The Awaening of Chastity

A Work Of Fiction

Part 12 - When Dream & Day Unite

Terri :

We leave Martika's house after an hour or so. I leave their gracious offer hanging, as me and Tom say our goodnights - at nearly 5 am - to Martika, Mark and Miya....her husband and eldest daughter, respectively.

I'm exhausted.

Physically? I've fucked god knows how many punters in my shift - 18, I think - and made, as Martika has told me, over £1400 for her. I've drunk the best part of a bottle of wine and a fair amount of vodka, smoked a couple of packs of cigarettes and banged out how many lines of cocaine?

There's been a lot.

Emotionally? I've seen her daughter, Miya, who's just starting her career in prostitution, down a huge pint glass of semen from used condoms from us girls that Martika runs. I've also had, of course, the offer of working for her - full-time - in her brothel and they've offered me a £50k annual income.

In her brothel? Fuck, I never asked! Sarah, one of her girls, she sometimes works the streets for her and she's suppose to work in the brothel. She hates that too. What if that was the part of the deal from Martika and Mark? I really should have asked....

Only...well....that would show I was interested...and, really, it's a no-brainer.

I'm fuckin' scared.

Scared of people finding out.

Terrified.

I'm not accepting the offer.

The drive home? I can't remember. Tom is talking...but I'm not hearing. There's a lot to take in....and I know that Tom wants to bang me as soon as we get in the house.

There's a few stares, as I get out the car in all my slutty finery, from some of the early morning risers. I just want to get in.

...and I need a cigarette.

There....deep inhale...hold....exhale. That'll make things better.

There's little chat. Mostly from Tom's direction. Going through the different permutations.

"It's simple..." I say, taking a drag of my cigarette....then, answering in a cloud of excess smoke "...we continue as we are. I don't want to give up my banking career. Not yet, anyways. We stay as we are."

Pause....

"...Just let me finish this cigarette and then we can bonk, ok?"

Early afternoon, we awake in each other's arms. I can feel Tom's steady breath on my ear. I can't feel his semen inside me, of course, because he's one of many....but we fucked...and then we fell asleep.

Waking up.....easing myself out of bed....my working clothes are on the floor...sweat...perfume...cigarettes...semen.....that's all I see in front of me.

A new life.....a better life.....a different life.....if I want it.

Maybe...but not yet.

I text Martika. Tell her that I appreciate the offer and that, although it's very tempting, I have decided to stay as I am. Not long after, my phone's message noise finally stirs Tom awake.

"What's that babe?" he asks.

"Just messaged Martika 'bout the job. We're staying as we are..." I counter.

"Good. I'd thought that you'd say that. Come back to bed so that I can go with that naughty tart again..."

"Mmmmmmmm...sounds delicious..." I answer. "Just a mo, I need to pee, then I'll be back for some more fun..."

I head to the toilet to do my thing. Not only urine is coming from me. As I wipe, I feel the dried cum from my punters on my thighs. I look in the mirror at the heavy make up, partly smeared across my face.

I don't recognise this woman at all.

Back into the bedroom, slip inside the covers.....and work on extracting semen from Tom, in a highly sexual way, riding him...on top....him underneath.....feeling his rod...like Iron...move inside me....I grind against him....body slapping....low moans... groans.....panting....breathless....male noises...whimpers....and then....

Climax.

I smile....he smiles.

I get off....leaving him in the bed...as I grab a shower.

Once again, the smeared makeup slides down the drain...and I watch it go...

Dried...changed into jeans and a blouse....hair-dried...light makeup...

We head out, shopping, have a late lunch snack....back home, unpack the shopping....hoovering and cleaning.

I get to sit down, flick on the TV...

Some bloody news story about prostitution...

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" I moan loudly, to no-one in particular.

Think the universe is trying to tell me something...

Martika :

I really didn't expect Terri to say yes. Just to plant the idea. Plant it in Tom's head, firstly, and see how it grows.

As Mark was banging my brains out, in our bed, early this morning...with each thrust I was thinking that Terri was getting the same...and that she was just thinking of whoring. That made me smile...and that's a huge turn on for me....

