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It's Not Prostitution Ch. 01

By: Mute13



It's not prostitution, or at least that is what Trevor tells me. It's not sex in exchange for money, not exactly, because that would be illegal in L.A., but there's nothing illegal about a phone call is there? I would have actually wanted to ask Mr. Facelli about it, but he didn't seem much for small talk when we met, he was more about getting straight down to business the minute he got me alone in his car. He flashed the money the moment we were alone, like a good customer, though Trevor doesn't like any of us calling them that. He prefers us call them "friends" for I guess that's what they are for the time we have together. I didn't have time to count it, but I saw the stack of bills in the envelope, a bunch of 1s with a whole lot of 0s, and that was enough for me.

I almost laughed when I got the call from Mr. Facelli, his daughter Ally a classmate of mine at Deering High. I was a bit worried he might recognize me, but truth was I didn't really know what even he looked like, the few parties Ally had thrown kept secret from her parents at their beachhouse. I knew him by name though, Ally's father of course, and one of L.A.'s most well known criminal defense attorneys. He had developed some notoriety at my High School when he defended Brian Seslin, the supposed rapist and murderer of Lauren Green, the wife of one of our English Teachers. The case closed without a conviction, and that pissed Mr. Green off, obviously, but that wasn't why I was here. It wasn't my place to argue anyone's guilt or innocence. Mr. Facelli knew that, and well, again, I didn't have any time to really ask him anything before I found his cock stuffed in my mouth as he drove.

Trevor had given me the run down before I received the call. Mr. Facelli liked good girls, very good girls, and he enjoyed doing bad things to them. He needed a good actress, that is, after all, what Trevor told us we were, and I was the best of them, Trevor's favorite. I could act like I had never had sex before. I could act like it frightened me. I could act like Mr. Facelli's cock was way too much for me to take into my tiny mouth, which wasn't entirely acting, and what made me Trevor's most valuable asset, I would cry on queue, letting tears fall down my cheeks, down my lips, and over my "friend's" cock as he forced it over my tongue and down my throat.

It wasn't all acting, like I mentioned. My hands upon Mr. Facelli's stomach and thigh, pushing him away, and the fight I put up to lift my head from his crotch, that was really just a natural reaction when I found it hard to breathe. Gagging on his cock when he thrust the whole eight inches of it down my throat, bucking his hips up into my mouth, that again was reaction. My muffled screams as he forced me to suck him, that was the acting part. The tears, also fake. Pretending the whole of the night that I had no idea it was Mr. Facelli's intent to rape every entrance I had, that is why I was Trevor's favorite, his best. It took a great deal of control for girls like me to whimper all night in fear and pain like a pure, innocent schoolgirl, rather than moan like a slut.

It was only a ten minute drive from where we met to Mr. Facelli's beachhouse, nine and a half of which he kept me held down hard to his cock, instructing me as if I didn't know what to do, to kiss it, lick it, and take it all the way down my throat. As if it weren't forceful enough while he was driving, when he parked his Porche in his garage and no longer had to concentrate on driving he was able to focus solely on the game he played with my mouth, holding me down with the both of his hands and bucking his hips up even more powerfully so that the back of my head slammed against the underside of the steering wheel. I was a bit surprised it lasted as long as it did. Not many men had the ability to hold it in for ten minutes while I blew them, but Mr. Facelli kept it up for another three minutes or so before he gripped my hair even tighter in his fists, thrust his hips up until my lips tasted his balls, and exploded wave after wave of cum into my mouth. His near breathless words were like harsh demands, commanding me to take it all, his hands refusing to let me up until he felt my throat swallow three times, the only remnants of his semen coating my lips and making them glisten.

When at last I was able to rise, coughing and crying like the talented actress that I was, he gave me his one ultimatum before he exited his car.

"Not a single fucking word," Mr. Facelli demanded of me, and the way he said it... the look on his face when he said it... to be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

He opened my side door and drew me out by my wrist, leading me into his empty beachhouse, never turning on a single light.

I'm not sure why my body shuddered when the door locked shut behind me. I've been "raped" before. It's a more common fantasy than men will often admit to. Many of my customers, or "friends", have wanted me to play the victim, and it's a role I've gotten very good at. I've been raped before too, and as odd as it may sound, that night two years ago wasn't as scary as this single second when the door clicked shut. Maybe it was the sound of Mr. Facelli's voice in the car, maybe it was the look in his eye, or maybe it was because I was hopped up on coke that night with Trevor two years ago.

With most men, that can afford me anyway, that's all it is, a fantasy. They fantasize about being utterly dominant and violent because truthfully they're not. They'd never rape a young girl, and that's why they spend thousands of dollars to hire one who doesn't mind letting it happen, one who would never speak of the encounter. Some of them try talking dirty and I'm forced to do all that I can just to keep from laughing, to keep up the act that I'm frightened of them. Some of them try to get as rough as they can, thinking that if they bang me harder it will somehow make their four inches actually hurt. I let them believe it, but with some men it just isn't true. They pull my hair, they spank my ass, but they just don't have it in them to hurt anyone. A few times I've actually had to stop acting so well, sensing them about to break, reminding them that I was a hired slut and that they've paid for me for the night for, well, anything and everything. Wait, scratch that, I'm not supposed to mention that.

Suffice it to say, for some girl out there these kind of guys would be their knight in shining armor. Mr. Facelli for some reason didn't strike me as that.

I had met him once before, about two years ago at Ally's sweet sixteen party. He seemed like a good father, sparing not a single expense to give his daughter the perfect night. I was one of about 50 girls that night though, so I'm not sure why I was worried he would recognize me. Maybe, just maybe he might recognize my name, but that wouldn't really matter, since I don't use my real name for these encounters anyway. To my "friends" I'm merely Angel. I had seen him in passing too every now and then when I spent time with Ally, but it's not as though we were best friends or anything, so the encounters were sparce. All this wasn't to say however that he didn't have that grey shadow of mystery looming over him.

I remembered Kaisie McDermott's accusation two years ago that Mr. Facelli had raped her that night. I remember how she was so adamant about it, even though we all knew she was piss drunk that night, for about four days before she suddenly shut up about it and refused to ever speak of it again. I remember two months later when she found out she was pregnant. I remember how frantic she was, and I remember how all that drama seemed to end as soon as it had started when she somehow found the money to pay for her abortion without even telling her parents. I couldn't help but wonder if it all had been true, and just what I was getting myself into now.

Fuck it, I thought as Mr. Facelli led me deeper into his dark beachhouse. I may play the role of some innocent, naïve schoolgirl, but I'm tougher than that I told myself, banishing the worry from my head. What could he do that hasn't already been done anyway?

Mr. Facelli's beachhouse was, for all intents and purposes, my dreamhouse. Three stories of sheer glass walls, that sparkled silver in the daytime, and felt to glow even at night. The front door was less than ten feet from the warm sands of the Pacific Ocean. The windows of the master bedroom were just the perfect mix of protection and thrill. In the daytime the reflective glass shined far too brightly for any to see in, while letting those inside see out without trouble. At night, well when it was dark inside anyway, little could be seen from the beach, not without binoculars anyway. It was such a beautiful place. I had told Ally that I would give anything to be fucked in this very master bedroom.

Not that Mr. Facelli had any reason to contemplate this question, but if he ever was compelled to seek out the truth, he'd find that tonight wouldn't be the first time I've been on this bed, but rather the third.

For the brief moment that I could I glanced at a framed picture on the nightstand beside the bed. Mr. Facelli was in it, as was Ally. Mrs. Facelli too, looking the ever classy broad she always did, gowns, pearls, glitz, and glamor, and Brad as well. I tried not to grin at the thought. I wonder what Mr. Facelli would say if he knew. They were the All American Family, living the American Dream, or so the picture would lead one to believe. I knew more about their real family than perhaps even they did, most of them anyway.

It wasn't long before I found myself thrust up against the bedpost, pinned hard against it. Hot lips came to devour my neck and a strong hand slid up underneath my pink skirt, fingering me through my panties. Mr. Facelli apparently didn't cum hard enough in the car. I gasped and whimpered like the good girl that I was, sounding afraid.

"W... what are you doing, Mister?" I squeaked meekly as my body was fondled by his hands.

"Whatever the fuck I please," Mr. Facelli took just a second to respond before running his lips over my skin again. In most rape fantasies, the man tries to give off the impression that he doesn't care what the girl wants. In Mr. Facelli's case, I really don't think he did.

His hand gripped the back of my neck. My body was thrown down onto the bed. As I tried to rise I found his whole body straddling my lower back, keeping me down. I knew what was about to happen and so I began to flail on the bed frantically.

Or at least I thought I did.

Mr. Facelli grabbed my wrists, holding them together as I tried to pull away from his hold. He bound them with leather cuffs, even too tightly for my liking, almost cutting off the blood circulation to my hands. I cried out for him to stop, to let me go, but it was mere moments before my hands were bound securely to the bedframe.

I struggled and shook the bed. He grabbed my neck and really did cut off my windpipe for several seconds. I screamed out for help, not too loud to actually alert anyone, but loud enough to make it sound real. He stuffed my own panties in my mouth to shut me up. He put a black blindfold over my eyes to cover my tears, as though he didn't care, and then...

Mr. Facelli went to take a shower.

To be completely honest, this part kind of set me back. It's not what I was expecting to say the least, but I wasn't ever the one to make decisions in this sort of thing. It must have been fifteen minutes or so that he was gone, leaving me with little else to do... but think.

So I thought of some happy thoughts.

I thought about the first time I had been inside this beachhouse, one of Ally's crazy parties about two years ago. Jason Eversman, he was a senior at Deering then, had snuck me up to this very bedroom to fuck me. He had only spent about four minutes pounding my pussy before pulling out and straddling my chest. I remember it well because that was the exact moment when Ally and Pete Weston had pushed open the door, half naked and intent upon doing the same thing, only to see Jason spray his load all over my surprised face. I'm hardly shy or bashful, but in that kind of situation I think anyone would become speechless for a time. I hadn't known Ally all that well at the time, but she only laughed, and truth be told, it was a bonding experience.

Ally was a rich bitch, but she wasn't some cunt. She wasn't a priss who told us to get the fuck out. She just asked us to move over a bit. The four of us spent about the next two hours "bonding" with each other.

Peter fucked Ally on her back, and it wasn't long before Jason got worked up again enough to fuck me for a second time. After both boys came, we switched. Well Jason and Peter did. Ally and I weren't required to move. It took the boys about an hour and a half, and three or four sacks full of cum each, to finally drunkenly cheer for the two of us to fuck each other. Ally wasn't exactly the most gracious hostess, and hospitality wasn't her strong suit. She didn't really put her guest, me, first. She laid back and I was the one to go down on her. Peter came up behind me and his cock soon came to stir in my pussy again, while Jason tilted Ally's head off the very bed, fucking her mouth upside down while he played with her breasts.

I couldn't help but remember with a bit of a smile how much trouble Ally got into the week of our junior prom. When her father found out she had had sex with a 35 year old man he quite literally blew his top. The poor guy is now serving 25 years for statutory rape, prosecuted by Mr. Facelli himself, who would stand for nothing less than the maximum sentence. His argument was a "need for humanity to remember its morals and decency" though everyone knew it was to tell all of California not to fuck with him or especially his daughter. The guy defends rapists for Christ's sake, and Jesus if anyone knew what he was about to do this night.

I don't really have anything against hypocrites though. I'm not exactly the paragon of morality myself, after all.

My mind then wandered to Brad.

Brad Facelli. One of the stars of Deering's football team when I was only a freshman, and one fucking hottie to say the least. He was the second, or I suppose the third guy, to take me on this very bed. He was an arrogant asshole, that was for sure, and one rough fuck as I remember. Seems he takes a lot after his father. I wonder what his father would think if he knew his son had gotten to me before he had. His daughter too even...

I tried to hide a laugh at the thought that after tonight, Mrs. Facelli will be the only one in their immediate family that I haven't fucked.

Eventually I hear the shower shut off and the door opens and closes again. I hear Mr. Facelli walk back out into the bedroom, and I remember just where I am and who I am with. I curse myself for being so... unprofessional. I'm supposed to be an innocent virgin tonight, and I can already feel how slippery my thighs have gotten just thinking of all the times I've been fucked on this bed.

A hand falls upon my cheek. It slides out to grip the back of my neck, turning me the way it wants, controlling me. I've never actually been blindfolded before, and it is somewhat unnerving. I've never realized how disorienting, and truly frightening it can be when you're robbed of your ability to see. I'm sure that is what Mr. Facelli was hoping for. I guess he has no reason to know how good of an actress I am. I'm led to Mr. Facelli's cock again. I can tell just by the smell of it, and so I play my role as best I can.

"Please, Mister... I thought we were just going to..." I whimper softly before I find his cock shutting me up yet again, its full length seeking entrance into me.

He's oddly gentle with it, unlike in the car, using rather slow strokes as he fucks my mouth. His grip upon the back of my neck is still hard, but his rhythm is slow.

"I know what you thought, sweetie," Mr. Facelli says down to me. I pretend to gag a bit on his cock, trying to hide a laugh. That's what he always calls Ally. "But let me enlighten you and that tight little cunt of yours of how this is going to happen."

Again a shudder runs through my body at the way in which he says it.

"You get your 1,500 dollars, and I do whatever the fuck I desire to do," he lays out all too bluntly. "Is that fucking clear?" he rasps, and again my body shivers... Trevor would be pissed to know that Mr. Facelli referred to this as prostitution. It's kind of an unspoken rule with him. Who would have thought a coked out pimp, for all intents and purposes, would be so full of idealistic nonsense. By the way, don't tell him I just called Trevor a pimp, he'd kill me if he knew.

"I said is that fucking clear!?" Mr. Facelli demands, and his grip upon the back of my neck tightens to a degree I've never felt before. It actually makes me scream down the length of his cock, no acting, no games, his strong hand sending a sharp sting down my entire body, as though I had just been tazed or something. Reflexively I nod my head up and down as much as I can with his cock still stuffed in it. A tear actually falls down from under my blindfold, one I didn't tell to fucking fall.

"Good, now get it slick for me, sweetie," Mr. Facelli then says to me. I don't quite know how, but I can tell that he is smiling, grinning, smirking, and to be honest it kind of pisses me off. I can't exactly say why. I know I'm a slut. I know I came here to be used and abused. Truth be told I'm actually attracted to the arrogant asshole type, that's really the only kind of guy that has ever had me without paying, and yet in this moment it makes me mad. I try not to think about it though, doing what a good girl does and following directions. I'll be happy when this is over and Mr. Facelli is 1,500 dollars poorer.

"Mmm, you are one hungry little whore, aren't you?" Mr. Facelli laughs, still sliding slowly into and out of my mouth.

It doesn't fucking make sense. Trevor told me Mr. Facelli wanted a good girl, the rape fantasy, to dominate an innocent and naïve girl. Mr. Facelli had told Trevor exactly that... unless... I can't help but curse around Mr. Facelli's cock. Trevor fucked it all up.

I can read people, all too fucking well. I guess that's another reason why I'm so good at this. I can tell in Mr. Facelli's voice, truth is I could hear it all along, and I suppose now I know what made my body shiver so.

