What To Do Now 2

When I met my pimp all I could think was: this man is the most intimidating on all of the streets - he can be nice to me on occasion though. We first forged a connection when my boyfriend kicked me out of the house after I decided I no longer wanted to be a Latter Day Saint, causing an existential crisis which forced me to end my relationship that had been founded in faith.

Completely alone with no skills and no money I had no choice but to approach a man in a skull cap smoking a joint, he was clearly a pimp. With nowhere else to turn (my fiancé and I were pooling all of our resources), looking at the distinct possibility of homelessness I asked him what he could do for me. Thus, I was presented with my only choice; become one of MR MAN's bitches; letting him sell my body. I was sat on my rear end on the curb when he approached me and took me into his motel room boudoir and threw some lingerie at me. Telling me I could pay him back with 'that sweet ass' as he termed it. Having never had sex before in my life - as devout servants of christ me and my boyfriend were waiting - I was scared and unsure what to do. So, I lay on my back and raised both my legs in the air offering him entry to my untouched holes. All sense of obligation to the lord totally gone.

Looking down on me he chuckled, tutted and shook his head. 'no no no babygirl you go fuck one of the johns'. Blinking innocently in his direction I said in a mild tone 'who is john?', not certain how to deal with my lack of knowledge when it came to his profession he intoned candidly 'one of the men you are going to fuck...for money'.

'Not you? For.. like quality control?', I couldn't believe the words coming out of my mouth, how I'd changed. 'No, i like to keep it professional. I'll support you in your search for the men but in the boudoir you're on your own'. I looked at him confused 'so how do I get paid?'. Sucking his teeth he told me 'they gonna pay me and I give you a cut', as an economical woman my mind immediately wanted to start the conversation ratios however the stern look in his eyes was slightly threatening. 'you work for it, i manage it. Most pimps would take a slut like you and throw her a thong and some bread. Not me, you got a bra and you gonna get some coins as well. Because I have goodness in my heart.' Passionately he beat the chest that was home to the aforementioned heart.

Bemused, I sat unsure how to respond. Anxieties shot across my mind at the speed of light as the severance from the church had left a huge chasm in my metaphorical valley of trust. The circumstances were not exactly ideal for me to converse about the insurance of equality so I all I did was nod attempting to cover the uncertainties that lay before me in time. He gestured to the bin bags that I'd thrown my clothes into and asked 'do you have make up in there?', I never seemed to speak. Only nod. He points me to the pathetic dingy bathroom 'off you go then babygirl. give me sexy slutty skanky sleazy doll face. I want those lips lined enough that they could direct a cock down that throat from a mile away' my eyes watered in distaste. Filled with resentment at how he so shamelessly ordered me about I put make up on my face and pushed down the tirade of emotion that wanted to posses my body and fall to the floor in fits of rage. Had I been in my own space I would've probably of have smashed the mirror that presented to me my spiritually devalued form. No longer was I a child of god, but, an object to be sold and purchased wearing nothing but underwear and cosmetic.

I wrapped myself in a jumper and shorts to come out and meet him. He looked at my face, smirked, his eyes then scanned my outfit and Mr Man told me what I was expecting to hear yet really did not want to. 'You can't wear that to meet a client', his terms made the whole set up sound rather legitimate despite being extremely illegal, part of that turned me on. 'Have you got a party dress you can wear?'

'Yes' said I 'but it covers my knees, it's mid-length.'

'Change.'

So I did, coming out in it he surveyed me nodding and told me that the man was coming up to pay a top price to take my virginity. Buzzing with nerves I sat on the bed and waited.

Mr Man led him in and introduced me to the customer as Dixie telling him that the pocket between my legs had never been touched. In front of me they discussed how much and determined that for now he would pay 1k for an hours session and £50 per 30 minutes for overtime. Approaching where I was perched on the bed Mr Man kissed my lips and told me to be good.

Within seconds my dress was ripped off and I was having my virgin pussy rinsed out by this paying stranger on an unfamiliar bed. Life really does change fast, this older man - he must of been around mid forties pounded me for everything I was worth. Thrusting my hips back onto his cock I could feel my cunt stretching as we went at it. He kissed me down my neck and proceeded to flip me over (as I was very petite) and shoved his member into my bum stretching my bottom. Pain shot through my spine and I winced telling myself I deserved it, the punishment from his penis was beginning to make me believe in Gods wrath.

After an hour of having his way with my body a timer went off and I was very sweaty. A rush went through my whole being and I trembled in confusion and delight at what had just happened. I thought debasement would make me feel debased, yet my main emotion was shock and wonder at the speed at which my life had been turned upside down.

I was not going back to who I was. This I decided as I lay there watching the paying male dress.