Millie got home at midnight on Tuesday. She went straight to the bedroom, undressed, and got under the covers with her back toward Ben. His face was covered with bandages over his nose and chin. He nestled against her back and put his arm around her waist. "Don't touch me," she snapped.
"Am I that hideous?" he asked.
"I'm a whore. We shouldn't be in the same bed."
"Millie, I still love you. We are going through a rough patch, but we will survive it. My feelings for you will never change."
She rolled over to face him and gently placed her hand on his cheek. Tears ran down hers. "Why? How can you possibly love someone who has mistreated you so badly?"
"Everybody makes mistakes. It's part of life. We will learn from ours and move on."
"My being forced to be a prostitute is just an object lesson? How can you say that? Sam owns me. I'm his toy that he can play with any way he wants."
"He only owns your pussy until you have done twenty johns. Judging from the hour, you must have been busy this evening."
"Yes. I was fucked four times."
"There's two hundred dollars. At that rate, you will be done by the end of the week."
"I don't know about that. The first one was Sam. The others were cops." Ben didn't respond. "I was fucked over."
"Yeah," Ben said sullenly. "At least you weren't injured."
"I still have twenty paying johns to fuck. I wonder if I will ever have one. I can't even make love to my husband. Ben, I can't believe you are sticking with me. Sam may own my pussy, but you own my heart." She giggled. "I have to be the luckiest woman in the world to have you as my husband."
He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. He picked up the edge of the sheet and dabbed her cheeks with it. "You just have to get some paying customers so this can be over."
"How do we do that?"
"I wish I knew."
On Wednesday, Millie did not wear her bra to work. She really didn't need it because her breasts were firm and did not jiggle very much. It would be one less garment to remove when Sam called her after work. Ben half-heartedly joked that he wished the women in his company had the same wardrobe.
She ate her lunch alone. The men who also gambled and lost on the football game glanced in her direction occasionally, but none of them approached her.
Her first two johns that evening were cops. The first one was still wearing his uniform when she rang his doorbell. Although she wanted to be good in bed, her heart wasn't in the sex. She might have felt better if some money had been involved. She was just another gift.
Somehow the address for her third customer seemed familiar, but she couldn't figure out why. She had never been there before. That much she was certain about. Her jaw dropped when the door opened. "Charlie?" she gasped.
"Hi, Millie," Charlie said cheerfully. "Come in. I've been expecting you."
Millie went inside, and Charlie closed the door. "What do you mean by you've been expecting me?"
He gestured at the sofa. "Have a seat and I'll explain." They sat down together. As she had been instructed by Sam, she left her legs open so customers could see her hairless pussy. "Millie, all the guys feel really bad about your situation. We know how tight things are for you and Ben. I had no business placing that bet for you, especially with Sam. We knew about his escort service, and about how he treats women gamblers who can't pay their losses. I've used it a few times in the past. He's a greedy sonofabitch. You will be lucky to get one paying customer a month. He loves having cops fuck his girls. It's a big power trip for him.
"Like I said, I should have refused to place that bet for you. I'm as much to blame for you having to be one of his girls as you are for making that wager. I've known him for a couple years. The way Sam operates, it will be that long before you are free from him. The guys in the department want to help you."
"How can you help me? I'm trapped."