I know what he wants, and I know just how fucking stupid Trevor was.

Mr. Facelli wanted the rape fantasy, he had told Trevor as much before Trevor had given him my cell number. It was Trevor's stupid ass who told me to doll myself up in my good girl clothes, to play the coy little schoolgirl, thinking he knew it all and that all men wanted the same thing.

Well Mr. Facelli didn't want the rape fantasy. He didn't care if I was a schoolgirl or not. He didn't care if I was a paid whore or not. He didn't care if I was dolled up or jigging out. No, he didn't want a fantasy. He didn't want an actress, no matter how well they could play the part, no matter how realistic they could make their cries sound.

He just needed a girl.

"You seem scared," Mr. Facelli laughed as he fucked my mouth, and even without my eyes I could tell it was just some cruel joke. It was like he had been able to see through my act the entire time, knowing I wasn't some innocent, pure girl, but seeing me as the high priced slut that I was. Somehow he knew I had a strong will... I could somehow sense it... and that was why he was willing to pay so much for a night with me. This fucking asshole got his thrills out of breaking it.

"Fuck you!" I shouted on his cock, though whether he understood the words I can't be sure. Maybe he did because he began to laugh even louder, fucking my mouth a bit rougher with his cock. I actually felt my heart begin to race. Not out of excitement, and not out of fear... sadly not yet, but out of anger.


It's Not Prostitution Ch. 01



I don't know why. This is what I do, after all. But I was ready to throw the money back in Mr. Facelli's face, keeping half of it for the blowjob he'd already received, before telling him to go fuck himself. I could pretend to be afraid for a guy, I have been afraid before, but for some reason... Mr. Facelli wanting me to be afraid... riled something so furious within me. I looked up, blindfolded, to where I knew he was, and I told the asshole with my teeth around his fucking cock, that I might have been a whore, but I wasn't his fucking whore, not anymore.

That is when his fist stung my face and my dark world felt to spin uncontrollably. My head struck the metal bedframe, and the sound set my ears to ringing. I heard myself cry out, but even my own voice sounded oddly distant. I don't know how I forgot that my wrists were bound to the bedframe, but when I tried to pull away from Mr. Facelli they caught me and held me fast. My mouth finally freed from around his cock, I was ready to shout out something. What I would have said, I'm not sure, but it didn't matter anyway. His fist slammed down against my face again and my world went truly black.



It's Not Prostitution Ch. 02



It seems that what my mind couldn't figure out while I was conscious, my body did while I was unconscious. Mr. Facelli's hands holding my hips up into the air, his cock buried to its hilt up inside of my cunt, made me moan like a bitch in heat, like the little slut he knew me to be, the whore he had hired me to be. I woke to my own throat moaning deep passions as I was fucked roughly, my thighs dripping and the bed beneath me already coated in slick cum. I couldn't be entirely sure whose it was, but I had no reason to doubt that it wasn't my own, at least in part.

I could already feel that my vagina was sore and exhausted, both from his brutal thrusts and my own release. I know my body well enough to know I only get this way after multiple climaxes. Three I would guess, by the feel of it, and how many times Mr. Facelli came inside me, again I could only guess. At least once for I could feel a warmth that was not my own inside of me.

My first reaction was to simply continue moaning, allowing my body to be used like it has been so many times in the past, to do what made everyone in this world fall instantly in love with me, or at least males. But when I came to the realization of where I was, and just who was using me... my second reaction was to lash out, to twist my body around and seethe venomous words back at the snake who was fucking me.

My body was wrenched back however when I remembered I was still bound by my wrists to Mr. Facelli's bed.

"Mmm, good morning, sweetie," Mr. Facelli smirked, making his thrusts even more violent as my consciousness roused. He bent his body over me and kissed me on my lips, as though I were his wife, knowing it would set me over the edge.

"Fuck you!" I shouted at him, pulling away from his lips, unable to get far under the hold of the bindings and his strong hands. His only response was an even deeper thrust of his cock which forced me hard up onto the bed, my face slamming against the metal bedframe and pinning me too it while he refused to pull out again.

"Listen, you little slut," Mr. Facelli rasped into my ear, his tongue tasting my skin as he did so. "We both know you're not worth the paper this money is printed on," he sounded amused as he spoke. Why wouldn't the arrogant asshole. "A body for hire, controlled by a drugged out pimp. This world wouldn't care for a second if you were to suddenly disappear from it."

Mr. Facelli gave me another fast and powerful thrust of his cock up my cunt, causing it to quiver beyond even my own control.

"You've got three worthwhile assets," he continued, running a finger over my lips as he humped me more vigorously, forcing me to open my mouth and pant like a bitch. I wanted to scream, but I just knew that is what he wanted from me, and damn myself if I gave him the fucking pleasure. His other hand slid down between my legs, stroking my clit as he fucked me, pointing out the second of my three assets. I wanted to cry, but I held back as best I could, refusing to give Mr. Facelli the satisfaction.

The one thing I didn't want to do was cum... but he rubbed my clit so hard, and he fucked me even harder that my body decided things on its own, without need of my consent. A wave of my own warmth rushed out down Mr. Facelli's cock, drenching it and the bedsheets further. A scream escaped my lips as my body shuddered, and when it was done I slumped down onto the bed in tears.

Mr. Facelli wanted me to know that he was in charge and that I was powerless. And for the fucking life of me I didn't know any way to fight it. I simply wasn't in any position to win... and yet Mr. Facelli was not finished.

"So why don't you put them to good use if you want to earn your pay, hmm?" Mr. Facelli laughed even more harshly, thrilled by the thought of degrading me and by the sight of me laying helplessly beneath him. He pulled my asscheeks apart as he slid his still hard cock out from my quivering cunt. I twisted back at him to scream, but nothing came out in that moment. I would have slapped him across his face, digging my nails into his cheek had it been any other situation... but still my wrists were bound, and he had no care for what I had to say anyway. I knew where he was headed, and though I was no virgin in this respect, I also knew Mr. Facelli yearned for me to truly scream...

He knew as well as I that he knew just how he could get me to.

He was slick with my fresh cum coating his thick cock... but God he was so fucking fast with it, and merciless, that I could not help but scream in the most sudden and sharp pains I ever had in my life. He thrust his entire length up my ass, rock hard after who knows how long of fucking my pussy, intent upon tearing me apart from the inside out. I knew I was disposable to him, he made no attempt to hide that fact, like I was a napkin or a paper towel.

So what else could I do but scream and cry... just as I loathed... just as he loved...

For fifteen minutes he raped me. For fifteen minutes he degraded me, using every word that he could to convince me I was nothing more than a means to his end. Every time he commanded me to scream I wanted to bite my lip and tell him to go fuck himself, but every single time he had a way to get me to fail. Every time he demanded that I cry I tried to hold back my tears, but the truth was they never ceased falling. Fifteen fucking minutes before Mr. Facelli finally exploded inside of me in the most intense and brutal wave of cum I've ever been filled with. He collapsed on top of me, his cock still shoved inside of my ass, his weight nearly crushing me beneath him.

God, I could only wish in that moment that it was over.

He laid on top of me and kissed me then for several moment, refusing to pull out until his cock slipped out naturally, having fallen flaccid. He kissed my shoulder, he kissed my neck, and he kissed my lips, gripping my hair tightly as he did and holding it threateningly. I had no fight in me... I let him kiss me, I let him pierce me with his tongue, exploring me so deeply again and refusing to pull away for so long I was forced again to swallow his juices. After a few more minutes though it was done. He lifted himself off of me and he sat himself upon the side of the bed, taking the envelope of money off the nightstand and placing it next to my bound hands.

"Say a fucking word of this and I will have no problem seeing to the end of every last thing that you know," Mr. Facelli smiled down at me, in that nerve grating, arrogant way, so assured of remaining forever innocent. I have no doubt that he could see the sheer fury that suffused my face. "But we both know you don't want to throw away your success as a high class whore," he grinned still, patting my cheek. "Who would throw away this life of thousand dollar nights, isn't that right?"

He wasn't nearly finished.

"And I'm sure you wouldn't want to see all the other girls in your little brothel locked away for prostitution, right, Angel?" he asked me. I wanted to spit in his face. "And of course there's Trevor McDermott, age 28, released from Weston Juvenile Penitentiary June 1999, incarcerated in Landsfall Penitentiary from 2001 to 2003 for drug possession and distribution. He failed his court order rehabilitation program in late 2003, returning him to Landsfall for another 8 month stint. Currently on probation under the watch of Mr. Jason Sabian, who is a dear friend of mine, who owes me quite a few favors now that I think about it."

This fucker had done his homework... it almost made me shiver to wonder if he knew my real name... where I went to school... who I knew.

"Would be a terrible tragedy if Trevor had to go back, wouldn't it, Angel?" Mr. Facelli goaded me to even try speaking a word of this to anybody... "Another count of drug possession, and promoting prostitution on top of that," he shook his head as though remorseful. "Whoever prosecuted him might just seek the maximum sentence, seeing how many strikes he has under his belt."

Mr. Facelli leaned over to kiss me again.

"Now I know he's your pimp, I know he's your source for all the naughty substances you do, and I am well aware that you are quite taken with him, Celina," Mr. Facelli went on, causing me to nearly break down in front of him. "But," he soothed me, stroking my cheek. "We can avoid all of this, can't we? Because there's no reason we cannot be amiable business partners, right?"

He knew my name, he knew my life, he knew everything. Frozen in shock I couldn't help but lay there motionlessly, without a single sound as this horrible excuse for a man stroked my cheek like a father.

"Is that right?" he repeated, harsher now, gripping the back of my neck again.

I nodded with as much conviction as I could muster, hiding my tears into the pillow of his bed.

"Good," Mr. Facelli smiled, kneeling back up onto the bed, his cock having grown semi-erect again. "Now why don't we seal our little agreement with a kiss," he ordered me, pulling my head forward again by the back of my neck. I could already smell... I can't even speak it, but I know where he had just been. Mr. Facelli loomed like a demon over me though... and truth be told, I was more frightened not to...

I kissed the head of his cock to seal our agreement... and he forced the length of it back into my mouth.

I groaned in disgust, and tried to pull my head away. When Mr. Facelli undid my wrists I tried to push him from off of me, but I could tell that he only enjoyed the fight, a pointless fight I might add, for he was far stronger than me. He came quickly, his cock exhausted after the hours and hours he had already spent ravaging me, and I spit the horrid taste out onto his pillow.

He paid me my money. He showed me out of his beachhouse. He kept my panties, and he locked the door behind me.



It's Not Prostitution Ch. 03



Trevor's place was over an hour's walk from Mr. Facelli's. At 3 in the morning the dark streets of Los Angeles are not a place one wants to be walking alone, especially an 18 year old girl dressed in a tight tank top, a short skirt, without even a pair of panties to protect her. I'm used to stares during the daytime, but at night they don't seem the same, more like predatory leers, claws ready to pounce and fangs ready to sink their teeth into me.

I had attempted to make myself look more composed before heading too far away from the beach, but Mr. Facelli hadn't even bothered to strip me of my shirt and skirt as he fucked me, and splotches of his cumstains still covered my clothing from neck to thigh. To me the smell was ever-present, as though his cock were still rubbing up against my cheek, just under my nose. I could only hope that nobody else could smell, and so I kept my distance from the few that I passed as I walked.

It had not even been 15 minutes before three guys made their intentions known, whistling at me as I passed, and fanning themselves out wide so that I couldn't. I attempted to slide to the other side of the street, but there was already one to block my path. I couldn't turn back without meeting the one who slid in behind me, and of course I couldn't move forward for that was the first route they blocked off. My only option away was to the right, where the wall of, what I assumed was their rundown apartment building, cut me off.

Some men could be reasoned with. Some men could be threatened. You could see it in their eyes the moment you met them. Every man wanted sex, that went without question, and with a fit, green eyed, 18 year old with long, straight blonde hair, well... not to sound arrogant myself, but I've been told many times by guys that I'm the most fuckable little thing they've ever seen. With some men you could convince them that they weren't the type of man that would take advantage of a girl, that what they were intending to do they didn't truly want to. With some men you could go so far as to tell them this would be the last act of their former life, those with wives, families, careers, those with far too much at stake to throw away on one single fuck, regardless of how hot, tight, and amazing it would be.

Some men, however, just didn't care. Some men were too high off their heads to consider the consequences. Some men were just too hard in their pants to think of anything else.

One could spot these types of men too upon the minute of their meeting... These men reminded me too much of Trevor.

"Evening there, sweet thing," one of the three spoke, approaching me and caging me in further against the wall.

"Damn, Dirk, she ain't even wearing any panties," another said excitedly, having already crept up to my side and slid down my thigh to sneak a peek up my skirt. I promptly shoved his head away with my hand, moving away from him as swiftly as I could, only to find myself wrapped in the arms of one of his friends.

"Bet she was hoping to get a bit of hard cock in her tonight, isn't that right, babe?" the third one laughed, holding me tighter in his arms as I tried to squirm away, reaching up to cup my breasts in his hands as the other two continued in closer.

My first reaction should have been to scream. It should have been to fight back, or something. Sadly, my first reaction was to protect my purse, to keep it sealed, and keep the envelope Mr. Facelli had given me secret. I fucking earned this, after all, and I'll be damned if I let these lowlifes know of it. Maybe I don't exactly have my priorities straight. Don't get me wrong, I'm not thrilled by the notion of letting them have my body, but the one thing I do know is they are not getting my fucking money.

I clutch my purse to my stomach as the one who holds me continues to fondle my chest. I go with them more willingly than I know I should into the dark alley beside the apartment building. Sometimes there are just no ideal solutions to situations. I know I'm going to be fucked one way or another. All I can do is protect what is most precious to me in the meantime.

The two guys in front of me undo their pants and pull out their cocks in the dark alley. The guy behind me I can feel do the same, and it slides up between my thighs from behind me, underneath my skirt. I'm lowered down onto my knees. I can feel myself being bent over onto my hands, and still I refuse to release my death grip over my purse. One cock slides up further between my legs, its head positioned at my wet opening, still seeping with all that Mr. Facelli left within me, while another slides out over my lips, a hand under my jaw coaxing me to open my mouth...

My lips had just begun to part, the head of one of their cocks sliding out over my tongue... when the sudden blare of a siren sounds and a police cruiser pulls to a stop right outside of the alley.

Their backs to the cop car, their cocks to me, all three of the guys tuck themselves back into their pants, cursing the fucking timing. Most girls would be relieved at the sight and the sound. I was... sort of... but I couldn't help but feel a bit of reserve nonetheless. I have always hated the police. It didn't help that I carried 1,500 dollars in my purse. The last thing I needed was for the cops to ask me where I had gotten ahold of such money.

"What is going on here fellows?" one of the two police officers asked as they stepped out of their squad car.

"Nothing, Officer, just helping someone with directions," one of the guys blurted out, thinking he had some quick wit or something, turning to face them only after his cock had been stowed away again.

