After the dick check, payment, and shower (another thing Eric complained about), he reentered the bedroom and found an anxious, smiling Lindsay seated on the edge of the bed. She flaunted a frilly little chemise, stockings, and modest high heels, and looked like an angel on a mercy mission from Suck City. “Hi, baby. I’ve been waiting for you.” She flashed him a pearly smile. “What would you like me to do first?”
“How about you shut your fucking mouth – I’m not paying you to talk – get down on your knees, and do your job? Blow me, you overpriced whore.”
Lindsay recoiled as if she had been slapped. Although she had become more accepting of that word in recent times, she reverted to when Jim took her to the sheriff’s station and the hag behind the desk called her a whore. Lindsay came close to having an outward reaction again, but dropped to her knees, rolled a condom on to Eric’s cock, and offered a sterile, unenthusiastic blowjob.
How was this possible? Lindsay’s blonde head bobbed back and forth as she kept both hands on the base of Eric’s shaft, her eyes closed, yet she experienced no pleasure and was crying inside. I love sucking cock more than anything, but I don’t want to be with this horrible man right now. She didn’t understand what was happening, or why. How can I feel no emotion or joy sucking dick? What did I do wrong? Why is he being so hateful?
I wanna be back home in Citronelle with Mom, Dad, my sisters, and all my friends.
“You like cleanin’ that cock, don’t you?” Eric put his hand on the back of Lindsay’s head and applied pressure, urging her to go faster. “It’s all girls like you are good for.” He reached down, lifted the hem of her chemise up and over her head, and tossed it elsewhere. “How many guys have you fucked today, whore? Am I number five? Ten?”
Lindsay kept quiet but stayed busy cocksucking. A growing rage surged through her veins. Keep it together. I have to get through this.
“This was a five-hundred-dollar mistake,” he said at another point. “You’re doing it all wrong.”
“You’re not even any good at this. You should be fired.”
“No, do it like this … No, do this … No, try this … Dumb, stupid girl; you’re all gums!” Each word from his lips felt like a thorn digging into Lindsay’s heart.
Eric made her crawl on her hands and knees over to the recliner, where he took a seat and received another round of fellatio. Lindsay tried responding to one of his mean quips this time, but he jammed his hand over her mouth and said, “Shhhhh. Every time you talk, it goes down.”
Lindsay was soon taken back to the bed where she got fucked in the missionary position and on her side, only to sink further into bleak despair. Her face was tight, an uncomfortable scowl, as she glared at him and continued to endure his insults.
“If I catch a disease from you, rest assured, I’m pressing charges.”
The hour-long session ended with Lindsay on her hands and knees and Eric fucking her as hard as possible. Nothing positive came from this encounter, no satisfaction. Heat licked Lindsay’s skin and her limbs vibrated. I want to do terrible things to this man! She was expressionless because Eric did nothing but degrade and belittle her from start to finish.
“I didn’t even nut off. I’m complaining to your pimp boss; I demand a refund. Hopefully, he beats the shit out of you later as a punishment. You deserve it.”
For such a friendly, small-town girl who radiated positive energy at all times, no one had ever treated Lindsay this way. Did making me feel worthless get him off? What other reason could there be for the way he acted? I know I’m not a bad fuck. No one has ever complained, including Sammy. He said I was the best he’s ever had.
“Jim was outside your room with his hand on the doorknob for at least half the party, if not three-quarters of it,” Kenzie said. “He was waiting for you to object to anything that guy did, tell him no, and was gonna burst in and toss his ass out onto the street if he didn’t listen to you. It blew Jim away you never objected to anything Eric said or how he treated you.”
Lindsay picked at her fingernails and brought a knee up to her chest. “Colt says the customer is always right and I must please him or her at all costs.” She cast her eyes to the side, away from Kenzie, and they clouded up.
“Not customers like him!”
Someone who didn’t know Kenzie may think she was a pushover because of her sweet, good-natured personality, but Lindsay knew better. Kenzie was straightforward and not afraid to stand up for herself. I wish I was strong like you. You remind me of Pamela.
“I still cannot believe you wanted to party with him. With the attitude he had during negotiations, I would’ve told him no.” Kenzie squinted against the sun. “So would every other girl here. But you were hellbent on fucking him, so I kept negotiating. Money, money, I know … you want it. We all do.”
