Lennie and Samantha

Thanks for all comments so far, and your support reading this story. I surmised that the rating on the previous part would take a hit, but felt it was necessary to understand how Cindy became who she is. I did read your comments and realized I went overboard on the dark scenes. It should have been in the Non-consensual section as well. A lot was changed in this chapter, taking out most (though not all) of the darkness in the previous chapter. What's left is the minimum to keep the story intact. I also combined two chapters to get the story moving faster.

Like I mentioned at the beginning, this is my first story, I've had no editor to bounce ideas or story flow off of, and I'm striving to improve my writing skills. Please continue with your comments, thanks.

****

Tears openly fell from Lennie's eyes. The story was difficult to listen to.

Cindy realized she was staring off into space as she related her story, then looked as if her mind returned from somewhere else. She made eye contact with Lennie, returning mentally to the present from that horrible place so long ago.

"And then I had my first client. It was one of Dwayne's regular customers and he wanted it to be a gentle beginning. The guy actually treated me kindly. It was some white guy about 50 who was bald and fat. I just gave him a blowjob and then got on top of him and rode him for a few minutes until he came in his condom. Then another guy, and another. I did eight guys on my first day. At first, Taylor was in the room while I performed, but after a while men would come to Dwayne's condo when she wasn't there. I had to make sure they gave me the correct amount of money Taylor told me to charge. One time I didn't count correctly and when Dwayne found out the next day, he beat me again."

Hearing about the abuse was difficult for Lennie to fathom. 'Imagine how hard it was to actually take it', he thought.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry you went through that." He paused for a while and said, "Nobody should be abused like he did to you. I'm so, so sorry for you", he repeated.

She returned to the story how she became what she now was.

"Maybe a quarter of them were blow jobs only, and maybe another quarter of them had my ass as will as my pussy. I made over $6,000 in the first week. Of course it wasn't mine, and I did some quick math. If I could continue to make 6 grand a week, that means I would pay him back in seven months, not a year and a half."

"I was still 21 years old for a few more weeks. It was a lot of money to me. And the sex with clients wasn't that much different than what my uncle had done to me, mostly." The look on her face noticeably darkened as she said the last sentence. She glanced at Lennie, then looked down to the floor, closing her eyes and remembering more than she wanted.

After a long pause, Cindy opened her eyes again.

"So that's how I became a whore. Dwayne spent three days teaching me how to be a prostitute. Jerome violently raped me. Taylor was his top girl and was with or near me any time men were around, making sure I did what Dwayne or the men wanted. He changed my birth control to an implant, which lessened the number of days I was on my period. More days to sell me, you know. I learned how to strip the way men want it to get them hot for my body, lapdances, how to give a good blowjob, how to have intercourse in different positions, and the worst, taking a cock in my ass. He set everything up."

"At first it was mostly businessmen visiting Seattle for a night or two, looking for a whore to entertain them or later on, an escort to accompany them to dinner or an event. But that didn't last too long." There was no smile on her face.

"After a while it got more graphic and nasty. Dwayne started setting me up with two guys at the same time. Then three guys. Many were black. So many of them simply hated white people. They would call me cracker bitch, and yelling stuff like "I'm taking my reparations up your ass, whore!" I'd never experienced that before, being hated because of my race. It was so degrading, and sometimes they hurt me pretty bad. After a while I was able to disconnect emotionally when I was working. Then, maybe two months in, I started doing bachelor parties. I would do one nearly every Friday night or every Saturday night. Sometimes back to back nights. There were usually at least six or up to a dozen guys, sometimes a lot more. If there were, say twenty guys or so, Taylor or Amber or another girl of Dwayne's would be there too." She paused for a moment, remembering what had happened long ago.

As she told her story, the normally positive look on her face was gone. Instead, she kept looking at the floor, back at Lennie with a disturbing and hollow look for a few seconds, and then when Lennie looked in her eyes, would turn away to stare at the floor again. These memories were painful. She continued.