I did what I was best at there on my knees in the dark alleyway. I acted, turning on the flood of tears. The more a girl cried, the less she had to speak. It worked wonders with men. I was hoping the cops would deal with these three pricks and maybe I could work my way out of the whole situation under the pretense of needing to get home.

Some days I just couldn't catch a break though it seemed.

One of the officers ushered me into the backseat of his cruiser. I wasn't the wrongdoer by any means, but it was hardly a comfortable place for me to be. After what I assumed was a warning the other officer let the three guys go, returning to his squad car to pull away, one of them in the front driver's seat, the other seated beside me in the back...

"So what is a girl like you doing out so late in the middle of the city?" the police officer next to me began his interrogation. I don't know why, but I suddenly became filled with an unnerving feeling that it was never those three men these two cops sought justice for. Reflexively, I held my purse tighter to my chest, covering some of the stains on my shirt.

His arm slid around my shoulder in some mock attempt to comfort me. He pulled me closer.

"What is your name, sweetie?" the officer beside me asked when I remained silent, placing a hand on my thigh. Still I said nothing, pretending I was too shaken up to even speak. I took his hand with my own and I attempted to move it from off my leg... sadly to no avail.

"Not often you find girls alone on the street this late at night," the cop who was driving then spoke. "Unless they're hookers," he made sure to add with a small laugh.

So this was their plan from the very beginning... the good cop, bad cop routine.

"Chuck, don't be so callous," the one beside me returned, sliding his hand around my thigh, up my leg until he suddenly stopped. Fuck! I could not help but think to myself.

His fingers not more than an inch from my uncovered pussy, the cop found his hand covered with slick cum which he massaged into my thigh softly, a smirk upon his face which was already assured of its victory. He swirled his fingers over my thigh, feeling my slick skin, and then lifted a finger to his own lips to suck it off, never taking his eyes off of me.

If only the corrupt fucker knew he was sucking Mr. Facelli's cum from off his finger, not mine.

"Adorable girl like you, you wouldn't be in the business of selling sex for money, now would you?" the cop beside me grinned, hugging me closer to his body with his arm around my shoulder. I froze like a deer in headlights. I so willingly got into the car, thinking my role as the victim was watertight. I felt now to have walked straight into the belly of the beast.

"You've got to have a name," he continued to smile that irritating smile. I kept up my act of being victimized until I felt him reaching for my purse, trying to take it from my chest. "I'm sure there's a license or something in there," he went on, forcing me at last to give in to protect the contents of my purse.

"Angel," I told him through my fake tears what he wanted to know, or what he thought he wanted to know. "My name is Angel," I went on, stepping up my act to the next level, knowing there was only one way I was going to get out of this squad car with my innocence and money in tact. What did it matter anyway, my purity had left me long ago.

"Mmm, what a beautiful name, Angel," the cop purred into my neck a little bit.

I laid it on thick. Normally I would have gotten paid thousands for an act as good as this...

"I... I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up just then..." I whispered out nervously, making my body shake and shiver a bit in the police officer's arms. "Thank you both so much... I was so afraid..."

"Don't you worry, Angel, you are completely safe now," the officer grinned, holding me tighter... holding me closer... rubbing my inner thigh even more.

"I don't know how to repay you for everything, officer..." I gave to him exactly what he wanted to hear, and I watched as his lips curved into an even more excited grin. A real fucking police officer would have said it was his fucking duty, and there was no need to repay him for doing his job. But this was L.A.. It was 3 o'clock in the morning, and I was a sexy, young girl alone in their squad car.

"I would do anything..." I sealed my fate this night. It was just a matter of time before they made their true intentions known.

"You know, it's dangerous out so late on your own, Angel. Wouldn't your boyfriend be worried about you?" the officer asked, seemingly trying to be subtle and failing miserably. I returned a coy silence, averting my eyes from him a tiny bit.

"A cutie like you, you must have a boyfriend, right?" he grinned, and I made my face blush a bit in a way I knew would get his imagination racing twice as fast.

"I don't know," I whispered meekly, sadly, faking another tear down my cheek.

"What do you mean you don't know?" the officer asked, rubbing my shoulder a bit, drawing my body in closer to him.

"I don't think he wants to be with me anymore..." I cried softly, creating a whole story out of thin air, one I knew would draw the cop's attention away from my purse for good and to my chest and between my legs.

"Now why would any boy not want to have a sexy, young girl like you for a girlfriend, Angel?" he returned, stroking my thigh up even higher, lifting my skirt until it barely even covered my pussy.

I let loose a flood of tears in that moment. I needed it to be believable, after all, why a good girl would tell a complete stranger such details. When else would be better than when she's overcome with emotions she cannot deal with?

"He used to be really sweet, but lately he's only wanted me to do... ya know... stuff," I cried, leaning in a bit to the police officer's chest, letting him hold me like he was my savior, letting him believe that he was, never admitting that I knew he was already working his cock slowly into me. "He said he wanted to hang out with me tonight, but when I got there he only wanted to... do other stuff," I carefully avoided giving voice to the details yet. I may have been wrong at reading Mr. Facelli at first, but I was pretty sure this is what these two cops got off at.

"Stuff?" the police officer asked. He, I might point out, was a horrible actor. "What kind of stuff?"

"You know..." I blushed deeper. "Stuff," I still played coy. He already had a tent in his pants, and each time we went back and forth in this game it only grew bigger. With any luck, if I tease him in just the right way, he might even blow his load in his pants the moment he gets me to say it.

"I think you should tell me what kind of stuff," he said again. God, he was so horrible at this.

"Like... you know... he wanted to do stuff with me... he wanted me to kiss him places..." I offered him a little bit more, watching his pants grow even tighter around his bulging erection. I could already tell in his eyes he was fantasizing about doing that very stuff with me, thinking about my lips kissing him in those very places.

"Mmm, what kinds of places?" the officer asked me, smelling my neck.

"Ya know, the lips..." I blushed even deeper.

"Isn't that where girlfriends usually kiss their boyfriends?" he grinned, still not satisfied.

"And other places..." I whispered, letting my unease show forth more prominently.

"Mmm, tell me," he rasped into my ear. I could tell in his mind he was already doing whatever he wanted with my body. I could tell he was at the brink of even his own imagination. I gave in to him, or so he thought, hoping he just might blow it right there.

"On..." I blushed, whispering ever so softly. "On his penis..."

I felt the officer's body shudder a bit in that very moment. I snuck a peek down at his crotch, his gaze lost in my neck and hair anyway. I saw a wet spot form on his pants, proof enough that he had jizzed at least somewhat. His interest in me didn't seem to fade much however.

"Not many guys would be satisfied with just a kiss there, I would imagine," the police officer teased me. "I mean if I had such a beautiful girlfriend, I know I wouldn't be," he attempted to tease, and I catered to his ego by giggling a little bit, letting my tears cease for a moment. "What else did he want you to do to him there?"

"He wanted me to..." I stammered a bit, gasping when the officer dared to kiss me on my neck. "He wanted me to suck him..." I admitted the details of my made up story, causing the officer's body to shudder a tiny bit again.

The game was over. Or at least this officer couldn't keep up the charade anymore.

"He wanted you to suck his cock?" the officer said, not really a question, moreso just to get me to repeat it.

"Yes..." I returned coyly, giving him what he truly desired. He may have thought he wanted me to say it, but what he really wanted was for him to get me to say it.

"Yes, what, Angel?" he said more forcefully, beginning to force his body onto mine.

"Yes, he wanted me to..." I played coy yet again to get his cock to rage even harder in his pants.

"He wanted you to what?" the officer's voice seemed to evolve so suddenly into a demand, his patience running thin and cock just needing to get the attention it had been craving from me all night.

"He wanted me to suck his cock," I said then softly without reserve, moaning as he kissed my neck again, letting him believe his stupid little fantasy that I was ignorant to his intent, that I was really just so taken by his chivalry that I had fallen in love with him then and there, ready to let him do whatever he pleased with my body. Well, I suppose that last part was true.

"The work we do goes so unappreciated sometimes, Angel. It's nice to find someone truly willing to do anything," he grinned again, licking my neck. I forced myself to purr. His cock was so hard within his pants and his eyes were so focused on me that he had all but forgotten about my purse.

"Are you still willing to do anything?" he asked, and I made my body freeze like a good, pure girl, terrified of sex. We both knew that is what he wanted.

Eventually I came to nod, however. The sweet and innocent girl was nothing, after all, without the willingness to put out.

He wasted no more time before he pulled his cock from his pants, so thrilled already it leaked a trail of precum that stuck to his pants in a thick line. He guided my head down into his lap, and between his heavy hand on my neck, his upward thrusts of his hips, and my purposely amateur sucking, his cock began to pulse uncontrollably within seconds.

I almost thought it would be over then and there. He pulled my head from off of him in a frantic haste, but I attempted to linger there a second longer, to draw him into a full orgasm. Sadly he pulled out at just the right moment. A tiny spurt of cum shot from his cock, but he was able to keep it to that. This was a once in a lifetime chance perhaps, and he didn't want to ruin it so fully so quickly. I suppose it didn't matter really as he grabbed my hips and pulled them towards him, spreading my legs around his waist. He was at the brink and there was no turning back. He wouldn't last much longer.

My head hit the side door uncomfortably as I was pulled onto my back. My legs were spread wide, and I dangled my left over the seat in front of me, letting it hang in the driver's face. There was no doubt in my mind this had been a team effort from the get go. They both played their part to get me in here, and they would both take their turns while I was in here. I might as well get the other officer worked up so that he does his work swiftly as well, and I knew just how to do it.

To be honest, I'm rather quiet during sex, or at least that's how I am naturally. Trevor always laughed at me about it. He never put it in quite so crude words, but I always knew what he meant. He found it ironic for a slut to not be a screamer.

I could scream though, I'm an actress, after all. And what better way to make sure the second officer was ready to blow his load in his pants than by...

"Oh fuck..." I moaned the moment the cop shoved his cock up inside of me. "Oh God, fuck!" I screamed as he plunged in and out of me. "Oh God, it's so big!" I cried, I whimpered, I whined, and I begged, panting heavily every last sound of sex so that the cop in front of us knew without a doubt my sexy, young body, and tight little cunt were getting fucked, and fucked hard.

"Oh yeah, baby, you like that? You like that hard cock?" the officer grunted as he pounded me. I had to disguise a tiny laugh as a delirious whimper. Some people just weren't meant for talking dirty. Taken over by the feel of sex they simply lose their ability to come across as anything but ridiculous. He was overcome by the feeling, and far too anxious to get off now to do anything but.

Don't worry though, I thought to myself. Leave it all to me, this is what I do, after all.

"Ugh," I groaned as he thrust himself up hard inside of me again. "It hurts..." I whimpered coyly, feeling his cock pulse inside of me as I did. I never really got why guys got off so much on hurting girls. I know they want to believe their cock is so big our pussies just can't handle them, and he was big, not the biggest I've had, but pretty decently sized.

He was close. I could tell by the way he vigorously pumped his cock in and out of me more anxiously. I could tell by the way his body began to spasm. A few more whimpered words of ecstasy, a few more muffled moans of pain, a few more dirty words a good girl shouldn't say and he'd be fully spent. No point in keeping either of us waiting I figured.

"Oh baby, please..." I whimpered. "Your cock is too big..." I grimaced as I gasped. Already thick, hot waves of sticky cum surged out from his shaft, deep into my soaking cunt before I could even finish my act.

"Fuck me, officer!"

The squad car screeched to a halt on the side of the road before the cop's cock had even stopped pulsing inside of me. His partner got out from the driver's seat and opened the back seat door, looking down on us impatiently as his fellow officer pulled out of me, slid his pants back up and tucked himself away. The first officer exited the back seat, leaving me just as I was. I didn't even bother moving. What was the point, after all? I laid there on the back seat of their cruiser, half leaning against the far door, legs spread wide, my knee propped over the seat in front of me and my ankle dangling over the driver's seat.




It's Not Prostitution Ch. 03



The second officer slid into the back seat, sealing the door shut behind him. The first officer took his place in the driver's seat. The squad car began down the night road again and before the police cruiser had even hit 40 miles per hour, I was already being fucked again at what felt like 50.

If I thought the first officer had had a lot of pent up lust by the time his cock at last penetrated me, it was little compared to the second. He had just watched and listened to his partner fuck an adorable, young girl, listened to her cry and moan, forced to wait until the first had had his fill. This second officer didn't even spare a greeting before he dug his thick cock deep inside my cunt.

My first cry wasn't even acting. It's not that he was any bigger than any other man I had fucked tonight, or rather, any man that had fucked me tonight I should say, but the sheer speed with which he plunged into me opened me up way too fast. His cock was buried up to his balls in my pussy in the moment of our meeting, and it forced me to cry out before I even realized I had. He was so forceful... so anxious in his thrusts from the get go I had to place my hands on his hips and stomach, holding him away with all of my strength, an act that only made him thrust inside of me harder.

"So where can we drop you, Angel?" the first officer asked, laughing softly as he drove, though his load had been spent, entertained still by my continued screams.

"Fuuck..." I moaned. "Oh God, fuck!!" I screamed as my body shuddered before I realized it, creaming this second officer's cock and coating it in cum. "At..." I gasped, biting my lip, whimpering as a second wave of ecstasy shook my body and covered the officer again.

I've rarely known a man that could keep a reasonable mind mid-fuck, but for me it was not usually recreation. Though only 18 years old, I was a professional and this was my business. I could beg for a hard cock, but most of the time it was only an act. Trevor was the only person in a long time that had ever heard those words truthfully. Like any businesswoman I kept my mind on the money, ready to end a night on the spot if the monetary reimbursement for my services were not satisfactory. Even for me though, even in this moment, shivering as I came in waves down this officer's cock, I found it difficult to think of a suitable answer.

I couldn't have him drop me off at Trevor's door. If I even mentioned the South Walk all the suspicion I evaded by fucking both of these officers might all come rushing back in. Not to mention Trevor would blow an artery or something before blowing a load on me if I led two cops straight to his doorstep, and I've spent more of this day with a cock in me than not to want to deal with anything more this night than taking a long shower and going straight to bed. I didn't want to walk another hour and start this whole fiasco over again either, and so I tried to think of a suitable response as my pussy quivered around an officer's thick dick. I gasped and I moaned, again not really acting, as I bought myself more time to think.

"At the... fuck..." I whimpered, glad, at least for the moment that the officer on top of me hadn't spent himself yet. "At the... oh fucking God, baby!!" I screamed, being filled yet again with every inch of his manhood. "The west..." I moaned, struggling even to speak, feeling the officer's hand tighten on my waist so much it hurt. His body began to shudder as well. His back arched and tightened as his hands gripped my thin waist in what felt to be a vice. He ejaculated what felt to be a whole pint of cum inside my pussy, and let it gush out down my thighs onto the backseat of his cruiser as he collapsed down on top of me, thoroughly spent. His breaths were just as hard as mine, his body just as sweaty, his form just as exhausted. I could have fallen asleep right then and there, clutching my purse to my chest, and I almost feared I would, my eyes falling shut as I whispered.

"The western promenade..."



