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Authors: Teresa Schaeffer
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blood off my face, the men rolled in, one after another.
I was picked up by a few different men, one of them being a regular. The first two weren’t so bad. Like I said before, what I do disgusts me, but they were pretty well mannered and didn’t treat me like a piece of garbage.
The second pick up was a quick job. We stayed in his car the entire time. He didn’t talk much, either – just drove around while I did what he asked. Gross.
My third and last client of the night was the asshole who left me in the state I’m in now, in this mess of a motel room. It was maybe two hours ago when this nasty man picked me up. When he pulled up next to me I had a gut feeling that he was a weirdo, and I should’ve followed my instincts. But instead I thought about the money. It’s too late for that now.
He had a nice car, a Mercedes SUV to be exact. Normally I would think a nice car like that would hold a decent person, but not this time. When I say decent, I mean more normal than most of the men that stalk this side of town.
Anyway, in his own way he was attractive. He was clean shaven, his hair was spiked in the front, and he was wearing a designer silk suit. Why he was dressed like that at 2am is beyond me, but he was.
From the moment he began talking to me I had a feeling that he was not a person that I wanted to be alone with. He was talking about some freaky stuff, like chains, whips and blindfolds. That is not my thing at all. Judging by his wedding ring, it’s not his wife’s thing either – that’s why he was out on the street looking for it.
It’s obvious that I decided to join him, because I’m lying here on this dirty floor. I shouldn’t have got into his car, but I did. I couldn’t resist the couple of hundred dollars that he was offering. I have never beengiven that much money by one person. Hell, I am lucky if I make that much from one night’s work. On most nights I only manage to make thirty to forty dollars, which is nothing. That small amount of cash used to take me a lot further – before I started using – but now it’s enough to grab a bite to eat and a pack of cigarettes. After that, I have a few more bills to spare that I could use for something else – but I need to save as much as I can. Like I said, Elijah used to be my supplier; he would give me meth for absolutely nothing. Now that he’s gone, I need to pay my own way.
Once I got into his car he immediately sped off. The interior was as immaculate as the outside of the car. It was fully loaded with XM Radio, a DVD player and leather seats. I tried not to look around, because I didn’t want to make him suspicious of me in any way, but I did manage to spot a small duffle bag on his back seat. That is where the horrendous night began.
He drove me to a motel fifteen minutes away from Benz Street – a motel I didn’teven know existed. I remember thinking that I had no idea where we were, and for the first time in a while I felt lost out there on the street.
The inside of the motel was like any other ratty motel in the area – dirty. The carpet and bed linen probably hadn’t been cleaned for a while, as well as the toilet seat in the bathroom – it was covered with urine stains. The smell of stale smoke consumed the room and the lighting was dim, immediately giving the place a miserable feeling.
I couldn’t understand why a man like him, obviously full of money, would want to stay in a room like that. I mean, he could afford better – at least a hotel that kept a maid service on duty every day. But perhaps he wanted a mangled room for his odd fetishes, or maybe he didn’t think a better one would suit a girl like me. All the same, it didn’t make sense.
Once in the room, he simultaneously took off his jacket and collared shirt, andthrew the duffle bag onto the bed. I stood there watching him as he silently dug through the bag. Normally I would be the one to take action, but this was completely different. I had no idea what to
I was picked up by a few different men, one of them being a regular. The first two weren’t so bad. Like I said before, what I do disgusts me, but they were pretty well mannered and didn’t treat me like a piece of garbage.
The second pick up was a quick job. We stayed in his car the entire time. He didn’t talk much, either – just drove around while I did what he asked. Gross.
My third and last client of the night was the asshole who left me in the state I’m in now, in this mess of a motel room. It was maybe two hours ago when this nasty man picked me up. When he pulled up next to me I had a gut feeling that he was a weirdo, and I should’ve followed my instincts. But instead I thought about the money. It’s too late for that now.
He had a nice car, a Mercedes SUV to be exact. Normally I would think a nice car like that would hold a decent person, but not this time. When I say decent, I mean more normal than most of the men that stalk this side of town.
Anyway, in his own way he was attractive. He was clean shaven, his hair was spiked in the front, and he was wearing a designer silk suit. Why he was dressed like that at 2am is beyond me, but he was.
From the moment he began talking to me I had a feeling that he was not a person that I wanted to be alone with. He was talking about some freaky stuff, like chains, whips and blindfolds. That is not my thing at all. Judging by his wedding ring, it’s not his wife’s thing either – that’s why he was out on the street looking for it.
It’s obvious that I decided to join him, because I’m lying here on this dirty floor. I shouldn’t have got into his car, but I did. I couldn’t resist the couple of hundred dollars that he was offering. I have never beengiven that much money by one person. Hell, I am lucky if I make that much from one night’s work. On most nights I only manage to make thirty to forty dollars, which is nothing. That small amount of cash used to take me a lot further – before I started using – but now it’s enough to grab a bite to eat and a pack of cigarettes. After that, I have a few more bills to spare that I could use for something else – but I need to save as much as I can. Like I said, Elijah used to be my supplier; he would give me meth for absolutely nothing. Now that he’s gone, I need to pay my own way.
Once I got into his car he immediately sped off. The interior was as immaculate as the outside of the car. It was fully loaded with XM Radio, a DVD player and leather seats. I tried not to look around, because I didn’t want to make him suspicious of me in any way, but I did manage to spot a small duffle bag on his back seat. That is where the horrendous night began.
He drove me to a motel fifteen minutes away from Benz Street – a motel I didn’teven know existed. I remember thinking that I had no idea where we were, and for the first time in a while I felt lost out there on the street.
The inside of the motel was like any other ratty motel in the area – dirty. The carpet and bed linen probably hadn’t been cleaned for a while, as well as the toilet seat in the bathroom – it was covered with urine stains. The smell of stale smoke consumed the room and the lighting was dim, immediately giving the place a miserable feeling.
I couldn’t understand why a man like him, obviously full of money, would want to stay in a room like that. I mean, he could afford better – at least a hotel that kept a maid service on duty every day. But perhaps he wanted a mangled room for his odd fetishes, or maybe he didn’t think a better one would suit a girl like me. All the same, it didn’t make sense.
Once in the room, he simultaneously took off his jacket and collared shirt, andthrew the duffle bag onto the bed. I stood there watching him as he silently dug through the bag. Normally I would be the one to take action, but this was completely different. I had no idea what to
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