Streetwalkers Rough Ride

She knew she wasn't the smartest person, but my God this had to be the dumbest thing she had ever done, and that thought alone was jarring. She had made a lot of impulsive and 'heat of the moment' decisions, some working out better than others.

She paused momentarily at the thought before continuing her walk down the quite city street. She thought about the decisions she had to make to get to where she was standing today. Running away from home hadn't been dumb, in fact, it was the smartest decision she had ever made. She had worked her ass off, working any job that paid money and was at least 'semi-ethical' for her to do back in her small home country town. It was one of those towns that had had one main street where the rest of the buildings were built from, it had a pub on every corner, a church on every block and the people were as pleasant as the world's most sour candy. She had never belonged there, that she figured out very early on in her life. Unlike the other kids, she had never seen herself settling for whatever meagre scraps it had to offer her. So, she knew that she had no other option than to get out.

And get out she did, the moment she had enough she was already halfway out the door. Barely saying goodbye to anyone in her rush, not willing to be caught or held for any longer than necessary in the slow little town that she had never once left previously. Her parents were the lazy religious kind that were common in small town, practically biting at the bit to disown her for any slight infringement she made. She knew they didn't love each other, knew that they married out of habit more than anything else, so having a child leave their care and not having to pay for their 'devious' needs anymore? It was a blessing from the God they seemed to love more than their own daughter.

On the train ride into the big city she had spent every moment calling every landlord she had found in her apartment research. Luck for once was on her side because she managed to find a rundown studio apartment that she could afford with the meagre money she had to her name and an ID that the landlord wouldn't be willing to look too close into.

It didn't hurt that the landlord was a fat old man that hardly looked away from her chest when they met, his beer belly so big the shirt wasn't able to fit and left a slit of the hairy oily skin bare to all who were unfortunate enough to glance over, but she could deal with his creepiness and smell if it meant the apartment was hers. And sure as shit, she had gotten it. She had enough money to make it secure, leaving other furniture until she found a job and more money under her belt knowing that security was her main concern. Like she said, she wasn't necessarily the smartest, but she was smart enough to know the priorities in a big city as a young single woman.

Work had been easy, she had worked enough causal jobs at bars and was able to embellish her resume just enough that she had been able to pick up bar work at a place a few blocks away from her new home, the continuous and almost guaranteed shifts along with the tips paid the bills and rent.

But she needed more.

She didn't want to live pay check to pay check. She had run from a small town that offered her the boring picket fence, lower economic lifestyle that her entire school had willingly walked into, as if it were their only option. She didn't run away from everything to get nothing. That wasn't her style.

This is where her luck was limited. There was no way she was getting into a formal corporate job with her ID let alone her lack of a corporate resume. It wasn't necessary for her to have a fake ID, in fact, she would have had a hell of a lot more money had she not invested in one, she was an adult. In the most part. Old enough to drink, vote and drive. But not old enough for most landlords, not old enough to work in most corporate places or have the embellished experience she had noted on her resume.

She wanted to live and wasn't willing to comprise on that.

So, what was the easiest way to earn large pay checks by her own accord as a pretty single girl?

She spotted a bench to the side of the cracked concrete pathway she had been strolling on the way to her destination and decided to fix up the ankle strap that had been annoying her since the moment she had stepped from her front door.

Humming a tune she couldn't place the song of, but nonetheless having it stuck in her head, she sat down- the cold metal touching her bare thighs almost making her jump in surprise. Chuckling at her own jumpiness she crossed her leg with the annoying heel over the other and leaned forward to tighten the strap that was constantly loosening. It was truly irritating. Especially considering that to walk in heels this high, she often dependent on the strap to keep the shoe to her foot.

Truly, it wasn't the worst option she had. Have a night of sex with an old guy who groaned weird and never see them again, right? A few other girls that she worked with at the bar brought up the idea when she mentioned wanted to earn more under the table and let her know the places to go, the places to avoid and some of the tips of the trade.

Shockingly it was quite a common job.