It's Not Prostitution Ch. 04



The police officers dropped me off at the Western Promenade. It was a good place to part ways. It was far enough from the South Walk so that they'd have no reason to ask why I was going there, yet close enough so that I wouldn't have to spend the rest of the night traveling on foot. It was close enough as well to condominiums like the Escalades, places that were all prim and proper, that aided to quell suspicions. That and it was a public place, one where I could hide in the midst of the people, even if it was a late hour, it was never completely empty. It allowed me to slip away relatively easily, one last caress of my pantyless ass from the one officer, and a slip of paper from the other.

I thanked the both of them for all of their help, using all of my skill at acting to hide my sarcasm, and turned to the north towards the Escalades. I waited until their squad car pulled away and turned a corner before I turned back towards the south... towards Trevor's.

The first officer, the first one to fuck me and the one to hand me a folded piece of paper as I left, had told me to call him anytime I was in need. I would have laughed if I weren't in such a pissy mood at the moment. He might as well have been honest after all that we had been though. Call him if I wanted to let him stuff his cock inside of me again is what he should have said. I unfolded the paper to see a telephone number and a name, just as I had expected. Richard Langsten, I did laugh that time.

Somehow I knew he was a Dick.

Crumpling the piece of paper into a tiny ball I tossed it onto the ground at my feet. Within three steps I had already turned back to scoop it up off the ground. I smoothed it out and I folded it neatly again. I opened my purse and tucked it into one of the inner pockets, zipping it up tight.

You never know...

Seven annoyingly long blocks and I found my way to South Walk, straight to Trevor's door.

It was as run down as a place can get without caving in on itself, in what is arguably the shittiest part of Los Angeles. Trevor has promised me more, and with all the money I've already made for him one would expect it to come soon, though nevertheless, this is where we dwell. Besides this whole neighborhood being a shithole, it is also the most densely populated part of the California. Filled with little more than crime, drugs, poverty, sex and violence, it nonetheless has attracted hundreds of thousands. I guess that says something about human nature, doesn't it.

There are crowds of men hanging outside of Trevor's place, just like there are every night, broke guys just looking for a quick tease, hungry to watch a sexy girl walk by. Clay is here again, as he is almost every night. He works at the corner gas station at nights, and usually after work he hangs out here for a bit, hoping to get lucky. We tease him that he's in love with one of the girls here. I wouldn't be surprised honestly if it was me.

He's cute in his own way, that way being penniless with no ambition, but he's pretty well built with a charming smile. It's kind of ironic how if he had more money, I'd probably fuck him for free.

He smiles at me as I approach the entrance to Trevor's place, and I flash him a smile back. I don't know why but Clay has a way of making me do that, even when I'm in one of my worst moods. It may be because of my makeup, or the slutty clothes I'm wearing, but he genuinely makes me feel special I suppose. It is easy for me to make men hard. It is easy for me to make them want to screw me. I haven't really gotten the hang of making them adore me though, and it's probably because I have a bad attitude more often than not, but that doesn't stop Clay from doing it. Bless his worthless heart.

"Hey, Angel," Clay smiles at me, even after almost six months of knowing each other, he still blushes when he says it. "How ya doing, Cutie?"

"Still trying to sweet talk me?" I tease him, making my way through the whistling men to show my favorite one a little personal attention.

"You deserve a little sweet talkin'," Clay returns, trying to cover up his embarrassment in an even more charming smile. If he only knew it was his nervousness that made him so cute to me. "Because, ya know, you're so... sweet," he fumbles with his words.

"Sweet?" I laugh, a bit uplifted by his words, knowing he truly means them, and at the same time dejected, knowing that sadly he doesn't know any better. If only he knew me better. I slide up to him a bit more, wanting to be next to him and he alone.

"Hey, what's the matter, Angel?" Clay asks, sensing I'm not my usual perky self, or at least seeing through the act I usually try to pull off when I'm around so many boys.

I shake my head, to let him know that nothing is wrong. I usually have more willpower than this, but in the next moment I lean into him and I rest my head on his chest, whispering softly into him so that only he can hear.

"If only you could afford me," I sigh, half of me despising the thought of having sex again this night, while the other half yearning to really make love.

A bit unexpectedly Clay delves his hand into his back pocket, anxiously pulling out his wallet. He opens it up and searches through it, counting what little bit he does have.

"Umm..." he blushes sheepishly, pulling out a ten and a couple ones. He holds 17 dollars up in front of me, and already he knows it's not even worth trying. "Was worth a shot at least," he laughs a bit dejectedly. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

I don't know whether it's a generous thought or a wicked one, but I get one in my head. I look up at Clay and smile, one of those smiles that gets a man instantly hard. He looks down at me confused, and that confusion only grows as I slide my hand down his chest to his crotch in front of all the other men gathered. I begin to rub him slowly, and he gets the look on his face like he's the luckiest man in the world...

It's been forever since I've seen that look on a guy's face...

I rub him through his pants for several moments, making sure he's stiff as a board, before I drop down onto my knees in front of him. There are already hoots and cheers from everyone around us as I unzip Clay's jeans and pull his cock out, stroking his bare skin with my own. A mere five strokes of his shaft already has his head oozing a touch of precum. I lift his cock straight up so that it's almost touching his belly, and I lean in to lick it slowly and sexily, taking almost ten whole seconds to taste each of the seven inches from base to tip, making his whole body shiver with the feel of my soft tongue alone. He gifts me with a tiny drop on my tongue when I finally reach the tip of his cock, and I slide my tongue back into my mouth, tasting his cum. The cheering grows even more intense, and Clay's cock pulses harder in my hand. I can feel how he wants to grab my hair and force me down on him, but respectfully he doesn't. I'm Trevor's girl, and all of the guys here know how to behave, and more importantly, what will happen if they don't.

"Oh fuck, Angel," Clay gasps as the tip of my tongue moves away from his cock. "Fuck baby... suck it..." he moans, already breathing heavy.

He wants it so badly. I can tell by the look in his eyes and the stiffness of his cock. To be honest, I would love to do what he asks, but first and foremost this is a business that Trevor runs, and though these men are too broke to be clients, we have a reputation in this neighborhood to uphold. Clay has 17 dollars, so sadly that is all he can afford.

I give Clay one last sensual kiss on the head of his cock, letting his cum glisten on my lips, before I stand up and take the money from his hand. Rock hard and unfulfilled, he nonetheless seems happy, smiling like he were the king of this block. The other guys shout their disapproval, many of them searching their own wallets for spare change, but I ignore them all. I offer Clay a soft kiss on his cheek, this time for free, and I make my way into Trevor's home, locking the door behind me.

A thick cloud hits me the moment I enter, cigarette smoke, pot smoke, and I don't even want to know what else. The music is blaring so loud I can't even hear myself think, and what do you know, Ali and Kurt are fucking like rabbits on the couch in the living room.

"Cee!!" Abbie yells my name over the music as I enter, rushing up to me to give me a hug. This is the one place we're allowed to call each other by our real names. She kisses me on my cheek, and I can smell the smoke in her mouth, but it doesn't matter. She's so fucking hot prancing around shamelessly in just her blue bra and a miniskirt.

"Holy fuck!" Abbie gasps after she kisses me, grabbing my head and wrenching it to one side, leaning in closer to inspect me.

"Ow! Abbie, what are you doing!?" I moan, but she doesn't relent, holding my head steady as she studies me.

"Who the fuck did this!?" she nearly screams, looking angry as she looks at me. Oh shit... I think. "I'll fucking kill him!" she declares, still holding my head to the side. "Does it hurt?" she asks with worry, sticking her finger into what I figure must be the developing bruise on my right temple.

"OW!!" I yell. "It does when you do that!!" I tell her as I punch her and force her away from me. At that Abbie giggles, but her delight in my return still doesn't change the fact that she's mad.

"So who the fuck did it?" she demands, but I just sigh and shake my head.

"Forget about it, okay? It's over and done with," I try to assure her, wanting to just forget about the whole ordeal myself. Abbie frowns, but lets the issue lie for now. I step past her and head for the stairs, but she calls me back as she rushes into the living room, finding her own purse and pulling something out of it.

"Here, take these," Abbie says, handing me her sunglasses. It's nearly pitch black outside other than the streetlamps, and hardly anything but candlelight inside. Nonetheless I put on her shades to try and hide my bruise, and feel to become almost blind inside the house. We both know Trevor's temper when it comes to these kind of things.

"Hey, Cee?" Abbie calls me back again for just a moment. "Want to cuddle tonight?" she half smiles at me, looking hopeful, though knowing better than to get her hopes up. "I mean, ya know, if Trevor doesn't need ya all night..."

I reply only with a soft kiss on her lips, moister than I had anticipated. Abbie moans into my mouth and licks her lips when it is over.

"Mmm," she smiles at me, her lips glistening as mine are. "Who is that?" she grins, tasting the same cum that I do. I can't help but laugh and she begins to giggle a bit too, that is before she pulls me back to her, drawing me into a deeper kiss this time. My lips part almost instantly as I feel Abbie's tongue yearning to enter my mouth. I meet hers with my own and we kiss as though we were already fucking. Slowly and reluctantly we pull away from each other. We both know what I have to do tonight, and we both know how impatient Trevor is.

"I miss you, Cee," Abbie says to me as I slide away up the stairs. We're both so busy we rarely get to see each other anymore. I offer her a soft smile and she smiles back at me.

God, I miss her too.

Trevor's door is open a crack. The bed is pounding against the wall, I can hear it over the music. A handful of guys are laughing, and a single girl is moaning. It's not an uncommon occurrence, and to be honest, a welcome one tonight. Maybe Trevor's usually insatiable need for pussy might be quelled enough for tonight to let me slip in and out without hassle. I don't recognize the girl's voice though. Some people say all moans sound alike, but I've heard each of my sisters' enough to know what they all sound like. I peek my head in, but can't see much with Drake's broad back in front of me. A heavy grunt and a loud moan later and I push the door open and step in, watching as some girl I've never seen before orgasms down the length of my boyfriend's dick.

As I enter she collapses down onto her stomach, her ass still propped up in the air, Trevor still going to work on her from behind as the boys part to let me pass.

"Hey, Angel," Drake grins at me. "Hey, Lina," and "Hey, Celina," the other two greet me as I enter, everyone having their own name for me it gets hard to keep together sometimes. I lift my hand up in a pathetic attempt to wave at them, and then just clear my throat, waiting to get Trevor's attention.

"So what do you think?" Drake asks me, nudging me on my shoulder.

"About what?" I ask exasperatedly.

"The new girl," he grins, gesturing to the bed. "Her name's Jill."

"Eh," I shrug, looking down at the bed with him. "She's cute enough," I say, and by the look on Drake's face he agrees. "Nice and petite," I assess her a bit absentmindedly, sliding around Drake to get a better look from a different angle. "Better chest than mine," I grumble a little bit. "But her hair is a mess. How long have you guys been at her?" I ask, gazing at her long brunette strands that have become frizzy and unkempt, but none say a word, they all merely point to Trevor. Apparently none of them had even had their turn yet.

"Mmm, hey, Cece," Trevor finally acknowledges me as I near the bed to inspect the new girl, grabbing me by my waist and pulling me towards him to kiss him.

"Fuck, Trevor!" I yell at him, pushing away from his kiss after I get a mouthful of what smells like beer, pot, and pussy. I remember my parents arguing in the kitchen when I was younger over my dad drinking straight from the milk carton, and I feel oddly nostalgic in my words. "Don't kiss me after drinking from another girl's cunt!" I scream at him, but Trevor doesn't seem to care. He just laughs.

"Like I'm the only one with cum on my lips," he teases me, but I ignore the fucking comment. He's the one who set me up to get fucked tonight in the first place. Not wanting to be here any longer than I have to right now, I open my purse, pull out the envelope with Mr. Facelli's payment, and toss 1,000 of it onto the bed by Trevor, giving him his cut.

"Have fun tonight," I say without emotion, turning back towards the door to leave. Fucking Trevor still has me by the waist, however, and refuses to let go. He pulls out of the new girl's cunt and he turns to me, holding me against his naked body, his cum covered cock staining my skirt.

"Don't be mad, Cece," Trevor coos me, trying to kiss me, but I turn away from him.

"I'm not mad," I lie, avoiding his kiss.

"Bullshit you're not!" he laughs, holding me and refusing to let me go until I willingly turn back to him. He's smiling, and he has that look in his eye. Fuck me, I sigh, I should have let him blow his load in Jill before I came in. "Come on, Cece," he holds me tighter. "My baby gonna smile for me?"

I fight against him for several moments... I don't know why but I do... I don't know why I even try, and Trevor doesn't know either, because if there's ever a battle I never win... it's this one. I give up in Trevor's arms, he slides his hand over my bare stomach and tickles my skin, causing my lips to curve upwards. He smiles back at me when I do and he kisses me deeply, and this time I don't even care anymore about the booze, the smoke, or the taste of Jill's cunt on his breath. I open my mouth and let him slide his tongue deep inside of me.

"Drake, why don't you show Jill here the business," he laughs after he breaks our kiss, and Drake happily obliges, moving over to the bed to lift Jill's body off of it. She barely has the power to stand under her own strength, or even walk straight. As she passes I notice it...

I grab her by her wrist and turn her arm over, gazing down at the needlemark on her arm.

"Jesus, how much did you give her!?" I yell at Trevor, I yell at them all, but none of them answer. I get only what I always get, to not worry, that everything will be fine. Drake disappears with the other two guys with Jill in his arms, and within moments the room across the hall begins to emanate moans and cries.

The moment they're gone, Trevor's hands have already slipped down to my ass, lifting me up a bit and sliding me back down so that his wet cock pricks up underneath my skirt. I can feel it slide up between my legs, and I know there's no way out of it now.

Trevor kisses me again, and he reaches up to pull Abbie's shades from off my face. I react quickly to stop him, causing him to break our kiss and look at me impatiently.

"Take them off, Cee," Trevor doesn't ask, he demands. I silently refuse, and again I don't know why I even bother. Like I'm ever going to win...

"Take them off!" he shouts angrily at me, and like a timid puppy I retreat, lifting my hands to my face to draw Abbie's shades down from my eyes. If I thought he was mad before, it doesn't even compare to how he gets when he sees the bruise on the side of my face. I can't even guess how big it is.

"That fucking bastard," Trevor growls, already knowing the entire story. It was he, after all, who sent Mr. Facelli to me.

"Trevor, just drop it, okay?" I ask him, no I plead with him, but somehow I know he's not going to listen.

"Who the fuck does he think he is thinking he can touch one of my girls?" he nearly spits he's so furious. Well, he's a client, I think but don't say, and you fucking gave him my phone number and a price to do more than just touch me. That's not what Trevor means though. How dare a client hit me is what he means. How dare anyone but he hit me is what he means...

"Trevor, please, just drop it, okay?" I ask of him again, knowing that Mr. Facelli has already won. He knows the law better than most, and on top of that he's on the side of it, whereas me and Trevor are on the opposite side of those tracks. As much as I wish to deny it, Mr. Facelli waged a war he knows he can't lose. He did what he wanted to me tonight, and he knows there is nothing an 18 year old whore and her drug dealing pimp can do about it.

