As Sarah awoke, she briefly remembered what it was like before her sentence had been carried out. This was part of the punishment. She was meant to remember, to understand what had been taken from her, and why.
The memories imposed themselves on her conscious mind as vivid as though they dated from only yesterday. She remembered her boyfriend, Miguel, remembered how she'd felt when she'd realised he'd cheated on her. She remembered the white powder, mixed in with his tequila, and how he'd looked so confused and afraid as the chemicals attacked his brain. She remembered how she'd used those last few moments of lucidity to explain what was happening to him, how his brain function was being impaired, how the damage would be permanent. She remembered explaining why, telling him how hurt she'd been, how he deserved what was coming to him.
By the time her explanations were over, he was in considerable pain, and two hours later, when the pain had passed, he'd lacked the intelligence to hate her for what she'd done, or to realise what he'd lost.
He looked completely unchanged on the outside, and she'd taken advantage of that. Stripping him of his intelligence had made him a much better lover. Far less self-conscious, and far less gentle.
Then she'd left him in the motel. After all, he'd checked them in, and the receptionist didn't even have her name.
She'd never looked back.
These thoughts, remembered so vividly every time she awoke, were the prosecution's case. They were engraved on her consciousness so that she would forever remember the reason why the rest of her day was not entirely within her control. The rest only kicked in once the memories were done.
She felt the low heat beginning in her loins. Well within her ability to master. They hadn't taken her self-control. She knew she would be able to function for another hour or so. Enough time to have breakfast and get cleaned up. But the heat would continue to grow. Within minutes it would be an effort to ignore, within the hour it would be impossible. From experience she knew that ninety minutes after she'd awoken, she'd have sex with any person willing to take her, and that nothing else would allow her to reclaim her reason. Then she'd have a period of relative sanity before it started all over again.
The only way to sate the hunger she'd feel would be to have an orgasm. Luckily they'd made that pretty easy for her. In a way though, that was part of the ingenuity of what they'd done. Every orgasm merely reinforced the changes, and ensured their lasting influence. They'd turned her into her own jailor. They'd made her love what she'd been turned into.
Breakfast was a coffee and a croissant, quickly devoured to leave ample time for her to clean up and get ready for her first client.
He was an elegant but young businessman, South American, a regular. They were all regulars at this point. No doubt a pretty young wife or girlfriend at home, looking for an experience or an enthusiasm that she couldn't provide. A two hour session for this gentleman, and Sarah felt the butterflies in her stomach, just as she always did, the excitement at the coming carnality thrumming through her.
When she saw him, she was smiling happily, her eyes glancing at his crotch and wondering if he'd let her take him in her mouth. She was in the mood for that today, and there'd be plenty of time for some cruder stuff later - she had a client with simpler desires coming for lunch, but Benito, who was presently standing at the threshold of her bedroom, had more sophisticated tastes.
She giggled involuntarily and her brunette curls bounced about her shoulders and over her breasts, completely lost to the role she had been given. The role she had become.
After crippling Miguel, she'd travelled north to Los Angeles, but the couple of thousand dollars she'd saved up didn't last long. She'd reluctantly taken her first client in a nightclub. A case of mistaken identity, he'd thought she was an escort because of the way she was dressed. She'd been hoping to hook some guy who'd take care of her for a few days, take her back to his hotel room in one of the casinos and keep her for the week, feeding and housing her.
She'd needed the money, or at least some solution to her problem, quickly. The offer had been too good to pass up, and she'd let him take her back to the Atlantic casino, where he had a standard room, but enough cash to pay her the six hundred dollars he'd promised her for the night.
If he'd been a less good lover, she might never have considered the career she'd finally chosen. But he turned out to be the best she'd ever had. After a solid two hours of sex games, he'd held her by the hips as he finished inside her, and she'd been so wonderfully fucked that she hadn't even cared that he'd not been wearing a condom.
Luck meant she didn't have to spend the six hundred on an abortion.
She learned to identify the type that paid well, loved sex and treated her decently. A couple of early mistakes had provided her with the necessary lessons in survival. She still had one discreet scar on her right wrist to show for it. Her body had provided the lure necessary to bring in enough cash that within two years she'd had the apartment, the car, the cleaner and two other girls in town to which she could send the clients she didn't want who paid her significant kickbacks for the referrals.
