Companion: the Uber for Sex

It was like Uber, except for renting women. Well, men too, in principle -- but in practice it was mostly women selling their services, to the surprise of nobody.

Prostitution had been legalized only a few months earlier, and liberals and progressives everywhere celebrated. But I wonder if people really thought through what the modern form of prostitution would look like. Prostitution was no longer confined to unsavory street corners and red light districts -- it was ubiquitously available through the digital world. In particular, it didn't take long for somebody to make an app to unite ladies of the night with eager Johns. "Companion", it was elegantly called. The Uber for sex.

There were a few different ways to use the app, but they all started with creating a profile. This was probably the most terrifying part -- putting your face, or more if you wished, out there for the world to see. Once your profile was made, you had a choice: did you want customers to come to you, were you willing to go to them, or were you open to both? Strict identification requirements for Johns and tracking features built into the app made the ordeal a surprisingly safe affair. That's not to say things never went wrong, including a few high-profile cases -- but using Companion to sell your body was surprisingly and overwhelmingly safe.

I should probably tell you about myself, and where I fit into this story. My name is Luke -- early 30s male who, after some bad life choices, has very little by way of financial security. I won't bore you with the details, but I'm overeducated, and woefully underemployed. The one thing in my life that's going well is my beautiful wife Rachel, late 20s, and a stunner.

As you might have guessed, Rachel very much lies at the center of the story, so I'll tell you a bit more about her. Like me, Rachel made the same bad life choices, and she too is overeducated and underemployed. She's also gorgeous. Slender and petite, standing just over 5 feet tall, but with full C-cup breasts and a face that's cute as a button. She's skinny, but has it where it counts -- including a firm, round ass. She's gorgeous, and I feel lucky to have her, knowing as I do that most men would kill for even just one night with her. Which brings us, of course, to the present dilemma.

Rachel and I couldn't afford to pay the rent. I had recently graduated, and was staring down the abyss of unemployment. We started off with a small nest egg amassed while finishing my degree -- but after 6 months without work, we had burned through this. If I had planned ahead, I would've taken a job -- any job -- to make ends meet. But instead I just spent all of my time trying to find work in my field, optimistic that if I just worked hard enough, I would find something -- anything. But this proved as pointless as it was frustrating. Faced with the reality of being unable to keep a roof above our heads, Rachel and I started having a discussion about how we could make ends meet. Following a lengthy, pointless brainstorming session that did nothing but drive home how fucked we were, our discussion inevitably turned to Companion.

Rachel looked at me, meekly. "We could always... You know."

"Could what?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Companion." She said softly. "Sarah does it sometimes, and it pays really well."

I was floored. Doubly so, because our friend Sarah always seemed so prim and proper, and I would never have guessed she was whoring herself out to pay the bills. But any surprise I might have felt at this revelation was immediately drowned out by the realization that my wife -- my sweet, faithful, loving wife -- was proposing to do exactly the same thing. To sell her body for money.

I got mad, and I must have raised my voice. "Are you kidding me?"

"Have you got a better idea?" She demanded.

I had to admit, I didn't. The situation was dire. The management company we rented our apartment from had clear policies for eviction, and we had exhausted all our lifelines. Our credit cards were maxed out, nobody would lend us any more money, and we had already pawned our apartment down to the bare essentials. We were running out of options.

"Look, no, but -- you can't be serious. You'd... You'd..." I protested.

"I'd what?" She asked indignantly. "Be a whore?"

I looked away, but then returned to meet her gaze, angrily. "Yes. You would. Is that what you want?"

Rachel glared at me, one part anger, one part looking like she wanted to cry. I knew I had gone too far.

Companion was a popular app, and it was being used more and more by women needing to make ends meet -- especially in poor neighbourhoods, or near colleges. But it's not like social stigmas disappear overnight, or perhaps would ever disappear, in this case. Some women didn't care, and could make a tidy and discreet profit. But virtually nobody admitted to using the app, and prostitution remained a deeply shameful thing for both sellers and buyers. The existence of a fancy app did little to change this. It was a shameful, immodest proposal, but I knew it was one Rachel didn't make lightly. She was very sexually conservative, and to be honest, I couldn't believe she was even considering it.