"Come on, baby..." I goad him, rubbing myself against him a little bit, letting his cock slide up and down my belly under my skirt. I'm horribly not in the mood right now, but I just know there's nothing else that will distract Trevor's attention enough to get him to drop the subject. His eyes switch fairly quickly from anger to lust, and he holds me tighter in his arms. If only I could tell him I wasn't in the mood, that I was just doing this to save the business, everything we've worked for, save him embarrassment, save him jailtime, and perhaps even save his life. If only I could tell him I just wanted to go cuddle with Abbie tonight and fall asleep, but alas I can't, and before I can even react I'm on my back on his bed, legs spread wide around his waist with his massive 12 inch cock poised to pierce me through.

With his strong hand he grabs my breasts through my shirt, kneading them forcefully and causing me to yelp. He lifts up my skirt a bit and gazes down at my shaved pussy, eying it hungrily as he rubs the head of his massive cock against it. My cunt still oozes with the cum of three different men this night, but Trevor doesn't care. He gets ready to penetrate me, looking far too eager to slide it into me slowly, ready to spear it into me in one heavy thrust. He pins me down by my shoulders. He slides his thighs underneath mine, lifting my legs up into the air. He positions his cock at my pussy and he...

"Wait!" I cry out, and to my surprise, Trevor does. Half the time we fuck he's too blitzed out of his mind to hear anything I say, and the other half he doesn't much care. "Wait..." I repeat breathlessly, the head of his cock just barely parting the lips of my vagina.

"What the fuck for, Cece?" Trevor groans, halting his thrust before it can penetrate me.

"I just..." I begin, not knowing what to say or how to say it. "I don't know... I'm tired..." eventually I make up some lame excuse. It's not entirely false anyway.




It's Not Prostitution Ch. 04



"Are you serious, Celina?" Trevor groans. He never uses my full name unless he's angry, or at least somewhat exasperated.

"I've just had a really long day, okay? I kinda just want to go to sleep," I tell him, but to that Trevor only laughs.

"You just need to unwind a bit," Trevor tells me, reaching into the nightstand to open up a tin container. He pulls out a joint, but I shake my head. I'm not in the mood to fucking smoke, I sigh to myself, I just want to go to bed. He pulls out a bag of white powder and again I shake my head. He just doesn't get it, but then again no guy ever does when he's just looking to get laid. Next Trevor pulls another item out... and I look at him angrily, not wanting to have this fucking conversation with him again.

"No," I tell him adamantly. "Fucking no, I've told you this before, Trevor, I'm not doing that shit again," I glare at him, but he simply ignores what I have to say, unrolling a tiny kit on the side of the bed.

"Shut the fuck up, Celina," he tells me. It's not that those words are uncommon from Trevor's mouth, but they're not often directed at me. When they are, more often than not they're in jest. There are only two other times I can remember him speaking them to me with such ire in his voice... The first time was the very first night that we met... the night Trevor slipped a pill into my drink and raped me with his foot long cock as I cried for him to stop. The second time was when I told him I was through with his shit and threatened to walk out on him. He beat me then until my lips bled and my face burned, and then he did what he was doing now. He unrolled his little kit, he tied my upper arm with a rubber cord, and he injected me with a shot of heroin.

I puked for like eight hours straight the morning after, vowing to never let that crap into my body again. Trevor assured me the next time would be easier, and it was a bit, but that didn't stop me from feeling sick to my stomach the second time. I didn't fucking want to do it again, but Trevor didn't seem interested in anything I had to say. He readied the needle and he took hold of my arm, wrapping the rubber cord around it.

"Come on," I purr a little bit, but Trevor knows me too well to know that it's an act. I'm his favorite little actress, after all. "We don't need that," I coo, sitting up and sliding closer to him, lowering my hand down to his cock and sliding it up and down. "I can take care of you just fine without it," I smile in that cute, seductive way that he loves.

"Stop the fucking act, Celina," Trevor snaps at me. "You know I don't like fucking you when you're moody," he groans at me, as if he hasn't pissed me off enough today. I glare at him, but he simply grabs my arm tighter, beginning to tie the rubber cord around my arm to cut off my blood circulation.

"Trevor, seriously," I snap back at him. "I don't want to do this shit, I told you," I say, pulling away from him so he can't finish the knot. In that moment, with such an incredible speed, my throat is caught in Trevor's large hand, my back is forced down to the bed again, and the back of my head bangs against the wooden frame of the bed, sending shivers through my body.

"Stop acting like I'm the fucking devil on your shoulder," he shouts down at me, and my body shivers more as I look up at him frightened. "I'm doing this for you," he asserts, but my gaze doesn't reflect that I believe him.

"Look," Trevor says, softer now, looking into my eyes. "I love you," he tells me. "You know that, right?" he asks, refusing to take his eyes from mine until I nod softly in affirmation. "And you trust me, right?" he asks again, sliding his hand away from my throat. Again, tears, real tears, falling down my cheeks, I nod in affirmation.

Trevor kisses me then on my lips, holding his mouth to mine until I willingly slide my tongue up into his mouth, his odd way of being reassured that I love him. Before our mouths part he's already tied off my upper arm, and he readies the syringe again. 

"Trevor..." I say softly, trying to get him to listen. "I really don't want to do this again," I cry, unable to do anything more, unable to fight against him any longer, knowing it has already gone too far with him, and not wanting to go to where his anger will take him next.

"Cece," he says to me, looking intently down at my arm, calling me again by his little pet name for me. "Just lie back and relax," he tells me, and I feel a sharp prick pierce my skin. "I won't let anything hurt you anymore..." he goes on, his voice trailing off as my head begins to swim, my body feels to get lighter, and just as Trevor promised me...

All my pain disappears...

I could have fallen asleep right then and there, had Trevor not crawled up my body, lifted up my shirt and hiked up my bra. His fingers and tongue swirling around my breasts, pinching and biting my nipples, felt like a thousand tiny spiders crawling against my skin. He lifted my shirt up off my head and in that moment the gentle wind sent shivers through my entire body, chilling my skin and covering it with goosebumps, a sensation a thousand times more exhilarating than even the coldest winter wind. He laid his thick cock between my breasts and he attempted to wrap my tiny mounds around it. My breasts barely reached up far around his thick and throbbing cock, but that didn't seem to matter to Trevor, ever, he enjoyed it, and so I laid there in euphoric bliss, letting him fuck my tits as the head of his cock crept closer and closer to my lips.

"Mmm," Trevor moaned. "Give Daddy a nice kiss, Cece," he spoke down to me, and though I knew what he was saying, it was as if his words didn't make any sense to me, my mind wandering down whatever path it desired, without heed of reality. I knew what I wanted though. I felt good, I felt free, I felt immortal, every sensation that coursed through my body a thousand times stronger than it ever was in the real world. Why wouldn't I want to feel ecstasy?

I kissed the head of Trevor's cock lovingly. I licked the tip of its cum, and though I knew way in the back of my head that it was Jill's, it didn't matter, it tasted wonderful, and I let the flavor coat my tongue and throat. I opened my mouth wide, as wide as I could, and I let Trevor shove the first three inches of his dick into my mouth.

It was like trying to stuff a whole Big Mac into my mouth, from bun to bun to bun, Trevor's cock so thick around it stretched my lips out wide. It filled my mouth so fully there was room for little else. I must have looked liked such a trashy whore, unable to swallow fast enough to even keep myself clean. Trevor's cum mixed with Jill's, mixed with my own saliva, it all leaked from my mouth in tiny rivers at first, but after only several minutes it felt to gush from my mouth, coating my chin and neck in thick waves, like I was a toddler playing with my food and getting more onto my face than anywhere else. Trevor didn't care though. Why would he? He had his cock buried in an 18 year old's mouth. I didn't care either. Why would I?

I was in another world.

When Trevor came it was like a heatwave of pleasure in my mouth. It was thick and salty, like it always was of course, but my mind so lost in wonder my tastebuds didn't seem to fully register it. I've sucked off guys from 3 inches long, to 12 like Trevor, and the difference is almost astronomical. The little spurts a tiny cock gives barely fill my mouth. The couple waves an average sized cock gives takes a swallow or two to manage. A massive cock like Trevor's however... could fill a glass...

He came at the end of his thrust, meaning his cock was buried as deep as it could go in my mouth without penetrating my throat, which was impossible at this angle, when he ejaculated into me. My first reaction, of course, was to swallow, and I did so, drinking down his semen like it was warm milk, but there was just so much of it and so little space in my mouth so filled with Trevor's massive dick, that his cum exploded out from my lips as well, covering even more of my chin and raining down onto my chest. With each pulsing wave I swallowed again, but so little of his precious juice felt to stay inside. After the fifth wave his cock jerked one final time and fell still in my mouth. Trevor moaned and I sighed as he withdrew his monster from my mouth. I could suck on that massive stick of meat for years, I thought to myself, like like I used to suck on my thumb when I was a child.

Trevor's phone rang and he rose up from the bed. I laid there watching him as he paced the room naked, his softening cock still hanging over 6 inches long.

"You want a meeting for tomorrow night?" he asks the person on the other end of the line, confirming the arrangement. "And you have the means to afford this?" he double checks, failing to lash out in a fit of impatience which means he must have liked the answer he received for his last question. "So what kind of girl are you looking for?" he asks and then falls silent for long moments, listening intently to the voice on the other line, committing to memory every word that he hears. This part of the business he takes very seriously. A happy customer is a repeat customer, and a repeat customer is at least a thousand bucks each night.

"I have the perfect friend for you," Trevor says. "Got a pen?" he asks before he offers the string of digits. "888-7121" he says, and the number is as familiar to me as my own. Apparently this man's fantasy is of Little Miss Popular, the Prom Queen type, the Head Cheerleader type, the girl in High School that all other girls want to be, and all guys would give anything to date. He wants the girl who, just by flashing a smile, can make an entire room of people fall in love with her, her bubbly, giggly personality one that that quite simply attracts all attention to her.

He wants Abbie...

And he wants to fuck her.

"Ask for Sera," Trevor tells this man, and I can't help but smile sleepily at the name. Abbie chose it as her business name, both because it sounded sexy, and because mine was Angel. She said it was short for Seraphim, which kind of made us sisters.

I wish she was here to cuddle with right now.

An urgent knock sounded on the door and Trevor shouted rather unpleasantly for them to tell him what the fuck they wanted. It was Kurt I could see as the door opened, done fucking Ali it seemed, and having a bit of a dilemma.

"Hold on a sec," Trevor told the man on the phone. "What the fuck is it, Kurt?" he asked impatiently.

"Trev, we got a few guys lookin to buy a 50 bag, and we're all out of the stash downstairs. You wanna sell some of yours, or you want me to tell em to come back later?" Kurt asked, and Trevor seemed to grow even more annoyed. He held up his finger to silence Kurt for a moment, wanting to finish one transaction before starting another.

"Yeah, I know this is your first time," Trevor said a bit snippily to the person on the other end of the line. "So let me make it abundantly clear that it is your responsibility to make sure all the necessary arrangements are made," he laid out, arrangements meaning money of course, something Trevor doesn't fuck around about. "Sera can send you to Heaven tomorrow night, or I can send you to Hell," he finished, and with this man's confirmation, he hung up.

"Okay, now what the fuck did you want?" Trevor turned back to Kurt.

"You want me to dip into your stash or not?" Kurt reiterated, and Trevor looked thoughtful for a moment. I almost laughed, or at least I think I did, not really knowing where my mind was at the moment. You have over 3 pounds, I wanted to say. These guys only want a few ounces.

"Nah, go ahead and weigh it out for them," Trevor agreed, pointing to one of the jars on the dresser. "Wouldn't want people to start thinking we're unreliable," he joked with Kurt, and the two of them laughed. Kurt had just pulled out the scale and placed some of the weed on top of it when oddly, I heard my name.

"Holy shit," a voice from out in the hallway spoke. "Is that Angel?"

The bed I laid on directly opposite the doorway, I could see them clearly, and thus they could see me, though I didn't know who they were. I didn't much care either.

"She's fucking naked, dude!" another voice said, and boyish laughs began to ensue.

"God damn, she is so fucking hot," the first voice returned. "I'd give anything to ride that tight little pussy," he laughed, and in my mind so did I.

How shameless.

"You want a 50 bag or you want to fucking stare at my girlfriend?" Trevor suddenly appeared before the three guys in the doorway, blocking their view of me, and giving them instead a full view of his own naked body, ripped muscles, skull tattoos, and knife scars all. Two of the boys shut up so fast I would have guessed they shit their pants. The other one seemed to lack what we call common sense.

"Dude, I'd rather stare at your girlfriend," he laughed, maybe high off something already, maybe just that fucking stupid, I don't know, but it wasn't until Trevor grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him fully off the ground that this guy realized that the situation wasn't as funny as he first thought.

"Dude!! Wait!!" the slender guy begged, covering his face with his lenky arms. He frantically reached into his pocket while trying to protect himself from Trevor's seemingly inevitable blow, dropping several bills to the floor, but managing to keep a few in his fingers as he raised the money up to Trevor's face. "I was gonna pay!!" he screeched, and surprisingly Trevor held his fist at bay.

"You want to pay to look at my girlfriend?" Trevor asked, sounding so suddenly to forget about his anger, sounding a bit shocked, and almost intrigued by this shaking boy's proposal. Again my mind laughed. Don't you remember what it is I do, Trevor? People pay for my body, period. Why should this guy's desires be any different?

"Well..." the idiot stammered a bit, still held up in the air by Trevor's fist. "Yeah, kinda," he said. "W... we could pay ya the 50 instead of for the weed..."

The guy's feet dropped back down to the floor with a thud. Trevor turned back to Kurt and laughed, as though sharing some joke with him. Kurt put away the weed and the scale and Trevor moved away from the doorway, revealing my naked body to the three boys again. Trevor made 50 dollars, he didn't lose any drugs, in fact he didn't lose anything at all. How was this not the perfect business deal?

"Boys, you've just bought yourself 10 minutes," he laughed, and so did Kurt.

Trevor sat with Kurt on the couch on the side of the room, sliding on some cargo shorts as he did, inviting the three guys into the room, around the bed where I laid naked and prone, not wanting to move, not even sure if I was able to move, since I didn't even bother trying. I saw them approach, I felt their shadows descend over me. I tasted Trevor's cum still covering my face and chest.

You don't always get what you pay for. My dad tried to teach me that lesson when I was younger, because often there's some unexpected twist that dampens the whole deal. These guys paid 50 dollars to look at me naked for 10 minutes. Not a bad deal for the money maybe, I guess that's pretty subjective, but I don't think they really anticipated Trevor and Kurt being part of the deal as well. I'm not quite sure how these guys felt about watching me when they themselves were being watched by two guys much, much larger than them.

"You fucking touch her, you die," Trevor laughed, stating a stipulation of their deal he felt necessary to voice, and the three of them looked to grow even more timid as they gazed down upon me. None said a word as the first minute slowly passed, in fact none of them really said anything the whole of the time, none save for the one who seemed to fail at common sense.

