Prologue: "NWMD!" identifies this as a part of the "Not With My Daughter!" series of adventures befalling Marnie, her friends and family. Each stand-alone part is premised on the initial story where Marnie is blackmailed by a man named Larcher and his son Jeff under the threat of the man unleashing his son and buddies on Marnie's daughter, Brenda. This is one of the parts that would pass the age submission guideline. If you want to read these in the order that they were written, feel free to contact me or visit my site. Others to follow, please enjoy.
*****
Marnie endured two situations, which had a compounding affect on her life both physically and mentally. One was a couple of scenes she made in a movie under duress, and another was at her husband's office building in a conference room. Central to these incidences were a man named Larcher, and his kid Jeff. Marnie earlier found herself with these two in a compromising position, to avoid threats they were making toward her daughter.
Since that time, Marnie had gotten herself into deeper water, but managed to keep her family clear of it. It was becoming harder to do though, because her husband, Roger, and her daughter, Brenda, were growing increasingly concerned about the changes they were noticing in her. Specifically, she had an increased sexual appetite; she was shorter with them as if on a diet or trying to quit smoking; she was more emotional and prone to breaking into tears for no apparent reason that they could tell; and, Marnie was occasionally finding excuses to be out of the house in the evenings and week-ends.
It was going to be another stretch of a couple of days where Roger would be traveling to visit his territory for his paper company. Marnie was concerned, because she was using Roger in the mornings and evenings to keep her increased sexual appetite in check. She begged him at the airport not to go this month. She kissed him passionately, put his hand on her pussy through the front of her jacket, and tried to get him to move it all around, but he was conscious of all the other people around at the departure drop off, and pulled it out wondering who might smell her on his hand before he could get a chance to wash it.
With Marnie in a constant state of heat from "pulling the train" at a movie set and a more recent gangbang in a conference room, she found herself becoming something of a flirt. Being married, she felt she had to keep this at the fantasy stage, but she was instinctively practicing for the possibility that she would have to attract someone to help her clip her horns one day, and it might not be Roger.
The sexual frustration and tension throughout her body created a compulsion that Marnie had never known the likes of before. She decided on a course of action that she never would have dreamed of in a million years. Her plan was to interview some professionals to learn as much as she could about faceless sex and how to deal with her increasing urges toward becoming a slut. She went to an area of town that streetwalkers could be seen frequenting. She parked a couple of blocks off of the thoroughfare, and walked to the main avenue. She was not quite dressed like the pros, but then she was not dressed exactly like herself either. She wore a red mid-thigh mini and a white tight sleeveless, knit turtle neck top, and heels. As she approached the Avenue from the side streets, her heart was beating faster and faster. As she turned to walk down the street, she experienced eyes upon her of all kinds.
There were the cars that slowed as they passed; there were the threatening stares by the hookers who had staked out territories, and who would watch her with intimidating looks to make sure that she would continue to pass; there were the kids in cars that laughed and pointed; and, there were the ladies, like herself, who would glance with disgust at the sight of her. "Whom can I talk to?" She agonized. "That one? No, she looks too mean. Her? No, she looks ill. Over there? No, here comes a guy." Marnie searched for that one person she could confide in and pump for information.
"There. That one. I hope she is willing to talk." Marnie thought, as she watched a young woman straightening her clothes and redoing her makeup in a storefront window, after just being let out of a car. Marnie approached. After summoning up all of her courage she asked, "Can I buy you some coffee, lunch or something?"
"Who are you? What do you want? I'm not into women, you know." The hooker said.
"I need to talk to someone about something. I was hoping you could give me a few minutes." Marnie confessed.
"People pay me for my time, Honey." She challenged.
"I'll pay you. Here's fifty bucks. Will you sit with me in that café there, and talk to me for a few minutes?"
The hooker took the money, put it in her clutch bag, looked around to see if anybody was watching her, and went into the cafe with Marnie.
They ordered light meals. "So what's eating you so much that you would want to talk to me? I'm a total stranger to you. I can tell you are uncomfortable in this part of town, and this is the kind of money to that you would pay to a therapist." She asked of Marnie.
"Well, you see, I have this problem. Well wait, let me back up. I'm being blackmailed." The hooker's eyes widened with interest. "This man thinks he can have his way with me whenever he wants it. And he can, you see. He knows where I live, he has threatened to unleash his kid and the kid's friends on my daughter, and he has some embarrassing circumstances on me that could ruin my marriage." The hooker looked on with interest but little sympathy. "He has been gradually making it so that I need sex all of the time. My husband can't satisfy me completely any more, and the man doesn't demand sex of me often enough for that to cure the problem either." The hooker began to look a little more confused. "What I want to do is fix it so I have just a normal sex drive again that I can enjoy with my husband, which will give me time to clear my head so I can concentrate on figuring out a way out of my mess with this blackmailer. Frankly, if he were to call me right now, I'd go without hesitation, even though I know he would find a way to make it humiliating and embarrassing for me. I sort of figured that a professional like you would know how to turn the drive on and off to maintain your balance with what you do."
"Honey, you've come to the wrong place. I've got the hots all the time. That's why I do this. If I were an alcoholic, I'd probably be working in a bar. The only way I know to turn it off, Babe, is to get it on. The beauty of this is that you get paid for it." She said brightly.
"But, do you enjoy it with everyone you do it with?" Marnie asked amazed.
"Honey, you've got to take the good with the bad. Sometimes I've got to go with quantity over quality, but then that's good for business you see." She said advisedly. "I have a few rules, though. I don't kiss on the lips, it's just my thing; I don't allow them to cum in me without rubbers, I bring my own; and, no rough stuff, my man sees to that."
"Your man?" Marnie asked for clarification.
"Yeah. You know, what you'd call a pimp." She responded. "I make sure I get my money's worth from dealing with a pimp. Unlike these other broads around here though, he don't own me. We are business partners, and I keep it that way." She said.
"How does that work, exactly?" Marnie asked.
"You sure do have a lot of questions. I just get this feeling that they will go on and on. Let me ask you something. How old are you, thirty something?"
Marnie felt like she could tell more truth, "39".
"Well, I'm 24, and technically, you are old enough to be my mother, so what do you say we make this a 'take your mother to work day'. You can see for yourself what it is all about." The hooker said.
Marnie was shocked; she didn't actually want to enter this zone; she just wanted to learn from it. "But, but . . ."
"Here, pay the lady and come with me." The hooker said while holding on to her upper arm, impatiently. "We'll hang out at my spot together, and we'll pick up a mark that's into a three-way. I'll show you what it's all about. The longer I stay in here though, the more money is slipping through the cracks."
Before Marnie could protest, the hooker was pulling her out the door and down street to a few feet before a bus stop. "I really don't think I . . ." Marnie started to say before being interrupted.
"Here, I'll hold your arm to advertise us as a package. Just walk a little bit with me. Yes that's it. Now smile for that car. Yes. We'll get one, don't worry. Quick walk this way. I know that creep. We've got to put up the 'Not For Sale' sign. Good. You wouldn't want that bastard for your first trick." The hooker said.
"I don't think I should be doing this, really. It's illegal. I'm a housewife. I don't even know your name." Marnie protested.