A work of fiction.
April : My Life On The Game
Chapter 3
We'll continue, boo, with 2018...the first few months.
So...flashback to Chapter 2. We left the story with Amber threatening to, effectively, take me out...oh, and the other bitches that my owner runs, if we give her shit.
Martika, as we've read, is in a pretty bad way. My boo's got beaten up by Amber.... broken arm...broken ribs...black eyes and shit. She'll live 'n all but not out on the streets. I'm there, with Carly and Carla, tryin' to fuckin' represent, y'know? We're all with Martika 100%. So we try to put a little order into the street scene.
Donna's got the brothel covered...got a few of the bitches from the street workin' there....so we try to continue as normal.
It's end of March, start of April, and it's cold....fuckin' freezin', boo...snowing even.
Amber's new bitches are out of the streets, lookin' like complete fish out of water. Sarah rarely streetwalks, Candy...just up the road....bitch looks scared...and annoyed....Angela? The bitch from Nottingham? She's never streetwalked either.
Fuckin' amateurs!
There's sneers on both sides....but we don't kick off....Martika has, of course, told us not to...even though there's the occasional pushing of others.....and, of course, the proverbial would get kicked out of us from that fuckin' martial artist bitch that is Amber.
I hear that my sister was chatting to Sarah at some point, pissed off in the snow, and said something along the lines of "Bitch, I hate this cold! Don't they know I fuck best at 21 degrees?"
Certainly getting onto her prostitute lifestyle.
Mark - Martika's husband - really is furious with Amber and, whilst he can't acknowledge anything other than Martika went too far, he makes Amber aware that she has gone too far too. Later, behind mine and my owner's back, we find that he sorted out a deal for Amber's brothel. All for peace, of course, and effectively excommunicates her.
Since then I don't think they have ever been in the same room together and Mark has certainly never talked to Amber directly.
So...big fall out.
Samantha, Martika's mum and also Amber's big sister, is really upset what went down. Obviously worried and scared for Martika's health...and also angry of Martika's part in it all. She sits on the fence....offering support, individually, to each side of this war...but never taking sides.
Boss takes many months to get her shit together but she's doing ok. First night out hooking, even now that it's the summer, for her caused a little anxiety. But, bitch got over it.
Donna's kept all the bitches in line in the brothel and, when Martika goes to check, they're all on point. Likewise me and the street slags.
Martika is a little within herself, although she does hammer away at the coke with me, until she get's that first night out of the way. Then she gradually gets back.
Of course, by this time, Sarah and Angela and all those slags have got their brothel and have stopped working the streets, so she don't have to see 'em...which makes any possible flash points not happen.
But Martika and Mark are tight. They have each other's back. He helps nurse her back to health, I keep everything running smoothly, stepping up with the kids and shit.
Miya, of course, who is Martika's daughter and a good friend of mine, I have to keep that bitch in check. She just numbs herself with lots of vodka and then gets high on cocaine. Sure, 'pot, kettle, black' boo but, fuck, the bitch is too young and hasn't built up her tolerance to that shit.
Me and Miya would go out, every so often. I was allowed by Martika to take some time off every week or so...and, under instruction, to take Miya out, clubbing, and if a guy wanted to bang me then I let him, boo.
So, we did. Of course, in my hooker finery - short, tight leather skirt, vest top, fishnets and shit - and Miya would wear her shit too. Heavily made up so that she looked 18. Of course, she wasn't, but with a fake I.D and my say so, the bitch did pass.
Friday nights....Standing Order Pub....get a few triple Vodka's down us...couple of lines of coke...bit of dancing and laughing....get some guys to buy us drinks....and, invariably, Miya keeping watch out as I was getting banged, doggy style, behind some bins. Whatever. Fun ending to the night.
Martika wanted her to have a friend. I was that friend for her.
For tollerence what I really mean is keeping your shit together. I do it. Donna does it too. That bitch loves the needle....but Miya? She can be stupid around the punters.... and, of course, being anything other than professional is a no, no for Martika.
So, we had either had to sober the shit out of her or shout at her....or give her a slap....or, sometimes, all that shit. Martika never had any qualms over slapping her hard around the face and telling her to straighten up.
Same with the rest of us, but during this time, we had all got closer and wanted to achieve for our boss. Martika was my owner, of course. Not sure how Candy was.....a slave without an owner...how that affected her mentally or emotionally...and, frankly, I don't give a shit, boo.
That bitch was kicked to the curb.
Me? Glad that my owner was back, boo. It was like the new 'old' team.
We all pulled together. Worked hard. Fucked a shitload of punters and earned coin.