The amount of slags that I have encouraged to hook, over the years, has been a fair few. It gives me deep satisfaction of corrupting another girl into this lifestyle....and, if they end up working for me too...then that is just brilliant!

Miya? That bitch, although my own daughter, I have to keep an eye on. She loves getting hammered on drink and drugs....she's a young woman, after all....but....I have standards, which is why I want her in the brothel....with other slags...like Terri.

Terri :

We have a quiet night in. Sunday out with friends, for a nice meal. Just normal stuff.

We're back at work, of course, at the bank and I'm trying to get back those feelings that I had when I first started, straight out of Uni. Out of fear, I guess. Putting some distance between the brothel and my 'persona' there and that of the person I was.

It was tough. I have no idea of just why I have the lure of this 'hooker lifestyle'. Indeed, why I started or felt inclined to fuck about for Tom anyways. I thought that it was because I was bored...but I wasn't really. Not bored of Tom. I think that Tom represented an escape, for want of a better word, of this 'clean cut' life. My sister smoked behind the bike sheds, would go off drinking and had sex with boys.

Of course our parents didn't have a clue, and of course Lorraine grew out of it all....it was a fleeting episode of rebellion.

She had guts. She had balls. I was envious. Too scared or, I should say, afraid of getting caught and getting my parent's disappointment.

Here, well into my twenties, I'm just craving this depravity. Part of it is the smoking, of course. Getting used to smoking 2 packs of cigarettes each time out does cultivate a craving for nicotine, that has spilled out into my regular life at times....but, generally, only when I'm dressed as 'Chastity' or at least in that dirty hooker mindset.

Same with cocaine. I get what you could call an associated high....if I let myself remember Chastity, banging out a line of cocaine, then I usually get some kind of rush. Not the high that I get from the drug as I take it, but in the same area code.

Which is fine...

But it's mostly that I've let the slut out - the genie in the bottle - and....I like it.

Tom likes me like this too. The carefree tart....the girl that's been around the block.

The confident, sexual creature.

A few more months go by.....the work in the bank is going ok, although I do feel less dedicated. Less enthusiastic. It pays the bills. It contributes to paying for our lifestyle.

...and where I do feel alive is in that Brothel, with the other girls. Hanging out. Getting men and women off. Earning a wage off my back, you could say. Looking the part. Acting the part.

Or is it that the bank manager 'me' is the acting?

To that end, after some conversations with Tom, I decide to step things up a little.

So, every month I hook on the Friday at Martika's, her brothel. Right? Well, we decide - Oh, instigated by myself I'll add - that every 2nd Saturday that I'd also work there.

Like I said, stepping up a little.

The bank manageress me just laughs...."So, in effect I'll be working 2 days a month now for nothing. That makes no business sense....but it feeds my soul."

I message Martika...

Martika :

Things continue as they are. Chastity comes to me and thanks me again for the generous offer. Which is fine. Which is nice. But it's not generous to her. To me? Absolutely! Certainly not for the slag...but I'll let her think that.

Think about it : She's making me between £1100 and £1400 a night. That's between £57,200 and £72,800, if she did that particular day a week for the year. As it is, she's making me between £13,200 and £16,800 a year. If she works a full, 5 day week for me then, as a conservative average of £1200 a shift, she'll be making over £312,000 a year....so just £50k of that would be something like 16%, less than what my bitches make - they get 25% - but I ain't gonna tell her shit about that; she fuckin' works with money, after all.

Any how, out of the blue comes a message from the slag. She always signs off 'C x', which is good 'cos Chastity is getting into her head. Anyways, I digress. This message - and, although she does message from time to time - comes back with the offer of working on a Saturday too.

Surprised?

Shocked?

Maybe a little, but I knew that tart would be wanting more.

I message back "That's wonderful, Chastity. Same start and end time, so you'll be on your back from 9 am until 3 am. Ok? Brilliant that you're taking the next step, slag. M x"

Of course, the girls get there at 9 am, sharp, and I make sure everything is settled for 9:30 am start.

She texts back with "Yep. See you in a couple of weeks. C x"

Terri :

Martika text back. Usual slutty kind of language...which always gets to me.

I'm close friends with Donna, by this time - she's my text buddy - and she keeps me abreast of what's happening...specifically the 'Miya thing'...