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." I sighed.

"You think I want this?" She demanded. "To sell my body to the highest bidder?"

"Of course not." I replied sincerely. "But that's why -- that's why we can't do this. I could never ask you to do this for us."

She stared at me, defiant but forlorn. "Then what?" She demanded. "What are we going to do? Live on the streets?"

I went and embraced her, hugging her tightly and stroking her hair. "I don't know, love. But not this. Not this."

She looked up at me, frustration in her eyes. "That's great, Luke. But I'm not hearing a plan."

"We'll figure something out." I replied with certainty, convincing myself, though probably not Rachel. I didn't know what to do, but I knew this wasn't an option.

Rachel sighed. "And what if we don't?"

"We will. We've still got some stuff we can sell..." I said, looking around. But the more I took in our sorry apartment, the more I realized there wasn't much left to pawn.

Rachel rightly ignored the suggestion. "Look, this really isn't that big a deal. So I give a few horny old men blowjobs or something. It'll take a few hours, and you can get a job doing something this month so we never have to do it again."

I couldn't believe she was even considering this, and felt twinges of both jealousy and shame. "Not a big deal, huh? How would you feel if I went and fucked other women?"

"How do you think I feel?" Rachel demanded. "You think I'm doing this for fun?"

"Answer the question." I retorted.

"Yeah, that would suck." Rachel admitted. "But if that's what it took to keep the roof above our heads, I'd suck it up."

"We're not doing this." I declared. "We still have time -- just give me a chance. I'll think of something."

Rachel sighed, exasperated. "Okay fine. I don't want to do this either, and if you figure something out, great. But the deadline is coming up soon, and if we don't do something, we're out a home."

"I'll figure something out. Just have faith." I insisted.

But I knew she was right.

******

We had a week to come up with a better plan, including for me to find some kind of employment, and we agreed that we wouldn't do anything until we absolutely had to. Sadly, a few days had passed, and we weren't making any progress. After a long day of frustrated job applications, Rachel and I lay in our bed together, forlorn but strangely calm. We were both in our sleeping attire -- which basically just meant our underwear. Her head was resting on my chest, and I held her, lovingly.

"Were you serious about Sarah?" I asked, more making conversation than having any real intentions.

Rachel looked up at me, doe eyed. "I was shocked too. She always seemed like such a proper girl... But yeah, she's doing it."

"Wow." I laughed. Sarah was gorgeous, and I'd fantasized about her on more than one occasion. "Maybe I should install that app after all."

Rachel punched me on the arm, playfully, but hard. "What are you saying?" She demanded.

"Nothing!" I retreated. "You're the only girl for me."

Rachel smiled, but then frowned, suddenly. "You know you're the only man for me too, right?"

"I know, love." I replied.

A strained silence filled the air. It was obvious what was on both of our minds, but neither of us really wanted to talk about it. Rachel was the one to speak up first.

"It just sounds so... gross. Can you imagine just letting anyone fuck you, as long as they have enough money? That's so degrading!" Rachel mused aloud.

I shrugged. "Well... Yeah." I agreed.

"It's just..." She almost whispered. "We really need the money, Luke."

When I thought about prostitution, it didn't seem like that big a deal in theory. I certainly supported its legalization. As for the women who do it...? I'm sure a lot of them are just down on their luck, and doing what it takes to get by -- just like Rachel wants to. There's something admirable in that. It takes strength of character, will, and perseverance. But whatever my thoughts in the abstract, things were crucially different when it was my wife.

All the same, for the first time, I started seriously considering it. Would it affect our relationship? Part of me worried that it would, but on the whole, I really didn't think so. Rachel loved me more than anything -- I knew this. And I loved her. And... It's not like she was really cheating. She didn't want this anymore than I did, so it's not like she was crushing on someone, or going to fall in love with them. No, I didn't think this posed a threat to our relationship.

My hesitation came from something more basic. Rachel was mine -- mine alone. I couldn't imagine sharing her with somebody else, let alone selling her to somebody else. She was mine to hold, to love, to have -- to fuck. The thought of someone else putting his hands all over her, inside of her, enjoying her charms and bringing her pleasure. I got furious just thinking about it.