"I was completely ashamed of myself. I had no friends, the only women I even talked with were other whores that Dwayne owned. I had dropped out of school and it really hurt not to be in class any more. I was owned by Dwayne to provide sex to men. We would do anything he told us. I had no free will. And it hurt, it was painful, at least until I got used to it. During the sex, I just remembered my dad's face and his operation being successful."

"By now I was making on average over ten thousand a week, so I mentioned to Dwayne that I was making such good money that I would be paying him back in a lot less time than a year and a half. I was working 70 to 80 hours a week, the rest of the time was for sleeping. I had no life. I went to Dwayne and said that I had already made over $60,000 for him and at this rate, he would be paid back in another nine or ten weeks, because I included expenses of mine in that. He just stared at me and laughed."

"He yelled, 'You stupid whore. I don't give a shit about you breaking even. Do you think I run a charity ward?

Fuck

you're dumb. Eighteen months and not a day less, you stupid cunt.'"

She paused for a moment to control her emotions and gather her thoughts. She hadn't actually spoken to anyone about her starting days in many years except to Lori or her therapist and found it harder to talk than she thought she would.

"The bachelor parties continued, getting cruder by the week. I would commonly have sex with three guys at once. It's called being airtight." She still couldn't look at him directly, instead staring at the floor. After a long pause, she let out a deep sigh. Lennie felt horrible listening to her story but she was proffering it up, like a confession. He wasn't going to stop her.

"And then, believe it or not, it even got worse. Months later, Dwayne flew me to Los Angeles and I was forced to start making porn movies. I made about 40 scenes, maybe more. I didn't know anybody except for one man that Dwayne said I have to do whatever he told me. It was about three weeks of work. I'd also have to have sex with the camera man and the sound man after the shooting was done. A few times I would also have sex with the makeup lady. Dwayne got paid for me making those movies."

She took a long breath, paused, and continued her story.

"A couple of weeks after I returned, Taylor told me that I'm a "star". I watched those movies as they were posted on internet sites a few weeks later. They weren't really movies but rather just sex scenes that lasted about a half hour or a bit more. Dwayne would send links to those movies to customers so he could sell me for more money. I was a "porn star" and he sold me that way so he could get more for me."

She paused for a moment and then stood up. "I'll be back in a minute, I have something to show you." She walked down the hall and into her bedroom. Lennie stared at her naked, gorgeous body. Her ass and legs were breathtaking.

After the sound of a couple of drawers opening and closing from her office, she returned and sat back down next to Lennie. She held a small, spiral bound notebook and handed it to him. He opened it.

Each line had a string of coded characters with commas in-between. Lennie started deciphering it. The first was g or c. Hmm, girl or customer. After the comma the next letter was w, b, l, a, or o. Lennie guessed that was their race, White, Black, Latino, Asian, or other. The next was o, v, a. Oral? Vaginal? Anal? The next were two numbers. The first was a random two-digit number, anything from 18 to 73. The next was a larger number, at least 100, but most were at least 300, some 1,000 or more. The first one must have been their age, the next must have been how much they were charged.

"When I started, I had kept track of how many times men had sex with me. I recorded their race, age, the sex acts I performed, and the amount they paid. This is the spiral-bound notebook that I hid from Dwayne."

Lennie looked at it, thinking that for each line the gorgeous woman next to him performed a degrading sex act. He turned to the back and saw a big number at the end that was underlined twice, 1,540.

"It was 1,540 transactions. I serviced 1,540 men with my body. Five or six Johns a day, six or seven days a week. And at least one dozen-or-so-man gangbang every weekend. In a single year. That's the original spiral notebook."

She stopped and shuddered with her memories coming back, as it was the first time she had looked at it in years.

Cindy started repeating herself and got emotional but carried on with the story.

"In the last four months of my commitment after the porn shoots, Dwayne got two new girls. I had to help him turn them out and force them to do what I was doing. I had to watch and help Dwayne break them in like Taylor did to me. Jerome showed up and did to them what he did to me. Both of them, one at a time. The other one was in a back room and had to listen to the slapping and screaming happen to the first girl, so it was still a surprise what he did to her."

The look on her face was one of sadness as she recalled her horrible memories.

