They wanted a girl to “entertain” some big Japanese or Chinese guy. I really wasn’t happy about being in the house alone with him but my guy said it was big money.
The same guy who got us into the posh party (more about that later) made a connection to a big house in the very best part of town. The house was owned by some huge company who used it for visiting VIPs and they wanted a girl to “entertain” some big Japanese or Chinese guy. I really wasn’t happy about being in the house alone with him but my guy said it was big money and he said that him and his contact knew the address and knew I was there so what could he do? He drove me to the place and it had a high brick wall and a solid gate with a little intercom on the gatepost. I was getting more scared by the minute but I pressed the button and said the line I had been given.
“I am Amy from Catering Support.”
Picture me as I walked up the gravel drive to the front door. I am five feet nothing with straight brown hair landing on my shoulders. No makeup or earrings or anything. Wearing a grey hoodie with the hood down, maroon T shirt and black leggings. Trainers on my feet with white ankle socks. Badness knows what the guy thought he was getting.
He opened the door before I reached it and he was a bit of a shock. Dark trousers with a crease that could cut butter, shiny shoes, white shirt and he was fat! I mean this guy hadn’t seen his feet for decades.
He stood aside for me to enter.
“Welcome Amy.”
The house was modern, light and airy with light colored wood flooring and he escorted me to the lounge which had three huge leather sofas and an open spiral staircase leading upwards – no dungeon so far.
I was getting uncomfortably hot so I undid the front of my hoodie as the guy sat on one of the sofas and directed me to sit on his lap. We both knew what I was there for so I put my arms around his fat, short neck and his hands began to roam across my body, boobs, back and belly and then down between my legs which I obligingly parted. He dragged off my hoodie and threw it on the carpet then he gripped the hem of my T shirt and pulled it off which mussed my hair in a way which I know guys like. My bra was the bare minimum but he left it in place for now and told me to stand up which I did, looking down at his still seated bulk.
“The trousers and shoes please.”
I kicked off my trainers and shimmied out of my leggings which were pretty much tights. I was left in stringy bra and my pale pink cotton briefs with camel toe very much in evidence. He put one hand to his groin for a quick squeeze or rearrangement of the equipment then he stood up and waved his hand towards the stairs. I went up ahead of him, feeling his eyes on my bum as he followed close behind. He steered me to a bedroom which was bigger than our bedsit. He sank back on the bed, removed his shoes and pulled me down with him so that he could lick my face as if he were a huge Labrador. His hands were at my bra which got thrown into the wings then he rolled onto his back with me on top of him and told me to get rid of my briefs.
His hands were between our two bodies as he unbuttoned his shirt and shed it onto the floor – for some reason I had a flashback to my mum, “Your bedroom floor is not a laundry bin.”
His trousers and pants were shed and we were skin to skin. His mouth moved to my tits and nipples and his hands were groping me down there as he wriggled his fat body into place to do what he wanted to do. I could feel that he was hard but it was quite an effort for him to get into place with that huge gut between us. Fortunately the groping had the desired effect so when I felt him start to move past first base, I raised my body up to meet him and he slid in quite smoothly then he started humping me with a noise like a steam engine. His cock was not particularly long or thick so that was not a problem but I had real problems in breathing with all that weight on top of me. His face was scarlet when it bobbed into place above my eyes in between going back and forth then, with no warning, he let out a roar at full volume. I thought he was orgasming and maybe he was but his whole body locked up in mid thrust and I saw the terror in his eyes. He was gasping for air now and he had rolled off me onto the bed beside me. One arm reached out towards me and he tried to say something in whatever language he spoke. His free hand went to his chest and I was as frozen as he was – I had no idea what to do. Then he just fell back onto the bed and he was still with his eyes wide open.
I lay there getting my breath back for a while and feeling the chill as the sweat dried on my skin. Then self-preservation kicked in and I jumped off the bed and put my undies back on before running into the lounge and finding my other clothes. I was careful not to touch anything. He had let me in so I had not touched the front door and I didn’t think I had touched anything else apart from him. My phone was in the pocket of my hoodie so I called up my guy and didn’t say what had happened but I did tell him to get the car outside the gate fast, our arrangement was that he would be parked somewhere nearby but out of sight.