I'd take on any fucker, boo...of course, making sure they used rubbers....but, shit...boy or girl, I fucked it.
Martika had put on some weight in the meantime...unable to exercise and shit...and, I guess, to make me pay - however it worked out that it was my fault all this shit went down, I have no idea, boo - she got me to do the shit too.
2 fuckin' months, boo...this bloody HIIT shit....some super trainer called Shaun T..... nearly killed me.. lost weight...nearly had a heart attack, what with all the coke I do....and then, thankfully, she was done with that and I had my regular daily routine.
Which was...looking after the kids.....and house stuff.
Miya hooked, of course, but was still at school, so she did shit either after school or at weekends. Like I said, bitch loved getting fucked up. She wanted to be just like her mum used to be.
Jasmin...Jas was a couple of years younger than Miya...but looked up to her big sister. Jas was of black descent...just like me....either African or Jamaican. Martika had no idea who knocked her up. Frankly, my owner never cared!
But Jas was lovely. Quieter than her older sister. The kind that had to apply herself at school, yknow? Miya had the natural talent but was lazy.
Jas wasn't involved in the lifestyle....not just yet, anyways.
Martika was nervous, first night back. I recall her hand shaking as she was trying to put on her eyeliner. She got her shit together...squeezed herself into those PVC trousers and tight top...and hit the streets, with me in tow.
There were hugs from the 'band of bitches', glad that she was back out there. Martika thanked them, one and all. It was pretty odd to see; Sure, I'm - like - reverential to the bitch, but that's 'cos she's my owner, but the other girls? Like a returning rock star.
Highly impressive....and highly impressed on how she conducted herself; calm (appearances anyways, boo) and determined.
We get to work.
Martika just up the street a bit from me....further up, Gemma.....the traffic is beginning to come.
I'm the first picked up. Car driver gently pulls up by my side....winds down the window. It's Rick. One of very few punters I know by name.
I only know that 'cos, after 3 years now, he keeps tellin' me. Others? Very few I know. Like I've said before, boo...I don't care. I prefer not knowing...
Just another thing that gets me off.
Rick pays, I drop my cigarette butt to the ground, put my boot on it and wander around the bonnet of the car before getting in. Seatbelt on, cash put in handbag and off we drive.
It's still light but I can see that shapely arse of Felicity going up and down on the punter across the way, some 10 metres away. Bitch has started early.
Seat belt off. Jacket off. Rick's trousers an' boxers are down as I reach for his prick....not much needed to stroke it into existence...and then blow on a rubber.
I get in the back, bridge....and pull up my skirt....Rick gets on top and gently eases himself inside me. I focus on my bent knees and big ass heeled boots....silver chains around them....they look sweet, boo. Punter's love 'em. They earn me a shitload of coin.
Rick is bangin' away at my groin...one arm at my hip....the other...on my shoulder.... pulling himself into me...deeper and deeper...with every in thrust.
He's muttering under his breath....almost inaudible...I keep encouraging him on.
He changes tact...changes hand position...numerous times....ending up with both hands around my shoulders. Mine remain on his lower back....stroking.... holding... caressing....as he gets in the groove.
I'm getting breathless....he's getting breathless.
The gentle sounds...the heady mix...of my perfume....the smell of sex...the creak of my leather skirt on his leather seats...the jangling of bangles...bracelets...pendants...the moans...groans...panting...the coda of some familiar Lionel Richie tune on the radio...
It's all broken by the aggressive release and conclusion to the sex act.....the throbbing....the spurting....the halting....and then the sticky pulling out.
"That rubber is filled, boo!" I breathlessly exclaim, looking down my body as he pulls out. I think I'm grinning...as he echo's that grin to me.
"As usual, April. As usual. I love cuming in you. I wished I could cum inside you..." he sighs, moving his robust frame off of my body.
"Ah, you know boo that my pimp don't allow that shit. Don't want me knocked up. Y'know? Don't spoil the moment..."
He nods as he removes the semi filled rubber and throws it out the window.
I catch a glance, out that window. Felicity and her punter are just driving off.
I pull up my red leather mini, put on my jacket and glide myself back into that passenger's seat again, creaking as I get myself comfortable. Seatbelt on, we drive back. Quick kiss on the cheek, a "Thank you for fucking me, boo..", and I'm out, pulling a cigarette from the packet as I shut his car door.
Cigarette between my lips and I light up...nodding towards Martika as she, just ahead of me, comes out of the shadows of the alleyway with her punter....I inhale deeply.... then...fingers to cigarette....snap the cigarette from my lips, blowing the excess smoke.... perfect cone....out into the night.