"They were both barely eighteen Lennie, one still in high school and one that had dropped out. I had to take them on dates with me and made them do all the sex acts. If they refused anything I had to tell Dwayne and he beat them with his belt. Then he would beat me in front of the girls, blaming them that he had to beat me. That happened at least four or five times, until the girls figured out the beatings were guaranteed if they didn't follow orders. I used a lot of makeup to cover my bruises. And those poor girls." Cindy paused, closed her eyes in remembrance, and slowly shook her head.

"They were so innocent until Dwayne got his hooks into them. A few weeks later, one of the girls killed herself. I found her in his apartment when I got back from a trick. She was naked in the bathtub, her wrists slashed and an empty bottle of sleeping pills on the floor. The pills had her mom's name on the bottle, she stole them from her. The bath water was beet red and room temperature. Her body was ghost-white and cold. She was just laying there, her skin was this ominous pale white, the look on her face in complete peace."

She started sniffling and her body shuddered while taking a deep breath. She paused for a long while before talking again.

"I called Dwayne and he showed up maybe a half-hour later. He made a phone call and in an hour, some men showed up and her body and every bit of evidence about her was gone, like she never existed."

Lennie just stared at her. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. His mouth gaped open, not knowing what to say.

"But the worst was still yet to come. Dwayne had a new scam. He would force me to pick up married men and businessmen that he had already identified somehow as marks that could be blackmailed with sex. I'd come on to them at a bar, lie to them, and get them to take me back to my hotel room and get them to fuck me. Sometimes we would go to their room, Dwayne always told us girls where we needed to go to perform. I was supposed to get as nasty as a whore could, making it as salacious as possible. We would get them to say stupid stuff like 'my boss is a dumb shit', or 'my wife is a stupid frigid cunt', stuff they would be particularly ashamed of when they saw it on video."

"What they didn't know was there were hidden cameras already set up. Dwayne had this guy who set up all kinds of electronic recording devices, and they were blackmailed." She paused as if she couldn't speak the words, but finally continued.

"Dwayne made more money off of his blackmail scheme than his girls getting turned out whoring. The unsuspecting marks all had a lot to lose if they got turned into their wives or the companies they worked for. And that was when my world was completely upended."

Lennie saw she was beginning to shake as tears continued rolling down her face. How could this get any worse? She finally took a deep breath and continued.

"This scheme was making Dwayne a lot of money, like I said. Taylor was in on it too, getting four or five guys a week sometimes, even better than me. Amber refused to do it because she said she couldn't live with herself, blackmailing innocent married men like that who were alone, horny, and just wanted a little company. She got away with not doing it because she had a different arrangement with Dwayne." Lennie absentmindedly nodded.

"He had someone, I think in the hotel business, that identified these men. The slimy guy would set up the cameras before, and take them away after. All of this sex happened in two different hotels is why I think that. They were two of the most expensive hotels in Seattle, so the men had money. And no, it wasn't the Four Seasons where we first met."

She looked up and gave Lennie a weak but honest smile for a few moments as her thick eyelashes fluttered at him, then resumed.

"He would make easily $20,000 or more off each mark, some of them I think it was as much as $50,000. Somehow Dwayne was able to run a credit check on each one and figure out how deep their pockets were. Five to ten men a week, each paying 20 to 50 thousand in hush money. It averaged at least a couple hundred grand a week or more. One week he cleared almost a half-million. If they didn't pay in cash, their wives or employers would see the tape. They all paid up. But one day, shit hit the fan for Dwayne and I."

She paused and looked in Lennie's eyes. Pain showed in each of their faces for different reasons. One was because of hearing the story for the first time. The other because it was so difficult to recall it once again.

"One of the guys I had set up and blackmailed had found me a couple of months later after conning another guy. After I was done with the most recent guy I had a couple of drinks in the bar downstairs, mainly to try to forget what I had done. He waited for me to leave the hotel bar and snuck up behind me, sticking a pistol in my back while grabbing me. He told me I would bring him Dwayne, or he would kill me. I was all alone on the street and it was well after midnight. I didn't have a choice."