"She's fucking covered in like a gallon of cum," the idiot eventually said, the only one of the three who seemed to actually want to get his money worth. The other two looked at him like he was a moron, wanting nothing more than to get out of Trevor's house with their heads still attached to their shoulders. One of the guys smacked the idiot in the arm, telling him to shut the fuck up... and while I didn't realize it at first...

It was Clay.

The moment I saw that it was him, my eyes never left his face.

I should have been ashamed, lying naked in bed, covered in what really did feel to be a gallon of a man's cum, on display for 50 dollars, but shame was a feeling lost in the back of my head, trapped with reality in a place I could not find. What I could find was Clay's cute face, his kind eyes, and though his gentle smile was not present on his face at the moment, I knew it was there somewhere.

I wanted him in me.

"Dude, you are like the luckiest guy I know," the idiot spoke over to Trevor, the only one of the three who slowly looked to be coming to enjoy himself. "Getting to fuck this girl every night," he laughed, and Trevor actually laughed with him. Who would have thought just a minute ago Trevor was ready to deck him in the face. They almost seemed to sound like friends now. It didn't really take much to get Trevor to like you, actually. Just cater to his ego and don't piss him off and you're on his good side. Now getting him to respect you, that's a completely different story.

"That's a nice watch there buddy," Trevor laughed as well, not so subtly changing the subject. I glanced over at it quickly, gold plating that must have cost at least 150 or so. "Tell ya what. Make a trade and you can jack off onto her, how bout that?" he was still laughing, but the idiot was not.

"Seriously!?" he gasped, already unbuckling the watch from his wrist and tossing it over to Trevor. Before it had even landed in Trevor's hand, this guy had unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out, stroking it vigorously in his hand as his shadow covered my body.

"So boys," Trevor rose to his feet, coming to stand between Clay and his silent friend. "She's a fucking doll, ain't she," he laughed amiably with them, and the two of them nodded their agreement, afraid not to. Trevor felt around their persons, feeling their pockets, he too shameless in it all. After a moment he pulled out an iPhone from Clay's back pocket. In my mind I gasped. Don't you dare, Trevor, I wanted to say.

"Same deal, eh?" Trevor grinned at Clay, holding up his own iPhone to his face. "For the both of you," he added, knowing Clay's phone was worth at least double the watch. Reluctantly, Clay nodded. It was highway robbery, plain and simple. Trevor could have taken every last thing that these guys owned, and all he had to do in return was not beat the living crap out of them before they left his house.

They had all now paid to pull out their cocks and jack off onto me, but Clay and his silent friend just waited.

"Ahh fuck, I want to fuck your fucking pussy," the idiot wailed as he jerked his thin cock vigorously. "Oh yeah baby, you want this meat in your mouth doncha?" he went on, talking dirty more to himself than anyone else. He squatted down a bit to lower his cock a bit nearer my face, but remained a safe distance away to avoid touching me. He stroked his cock violently up and down until at last a tiny spurt of rain tickled my face and he let out a deep moan of exhaustion, stumbling back on his feet a few paces.

Trevor clapped and Kurt laughed.

"You boys going to get to work or not?" Trevor asked, still laughing. "You've got..." he continued, pausing only a moment to check his brand new watch. "Three more minutes."

Neither Clay nor his other friend did anything but stand there. To them those three minute were a sentence, and once it was done they would at last be free.

I don't really know where my mind was. Perhaps I was being courageous when Clay couldn't be. Perhaps I was just being selfish. I don't know, but in this moment I didn't really care. I wanted what I wanted, unaware of how much I would regret it in the days to come.I slid up onto my hands and knees and I moved a bit closer to Clay, causing his eyes to widen. I reached for the waist of his pants and I pulled him towards me, causing him to shake his head and pull away.




It's Not Prostitution Ch. 04



I unzipped his pants before he could.

"Celina, what the fuck are you doing?" Trevor demanded of me, but I ignored him. Clay fought against me to remove my hands from off of him, disobeying Trevor's rule, but all in good faith since he was attempting to obey the spirit of the law, if not the letter. They all knew what I was searching for, after all.

I encircled Clay's waist with my arms before he could pull away from me fully. I let his cock fall onto my face as his pants fell to the floor, and I reached for it like I was bobbing for apples. Clay looked over to Trevor like a deer stuck in headlights, but Trevor just sat there talking to Kurt.

"She's like a fucking bitch in heat sometimes," Trevor sighs, reclining back more into the couch, watching me fish for Clay's cock with my mouth. Eventually I catch it and I slide its erect length over my tongue. It takes a while for Clay to give up his fight, but once he realizes Trevor's not going to end his life, and that his cock is actually sliding into and out of my mouth, he lets me do my work, letting me take every last inch of his shaft into my mouth and down my throat.

I suck him for only a few minutes before the feel of my tongue and warm mouth wrapped around his cock gets to be too much for him to handle. Clay coats the inside of my mouth with his warm, milky juices, and I swallow down every bit of it, able to this time keep it all in my mouth. He moans loudly as he ejaculates, and I purr and whine, loving the taste but wanting more.

The deed is done. Clay pulls out of my mouth and tucks himself back inside of his pants. Trevor gets up from his seat on the couch and I fall back down onto the bed, exhausted after such a long day, returning to my drugged, motionless stupor, blinking my eyes a few times and drifting away to sleep.

"Now get the fuck out of my house," Trevor tells the three of them, no longer laughing amiably as he was just a few moments ago. He clasps his arm around Clay's shoulders, and personally shows him out of the room into the hallway. The words were like a dream. I don't know how I remember them, but I do, and yet they still don't feel to truly register in my dizzy mind. They should scare me, they should make me sad, they should make me angry, but I don't know where emotion is right now, I don't know what it is.

There is only pleasure.

"Now I know all this wasn't your fault," Trevor says down to Clay as he shows him out into the hallway, and somehow I just know he is trying to pick a fight. "She's not always the most obedient, if you know what I mean," he laughs a little bit. "She kinda takes what she wants," Trevor claps Clay forcefully on the back. "But you got a lot more than you paid for," he told Clay, barring his path in the hall to the stairs that led down to the front door... This is where Trevor would have rolled up his sleeves... if he had been wearing a shirt.

Trevor's fist slammed hard into Clay's face, sending the poor guy down to the floor in just a single strike. I could see it all from my position on the bed, and yet I still couldn't move, I still couldn't speak. What would I have done if I wasn't so drugged right now. Maybe I would have tried to make Trevor stop, maybe I would have failed, or maybe I would have been too scared to do anything. Most likely, I wouldn't have sucked Clay off in the first place to avoid this whole mess, but I had, and I loved it. At the very least I would have felt terrible... rather than merely relishing the taste of Clay's cum that still lingered on my lips and tongue.

I passed slowly into sleep as Trevor got payment from Clay for the blowjob he had received. The sound of Trevor's fist slamming into Clay's face over and over, the sound of Clay's face slamming into the floor, this was my lullaby. Clay's pleas for Trevor to stop, and Trevor and Kurt's laughter in return, this was the song that lulled me to sleep.

I was nearly gone when Trevor at last returned to our room, slamming the door shut behind him. My last look at his face told me one thing, as if I hadn't already known it. Sex and violence, if there was anything that could turn him on it was these two things. He had just watched a boy jack off onto my face, and then watched me suck off another. He had just beaten another man, to what extent I do not know, and so how could he not be in the mood to fuck me yet again this night. When his shorts dropped down, his massive 12 inch cock popped up once again. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander even further from reality. As my body was turned and dropped onto my back, I felt as though I was laying on a cloud up in the heavens. The last sensation that coursed through my body before I drifted away to sleep was the length of Trevor's cock plunging deep into my tired cunt.



It's Not Prostitution Ch. 05



It was 6 o'clock on the dot when my cellphone rang, its shrill sound like a banshee's cry, causing my head to reverberate painfully.

"Who the fuck is calling you at 6 in the fucking morning!?" Trevor cursed from beside me, his arm draped around my naked body. We both fell instantly back to sleep.

It was 7 o'clock on the dot when my cellphone rang again, waking us again to its shrill cry. It rang again at 8, 9, and 10, every hour on the hour. Each time I laid in bed, trying to filter out its annoying sound, before I fell back to sleep again. It was after the fifth call however that Trevor rose from the bed.

"Answer your fucking phone, Celina!" he yelled at me as he got dressed and left the room. Where he went I do not know. I passed out again.

At 11 o'clock on the dot my cellphone rang again, but this time it only rung a few times before someone picked up.

"Hey!" it said in an excited, giggly tone. "You've reached Angel. I can't come to the phone right now cuz I'm passed the fuck out!" it laughed, amused at pretending to be my voicemail message. "Leave a message at the beep!" it went on, flipping the phone shut and hanging up on whoever it was. I felt the bed shake then as Abbie jumped in beside me, wrapping her arms around me and snuggling into my neck. I wrapped my arms around her too and fell back asleep.

At 12 o'clock, as expected, my cellphone rang again, and Abbie playfully covered my ears for me, knowing I just wanted some peace and fucking quiet. When the ringing stopped she kissed me before laying her head back onto my chest, nuzzling herself between my breasts.

I'm not sure what time it was when I was rudely awoken the next time, but it must have been close to 1 in the afternoon, because it wasn't long before my cellphone rang again. The bed shook, just like when Abbie jumped back in to cuddle with me, but this time it didn't stop.

Abbie squeaked, and I felt crushed for a moment on the bed as a large, dark shadow descended over me.

"Drake! Stop it! C'mon, Cee's trying to sleep!" Abbie scolded as a third person joined us on the bed. Slowly I began to open my eyes to see Abbie bracing herself up on her hands and knees, still dressed in just the bra and skirt she was wearing last night, her panties being slid down her thighs as Drake draped her body from behind.

"C'mon, seriously Drake, st..." Abbie persisted, cutting herself short and breaking into a fit of moans as, I assume, Drake thrust up deep inside of her from behind. I closed my eyes again and tried to fall back asleep, but of course, as expected, at 1 o'clock on the dot my fucking cellphone rang again.

I don't know what was louder, the phone or Abbie's cries right over me as she was fucked by Drake's thick dick on all fours. Her arms were already wavering. I don't know how long they had been at it, but she had held herself up the entire time to avoid falling on top of me while I slept. She's such a sweetie. God I love her.

My fucking head ached like hell though. My stomach churned like I was going to vomit, and even the slightest movement made it ten times worse. I tried not to move, but it felt like I was on a boat the way the whole bed was shaking under Drake's vigorous thrusts into Abbie's cunt. It was not long before I felt drops of their cum rain down onto my stomach.

Abbie was forced to brace herself against the headboard of the bed, and her perfect, firm, perky, 18 year old tits bounced right over my face, helping me to forget, at least a little bit, about how sick I felt. Knowing I wouldn't be getting any more sleep this morning, I reached up slowly with a single finger, tracing a line down Abbie's chest. Abbie opened her eyes as I ran my finger down her skin, and she stifled her moans for a bit as she smiled down at me.

"Ugh..." she panted. "Morning, Sungh..." she moaned as Drake continued to plow her, never letting up. "Sunshine..." eventually she made out, smiling broader as she watched a smile creep onto my own face. Abbie leaned down to kiss me on my lips and I kissed her back, letting our tongues play together for a moment before she was forced to brace herself again, Drake's thrusts becoming even more forceful.

For about 10 more minutes they fucked atop me, Drake loving to talk dirty to his partner, and Abbie the loudest screamer I have ever known. She had tried to keep relatively quiet while I slept, but now that I was awake, nothing held her back from voicing her passions as she was taken from behind. I didn't even need to hear their orgasmic moans to know that they had cum together. The deluge of warm liquid that fell to my tummy proof enough that they had climaxed together.

Abbie collapsed on top of me then, her slender, 110 pound body, nothing I couldn't handle, and her warm skin feeling wonderful against mine. We were able to snuggle for just a moment before Drake came around to the side of the bed, holding his dripping cock out in front of the both of us.

"Come on, Abbie, I got shit to do today," he told her impatiently when she played coy, looking up at him as though she didn't know what it was he wanted of her. She's just as good an actress as I am, at least in my opinion. She's perhaps not as diverse in her repertoire of roles as I am, but the ones she does play she plays extraordinarily well. Drake shoved his dick closer to her and Abbie obediently took it into her mouth, cleaning his shaft of their cum and leaving it spotless.

Drake left, and at last it was just me and Abbie left to cuddle with each other. She sidled up next to me, held me close, and after several moments, began kissing me down my chest, licking my skin and gently coming to suck on my breasts.

My body reacted to her gentle, sensual touch, needing her soft, feminine caresses after so many men had used me so roughly, as though I were an object rather than a person. Abbie regarded me as a sister, as she always did, and I did the same to her. She was my best friend, and sometimes the only person I felt that I could talk to. Too bad I just couldn't bring myself to talk about what had happened last night, even though I knew she worried.

Abbie continued to kiss and lick my skin, down from my breasts, to my navel, toying with my belly button ring with her tongue. I writhed on the bed beneath her, half in ecstasy from her loving touch, half in like a feverish pain as my stomach still felt like it would turn inside out. She lowered her head down further between my thighs and she gently kissed my clit, causing me to cry out as I felt an intense wave of pleasure surge through my body. I felt her tongue tickle me down lower, and just as it was about to enter inside of me...

"Abbie..." I said to her, causing her to pause for a moment and look up at me. Already she could tell in the sound of my voice alone that she wasn't going to like what I had to say. Her lips curved downwards into a frown and she got that pouty look on her face. Lovingly I stroked her hair.

"I need to take a shower," I told her, still covered in the sex of six men from the previous night. I could smell it soaked into my skin, and it just made my stomach churn more. Abbie frowned more, but I pulled her back up my body, cupping her cheeks in my hands. I kissed her warmly until I could feel her smile return.

"Want to come with me?" I asked, already knowing the answer, and Abbie's face lit up like the dawn.

We walked together to the shower, me naked and Abbie clad only in her bra and skirt. We both wondered together just what Drake had done with her panties. A group of boys buying who knows what whistled at the two of us as we passed by the stairs in the hallway on the way to the bathroom, but with my head aching so bad I didn't even care what they saw. I felt like I had just awoken from the worst dream I've ever had. Abbie, however, as flirtatious as always, blew them a kiss before disappearing into the bathroom with me.

Abbie turned on the water, and in my dazed state I walked straight in, getting rudely awoken by a jet of freezing cold water. Abbie laughed as I jumped back, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor as she stepped out of her skirt.

I love Abbie, and would never think a single bad thing about her, but I can't help but be somewhat jealous of her chest. I'm not flat or anything, but I'm a rather simple B-cup, whereas Abbie has the most tremendous C's I've ever seen. It's only a one cup size difference, but it's pretty noticeable, at least I think. Abbie has often tried to make me feel better about it, telling me that my smaller breasts will probably stay firm and perky longer, while the heavier weight of hers will make hers begin to sag earlier. I'm not really worried about the future right now though, and in the present they are pretty much the most perfect set on any living being in the world. Even as she drops her bra to the ground the firm orbs on her chest don't drop a millimeter, but stick straight out at you, as though they were looking at you and begging to be touched.