So, after she had spent an embarrassing amount of her day getting ready, plucking, shaving and choosing an outfit, let alone walking through her options. Here she was, sitting on a cold metal bench in the middle of the night, glancing around at the still empty street as she let her brain walk through the options once again.

What else could she do? She was already working the max number of shifts the bar would allow and it's not like she had the flexibility to pick up another job with the spontaneous and weird hours she currently had. Straightening up she rolled her neck around before going back to the strap of her ankle, finally managing to click it into place when she heard a rumble that had her eyes flicking up to the road which was no longer empty.

A sleek black limo had pulled onto the street, driving slow in her direction. It wasn't the kind of vehicle that you would see in this area, in fact, this wasn't something she had ever seen in person.

Her eyes clung to the pristine vehicle, watching as it slowed, blinker flicking on with a crisp tink that seemed to echo around her as it rolled to a stop on the side of the quite street, right in front of her.

Crap.

She watched, not willing to stand yet as the dark reflective window of the driver wound down. Unsurprisingly, the older man was fitted with a black and white tux, fitting the rich aesthetic of the shiny car. He even had black gloves from where he held the wheel, little bits of fabric missing from over his knuckles just like she had seen the movies.

"Ma'am" He greeted nodding his head softly "Are you working tonight?" What a formal way of asking if she was a prostitute, she mused.

"Yes" She replied softly without giving it much thought. Hell, what's one time with a rich dude? Get the money, go home and if she hated it? She would never have to do it again. Standing from her seat knowing that if she stayed sitting, she would hesitate at the opportunity that had just rolled up in front of her in the form of shiny black paint and expensive silver rims.

She watched, nerves making her stomach twist and butterflies causing the blood to tingle in her hands as the driver's door opened as he stepped out, moving around the vehicle silently and opening the door to the back, which shockingly opened upwards rather than sliding or opening like a normal car door. Rich people truly must have enough time on their plate and too much money in their hands that they had to start changing things that worked perfectly fine just for the fun of it.

"Please" The driver instructed, gesturing towards the black interior that looked empty from her current angle. Nodding, she straightened her dress momentarily before she carefully walked towards the door, not wanting to stumble in her massive heels and make a fool of herself. Just as she was about to duck her head to step in, the driver held his arm out stopping her.

"Where would you liked to be dropped off afterwards? I will ensure you will be returned after Master is ready to call it a night" She bit her lip thinking over the words he spoke; he implied it like they were to stay in the limo the entire time. Not that she minded, the limo, even from what she had spotted on the outside was far more luxurious than any hotel or home she had ever stepped foot in. The other parts that caught her attention was the title, 'Master', and the fact that she will be returned after he is done. No time limit, simply once he decides enough is enough.

Just once. She whispered to herself, it's not like this 'Master' was short a quid.

Just once. She confirmed to herself. If it didn't work out, she could at least rule it from her options, but she owed it to herself to do this, to her dream to at least try.

"Corner of Ryland and Forester, it's one block over from here. There will be just fine" He nodded moving his head from the way and she took that as an invitation and bent stepping in before sliding onto the closest seat so as to not have to waddle or crawl, though, maybe crawling would've truly set the mood. The door clicked shut, casting her in a soft light that was a far cry from the harsh whiteness of the streetlights as she placed her bag on the seat and turned to where she had noticed another figure.

'Master' wasn't ugly at all. In fact, he's someone she would have admired had they run into each other in public. He was an older man, but fit. The suit no doubt expensive and tailored as it clung to his arms, thighs and chest exposing his muscled and healthy form. His beard was almost completely silver with salt and pepper curls styled neatly on his head, thick eyebrows to match above a set of dark eyes that were set soul on her.