Lennie moved over to the couch and wrapped his arm around her shoulders in support. She was truly shaking now, her voice unsteady. In her mind, she could still feel the cold steel of the pistol pressed against her neck.

"He took me to a cheap hotel room up on Aurora Avenue North and made me call Dwayne."

Aurora Avenue North was also the track where the low-level street whores worked and many seedy hotels were located.

"He told me to tell Dwayne a guy was in my room and was hitting me. The guy slapped me on the face holding the phone near my mouth, so the slaps were loud and very real. I yelled the hotel name and the room number and screamed at him to save me like I was ordered and then he hung up."

"I was told to sit at the small table in the back of the room. He tied me up completely naked with a gag, put a pillow case over my head, and I sat and waited. I couldn't warn Dwayne if I tried. Anyway, he kept the door ajar, expecting Dwayne to crash in and take charge." A tear fell down Lennie's cheek. Her pain was obvious and was affecting him more than he first suspected it would.

"Dwayne showed up and crashed the door like the kidnapper expected. But the kidnapper stood in the bathroom with the light off and when Dwayne ran by, hit him in the head with a gun and knocked him unconscious. He zip tied him up on the floor and then kicked him a dozen times in the head, face and mid-section with stiff, leather-soled shoes." She was somehow regaining energy as the story continued.

"He kept yelling at him, saying things like "this will teach you not to fuck with me, you piece of shit!", and stuff like that. He called Dwayne a dumb asshole a half dozen times as he continued to kick him in the head and gut. Dwayne's head and face were bloody. Then he untied me, pulled off the pillow case from my head and told me to get down on my knees above him. I was stark naked. I still had the gag in my mouth and couldn't speak. He was pointing that pistol at my face. I was trembling. He pulled out a second gun and told me to take it and point it right behind Dwayne's ear, touching his skull with it. He then said there was only one bullet in it and I have ten seconds to pull the trigger, or he would kill us both."

Cindy paused, starting to cry openly and looked directly into Lennie's eyes, the fear of that night alive in her recollection. She began her final confession.

"He pointed his gun right in my face, Lennie, and slowly started counting down from ten. Dwayne was awake by now, gagged, but we could hear him screaming "NO! NO!". The man looked right at me and coldly said "Listen you whore, if you hear the number one, I'll shoot you. You'll be dead before you hear zero. Asshole is dead regardless, the only choice you have is if you want to live or die." So when I heard the number "two", I squeezed the trigger and shot Dwayne. The sound was deafening in that little old motel room, the blood gushed from behind his ear. It was horrible. Some spattered on my hands, arms and face. He wouldn't let me clean up. He immediately took my now empty gun and told me to get dressed and leave before the cops came."

She was shaking. "I

murdered

him, Lennie. I shot and killed another human being."

Cindy was now sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. Her body went limp, leaning against Lennie's. For the first time in her life, she confessed her most horrible secret to another person.

Lennie held her and let her cry for a long, long time. After she slowed down and was able to breathe, he held her and kissed her on the cheek. She slowly regained her composure.

"When I left, I was able to grab Dwayne's phone when the guy wasn't looking, leaving it off for a week. When I turned it back on, it was full of messages and the calls came in incessantly. I started taking dates to survive Not only that, but Dwayne's other girls kept calling the number, too. I knew most of them, they were out of money and looking for work. Nobody knew what had happened to Dwayne. I set up most of Dwayne's girls with dates and took some of their money for the connection. That made me a pimp."

Lennie just nodded. This wasn't the time to disagree with her, only listen.

"I've never told any one else that story, except for Lori and my therapist. And that was years later. In fact, nobody knows I killed Dwayne. My therapist knew I was holding something back but I couldn't tell her because I think they are required to report first-degree felonies to the cops. Lori or Taylor still have no idea." Lennie looked in her reddened eyes as he tightly held her.

"Now you know it all. I'm a whore, a porn actress, a pimp, and a murderer." She looked drained, her body limp, the look on her face sad, emotionless. Her confession about her dark past was complete.