She Pt 01 Ascension

Movies and television give the impression that prostitutes come from broken homes, abusive relationships, addictions, poverty, insert an unfortunate affliction and that's the script. There's probably some truth to that, but that certainly wasn't her story.

Her middling success in marketing came more from luck and circumstance than wit and skill. She did her research, had a plan...she was a shrewd and cunning businesswoman regardless of where she stood today. She knew she could achieve the highest levels if she had the right opportunities. But those opportunities sometimes just don't come.

She had never done this before, selling her body. Well, not exactly. She had given managers what they wanted at times in order to curry favors. A flirtatious touch. A deep kiss. A high school throwback makeout session. A feel...

Her willingness to use her sex escalated over the years. It was her last ambitious move that pushed her over the edge, into sexual enlightenment. A partner at her firm clearly coveted her, and was uniquely positioned to influence her bonus. So she flirted with him at work, at happy hour, over text...well, more accurately she returned his advances. Over the months his boldness increased. A hand on her leg, a light caress on her shoulders, a light pat on her back (too low to be confused as platonic). But it really escalated when she responded in kind. Words. Touch. Gyrating her hips into his bold advances. Finally, a happy hour after a long couple weeks of work, they, the last two at the bar, both staying at the same hotel. He pushed the idea and she passively consented. In some ways it felt like a normal hook up, but for her, minus the sexual urge of physical attraction. Usually she was with guys her age and her selective standard of Apollo physique. But this day, she looked more like a pro. Young hot girl, older married businessman with high school children. The external imagined impressions pervaded her thoughts. She felt more like a prostitute than a coworker.

In the hotel room, she couldn't believe it was actually happening. She had a harder time acting natural since she wasn't there for pleasure, so much as for financial security. That he was physically abhorrent only fertilized the feeling she was transactionally whoring herself. Still, she expected an overall pleasurable experience, something new, experimental, no regrets. But what promised to be sensual and mutually pleasurable turned out to be degrading and taxing. His demeanor turned sinister as she was felt up seconds after the door closed behind her. His gentle touch was replaced by groping, forceful hands. He stripped her, turning her around, grabbing and pulling until she was nude before him, he still clothed. Rather than a willing equal, she felt helpless. Powerless, reluctant, but officially consenting. She was a willing participant in her objectification, a benefactor even.

When his hands landed on her shoulders, the weight was overwhelming, his height alone pushing her down to her knees. She was used to guiding this act, but she rather than active participation, her behavior was more reactive. She watched from point blank range as he undid his own belt and pants, pushing them down just enough to comfortably expose his genitalia. She started to flick her tongue out, she had a long sensual routine, but he wasn't responsive to that. No, he wasn't interested in her routine; he was going to dictate the contact, depth, speed. He grabbed under her chin with his right, the back of her head with his left. He was even going to control how wide she opened her mouth, alternating between her chin and her mouth with his right hand, jamming fingers deep and spreading her jaw open. When he was done with this rough digit foreplay, he thrusted deep into her face. This wasn't so much a blowjob as him masturbating with her face. A living sex toy, except alive with human emotions (humility, reluctance, fear) and reactions (tearing up, gagging, choking). Her reactions indicating roughness and struggle. Normally, her sexual partners would slow down, ease up, reading her struggle and recalibrating towards mutual enjoyment. But her humiliation encouraged him, made him harder and more vigorous, faster and rougher.

After a long while, it was apparent he wasn't going to stop until he came. His fast rough throatfucking shifted to sudden motion-silence, now using both hands to pull her head down and hold it deep, thrusting his cock as far as it possible would go, pushing even parts of his scrotum into her over-booked mouth. No vacancy for breath.

She braced herself for the hot deep rush of liquid at the back of her throat, so she was surprised when he suddenly ripped back, pistoned is dick with his hand, and came all over her face. She was covered in humiliation.

They didn't say much while getting cleaned up and dressed. She hurriedly scurried out of the room, the hotel, and into the comfort of her apartment. Days later, she found out the partner left the firm. She had been misled, seemingly brought closer to power-circle-favor-reciprocation, but in reality kept at a significant distance from the truth. She would never receive compensation for servicing him. She couldn't file a complaint - couldn't even admit her motivations for hooking up despite his deception, as the stigma for what she did permanently stained a woman's reputation. The injustice would never be overturned for a fairer result, as there was no avenue for confession nor means for enforcement. What would be even be enforced?

This was the last straw for her corporate career - she quit days later - deciding she wouldn't be so careless with her most valuable asset - her sex - ever again. She would be compensated - fairly - every time she used it.

Her year-end bonus was always greatest when influenced with her sex. With a career going nowhere in trajectory and in personal fulfillment, she finally concluded, why not apply her marketing skills towards her most valuable asset (her sex), and realize her maximum financial potential. Forget feminism. Forget modern societal values. She would live her life to the fullest, achieve wealth and leisure, make a rational financial decision. It would be risky and scary, but big gains are not achieved by risk aversion.

This move was not her falling. This was the beginning of her ascension. Upward social mobility.

She looked at herself in the mirror for a final check. There was no doubting her girly grooming skills. She looked sultry, sexy, gorgeous. She was ready.

And there it was, the light knock. She snuck over to the door and let in the first client of her new profession...