We were wrapped up in each others arms, kissing and caressing the other's body before we even made it under the warm water of the shower. Abbie toyed with my tongue and I toyed with hers, and as the water slid down my body I felt to be returned to Heaven. The aching in my head felt to ease a bit, as did the churning of my stomach. I slid my hands down Abbie's smooth back and began to rub the delicious curves of her ass.

Abbie giggled as she pulled away from our kiss to reach for the soap. She lathered it up in her hands and reached out first and foremost to my chest, fondling my breasts as she soaped up my skin, washing away what felt like a gallon of cum soaked into me. She ran her hands up around my neck, over my shoulders and down my arms. She ran her hands back over my chest and then down my tummy. As she did I took the opportunity to lather up my own hands and give my face a desperately needed cleansing. I poured some shampoo into my hands and ran them quickly through my blonde hair, giving the sticky parts an even more thorough scrub to make sure all of the cum was washed away, as Abbie soaped up my legs and helped me get clean. When she had finished that she rose back to her feet, wrapped her arms back around me and drew me back into a loving kiss. It was her hands that this time crept down my back and over my ass. She ran the bar of soap down between my crack and slid it over my anus and then further down still to my pussy. There she scrubbed gently at first, but as my breaths grew heavier so did her hand, giving me the most exquisite and erotic bathing I have ever had in my life.

"Fuck!" I screamed and my body jerked so suddenly that Abbie dropped the soap to the floor of the shower. It made no difference though. She never slowed her movements, but slid two fingers up inside of my cunt almost instantly, filling my body with an even warmer sensation than the shower offered. My hips began to buck against her hand, and in response Abbie delved into me deeper, giggling into my mouth as I kissed her passionately. I came then, on her hand and down my thighs, but the shower water washed the proof of it away almost instantly. Drained of my energy I collapsed down to my knees on the floor of the shower and then leaned back into the corner of it, unable to hold myself up any more. Abbie then knelt down beside me and we just held each other and laughed for several moments, cleaning each other off so that we both felt fresh again.

When we had finished we stepped out of the shower together. We toweled each other off and Abbie gathered up her clothes from off the floor. We made our way back to Trevor's room together, naked, and searched together through the closet for something pretty for the both of us to wear today.

Abbie picked out a cute, pleated skirt, a light blue one that matched her eyes. It was actually quite rare that she wasn't wearing a skirt because they always made her feel so sexy. As if she needed it. She slid on a pair of matching panties, and a similarly blue bra to go with it, and chose an adorable white t-shirt to go over it, one so tight it left nothing to the imagination, and one so thin it made clear the color of her bra beneath. She looked like a teenage Goddess to be quite honest. Whoever Trevor had lined up for her tonight would feel like the luckiest man on the planet, I already knew it.

I opted for a simple denim skirt that barely did more than wrap my waist, with a hot pink bra and pair of panties to go under. I chose a matching pink tank top to wear over my bra, a spaghetti strap one so, even though it wasn't thin enough to see through, it was skimpy enough to show much of the bra I wore beneath it. It opened up just above my navel too, which is just another thing I loved about it, letting my belly button ring breathe. The two of us giggling in our new outfits, cleansed of the previous day's troubles and feeling at least a bit more refreshed and ready to face the new day, Abbie and I exited the closet. I wish I could have held onto this feeling forever, but like most things in my life I could be appreciative for, it was all too fleeting.

"Abbie!" Trevor shouted from downstairs as the front door shot open and slammed closed. He was in a bad mood, we could both tell just from the tone of his voice. Neither of us knew why, and surely it couldn't have been because of Abbie, she had been with me in the house all day, but then again neither of us really knew what set him off half the time anyway.

Abbie cringed. She wasn't as tough as some of the rest of us. I mean as I was a man's rape fantasy, Abbie was their Princess fantasy, adorably cute and incredibly fuckable, happy-go-lucky most of the time with a smile that could illuminate an entire room. She didn't know how to deal with angry people the way I did, and mostly in part because she didn't know how to get angry the way I did. She'd face them down with sweetness and smiles, and sadly with Trevor that was the way to get walked all over. We both knew better than to keep him waiting though. Abbie stepped out of the bedroom into the hallway, making her way to the top of the stairs in her sexy blue and white outfit.

"Yeah, Babe?" Abbie returned to him, appearing before him at the top of the stairs like an obedient servant.

"You're on call tonight," Trevor yelled up to her. "The name is Anderson Kane," he went on, beginning the details she would need to know. So that is who called last night... "He'll meet you outside Grit's at 1 a.m. Got it?"

Abbie nodded silently from the top of the stairs.

"Are you going to stay up there? Or are you going to get the fuck down here when I'm talking to you?" Trevor voiced his demand, in that odd way he had of making it sound like an overly sarcastic question. Blushing, Abbie quickly obeyed him, hopping down the steps quickly and making her breasts bounce in her tight white T. By the time she had reached the bottom, Trevor's mood had already significantly improved. I didn't even have to see any of it to know what was most likely going on.

"Damn you're so fucking cute," was the last thing I heard Trevor say before he probably engulfed Abbie's mouth within his own, grabbed her ass underneath her skirt, and began trying to finger her through her panties. Abbie was only able to make out a quick squeak before the only sound she could make was a long moan.

2 o'clock on the fucking dot my cellphone rang.

I don't know why I didn't check. I always fucking check. I always, always fucking check! My mind must have just been too distracted at the moment to look at the number on my cellphone's window before I flipped open the top to answer. If I had known it was Mr. Facelli's cellphone number I would never have answered, but in my stupid moment of ignorance I said...

"Hello?"

"Hello," the person on the other end of the line responded. "Is this Angel?" the voice asked, and I was shocked to find that it was a woman's voice, one that was direct and stern, but graceful and elegant at the same time.

"Yes..." I returned softly, a bit reluctantly.

I had never known that time could actually stop. I had never known that while the world continued to spin around a single person, she herself could cease to move forward with it, as a part of it. It's possible however, I know that now, for when this woman spoke again I simply ceased to be. The world continued to spin around me, but I stood frozen in place and time...

"My name is Elizabeth Facelli," this woman introduced herself to me...

"You had sex with my husband last night." 



It's Not Prostitution Ch. 06



Angel's meeting is not what she expected. 

Abbie pulls into the parking lot of Java Joes, a tiny coffee shop in one of the shittiest areas of downtown. I'm surprised it hasn't gone out of business by now and I sit for several moments trying to figure out how it hasn't, more to just distract my mind than because I actually care anything about this shithole. Abbie turns to face me from the driver's seat, giving me that half concerned, half angry look of hers, wishing I would tell her what the fuck was going on, and furious that I wouldn't. It's not that I don't love and trust her, I just don't want her to have to get involved in any of this. I didn't even want her to come with me, but she nearly pulled my hair out as she refused to let me go alone. I tell her to stay in the car, but Abbie doesn't listen, of course she doesn't. It was a futile request, but I had to try it anyway. I might as well have been kneeling down in front of a guy with his pants off and been asking him to not think about me sucking on his cock.

It wasn't going to happen.

Abbie was the first one out of the car, but I quickly followed, putting on my sunglasses to hide my bruised eye. I could tell just by Abbie's confident stride that she had already gone into bitch mode and was looking for a fight, like a mother bear knowing that one of her cubs had been threatened.

She certainly knew how to make an entrance, thrusting open the door and just standing in the threshold, inspecting each and every person that inspected her. I couldn't help but watch silently as nearly every set of eyes turned to face her, nearly all of them saying the same unspoken thing. It was easy to see in their eyes, and if they were well enough endowed you could literally see it in their pants as dicks rose to attention at the sight of her in a skirt that only barely covered her panties, and a tube top that didn't even entirely cover her chest.

All sets of eyes except for one.

It... it was kind of difficult to describe Elizabeth Facelli. At first, or at least on the surface I would have described her as a cold, heartless bitch, her blue eyes like sheets of ice and her face almost devoid of any emotion at all. She had almost a psychopathic lack of emotion, or at least that is how she came across from her seat in the far corner of the coffee shop. Her daughter Ally and I were only superficial friends back in high school. As two of the popular girls we hung out at the same parties, and knew most of the same people, but never really had anything we actually liked about the other. I remember Ally on a few occasions talking about her mother and how wonderful she was, but those times were horribly outnumbered by the times Ally was bitching about what a fucking cunt she was. The word of a crazy, bi-polar, probably psychopathic cunt herself, however, was not all that confidence inspiring. Her son Brad and I were little more than fuck buddies, and only on a few occasions. I honestly doubt he would even have remembered my name. He was a player in the truest sense of the word, and in a high school of over a thousand girls, he must have dated at least forty of them, and fucked well over two hundred.

I couldn't help but remember with a hint of amusement when I saw her in the corner of the coffee shop, that between her daughter Ally, her son Brad, and her husband, Elizabeth Facelli was the only member of her family that I hadn't fucked.

The truth was, however, I really didn't know much of anything about this woman, other than what was known in general about her. She was a Facelli, and thus was no stranger to the public's eye, admired by the fashionistas for her beauty, her elegance, and her class, and loathed by most others simply for being her husband's wife. Her face had probably been on the news or in the newspaper at least a dozen times in the past year, and yet I'd bet most people didn't even know what her voice sounded like. Now that I thought about it, I don't know if I even would have had she not called me directly earlier this morning. She was a prominent figure in the public's eye, and yet was nothing more to them but a dutiful wife standing at her husband's side.

I had this deep feeling in my gut that I was going to despise this woman, and my gut is rarely wrong.

One thing I did know for certain about Elizabeth Facelli was that she was born into money, and then she married into money, having never been left to want for need for anything, just like her daughter, Ally. It just made me hate her all the more.

So why did I even come? I've been asking myself that the whole of the day since I answered my phone, and so has Abbie. To be honest I do not know. Part of me has been trying to convince myself that it was because I believed she would carry out her veiled, subtle little threat from the phone, but the truest part of me knew I didn't care. Anything I don't want to face I don't, and it eventually goes away, or Trevor deals with it. Either way I don't have to. She may not have said it explicitly, but a talk with her and her lawyer? How is that not a threat?

No, the truth was, I just felt angry. I hated her husband, and I got the sense that she did too.

I didn't know it at the time, but it was the first of quite a few things we had in common.

"What the fuck do you want?" Abbie's vicious voice broke me from my thoughts, drawing even more attention to herself than she had already. Her hand slammed down upon the table that Mrs. Facelli was sitting at, though Mrs. Facelli's demeanor never wavered. She merely peered up at Abbie from behind her sunglasses and spoke her words simply.

"You are not her," Mrs. Facelli said plainly, looking beyond Abbie and meeting eyes with me, oddly as if she knew me, as if she knew exactly who I was.

I stepped forward towards the table as if I was being summoned, and I did my best to keep Abbie at bay, at least for the time being.

"Angel," Mrs. Facelli didn't ask as I approached, but rather stated with a sense of knowing. "I am Elizabeth Facelli," she introduced herself, actually rising from her seat and extending her hand to me in greeting, a gesture I couldn't very well hide my surprise towards. "And this is my attorney, Steven Granger. Thank you for meeting with us this afternoon," she went on, never breaking the facade of her elegance and class, even though I figured she must be despising me inside. Even here, even now, she treated this as though it were nothing more than a business meeting.

I stood there silently across the table from her, letting her outstretched hand linger ungreeted in the air. For a moment longer I let Abbie do my talking for me.

"What do you want?" Abbie wasted no time getting straight to the point, crossing her arms over her chest impatiently, as did I.

"Well, yes," Mrs. Facelli returned, retracting her hand and returning to her seat, still without even the slightest crack marring her grace. She had to have been, after all, used to being despised, used to such contempt. "Please, have a seat," she offered to the both of us. We both remained standing.

"Elizabeth," her attorney interceded, placing his hand on her arm and placing a brown file folder onto the table. Graciously Mrs. Facelli ceded to him, both of them noting that the air between us was far too tense for anything productive to take place.

"I understand you must be incredibly uncomfortable being here with us today," Steven began very diplomatically, his voice so tame and unthreatening that one couldn't help but at least let their guard down a little bit. "Given the situation," he went on, stammering uncomfortably for just a moment. "But we do not mean to in any way harm you. In fact we hope that this meeting may be mutually beneficial to the both of us," he went on, smiling faintly as Abbie and I both did appear to grow a bit more at ease at being here.

"Unfortunately, due to the nature of this meeting we cannot offer you drinks," Steven began again in time, a bit nervously, bumbling with his words for a moment. "I mean coffee, as we're at a coffee shop. We don't mean to seem rude, but..."

"What do you want?" this time I laid out bluntly, tired of their ramblings that went everywhere but straight to the point. It was, after all, the only thing I needed to hear.

Steven looked over at Elizabeth, and Elizabeth looked back over to Steven, before they both looked towards me.

"I want a divorce from my husband." 



It's Not Prostitution Ch. 07



Angel wonders how legit the proposition was.

We were both unlike ourselves on the car ride back to Trevor's, the sun just barely dipping below the western horizon when we left the coffee shop, but it would be gone by the time we reached home. It didn't help that Abbie took an unusually long route home, but I didn't say anything, nor did I mind. It gave me more time to mess with all the thoughts jumbling around in my head.

Was it even legit? Why would I have any reason to trust either of them? Actually, I didn't. I had fucked her husband, and whether she knew it or not, both her son and her daughter. Why would I then for a second put any trust in Elizabeth Facelli? And then there was her lawyer. Maybe to the rich they were like best friends, but not from my side of the tracks. Lawyers, police, politicians... someone like me doesn't really get the benefit of the doubt. I had no reason to trust Steven Granger either.

"I can't even believe I bothered to go," I half joked in the face of Abbie's silence part way through the ride home, hoping to elicit a response from her, any kind of response. It wasn't like her to be so silent and sullen, and it worried me. She was always so cheerful, at least around me. It was one thing we had always shared, but now it had seemed to disappear. Still Abbie returned nothing, she just continued to focus on driving the car, as it oblivious to the fact that I was in the passenger's seat.

"What a fucking waste of time," I laughed, but still Abbie said nothing, only furthering my concern. I got this horrible feeling that I was just talking to myself.

"I mean, I don't owe that bitch anything," I snickered, perhaps trying to convince myself of that, or maybe Abbie, or who the fuck knows. Abbie still said nothing in response, but she did at last turn to me to look at me for a brief moment, her expression... well I couldn't be entirely sure. It looked sad, and yet it looked angry at the same time. It looked warm and understanding, and yet it looked cold and piercing as well. If I had to guess, it was a combination of "I love you" and "fuck you" at the same time, a mixture of "I'd do anything for you" but a bit of "get your head out of your ass" too.

It wasn't often between me and Abbie where we didn't have anything to say. It wasn't often when we found more comfort not being with each other. I'd daresay we never got to the point where we couldn't even look each other in the eye, but I guess there is a first time for everything. I slumped back down into my seat and I just sat there, nearly blinding myself as I pulled down my sunglasses, even though night was fast approaching.

I could cry on cue for any client that wanted me to. That was easy. It was a far more difficult task holding back from doing so, so that no one could see.

