough any other way.

I must believe that to continue.

My husband Dan was terribly injured in a car accident. Strapped to a wheelchair, he moves only his left arm and fingers. He does not speak, except by touching the keys of the always online computer in his room. Even the most basic of body functions must be dealt with.

Dan writes. He writes constantly, one laborious keystroke at a time. Many of you have read his work, not knowing the true source. His entire world is inside of him, it comes out on the screen. Some stories have been sold, for a pittance.

Every pittance helps, Dan tries.

Inside those crushed remains of a once fine strong man is still the man I love, the man I swore myself to for all time. Our life together was not magic, it was comfortable and good. Dan loved me gently, no kinkiness, no shooting stars. Just kindness and sharing. I was a totally faithful, conservative housewife, completely content. Dan worked, I cooked and scrubbed our little piece of the world until it gleamed for him.

Then the terrible accident. I could cope with caring for Dan, I could cope with most of the changes to my life.

But the costs. The costs of medical, then simply living. Even with insurance, minimal Government assistance, we were going downhill at the rate of around $2000 each and every month. That sweet sounding clause, "Covers 90% of all costs over....."

No one ever expects two million in medical costs and ongoing of $200,000 each and every year.

Soon nearly everything was gone, there simply was no sign of finances ever getting better. Dan and I both forgot about disability insurance, and insurance to cover our home. Had he died? Then the house was paid for.

But Dan didn't die, that became our problem. There was no one, no agency to help. Nothing at all.

Just me.

One day a man from the bank arrived with papers. We had reached the end. If we lost the house, Dan would die, I knew that. I did not even have the money to rent an apartment.

The bank just wanted their money, I could understand.

It was that man that gave me the idea, he had looked me up and down pointedly and suggested that "Something could be worked out."

I knew exactly what he meant.

I almost agreed, and might have except Dan was sitting right there, helpless. The man from the bank spoke to me like my husband was a table, a piece of furniture in the room.

Dan can hear fine.

I thought long and hard before I ran the ad, not even sure if I could go through with it. Sex for pay? Would anyone even have an interest in someone like me? I knew about men, knew about their desires from fumblings in the back seat of cars, but I was completely naive in the ways of sex. I did get some comfort in using an online ad service, I could at least be anonymous.

I set my price very high. I believe it was actually in self defense, thinking no one would ever pay that much.

I found out very quickly that yes, they would!

A man named Carl was my first, I was lucky. He was not harsh or evil, he simply had a need and wanted me to fill it. He seemed to delight in my amateurish first time attempts to please him.

I know I blushed at my nakedness before him, and I know that when I allowed him to enter me, I had taken the final step. Up until that exact instant, I simply was not sure I could go through with it. But I did, I allowed it, I did it to save Dan.

There is no way back from taking that step.

Like I said, I was lucky. Carl actually turned out to be kind, even gentle. As much as I fought my own enjoyment, my body betrayed me and took over. I had several powerful orgasms with Carl, I think part of that may have been due to my personal struggle not to, I am unsure there.

Try to understand tears, a crying inside with shame and yet orgasming out of control. My long untouched body just reacted, I had no control at all.

I felt like I had cheated, betrayed my husband, the man I loved.

The $500 for a quick hour or so of intimacy, if that is the correct term, seemed high to me. I was surprised that it was paid so readily.

Carl took me under his wing, so to speak. He became a protector of sorts. Some would call him a pimp, he wasn't. He took nothing from me I did not allow, he always paid. He also had business associates, and mentioned me to some of them.

Over time, I serviced several of his business connections. They soon became a blur of faces, one male erection after another. Sometimes three or four at once. I liked several at once, I would fall back into my shy "first time" act, and they often tipped me very well to seduce me.

Almost without fail, they would then hire me later for private sessions. One even hired me to let him fuck me while his wife sat and watched, then they wanted me to watch while he fucked his wife. I could feel his penis bend with each stroke at me, I closed my legs to grip him snugly so he could stay erect enough to not slip out.