And that's when I realized I had to let Rachel do this. When it came down to it, my reasons for saying no weren't because I was worried about her or our relationship. It was about me, plain and simple. I didn't want anyone else to have her. And choosing that over keeping a roof over our heads was selfish, nothing more. As long as Rachel would be safe, and was willing to do it, this was better than homelessness. I couldn't let her get thrown out on the street.

"Okay." I relented, after a long silence.

Rachel sat up in bed and looked me in the eyes. "Okay what?" I think she knew, but she wanted to be sure.

"We'll download the app." I said, looking away briefly, but then returning to her gaze. What I saw cemented in my mind that I was making the right decision. In Rachel's eyes, I saw not excitement or lust, just tremendous relief. Relief that we would have some way to pay our debts, and not lose our home.

I don't think she expected me to agree to this, and she started stammering "I... I... Luke..."

I reached my arms around her, guiding her head back down on my chest. "You're right. It's not that big a deal. I want to be super clear that I'm not asking you to do this, and if you don't want to do it, we'll figure something out. We can couch surf for a while -- something, anything. But if you want to do this -- no, if you're willing to do this... I support you."

"Thank you." Rachel whispered. "I... I know this sucks, but I love you Luke. We'll get through this."

"I love you too Rachel. For now and forever."

******

After a long, awkward day, both of us remembering what we had agreed to last night, but neither of us particularly wanting to take any steps toward it, Rachel and I found ourselves sitting on the couch. It was a Saturday, around five, and we were just sitting there, holding one another. I didn't want to pressure her, but on the other hand, it was obvious that it was time.

"Well, shall we?" I asked.

Rachel sighed. "Yes. Let's do it." She replied.

I had downloaded the app myself a few hours earlier, to do research. There were a few women in the area offering their services, but none nearly as pretty as Rachel. Profile pictures varied wildly. One woman just had a normal, smiling picture of the sort you might find on a Facebook profile. Another had a close-up of her pussy. It seemed people were still figuring the app out, and nobody really knew which strategy would attract the most customers. That said, pricing was surprisingly consistent. $100 for a blowjob. $200 for sex. $300 for anal. And some women offered more elaborate experiences -- e.g. "the girlfriend experience" -- although the prices for these "extras" varied hugely. I had relayed all of this information to Rachel, and it was now time to act on it.

"We only need $300, so there are a few different ways we can do this. Do you want to... get it over in one go?" I asked.

"Are you kidding? I'd have to let the guy fuck me in my ass, and you know how much I hate that." Rachel and I had tried anal sex before, but to say she hadn't enjoyed it was putting the point mildly. "You were gentle and it still hurt like hell. I'm not going to let some animal who's paying for it pound away as he pleases."

I can't say I appreciated the mental image, but she was right. "Well, if you need multiple clients anyway, how about just blowjobs, then?" I found the process of selling my wife oddly detached and clinical.

"Yeah, I think that's the way to go." Rachel sighed. "I hope they're clean."

"If they're not, just make them shower. If they refuse, kick them out. We only need three people, so we can probably be choosy." I proposed.

"Do you think so? We've only got two days to raise the money..." She looked worried.

"Are you kidding? Do you even notice how men look at you in public? When we post a picture of you, men are going to go crazy. And if it really comes down to it, we can drive around different neighbourhoods to find somebody." The thought of doing this put knots in my stomach -- driving my wife around, actively finding men for her to fuck. I wanted to bite my own tongue.

Rachel made a little face. "This is weird."

"We don't have to do this..." I reminded her.

"No -- it's fine. It's our best option, and like I said, it's not a big deal. It's just... I feel a little like a prize pig."

"You know that's not true." I insisted.

"Yeah, I know. All right -- I've selected blowjobs only, our apartment, for $100 a pop. Now we... just need to post a picture." Rachel sighed.