He gave off a powerful vibe, legs spread arrogantly as he leaned back against the expensive leather seats, a shining crystal whisky glass in his left that almost looked as apart of the outfit as the dazzlingly watch seated on his thick wrist, while his right hand rested on his knee, an equally dazzling ring on his pinky finger. That was for sure a rich thing, how impractical to have a ring on your pink finger? She watched as his right hand moved, cleaning a piece of no doubt invisible lint of his thigh, the action not serving much purpose than exposing the veins on his hand to her gaze.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat she managed to get her shit together, "Hi" she said softly, starting to feel uncomfortable under his unyielding strong gaze in silence "My names Annabelle", which was obviously not her real name, but gosh, what else should she say? This was never something the girls had given her hints on. Should she just blurt 'Hi, I'm Annabelle and I'll be your prostitute tonight, can I serve you anything to start with, perhaps a blowjob?' Surely not. And it's not like there's a proper guide, like a prostituting for dummies book she could've read in preparation, she knew that for a fact as she had checked the closest library and book store to her apartment before work yesterday.

"Call me Master" His voice was deep and made her jump slightly, a result of focusing on the rambling in her head rather than the present situation. He sounded like every older movie star in top movies she thought momentarily. It was raspy, like years of fine cigars and expensive whisky had aged his voice gracefully, it made him sound expensive. "Come here. Crawl to me".

Just one night. No turning back now. She felt as the Limo started moving underneath her, the sensation of going backwards thankfully not sickening, just odd to her.

Pushing off her seat and letting her bare knees touch the carpet that was as soft as she had imagined, she pushed off the seat softly and lowered her chest so that her hands dug into the soft threads beneath her.

Her dress was silky, short, and black. It looped around her neck with a gold chain so he wasn't getting a peak of her breasts that were naked beneath the silk, but she could imagine that the outline was clear as she crawled towards him slowly, swaying with the natural curve of her body. She had chosen the dress due the back of it, which was practically non-existent. The material only joining low on her tailbone to reveal the black lace thong that was the only thing beneath the silk and peaked out in a way that was 'on accident'. The dress itself only stopped just after her ass, any movement no doubt causing it to ride up when she was walking normally, let along crawling along the floor.

If the driver could see back into the cabin, he was no doubt getting quite a nice view. It was a dress that she loved and knew it fell on a very thin line between classy and dangerous. Fitting for her night out on the town.

Her eyes locked with his and surely this wasn't the normal clientele. He was stunning, stunningly gorgeous, and dangerous in equal parts. Her heart was hammering beneath the silk of her dress wildly as her throat felt dry and hands became tingly. She hadn't done this before, but she had pictured hundreds of different men she would encounter, most looking more like her landlord than this god of a man in front of her.

She had expected to listen to an old fat husband complain about how he was lying to his wife that he was working late as they found an empty car part so he could fuck her for two minutes. That was if he lasted that long, she could imagine the awkwardness between them and how after the act she would be disgusted with herself as he would make snide remarks about her to make himself feel better for the lack of performance.

But then he would hand her the money, drive away and she would never have to see or even think about him again.

Not 'Master', a James Bond lookalike- no, a James Bond Villain. This man didn't give off savour vibes, savours didn't go around looking for young girls to fuck for money. This man was dangerous, she knew that instinctively, her gut was screaming at her, as did her mind. He wasn't someone you could just forget, and that, more than anything was what concerned her.

Reaching his legs she straightened herself up, letting her hands slowly touch his legs, his right hand dropping to his side as he rose the whisky glass to his mouth as she tightened her grip on his knees, the first touch out of the way making her slightly more confident, allowing her to push her hands down his legs, digging slightly into the muscles as she did.

The pants he wore, black and creaseless, matched the rest of his suit and felt like silk under her hands. Soft, smooth and without a crease or pill of fabric out of place.

The soft groan that left his mouth was almost a growl, she kept her hands still at the tops of his thighs for a few seconds before sliding them back slowly to his knees with the same pressure. He emptied the drink before dropping the glass to the seat, letting the ice spill out carelessly beside him before grabbing her hands and pulling softly, but firmly, so she was forced upwards stumbling as he opened his thighs wider to accommodate as she was pulled further into them and kneeling straight on her knees with her hands placed on his chest, face's inches away. So close she could almost taste the burnt aroma of the whisky on his lips, see the few black hairs that were scattered in his beard and moustache that hadn't yet been aged white with age.