Then she wanted me, too.

I did that. My first taste of another woman. I watched as her husband then managed an enormous erection.

I knew I would be well paid.

Another was a surprise, a giant black man. I hesitated, I had never been with a black man. I read of black men with huge penises, he was large but just another client. He pushed at me saying, "White pussy, White pussy." over and over.

I soon became numb to all the scenarios, all of the illicit desires I was hired to act out. I became very good at reading what a client wanted, a few simple changes in manner and body language and their reactions told me what I needed to do.

One much older man opened his hotel room door, looked me up and down. The expression on his face showed me that he was unhappy with my overly sexy manner of dress. I took a chance.

"Daddy, I am sorry. Do you want me to change?"

He turned back to me, his eyes bright and I knew.

"Yes, you are a bad girl going out like that, go change."

I always tried to come prepared, different possibilities were in my carry bag. I put on simple white cotton panties and a flared skirt, with a button up the front white blouse. The old man had me lay over his lap while he gently paddled me, slowly pulling my panties down until my bottom was bare. Then his fingers reached deeper and deeper between the cheeks of my ass, until finally he was touching my pussy with each pat on the behind.

He was basically molesting me, I pretended innocence.

I wiggled and squirmed, managing to first release the catch on his pants, then open his fly almost by accident. Finally he slipped free, his erection poking up between my legs. I moved around as he patted my behind until the head was touching my entrance. I turned slightly and he entered me. There was no time for a condom, I knew trying to use one would spoil his mood.

Yes, there are risks.

I acted surprised, saying, "Oh what's that, Daddy?".

Oddly that was fun, I saw him several times. $500 each time, plus Carl paid me too for taking care of his clients.

Carl had me visit him every couple of weeks, also. I became comfortable with him. He was the only other one I allowed without a condom, I had simply forgotten a condom the first time, there was no need after that. Without fail I reached climax with him.

Somehow even though I was paid, Carl became my outlet for my own body's needs. Other than that, my life degenerated into dealing with Dan's needs and making my next appointment.

There were rapid financial improvements in Dan's and my life. I got caught up with the bank, and used some of the extra money to purchase equipment that monitored and adjusted Dan's body temperature automatically. I installed an alarm system for in case something happened while I was out. One touch and the home health nurse could respond in minutes.

Those were life changing tools for me, now I was free to leave for several hours instead of just two or three.

I even bought a better car, used but at least not beat up and noisy.

My life became a routine, get up, feed Dan, take care of his needs. Then shower and get fixed up for whomever I had on my schedule. It seemed that nearly every day someone was on my schedule.

Dan didn't seem to notice, at least he never mentioned it to me. We talked often though, he would type out the words, I would speak to him. In my mind, I thought he didn't know what I was doing. In retrospect, I realize he had to, of course.

It took me three long years to pay off the medical bills, and during the same period I also paid off our house. All that remained was the ongoing medical and living costs. I remember the day the insurance ran out, the other sweet fine print clause that came as an "addendum" that read, "For a maximum of five years...".

I was now resigned to my fate.

Long gone were the tears at what I did for a living, the correct word is numb. Only with Carl did I allow myself to let go, with the rest I screamed and squirmed around, I got good at pretense. I got good at figuring out what yanked my client's chain. I could shift from blatant slut to conservative young lady requiring a convoluted seduction in just seconds.

Like I said, lucky. I managed to get into the business circuit right off the bat, and with connections through Carl I didn't have to deal with ads and concerns of some of the dangers associated with the trade.

Of course there were a couple of incidents. One man put $200 in $20's in the envelope, but a phone call to Carl fixed that. Yes, it is true, I never counted the money, it was always there except for the one time.

Another time I arrived at a room, and I was inside before I realized there were two men instead of just one. That client was a referral from one of the other clients. I knew quickly that I could be in trouble, so when they demanded that I strip I did. When one held my hair, forcing my mouth onto him while the other rammed me from behind, I didn't resist.