I can only imagine how she felt. The picture we posted would be broadcast to anyone using the app -- our neighbours included. And the app had rules about posting pictures. You could be as explicit as you wanted, but you had to have at least one clear picture of your face and body, although you could wear clothes if you wanted to. The reason was obvious: customers needed to know what they were buying. But the result was that there was no way to hide Rachel's identity. She was announcing to everyone within range that her body was for sale, which can't have been easy. Not that it was easy for me either -- we were also announcing to the world that my wife was for sale, which in the final analysis, wasn't much less shameful.

"So, the best strategy is probably to be sexy, but modest." I announced.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked, puzzled.

"Well, we need to attract clients, so we want something sexy. But I don't know about you, but I don't feel comfortable sharing a naked picture of you for all our neighbours to see." I replied.

Rachel made a little face. "Eww. Yeah, definitely not."

"You're already wearing a really cute outfit." She was -- she was wearing a pair of short shorts and a tank top that showed more than a little of her breasts. "All we need is a sexy pose."

Rachel looked embarrassed. She was notoriously shy when it came to being sexy, certainly ironic given what we were now doing. "I... um.." she stammered. "What should I do?"

"How about this..." I mused. I gently guided her down onto her hands and knees, and arched her back so that her ass was thrust in the air, and pressed her head down into her folded arms. I then pulled her shirt up a little, revealing some of her tummy, and finally moved to a side view, to take in the whole scene. She looked tremendously erotic, kneeling there with her face down and her ass up. The scene was modest enough to keep you guessing and wanting, but sexy enough to make you want a lot. I picked up her cell phone and started snapping pictures.

"Don't forget to smile." I teased.

Rachel pouted. "This is embarrassing..." She whined.

"What did you expect? This was your idea." I criticized.

Rachel just sighed, but then put on a fake but convincing smile. She looked so sexy -- like the girl next door who you'd always dreamed of fucking. Only now you could, and for only a modest price...

It didn't take long until we had an excellent photo, which we added to Rachel's account. And with that, the account was ready. We scrolled through some terms of service, read some generic warnings about safety, hit agree, and suddenly were ready to go. The app changed, and now there was just a single button "turn solicitation on". "Solicitation", an appropriate euphemism for a shameful act. The moment was here.

Rachel gulped, then looked at me nervously. "I... I don't know how to feel."

I gave her a sort of forced smile. "Feel good. This definitely beats homelessness."

"Well then..." Rachel said, with a sigh as she flipped solicitation mode to "on". The app seemed largely unchanged, but I knew that, with the press of a button, we had changed everything. My wife was now on the market -- for sale to whomever wanted her. I'd spent months dating her before she even let me feel her breasts, and now a complete stranger was going to do that and more. With the press of a button, my wife became a whore.

"Is everything ready on your end?" Rachel asked.

I nodded. Rachel and I had agreed that I would be home while she did this, in case anything went wrong and I needed to intervene. Unfortunately, we also didn't want to scare off the clients. So we ultimately agreed that I had to monitor from a distance. Fortunately, I'm a bit of a tech nerd, and I was able to set up two cameras to monitor the apartment -- one giving me a good view of the main room including the front door, one in the bedroom. The plan was for me to watch these cameras from a closet, close enough to help, but tucked away so as not to make the clients uncomfortable. I wasn't sure if this was legal, but I didn't really care -- I wasn't willing to take the risk of anything happening to my beautiful wife.

"Are you... Are you sure you want to see this? You can always just go to the bar for a few hours." Rachel offered.

It was compassionate. I really didn't want to see this, and I wasn't really sure how I would react. But I also wasn't going to make Rachel go through this alone. First, because despite the app's safety precautions, she was still working as a whore, and that had to come with some risks. Second, because she was ultimately doing this for us, and I needed to be there for emotional support.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I replied curtly.

"Thanks, Luke." Rachel said sincerely.

"Of course. You know I'm here for you -- no matter what."

It only took a few minutes before Rachel's phone buzzed with an alert. We both jumped slightly -- startled -- and Rachel dashed over to answer it. She held it up nervously, revealing a message from a man named "George". He looked to be in his 30s, receding hairline, overweight, and with a really repulsive face. He sent a message that read: "Hey sexy ;)". Rachel made a little frown. "Not him...?" She looked to me, nervously.