Lindsay ground her teeth, the shame and humiliation digging into her like sharp claws. “I’ll remember that for next time, I guess.” When the ordeal was over and Eric left, Lindsay trudged off to the washroom and took a long, hot shower. The water seared her skin until it became a bright pink, and she contemplated calling her mother and begging her to come rescue her and take her back to California but decided against it. I can’t. That’s no longer an option. I burned that bridge already.
Kenzie again leaned back in the rocking chair and got more comfortable. “That guy is a prime example of why Jim, Colt, the bartenders at night … someone is always listening in during our negotiations and usually the party itself via surveillance. Jim was on red alert the moment Eric trudged his way in. He said he almost asked him to leave a few minutes after he showed up.”
“I wish he did.” Being with Eric was a nightmare and Lindsay wondered if she’d ever recover from it. I won’t be able to handle another party like that again. I’ll press the panic button next time and the cops can come for all I care, guns-a-blazin’. I refuse to be treated like trash.
“The alternative to working in a brothel is street hooking. Meeting some random guy in a casino, for example, going up to his hotel room, and him fucking you up something fierce if things don’t go right. There’s no Jim, no Colt to protect you, and maybe you wind up in the hospital. Or worse.” Lindsay froze at the seriousness in Kenzie’s voice. “But here, you’re safe. No one is going to harm you. Ten to twelve employees are in the house at all times, and we all look out for one another.”
I can’t go home. Not now, not anymore. Things would never be the same once Lindsay fessed up to her family about what she had done here. Mom and Dad would disown me! I need to tough it out and save some cheddar for the future. Last night was awful, but according to what she’d just heard, it could have been much worse. Eric didn’t assault or attack me, at least.
“I’ll never turn tricks outside the house. Not in a million years.” Kenzie put her sunglasses back on and swept her dark hair away with both hands. “Lots of girls do, even ones working here now. Me? I enjoy the feeling of safety the brothel provides and, more importantly, I enjoy my freedom. I don’t want to go to jail.”
“Does Pamela … turn tricks?” Lindsay lowered her voice and leaned in closer. “Illegally?”
“Pamela? Turning tricks? On the street, you mean? No way.” Kenzie offered a bemused smile. “She owns the brothel along with Colt and an arrest for solicitation would not only put an end to her career, but it would also be the death knell for the brothel as well. City council wouldn’t hesitate to revoke its license. Colt and Pamela, they’d be out of business forever.”
Lindsay nodded, having already known that. Two nights ago, though, she had a dream that she and Pamela worked the streets of Vegas as a duo and fucked every guy willing to pay their exorbitant fee. When it was all said and done, I was writhing around on the bed, and Pamela showered me in hundred-dollar bills!
“Get that guy out of your mind. You’ll never see him again. Just call it a learning experience, okay?”
Lindsay crossed her arms, her muscles twitching. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”
“Good, that’s my girl. Don’t. Move on.”
“I don’t know if Aaliyah likes me.” Changing topics, Lindsay had a slack expression and pointed way out yonder toward Aaliyah, the African American stunner, who was doing Pilates in the far corner of the yard. A fitness enthusiast, twenty-eight-year-old Aaliyah could be found exercising both morning and evening in the backyard unless she was with a customer. She would prefer to do her workout regime at Flagstone Fitness or go for a jog around the block but didn’t want to take the chance with Sheriff Spaeth and his deputy watchdogs lurking at every corner.
“I don’t know what I did wrong to her. Aaliyah, I mean.” Unequipped to deal with conflict, Lindsay tapped her foot on the ground. “I said hello to her this morning, and she gave me the meanest, nastiest look. I was like, what the hell? Do you know if she’s mad at me? And if so, for what?”
“No idea,” Kenzie lied.
Aaliyah threw a tantrum in front of Scarlett, Sahara, Riley, and Nicolette last evening after Eric chose Lindsay from the lineup. Kenzie heard about it afterward and knew word would soon trickle down to Colt and Pamela (if it hadn’t already). Jim was aware of the situation too.
“I am sick and tired of that little brat!” Aaliyah said. “Eighteen and comes in here and thinks she runs the fucking joint. Believes every customer should choose her during every lineup like she’s somehow better than us. Bullshit! Scampers off and pouts in the corner like a child when she gets passed over. Entitled, self-centered little cunt. Thinks everything is all about her. Her mommy and daddy probably spoon-fed her and gave her everything she ever wanted until the day she moved out. Well, guess what, girlfriend? Things aren’t that way in the real world. Time to fucking grow up!”
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