I had a handkerchief in my pocket so I put that over my hand and looked in the hallway for a button to open the gate. The box on the wall beside a little TV screen was quite obvious and there were only two buttons so I opened the gate and then ran for it slamming the front door behind me. I ran into the street looking out for my rescuer – who was nowhere in sight. I walked away from the house along the tree lined road and then I saw the car. He stopped, I jumped in and just yelled at him.
“Just drive..now..go.”
We never heard any more about it. After all, it was not a big story; the cause of death will have been obvious and it will also be obvious that he had been having sex. My DNA will have been all over him but I was not on any database and I had broken no laws. Street hooking is illegal but being a call girl is not. And would the bank have wanted their dirty laundry all over the newspapers?
Perhaps this would be a good time for me to tell you a bit more about how my life was at that time. It was a wild ride with lots happening in quite a short space of time. You are certainly not going to get it in any logical order and some bits I am sure I have completely forgotten. There did seem to be a lot of waking up naked in a strange bed, feeling lousy, and having to hunt through the place to find where my clothes had ended up. The whole thing was too much booze, too many pills and smokes and too much sex.
I know one time this dealer turned up demanding his money which we didn’t have and my guy looked at me and looked at the dealer and before I knew it, we were on the bed and he was pulling my jeans down. He was good as it happens and I didn’t have a problem especially given that the other option involved getting a serious slap. He had this enormous cock and he really went for it. Of course, once he knew that he could, he came back and my guy would just find a reason to go out for a walk. Dealer guy did come to be a bit too much because he knew I wasn’t in a position to refuse him; he would get impatient if I took too long getting stripped and he would grab me and tear the clothes off me then force me down on the bed without bothering about whether or not I was “ready to receive”. Afterwards, he would just dress and leave with me usually curled up on the bed dealing with the pains in my vitals.
Every night there seemed to be a party and mostly I didn’t know whose place we were at. There was one place I remember that had really narrow stairs leading up and no light on the stairs and they smelt of damp and mold. The room we got to was full of people, some on a sofa, some on bean bags and some just on the floor. It reeked of weed so you could hardly breath and most of us didn’t know what was real. There was one tiny bedroom but it was full and some guy, probably the guy who lived there, pulled up the old fashioned sash window and a few of us spilled out onto the flat roof under the stars. I was stark naked with my back on the roofing felt and everyone was changing partners. Pretty much as soon as one guy rolled off me, the next one would be on me. It was all very chaotic and intense and I ended up covered in saliva and cum; I must have been stinking. There must have been about three couples out there and I don’t remember feeling cold. I do remember I couldn’t find my undies among all the clothes on the lounge floor and I went home without them – well home to where we were dossing at the time. That was the next morning after we had slept some of it off.
And somehow one of the guys got to know about this rich party and four of us rocked up in his car. We parked up and walked to this huge house with steps up to the front door. It was the guy and me and two other girls and we were all in really strappy tops that were hardly there and skirts up to our armpits. He was getting paid for the gig and he said we’d share the cash afterwards.
There were all these guys all talking like public schoolboys but some of them were old and flabby. There seemed to be loads of them and lots of girls I didn’t know and we all got passed around. All the guys were pissed out of their skulls and we had drinks pushed into our hands and we had to knock the drinks back so we were ready for action. It must have been a huge house cos I remember being in lots of different bedrooms perhaps with one guy or sometimes two at the same time. I got fucked senseless in every way possible. My clothes came off very fast and then it was just me and my skin and be thankful for the pill. All the guys were pretty much animals – does money do that to people? I got my ass spanked over several guy’s legs and they weren’t just playing; they didn’t ask permission and they held me down till they were done. It wasn’t just me; I saw several girIs getting hit and all of us howled. My head was down facing into the bed with a big hand pressing down in the small of my back. I had snot running down my face onto the bed and my legs were waving all over the place giving the guy a grand stand view of my vulva which is about the worst, most humiliating view you can give. In between slaps, he would grope me down there making me squirm and moan and then the smacking would start all over again. I was sore for days afterwards. I don’t remember seeing any money; I think it all went on back rent or more dope or something.
