A string of broken relationships, falling in love with the wrong guys, years of physical and emotional abuse had begun to take its toll. Morning after morning Jane had woken up, either alone or in a damp musty motel apartment with a few dollar bills left on a bedside table as payment for 'her services'. More often than not her head was still spinning from the cocktail of drugs and alcohol she had consumed the night before. She had lost count of the times she had taken a shower to wash away the remains of the congealed sperm from her body or which seeped out of her orifices from the guy or guys she had let take advantage of her in a number of debasing activities.
Almost a year ago she had hit rock bottom, an evening which had nearly cost her life, but instead had transformed her in to the seductress she was now.
She had woken up that morning with the usual toxic hangover, her body in pain from the abuse it had taken the night before. She reached for a cigarette, took a swig from the hipflask she always carried on her and made her way to the shower. Just as she got to the bathroom, the stench of detritus filled her nostrils and she gagged instinctively. She backed away, stifling the vomit which had gathered in her throat. She quickly dressed, putting the torn stockings and soaked knickers in her bag and looked on the bedside table for any money.
"Cheap bastards," she swore flicking through the small wad of notes and then stumbled towards the door.
The heat of the mid-morning sun hit her instantly, she felt light headed and put a hand onto the door frame to steady herself, her other hand brushed her long hair back behind her neck as she bent over and vomited in the doorway.
"Keep walking darling," she faintly heard.
Jane looked to her left, wiping the side of her mouth with the back of her hand and saw a couple taking a wide berth as they ushered their young daughter past her. The child turned back to catch another glimpse of her. The mixed look of horror, disgrace and pity in the child's eyes felt as though Jane had been stabbed with a knife, cutting out any remaining dignity she had once had.
She made her way to the corner of the street feeling degraded and ashamed. She managed to hail a taxi, told the driver her address and sat gazing aimlessly out of the window. The grime on the window added to her soiled mood, she closed her eyes, felt the gentle touch of the air-conditioning on her brow, the light fragrance of the taxi driver's aftershave and slowly the blurry images of the dirty outside world dissipated.
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Quickly rinsing off the soap Jane stepped out of the shower, her skin tightened as the sudden drop in temperature was emphasised by the warmth of her glistening wet body. She grabbed a towel and quickly dried herself before putting on her bathrobe. She sat on the bed, pulled her gown back over her thighs to keep warm, wrapped her hair up with another towel and began to pour herself a drink. She opened the laptop and logged on to the site she used for her 'evening activities'. She read the messages which were waiting, more hopeful admirers looking to meet (saved), a couple of badly spelt one-liners asking her to get on cam so they could wank over her (deleted) and a few commenting on the pictures on her profile.
"Should have seen me this morning," she laughed as she sent a quick thank you reply.
She unwrapped her hair and began drying it just as she was pinged with a private chat message.
'Sorry I underpaid you this morning.'
She instantly stopped drying her hair and starred at the screen.
'and for leaving you in that hovel of a motel,' read the second message.
She hit the close button, feeling uncomfortable and slightly angry as this morning's events came flooding back to her.
A few seconds later she was pinged again.
'I doubt you want to chat, but give me a chance to make it up to you. If you close the chat again I will take it as a no and leave you alone.'
'I promise,' he added quickly.
Jane downed her drink, poured herself another and stared at the screen. Her initial response was to close the message again, but the amount of money he had left, or lack of it, had only just paid for the cab fare home.
"Cheap bastard!" she muttered and downed the second glass.
A few minutes later the next message arrived.
'Thank you for not closing the chat.'
'You said you wanted to make up for it, what do you have in mind?' she began typing, pausing for a few seconds before hitting the send button.
'I would like to meet up again,' came the reply.
'Get to the point,' she typed, 'I am not exactly in a patient mood tonight.'
There was quite a long pause before the next reply came. She read his message, a carefully written set of invitations, stating how he would like to spend the evening with her and compensate her very generously.
She poured another drink, put her lips against the glass then stopped as the image of the girl's eyes flashed in her mind. She put the drink down in her lap, placed her head in her hands and squeezed her temples to block out the guilt and sense of disgrace for putting the child in a situation to witness such as scene.
She put the glass on the bedside table, screwed the top back on the bottle and decided to not have anything else to drink.
"Small steps," she smiled to herself as she imagined the child nodding back at her approvingly.
'Sounds very interesting, but give me a reason why I should believe you.' She answered, hitting the send button quite forcibly.
'I don't have one, but you know where I would like to meet which is a million times more luxurious than last night. The driver of the car, I will send for you, has been informed to meet you at a place of your choice, and then walk you into the hotel lobby where I will personally meet you. You can choose to get in the car or send him away and return home without any further contact from me.'
Jane gave the proposition some thought. Part of her was telling her that this was too good to be true, there must be a catch. However there was still part of her romantic self which told her that she deserved to be treated better and this 'Pretty Woman' opportunity would never come again.
She stood, removed her gown, walked nakedly into the bathroom with her whiskey glass and poured its contents down the sink. She brushed her hair and put it back into a pony tail and returned back to the bedroom and then opened her lingerie drawer. A few minutes later she was stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself. She adjusted the seams of her high lace top stockings, taking the time to ensure they ran perfectly straight down her legs. She stepped into her lace basque, loving the way it pushed her breasts together and accentuating their shape. Finally she adjusted her suspenders, before pulling on her thong.
She rubbed her fingers over the front of her thong, then gently pressed the lace against the opening to her clit. She could feel her excitement growing, not just at her touch, but also from what she had read tonight.
She went back to the laptop and typed her answer.
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Exactly on time, the sleek black limousine turned the corner and pulled up alongside her. The lights of the train station she had chosen to meet at reflected on the highly polished paintwork of the vehicle, but there was a strange illusion that the light was being absorbed by the vehicle's obsidian colour. The driver got out, nodded towards her and opened the door to the limo. She paused, held his eyes for a few seconds then, took his hand and entered the dark interior of the limo.
The door to the limo closed, sealing her from the outside world, cocooning her in plush leather surroundings. On the seat in front of her were a single red rose and an envelope which she reached for. She felt, rather than heard the driver get in, and then the dividing screen between them opened.
"Good evening Ma'am, the journey will take around 30 minutes," the driver informed, "please help yourself to the drinks in the cabinet on your left."
"Thank you," she replied and began opening the note.