Somewhere on the Outskirts of Philadelphia...
New Paradise.
Its name was pretentious as hell, all things considered.
The rundown motel looked like it belonged on the set of some post-apocalyptic film. Its neon sign was hanging cock-eyed, halfway falling off the post out front, and only two of the letters were still even lit. Meanwhile its gravel parking lot surrounded a drab, L-shaped complex with slate gray vinyl siding that perfectly foreshadowed the torn up, unkempt rooms within. Inside one of those rooms, an everyday tragedy unfolded.
A 26-year-old Thai girl sat naked, straddling a man's face. His sucking and licking sounds were joined by hers as she leaned over his lap in a 69 position. His cock was both thick and long. As Aranya sucked on the tip, it occurred to her that it was much bigger than any client she'd had in recent memory.
"Aahhhh... fuck, baby...just like that. Ooohhh..." The man was a young assistant coach for a local college team. His name was Rick... or was it Jack? Aranya had already forgotten. His was just another in a long line of cocks she had pleasured, and would continue to pleasure, in order to survive. He was one of those men who could compartmentalize. One of those men who could take advantage of a woman's 'services' without caring whether she was being trafficked or not. What did this 'Jack' or 'Rick' care for her, Aranya thought, as she trailed her tongue down to the base of his shaft, sucking gently on his balls.
She was trash to him -- a thing to be used and then forgotten. She was a piece of ass. A mouth. A pussy. That was all she was to him. That was all she was to most of this miserable world. And yet she survived...was determined to survive, because despite it all she had something to live for. Someone.
"Ooohhh yeah, babe. You've got a sweet mouth," Rick/Jack groaned.
His encouragement meant nothing to her except on the most primal level. On that most primal level, Aranya let her body respond. It made the toil feel less like toil. When she'd been younger, newer to this life, she had tried withdrawing into an inner shell of numbness, but that method had its drawbacks. Surrendering to pleasure, that was the lesser of two evils. So now the slender Thai girl moaned a little for her client's benefit. She shivered a bit as he nibbled on her pussy, his tongue swiping along her clit.
"You like that, slut?"
"Mmm-hmm," she said with a sigh, then smothered his cock again, slurping on it loudly.
Aranya had a keen sense of time. Her client had only paid for an hour. His time was almost up, she was sure of it. He was her last client of the day, too. Her heart pumped with hope. As if it now fueled her, she sucked harder on his cock. His pre-cum swam in her mouth, teased her taste buds. She deep-throated him now, almost choking on cock, then came up for air sputtering. Strings of pre-cum dangled from her lips. His cock was as huge as ever. She pumped it with one tiny fist, marveling at how it glistened.
A hand tapped lightly on her ass.
"That's enough appetizer, slut. Now I want the main course." His derogatory language didn't upset her. She was used to it. The beautiful Thai girl swiveled around on the dilapidated bed. She repositioned herself on the client's lap. He was Caucasian, reasonably handsome, with a wide forehead and a bulging, almost caveman-like brow. His blue eyes stared greedily up at her medium-sized breasts, which he now reached up to fondle and pet.
"Climb aboard, girl. Sink that pussy on my cock."
Aranya grasped the base of Rick/Jack's cock and slowly eased herself onto him. It wasn't difficult, she was already so wet. Once they were joined, she splayed her hands on his chest and began humping him, fucking him, making sure he could enjoy the sight of her bouncing breasts as she rode his shaft. The client seemed oh-so-pleased, groaning appreciatively while the bedsprings creaked and squeaked. While she fucked him, her mind wandered. Now she was the one compartmentalizing. Half of her was in the moment, her primal self relishing the feel of his cock rubbing against her inner walls, but the other half of her was annoyed. Was his name Rick or Jack? She should remember. The vibrant part of her that had died, withered, or gone into hiding long ago every so often reared its righteous head. She should at least know the name of the man she was 'making love with.'
When the door to the motel room exploded inward, Aranya didn't even miss a beat. She kept humping her client's cock because she knew who that was. She knew even before she glanced toward the door and saw that door halfway off its hinges.
"Your time's up, asshole." The voice rumbled, dark, like distant thunder. Viktor's voice.
Viktor Green, AKA the 'Green-eyed Ghoul' -- that, at least, was what the other girls called him. He was a Russian, his skin always an unhealthy green pallor that matched his eyes. Musclebound and with the deadly eyes of a killer, Viktor was one of Mr. Hobbes' 'handlers.' That was the sanitized term they used for the men who were supposed to watch the girls and make sure they did - and fucked - as they were told. Viktor just so happened to be Aranya's handler, and a fastidious one at that.
"Oh shit." The client beneath her -- Aranya was now sure that his name was Rick -- motioned frantically at the nightstand. "Don't burst a blood vessel, man. I'm good for it."
"You pay UP FRONT for all services. You know the rules," Viktor said grimly. He stalked over toward the nightstand. Aranya kept gyrating on Rick's lap. She slid her pussy up and down the man's cock, which was still surprisingly hard despite the stress of the situation.
"Mmmm. We know you're good for it, baby. Don't worry," Aranya purred, trying to ease her client's anxiety. She leaned down, kissing him while her pussy hugged his cock. Meanwhile Viktor flipped through the man's wallet, fished out two Benjamins, and tucked them away in his back pocket.
"One more hour, not a minute more," the vicious Russian warned. He turned to leave, then paused. He stood beside the bed and gave Aranya an apologetic look, but it had nothing to do with his bursting through the door or the rude interruption.
"You got another request... one more client. This one's a high roller."
Viktor must have anticipated the disappointment in Aranya's eyes. An apology had laced his voice. He leaned forward, caressing her right breast with one hand as he gently kissed her on the lips. Reluctantly, Viktor broke off the kiss. He stood back up. Aranya stilled on her client's lap. With a cock embedded deep in her pussy, she thought about the daughter she wouldn't get to read bedtime stories with tonight.
"After you're done with him, go home for a bit," Viktor offered. "I'll stall your next client. I can give you a couple hours. Be back here by half past midnight."
That would give Aranya just over two hours to get home, read Kamlai a few stories and kiss her good night, and then get ready for this 'higher roller,' whoever he might be. She hated it, hated this life, now more than ever, but there were tiny glimmers in the dark. As odd as it seemed, Viktor was one of those glimmers. Brusque and ruthless, Viktor nevertheless had this ever-so-tiny soft spot in his impenetrable armor with Aranya's name on it. Stalling a high roller who was probably also an entitled prick was easier said than done. Viktor would be taking some heat for her sake, and they both knew it.
"OK. Thanks," Aranya said shyly. Why did she feel like blushing now? She was naked, fucking on a man's lap while having a conversation with someone else, and that didn't make her want to blush, so why did Viktor's simple act of kindness do what nothing else could?