Her heart was pounding within her chest. In fact, she'd bet the money she didn't have that he could hear it clearly.

"This limo will not stop unless I say so" His voice was low, a clear warning "I will not say so unless I am satisfied". She gulped wondering not for the first time what the hell she had gotten herself into. She watched, her breathing picking up as he reached over to his spilt glass, never pulling his eyes from her as he grabbed an ice cube and pulled back dropping his hand between them and out of her view.

She could have easily glanced down, but that would mean detaching her eyes from his and she wasn't sure how to do that.

She felt as his finger brushed her thigh, cold and slightly wet from the ice as he trailed it upwards, pulling the fabric with his hand until he reached the lace of her thong. He didn't hesitate as he tucked his finger underneath the fabric before the rest of his hand followed.

Almost squirming under his watchful gaze his other hand came up and gripped her throat, causing her head upwards slightly as he gripped firmly, not painful, but enough for her to feel the power he had over her.

He could kill her.

He could kill her easily.

She felt his cold fingers dive deeper towards her core as he lowered his head, brushing his lips over hers. She didn't know where to focus, how to focus on the two competing actions that pulled her attention. But as he lowered his lips onto hers, hand pausing just in front of her mound the choice was made for her.

He groaned as he pushed his lips against hers, she moved hers instinctively, hands dropping back to his thighs as his tongue brushed against her lips as her eyes fluttered shut. Opening her mouth she slanted her mouth against his, allowing his tongue access, which he took immediately.

She jumped gasping against his lips as his hand with the ice moved, she felt the coldness instantly against her folds as he pressed it between them holding it there making her flinch. Uncaring as she wiggled against him, he continued to kiss her, no, devour was the right words.

His mouth moved demandingly against hers, tongue moving so deep inside her mouth they were hardly able to move away to breathe as his hand holding her throat fluttered, fingers dancing across her skin, a simple but effective reminder of their position.

She winced as the ice was then forced inside her, her body automatically trying to pull away but the grip on her throat tightened causing a whimper to escape her as she tried to clench her thighs against the painfully cold item that was pushed into her warm heat. The ice was melting easily amongst her heat, his hand slowly moving the freezing cold water around her folds as she tried to ignore the pain the coldness the cube was causing as her inner walls hugged the foreign item tightly.

"Good girl" His rasped as his mouth pulled from hers slightly, hand retracting from her thong and reaching up to gently pulling a soft strand of hair that had fallen over her face, letting it fall back into place damp. "I'm not hard man to please" He stated, reaching his hand to where her hands still gripped his thighs as she wiggled feeling conflicted at the cube that had all but melted inside her, but the sensation, the imprint, of it had yet to vanish. Gripping her right hand, he pulled it, forcing it to his belt as his lips tugged into a smirk that was anything but comforting. "You just have to give me every inch of you in the way I demand" his voice was clear, and firm, and she knew what his actions were asking, no demanding her to do.

Maybe she should have stuck with bar work.

But the unspoken command was clear. Pulling his belt, she unclasped the shiny metal buckle before releasing its grasp on the other end. Finding the button she quickly popped it open before pulling down his zipper. Unsurprisingly matching silk boxers lay underneath, but thankfully they were the kind men could slip themselves out to pee. That would at least make her life easier. His hand, still gripping her throat firmly tugged upwards forcing her head upwards and their eyes to lock once again as she reached into his pants, her hand pushed in, finding he was warm under her fingers and large, he felt larger than normal or at least larger than the other guys she had slept with.

She carefully pulled him out, not wanting to injure him in anyway and risk the wrath of this man. There was something in the air, the way in which he commanded and dictated each of her moves. The absolute power he held over her, how the sense of helplessness settled deep in her gut, warning that this situation was not safe, that he was not safe.