There was no envelope, but I got out of there mostly unhurt. My phone call to Carl did no good, they were gone when the men he sent arrived. I don't know what happened to the man who had referred them, I never saw him again.

I became much more careful after that.

One day I arrived at our home after seeing a client, there was a white van parked in my driveway.

It was Connie, our home health nurse. We had an alarm set up that Dan could push if he needed help.

I rushed in, concerned, something had happened. Connie was looking at Dan's right leg, she looked up at me, giving me a disapproving glance up and down. I realized she saw my too short skirt, excess cleavage, and over-made up face and knew.

I am sure I blushed.

"What's wrong?"

"His toe and foot is infected."

"But...How?...He can't feel that."

"It appears that he can, he typed on the screen that it hurts."

Dan was transported to the hospital, treated and tested. Somehow sensation was returning to his legs. One of his toenails I had neglected to carefully trim had ingrown and became infected. Just luck that he was recovering sensation, noticed it. My life and what I was doing had been for him, yet became my life and what I was doing for me. I had missed all the signs.

Dan had finally touched the button to get outside help to deal with what was supposed to be my job.

I hadn't noticed, wrapped up in my world of sex and money. It was then that I knew that he knew, too.

I sat and cried for hours. After Dan was home I went several weeks without going out. I spent all my time caring for him, working with him. Then something else happened. I was cleaning him, changing his bottle. He developed a small erection, I took care of it with my hands, my mouth. I looked up, he had a tear in his eye.

Several days later, I spoke with Carl, explaining I was going to try and find work.

Carl asked me to work for him, my secretarial skills fit right in with his business.

"Plus I don't want to lose you." he added.

I knew what that meant, I knew my job would probably also include taking care of Carl, dealing with his needs.

Perhaps my own, of course.

The difference was obvious to me. I would be fucking one man I liked, for money. Or I could be fucking a solid string of men I didn't care about, for money. At least that was what it seemed to me it would be at the time.

I took the job. I was good at it, too, and for over two months Carl never asked, never suggested we have sex. Some days young women arrived and went into his office.

I just did my best to do my job, I did not miss sex much.

Plus Carl paid me very well, I became almost content. My own urges got pushed into the background since my mind was dealing with all of the new aspects of working at a full time job.

One day I was typing a series of reports on sales of one of Carl's product lines when he buzzed me. I grabbed my pad, preparing to take a letter.

"You won't need that." He said, as I stepped into his office.

"Oh....What?.."

Then I realized. I guess somewhere in my own fantasy world I had returned to being Dana, the conservative little housewife.

I set the pad down, took a deep breath. I let a smile cover my face, preparing for what I thought was next.

"Please sit down, I need to ask you something."

Confused, I sat down.

"I have three clients coming into town tonight, they will be here for a few days."

I did my best to not react.

"They are Japanese, and they requested personal entertainment?"

The last was a question, I knew what he wanted.

"They requested you."

"Sure." I managed to cover a sigh.

Carl nodded, said, "Thanks. I will make it worth your while."

I smiled and went back to my desk. The Japanese gentlemen would likely tip very well, I thought. I sat and thought about it, nothing different really. Nothing I hadn't already done. I knew I didn't want to, though. I wanted to be home with my man, living life as the sweet conservative housewife I was before. Yet already I could do the math, we were falling behind the bills again.

Time to go to work.

Yes, you can't know what this life is like unless you live it like me.

I put my head in my hands, but there were no tears. Those had left me long ago.

I am Dana, working girl. I took the step to this on my own, knowing even then there is no way back. Not really. I can hide, I can pretend. I could move, take my husband and try again in another city.

The next man I meet may remember me. There have been thousands, I have no place to go. The end result will be the same.

No matter what, I will always be what I am. I service men for money. If you hire me, you are no better than me. In fact, you are the same as me. I only allow you to feel that it's different.

So if you do, you are just a John.

Me?

I am just a working girl.

MGM