Some nights we would work the pubs and bars. In the street you could get picked up by the cops or smacked by girls who owned that pitch but you could go into a bar and a guy would pick you up and you could talk price and then go to his car or your own crash pad. We always had a guy nearby in case it turned lairy and the guy took his cut. Some Johns would do it standing up against a wall in an alley and that was chilly but it was fast and you could move onto the next earner.
There was a lot of low level drug dealing and there was this Detective Sergeant on the Drug Squad. He was in his forties, overweight with no hope of promotion and he was taking kickbacks instead of nicking us. It ended up like the dealer; he came round for his wad which we didn’t have and my guy was explaining to him that we couldn’t hand over what we didn’t have. I sort of sidled up alongside and started nuzzling his neck then I grabbed his crown jewels and found that he was as horny as hell. We only had one room so the bed was right there. We stripped each other on the bed and by this time he was losing steam so I had to use my hands and mouth to bring him to attention. I knew he would only forget the money if he got a proper fuck so that’s what I gave him until he was semi-conscious. My guy had buggered off as soon as we got started. I lifted some notes from his wallet without him noticing; if he noticed afterwards he could hardly do me for theft. “And can you tell us Sergeant how far you were from your trousers when the theft took place?”
One night my guy got into this biggish dope deal. He had bought quite a big stash from his supplier and he had a buyer but he asked me to be his runner. He said a lone guy could get picked up by the cops for nothing at all but a male cop stopping a girl has to be careful and he would never dare feel up my boobs which is where we put the bags of dope.
So I was walking innocently along this street and I turn into the alley where we are going to do the deal and suddenly there are two guys coming into the alley after me. I look over my shoulder and start to run when a biggish woman appears at the other end of the alley waving a warrant card in front of her. I turn round to face the two plain clothes cops behind me and instinct takes over. I throw a punch, miss his nose and hit him high on the cheekbone. I didn’t see exactly what happened next but I find myself belly down with my head an inch above the pavement and my hands getting cuffed behind me. Obviously the whole thing was a set up. The cops must have known about it all along and my guy had a suspicion that something was wrong but he couldn’t turn down the chance of all that cash so he sent a poor, stupid mule.
I won’t bore you with the long story of the police cells, being on remand and going to court but I end up in Category B prison on the Isle of Wight. I never snitched on the weasel who got me into this which meant I couldn’t give my address so all my stuff was gone. All I had in jail was the clothes I was arrested in and three grey tracksuits and five pairs of white cotton knickers provided by the jail. Women are allowed to wear their own clothes inside but, as I said, all my stuff was gone. You get six pairs of knickers so I had one pair of my own and five from the jail. That either means you get Sundays without any or you don’t change them every day.
There are only about two Cat A jails in the country so Cat B is pretty high security. They had me for drug dealing and assault on a cop which probably accounts for the Cat B. After intake, I was put into a two person cell and that is where I met Cherry who had the bottom bunk. We spent a lot of hours locked up together and eventually a girl has to “take care of business” down there if you know what I mean. I tried to be discreet but I see Cherry’s head popping up beside me as she climbed the ladder.
“If you want to do that you better come downstairs where it’s more private.”
There are no cameras in a normal cell but the guards, male or female, can look through the peephole in the door whenever they like. Prison is strictly a “No Contact” environment and, if they catch you, you can get solitary which is no fun at all.
However, at night when the lights are low, you can put a pillow on your bunk under the blankets and two bodies on the bottom bunk can look pretty much like one.
Never having been at boarding school, I had never really done it with a girl but Cherry was and is dynamite. She began so gently exploring and subtly working me up. She was whispering sweet nothings into my ear and occasionally my ear would get a tongue or even a little nip from her teeth. Her very skillful hands went inside my clothes and, unlike a man, a girl knows EXACTLY where to touch and rub and stroke. It did not take me long to return the compliment under her guidance and instruction. We were never naked, that would be too big a risk, but clothing did not seem to be a real barrier in fact there is an extra intimacy about hands inside clothing. Our mouths locked together and we shared the air (prison air stinks all the time). Our necks moved as one and tongues interlaced and gripped and explored.
Jail is definitely NOT a good experience but let’s say that my cellie helped me through it.