Martika :

Miya...Miya...Miya...

She's been, at this point, a very loose cannon. Because I, shall we say, was encouraged by my grandmother - Sue - to really go head on decedent and, at one point, consume a couple of litres of vodka every day...for around about 14 years or so....until I physically couldn't....she thinks she can do the same.

I developed, for want of a better term, my cocaine useage to keep me as sober as I could. That's the wonder of that drug...but, I drank, as I said until I physically couldn't anymore. A near death situation can sometimes have that effect on people. Not all, but it sure did to me.

I don't drink at all.

However, Miya? That bitch - my own flesh and blood - thinks that you can. Only, she can't handle it at times.

There's been times, I've found, that she's just falling down drunk in the brothel...and, it's those times, daughter or not that I've sorted it out with physical violence.

I don't care. You live with me, you should respect what rules I put in place. You work for me you should also do likewise.

Reputation really is everything. Word of mouth can destroy careers in prostitution. I will not tolerate that.

So, slaps and punches. Whatever works. This last occasion, I punched her hard in the face, blacking her eye. I've balled - screamed - her out in front of the other bitches. I know that you have too, April. It's a team, with all the slags that I run, and that any weak link will get sorted.

Miya, I think, finally gets it.

The folly of youth, right?

Mark? He's right with me. He says to her "You step into your mum's arena and she's queen, ok? She's the expert. She knows what works and what doesn't. You two are very alike. Headstrong. Stubborn. But there's only going to be one winner here. Do as you're told, ok honey..."

Terri :

I get the message "Boss has beat up Miya 'cos that bitch is sooooo unprofessional at times. Left her with a black eye. Getting drunk at work? Not on. Can't wait to see you Saturday, slag! D x" from Donna.

Oh...heck!

Saturday comes. I'm up, showered, dressed and made up. Having breakfast - cigarette and coffee too - and then Tom is emptying his balls in me. Our routine.

Drives me over to the brothel, and I get out with Tom, and head in to where we meet up again with Martika.

She smiles...gives me a little rub on the back and then goes in for a hug with Tom.

Miya's there too. Nods in my general direction. Her left eye looks a little swollen. Guess that's the eye that Martika's blackened.

"I'm glad that you came here today, Chastity....and you too, Tom. Saturday's are so fuckin' busy. It'll be great for your hooking career to experience that." gushes Martika.

Then Jackie pulls up, in her car...followed by Donna and Sarah. Sarah's on foot, as she lives not that far away. Even so, with how she's dressed....

I tell her that.

"Oh, you get used to it, luv. Martika has us dressed similar to this on day's off too. Kinda like advertising, kinda like normalising it all.", pointing to what she's wearing - red leather mini and heels, black and gold belt, white vest top - and smiling.

"Nice to see you here on a Saturday. Martika said you'd be working today."

No Wendy?

"No, just week days. She puts in the hours. Slag's got her kid to look after..." answers Martika, matter-of-factly.

Anyways, I say goodbye to Tom - sending him off with my love, and a list of things he needs to do, shopping and cleaning amongst them - and settle into the routine of banging out a couple of lines of coke, fixing a drink - Candy gets me a tumbler of Vodka - and lighting up a cigarette.

The routine of listening to Martika...our boss...on what's happened yesterday...what we've - yes, I include myself in this...I am one of the team - earned and what we're planning to do today.

Martika, herself, bangs out a couple of lines, gets up and finished off her cigarette, grinding it out in the ashtray.

"Right. Get fuckin' sellin' yourselves, bitches. Let's make some money..."

We're off and running and Martika head out, back doing whatever she normally does on a Saturday morning.

Saturday's are quite interesting. We have a plethora of me, quickly nipping in and out...for a...erhh...a 'quickie' with one of us....whilst their partner's out shopping or something. I'm busy. Sarah's busy. Candy's busier, of course.

She tells me that she's blown 5 guys off in the space of an hour, pretty much back-to-back.

Very impressed.

Me? In the same space of time, I do 2 BJ's and straight sex.

All adds up.

Just lots of activity. Time to light up, or drink a glass of something - Jackie tends to stress that we need to "..keep our fluid levels up.." as we're banging punters - or have a quick chat, but not a lot of time.