Fifteen more minutes of complete silence, and me trying to desperately hold on to my composure, and we arrived back at Trevor's. I hurriedly moved to exit the car, only to be held back by the first of Abbie's words to sound out since leaving the coffee shop.

"Celina," she said softly, her voice loving and caring, but her eyes stern and determined. "Take it," she said, at last seeming to come to a decision about her own thoughts.

"Take their offer."

And then she turned from me and from the car, making her way back into the house. We were inseparable most of the time, but we returned to Trevor's as if two separate entities, alone. Abbie went straight to her room and began changing, her "date" only a few hours or so away, our meeting taking longer than either of us had anticipated. Abbie hadn't thought it would last longer than the time it took her to tell Mrs. Facelli to go fuck herself, and honestly, neither had I really. What should have taken thirty seconds, ended up taking quite a bit longer. Abbie didn't have much time left to doll herself up for her own meeting, even though with our "friends" we don't stay dressed for too long, and so we parted ways before even entering the house.

I was glad I didn't have to work this night, sex honestly the last thing I wanted to think about. I went straight to Trevor's and my room and locked the door behind me, glad that he wasn't home. I curled myself into a tight ball on the recliner, hugging my knees hard to my chest, and I cried, unable to get all that had just happened out of my head.

"I want a divorce from my husband," Elizabeth Facelli had said... the entire meeting wouldn't stop playing over and over in my mind.

- - -

"I want a divorce from my husband."

The words set me back, and even though Abbie was essentially clueless towards the situation, the words shocked even her. Why would Elizabeth Facelli set a meeting to tell me this? And why did she think any of it involved me? What made her even think that I should give a fuck what happens between her and her family?

"Mrs. Facelli," it was Steven who eventually came to elaborate, I suppose noting our completely dumbfounded confusion. "You see, had filed for a civil annulment to her marriage six years ago," he laid out. "However, her husband refused to grant her one, and had the very existence of the divorce filing destroyed."

"In order for my client to now present a case to the courts to get her marriage annulled without the consent of the other party is to..." Steven went on, before I could not help but interrupt.

"Wait, you're her divorce attorney??" I gasped in surprise, once I realized there was probably nothing this guy knew or could hold over me.

"Yes," Steven returned simply, stammering a little bit with his words before continuing on. "Umm... it to provide evidence of wrongdoing against their traditional wedding vows, such as..."

"Fucking a hooker?" I interjected a bit too loudly, garnering even more attention from the surrounding eyes.

"Umm..." Steven muttered nervously, nodding his head slightly. "Well, yes," he acknowledged. "Evidence of infidelity would suffice..."

"You see, with your help, Mrs. Facelli could..." Steven went on, only to be interrupted by me again. He had a horrible inability to get to the fucking point.

"So you want me to go to court and admit to fucking her husband!?" I almost laughed, wondering how these rich, "educated" folk could be so fucking stupid. "So she could get her happy little divorce, and I could go to jail?" I snickered, having heard enough and standing as though ready to leave as I took Abbie's hand.

"You would not go to jail," Steven assured me, almost desperately rushing out the words to keep me from leaving. "that I can assure you of," he went on, but I couldn't help but not be convinced. Again, lawyers I had found through experience were never really on my side. It was honestly only Abbie, who still remained seated, gazing at the two of them from behind her dark sunglasses silently that kept me from leaving. She was my ride, after all.

"We already have a judge lined up who is willing to hear the case, one who can commit to a sentence of mild rehabilitation, and..." Steven went on, as though any of this was still working to my favor. Again I turned to leave, nearly yanking on Abbie's arm to get her to stand.

"Please, wait," Steven this time sounded to simply beg, seeming more endeared to this case than Mrs. Facelli was herself. What the fucking rich wouldn't do for a buck, I thought. "Monthly check ins with a parole officer, for no more than six months," he laid out, at least for once in his life able to be blunt with his information and get straight to the point. "Please, it would cost you no more than three hours of your life over the next six months."

I stopped, but just for a moment, and not because of anything that he said. It was really just kitten-like curiosity that just had to make me ask.

"What's in it for me?"

"Well, Mrs. Facelli and I have discussed this," Steven began again, still speaking in haste, noting my readiness to simply disappear at any given moment. "And after her case I would be willing to represent you as a client. Pro bono of course," he finished, a hopeful and expectant look upon his face.

"Pro what?" I blinked, not understanding.

"Pro bono," Steven repeated. "It means for free. I would represent your interests in court for free, Miss Marsdan," he went on, and I don't know what made me angrier, the word "free" in response to my question, or the fact that this whole time they had known my real name.

"What the fuck use do I have for a divorce attorney!?" I returned bitterly, feeling my time entirely wasted now. I should have taken Abbie's advice and never come here.

"Um... well, while I am representing Mrs. Facelli in her divorce," Steven tried to explain, though even at this point Abbie could not help but see futility in this entire endeavor, at last rising to her feet to leave with me. "It is more as a favor to a friend," he went on hastily, before we could leave. "You see my actual area of expertise is gender equality law," Steven added hopefully. "You know, women's rights."

Both Abbie and I stopped for a moment and turned. I could see Steven's face grow hopeful, and almost shine in pride as though he had at last convinced us to hear them out. For such an idiot I almost felt bad about popping his little bubble. Yet again it seemed as though I had to spell it out letter by letter to get him to understand.

"Let me rephrase," I snickered rather harshly.

"How much is in it for me?"

Steven sighed. He glanced down to Mrs. Facelli dejectedly, though the emotionless expression upon her face never changed a bit. I don't know why I waited to hear his answer, I could already tell by his face that the amount they were prepared to offer me wouldn't even be worth my time. I knew it because they knew it, yet if I thought I couldn't be surprised, at least they proved me wrong there.

"Any umm..." Steven attempted to choose his words thoughtfully. "Monetary reimbursement for your testimony could be construed as a bribe, and as a result have your testimony deemed as inadmissible," he went on. I wasn't honestly able to understand every word that he said, but I laughed anyway. I understood well enough the essence of what he was saying to know he was essentially saying that I wouldn't see a single cent, even though Mrs. Facelli stood ready to claim half of her husband's fortune.

It made more sense to me now why they couldn't even buy me or Abbie a cup of fucking coffee.

I just couldn't help but laugh. I'm well aware that I can be a bitch sometimes, but I like to think that I'm not often downright cruel. At least I'm aware of the times when I am, and this was one of them. I just boiled so much inside that I couldn't help but mock the two of them as scathingly as I could, maybe for wasting my time, maybe because I just needed to yell, or maybe because I just didn't care about anything anymore.

Maybe it was because I fucked her daughter. Maybe it was because I fucked her son. Maybe it was because I fucked her husband that I figured I might as well tie up loose ends and fuck her too.

"Did you really think this would fucking work?" I laughed my bitchiest, most scathing laugh. "Do I look like the kind of girl who works for free?" I laughed even more, not caring to hide to them anymore that which they already knew I was, a very high priced whore. "What did you think I was just going to help you out of the goodness of my heart?" I laid on the sarcasm just as thick as I could.

Just as I had expected Steven fell silent, as if afraid to even open his mouth.

What I didn't expect, however, was to hear Mrs. Facelli speak, her voice soft and gentle, oddly unthreatening given the situation, and almost... caring... tinged only ever so faintly with a sadness she couldn't fully hide.

"I thought that you might understand," Mrs. Facelli spoke quietly, lowering her sunglasses from her eyes and holding them in her lap. "Feeling trapped," she continued. "Feeling powerless, as though you have no say in the world that shapes your life for you," she went on, a deep well of sadness and loneliness in her voice, and yet her elegant composure never wavering or breaking. "the fear of being so confined, and the despair of one failed attempt after another," Mrs. Facelli sighed softly, slowly rising from her seat as if preparing to leave.

"I suppose I had hoped that we might want the same thing," Mrs. Facelli finished, though she had no reason to, smiling a soft, gentle smile at me before stepping away from her seat.

I don't know why but I froze. This time it was my own turn to stand speechless in the small coffee shop, unable to say a word or even pull away when Mrs. Facelli approached me and placed her hand upon my left temple, her delicate fingers brushing back a few strands of my blonde hair.

In most cases I would have snapped. I've never shown anybody, not even Trevor, not even Abbie. I've always felt it to be ugly, the ugliest part of me, the inch long scar just barely hidden by my hairline, and so I kept it hidden. Mrs. Facelli knew exactly where to look, and the thought made me shiver with a deathly chill of just how much information her lawyer must have dug up on me to know about this...

"It seems to have healed well," Mrs. Facelli smiled at me softly, speaking almost with a motherly concern. Far more than my mother had ever spoken with anyway. She clasped my hand gently and gave it a soft squeeze before taking just a single step back.

"I wish you all the best, Celina," she said, her farewell short, succinct, as elegant as always, and I could not help but feel that it was genuine as well, as much as I wanted to believe otherwise.

And then the two of them were gone.

- - -

And I was still alone within my room, curled up in a teary ball in Trevor's old recliner.

I reached into my back pocket and I pulled out my cell phone, punching in the seven digits I knew by heart and would never forget, yet hadn't used in such a long time. My thumb lingered over the call button for what felt like an eternity, shaking with an anxious fear that nearly felt to be nauseating. For long minutes I tried to gather up the courage to push that one damn button, but every time I thought I had, my body froze again.

And then I realized that I had lost my chance to be brave when the doorknob rustled and I heard the sound of keys jingling on the other side of the door.

I flipped my cellphone shut at the sound, and I frantically tried to wipe away all evidence that I had been crying from off my cheeks, hoping that I had succeeded by the time Trevor stepped through the door.

He was fucked up, on what I did not know, but his eyes were bloodshot, he stumbled in his step, and he could barely hold himself upright. I suppose I should have been grateful that it kept him from noticing how I'm sure my mascara had run. With any luck he would fall straight into bed and pass out immediately, but sadly I've never been overly blessed in the luck department.

He doesn't even greet me. He doesn't even say my name. He merely looks at me and then looks over at the bed, snapping his fingers as though I should understand his wordless command.

Sadly, I know it all too well...

I stand up from my seat on the recliner and I reach down to the button on the side of my skirt, undoing it and letting it fall to my ankles, as Trevor wordlessly demands. I slowly take the hem of my tank top and I lift it up over my head, standing before him in only my bra and my panties. I reach behind my back to unclasp my bra as Trevor approaches me and yanks my panties down roughly, making me step out of them before running his tongue hard up against my pussy, licking me all the way up to my clit, and biting down so hard it makes me scream.

He snaps his fingers once more as he points to the bed, and obediently I climb into it, laying for him on my back as he strips himself of his clothes. It isn't long before his hand is on my chest and his fingers are on my throat, holding me down as he puts his weight on top of me, pinning me to the bed. He kisses me hard and I immediately taste all the liquor and cum from who knows what girl invade my mouth. He wastes no time in spearing me with the entire length of his cock and I can't help but scream out as he viciously and violently thrusts into me over and over, his grip around my neck making it difficult to breathe.

Trevor has always been rough during sex. He gets off on it, but at least when he's sober, or at least not completely fucked out of his mind on drugs and alcohol, there is that part of him that remembers that I'm still a human being. He wraps my neck with his large fingers, squeezing erotically at times, but he always lets me breathe. He always eventually fits his whole length into me, but at least he lets me get wet first to handle it. That part of him gets lost when he's like this, however, and I don't even know if he's aware that I'm alive. As good as I can fake a scream to get guys off, these ones are real as he ravages my pussy, shoving his foot long cock into me deeper and deeper. He gets off on making girls struggle, but it's no longer pretend tonight as I claw and pull at Trevor's hand, trying to loosen his grip enough to draw in a breath as often as I can.

I'm a warm hole for him to fill tonight, a sweet flavor to taste, a place for him to cum. Nothing more.

Despite how violent he fucks me... no, let's be honest, probably because of it, I'm quickly brought to orgasm as he pounds into my cunt. I shudder two more times down the length of Trevor's cock before he finally moans hard and bites down onto my neck viciously, causing me to scream. And then like that it is over. Trevor slumps down almost lifelessly on top of me, and I have to use all of my strength just to roll his weight from off of me. He falls instantly into a deeper sleep and I realize that this is the only time that I actually, truly feel free.

I slide over to the edge of the bed and I reach down to my skirt on the floor, fishing my cell phone out of the back pocket. I flip it open to see the number still waiting on the screen. Still crying, and cum dripping down my thighs all the way to my knees, I walk over to the window of our bedroom. I don't try to gather up the courage anymore to hit the call button, I failed too many times for that already. I simply close my eyes and hit it, jumping in headfirst, not sure really if I'll sink or swim.

It has been nearly two years since we last spoke, two years since I left, speaking words that I can never take back. What will things be like when I hear his voice again? Will he even pick up? I wouldn't be surprised if he hated me. I wouldn't be surprised if he let it ring forever, shunning me from his life as I had so arrogantly done so two years ago.

It surprised me thus how he answers on only the first ring, it scares me even, so much so that I don't even know what to say. Neither does he, for there is nothing but silence for several long moments, until at last one of us finds the courage to speak.

"Celina?" the voice says to me on the other side of the phone line, and instantly I am overcome by a wave of tears I cannot keep from streaming down my face in horrid rivers.

"Celina? What's wrong?" he asks anxiously, caringly, lovingly... fatherly... as if nothing bad had ever happened between us...

"Hi, Dad..." I say meekly, sniffling back my tears, and actually for the first time this day feeling like I might be able to smile.

"What is it, Angel?" he asks me with worry, calling me what he has since as long as I can remember, his angel.

"Dad..." I begin softly, taking several long moments to voice all my words. "I was wondering..." I half whisper, finding my voice lost in my throat. "Do you remember the scar I got on my left temple when I was four...?" I ask of him, and his worry sounds only to increase, but so too does his love.




It's Not Prostitution Ch. 07



"Of course," he replies softly. "It was one of the worst days of my life," he recalls with concern as though it were that very day all over again. "I remember driving to the hospital at a thousand miles per hour when I got the call that you had hurt yourself," he embellishes, but I can't help but laugh a tiny bit.

"You said it happened at a birthday party, right?" I go on, oddly already far less nervous at speaking with him. It truly was as if nothing had ever happened. "Do... do you remember whose?" I ask, frightened only at the answer, and freezing the moment that I hear it.

"Allison Facelli's," my father returns to me, and while I'm shocked into silence, I don't know why I should be. It was the answer I was expecting to hear, after all.

"Haha," my father laughs nostalgically. "I remember being worried to death on the way to the hospital, thinking you were probably so scared and alone and bleeding," he went on, finding the memory amusing. "You never did handle the sight of blood very well," he continued, and I don't know why but I could sense that he was smiling on the other end of the phone.

"But when I finally got there you were as calm as a kitten," he went on. "the doctors had already treated you and you were fast asleep in her arms with your arms around her neck," my dad continued. "It was as though nothing had happened."

Again, I don't know why I ask. I already know the answer, and hearing it I know is only going to make me start crying all over again, but like an idiot I ask anyway.

"Wh... whose?" I whisper out almost voicelessly, and loving my father answers.

"Allison's mother."