Life had been good. She'd been thinking about retirement in a couple of years. She never thought about Miguel the retard anymore.
With hindsight, she should have seen it coming. After all, she was supposed to have good instincts for identifying bad clients. It had also been her first female client. What had she been thinking?
The girl, Melissa, had come up to her in a nightclub. Blonde hair, blue eyes, thin because of the sport she practiced rather than the food she didn't eat. Absolutely gorgeous. She'd known the names of three of her clients and said they'd referred her to Sarah, saying that she was the best. She wanted to know if two girls might get together for some fun.
"I want to know what it feels like to see you coming as I slide my fingers over your clit. I want to know what if feels like to orgasm with your tongue between my legs."
In short, Sarah had been seduced by the girl as much as by the enormous amount of cash she'd offered: two thousand dollars for the night.
Sarah had never done another woman, but with her knowledge of how to get herself off, she knew she could please Melissa in every way. She wasn't really into girls, but didn't care given the amount of money on offer. Sex had become a way to earn money, she didn't get much pleasure from it any more. Even orgasms felt almost routine.
They'd gone back to Sarah's apartment.
"I'm too horny to think straight - do you mind just doing me once before we get started? I promise I'll return the favour several times over."
Sarah didn't mind at all. She was, after all, on the clock, and she believed in giving the best service possible, which meant pretty much anything the client wanted.
She'd gone slowly, loosening Melissa's hair, scratching her scalp, caressing her neck and down her sides before bringing her hands around her sides to lift and caress her perfectly proportioned and extremely firm breasts. She unzipped the other girl's skirt and, kneeling behind her on the bed, caressed up her thighs teasing and raising the temperature.
Melissa seemed to get into it with ease, letting herself go in Sarah's hands and accepting everything that was done to her, letting her arousal ratchet, even moaning when a well lubricated finger teased around her anus. Melissa was soon lying naked on the bed with her legs apart as Sarah worked her with her tongue. Within half an hour, she squealed and thrashed gently on the bed, before settling down and pulling the other girl into a hug, latching onto a nipple with her mouth and gently sucking as she recovered from the orgasm.
Sarah waited for her client to recover, enjoying the gentle sucking on her breast more than she thought she would. Gradually, she felt the pleasure spread outwards and downwards. Her other nipple puckered and she felt gentle shivers in her belly.
Melissa's hands began to move, ever so gently, around Sarah's body, exploring and discovering the curves and softness of her skin. It felt like a combination of soothing and arousing, and Sarah felt herself gradually letting go to the sensations, her efforts to stroke Melissa's hair falling away as the sensations enveloped her like a warm, gently erotic blanket.
As she let go, the movements became slightly firmer, tracing tense muscles on the one hand and caressing newly-discovered erogenous zones on the other. Her limbs relaxed but the sensations built. A hand would flow down her back and caress a buttock before kneading the slightly tense muscle in her thigh, while the other hand could caress the nape of her neck and then rub a thumb gently over her lips. And always that mouth sucking on her nipple, gently and insistently, lighting a slow fire in her loins.
After fifteen minutes, Sarah was lost in the sensations, sighing occasionally as a hand found a new spot to caress. She offered no resistance at all as she was gently encouraged onto her back, the mouth following her impossibly sensitive left breast as she went. On her back, the sensations began to escalate, a hand encircling and caressing her other breast, the combination of softness on one side and wetness on the other lifting her arousal smoothly and inexorably while the other hand caressed over her belly, not yet honouring the unspoken promise to move lower, to more sensitive places.
Floating on a cloud, Sarah was not aware of time passing. Melissa built her arousal with consummate skill, always delivering just enough to keep her immobile, waiting for the next wonderful sensation, but never any more, certainly never enough to give her a sense that a conclusion was approaching. Soon, Sarah had even stopped thinking of orgasm as the destination, and just floated on a cushion of pleasure.
When the mouth moved away from her breast, it was immediately replaced by slick fingers that continued the stimulation, another gasp in an ocean of gentle sighs and quiet moans.
The gentle kiss on her lips indicated the next movement in the symphony, and Sarah arched slightly as the tongue entered her mouth, caressing her lips in time with the fingers on her nipple, the caresses on her other breast. She felt a thigh slide between hers, and she spread her legs slightly without thinking about it.