Lunch-time is a bit hit and miss. Getting us to eat at the same time. I have lunch with Miya. She's not the most talkative soul, especially after the recent dressing down by her mum, but she's ok. I make her a tea and, at least, she says "Thank you."

Plenty of men - and women, usually 'serviced' by Sarah or Candy - around in the evening of all types. Again, some semi-famous football players....and the same one that did me on my first day here. I bang him too.

I go with this guy named Jerry. Quite nice, y'know? Bit of stubble, in his late 30's/early 40's at a guess. He's a good fuck. Compliments me too.

After Jerry, there's a bit of time to take a breather.

Candy's just had someone cum in her and she's dying to hit the coke. She beckons me over and we do a couple of lines...big, juicy ones...each. Really gives me one of those intense ice cream headaches....before the euphoria.

Have to light up a cigarette too.

As we're just commenting on just how great doing coke and having a cigarette is, after sex, we both get beckoned over by Jackie.

I get the guy that wants to cum in my arse....and Candy pulls another woman.

Just space upstairs for me and mine...as Candy'll have to wait for either Miya or Sarah to finish up with theirs. Donna's just in the initial stages with her punter.

Rubber on, pumping away at my arse as I am, once again, bent over the bed....skirt up....trying to hold myself up with one hand, cigarette in the other. As I take a drag I notice my Chastity pendant swinging in and out of my peripheral eyeline....shunting me....panting....groaning.....then...cumming.

Another done.

I grind out my cigarette butt, as my punter is throwing the used rubber in the waste bin, pull down my skirt and wait for my punter to be ready to be escorted from the room. Candy's with her lady, so I hear...

Behind me is Donna and her punter.

The rest of the evening just rocks along. I'm tired, a bit sore and gladly accept a cup of tea and a cigarette at the end of my shift. Sarah's upstairs, as is Candy. It's nearing 3 am and I can hear them both draining their respective punter's balls over the music and chat with Miya and Donna.

Martika and Tom come in together. Bet they must have met as Tom pulled up in the car park. They both chat to Jackie and I see him wave to me.....I haul arse, getting my sticky, cum plastered, leather mini skirted bum off the seat to meet him.

Both Sarah and Candy are showing their punters off home, before chatting and counting out their money with Jackie and then them getting their cut.

I give Tom a kiss, in front of the others, and we say our goodnights and head off.

Back in the car, back home, on the sofa, trying to smoke a cigarette and relax simultaneously while getting Tom's rocks off.

It's constant sex.

Then bed. Wake up. More fucking....then talk.

Tom's done all the chores, which is good, and we can have a nice relaxing day together.

Monday....back at work.

Prim and proper Terri once again....with a normal lifestyle.

Day's going good. Chatting a little to the girls whilst I'm making a cup of tea. Just general chit chat. Having a nice time. Nothing too crazy to sort.

Some point in the afternoon I have this meeting with a man called Jerry. Fine, I have plenty of meetings. That's part of my job.

He's applying for a loan...a business loan.

So, in he comes. We meet. Chat a little.

"Do I know you? You look very familiar" he asks.

He looks vaguely familiar himself, but I'm not going to say that, just state that's he's probably seen me here or, maybe, shopping or something. Keeping it light, y'know?

Anyhow, we go though his details and, sadly, I have to tell him that we couldn't accept his application for a loan at this point. He's a little flustered...says that he has some more information that could be pertinent to the loan application, and starts reeling off items.

I tell him that we'd be happy for him to reapply, with all the details and evidence enclosed, but that at this time I couldn't okay any deal.

Always sad when those kind of things happen. Obviously, with our training, we are able to let the client down gently and give them some pointers for future applications.

It's still not good news though.

Anyways, the rest of the afternoon goes fine. Smoothly. We manage to get through the last of our customers, process them, and get ourselves out pretty much on time.

Chris and Ellie are the last one's to lock the doors and we go out, say goodnight to each other, and I leave them to head off as I fumble in my handbag, looking for my car keys.

"I thought I knew you. Now I remember..." comes a voice from the side of me.

I look. It's that customer that I had the meeting with...

"You're 'Chastity'...." he answers.

End Of Part 12