April - My Life on the Game

A work of fiction.

April : My Life On The Game

Chapter 2

It's 2017. 7 years down being a prossie. Been a hell of a start.

Towards the end of last year, my boo had gone a bit off the rails. Not with drink and drugs but with another guy. She's been, like, fucking Mark's mate, Paul, for a while...Mark had been fine with all that...only....she fell for the fucker. Pretty hard too.

Mark, bless him, he was in pieces. Paul also works as a lawyer. Paul, apparently, banged Martika at the wedding. Literally, she was walking down the isle to marry Mark with her cunt full of his semen. He had full knowledge of it as well. How cool is that? Obviously I was nowhere around at that point in her life but that's what Mark always told me, with a sly smile on his face.

So, Paul had previous.

I know that Paul was picking her up, as a punter, and shagging her and from there it turned into something else. It lasted, like, 8..9...10 weeks or so....but Mark was very distraught about it all. Tried to keep that shit to himself....tried not to cry in front of her or the kids....but I saw it, from time to time.

Anyways, she saw the light at some point. Paul tried to get Martika fucked up again on drink...tried goading her into drinking...and, as we know, Martika was a raging alcoholic who was given months to live if she went back to it....so that whole thing exploded.

Naturally, during this time I kept my head down and did my shit. What I was told to, y'know? Being my owner and shit, my thought is whatever her thought was. That's how I live. My boo thinks for me....I just earn for her.

Pretty fuckin' simple.

I'm just out on the streets, looking like a hot piece of ass, and selling myself. That's all I need to know. That's all my owner needs me to know too. The rest would just give her stress. Her having stress equates to me getting a fuckin' beating.

I don't need that shit.

I've had plenty of beatings over the years. That's called not getting with 'The Programme'. Well, I am down with the programme, boo. I leave the rest to the other bitches.

They mouth off to Martika, they get a fuckin' slap. My sister, Candy? That bitch learned the hard way, boo. These days whatever Martika asks, she does.

I saw her just yesterday, at the brothel. We had a hug and we talked. The bitch is totally down with the lifestyle and we were talking about punters we'd fucked, what drugs we'd done...y'know...typical hooker shit. It was nice.

So, anyways....My owner had seen the light, thank fuck. Mark really is a nice guy. Never made a play for me but if I was asked to bone him, I'd certainly do that. Y'know what I'm sayin', boo? He is fit! I get on with him very well indeed. He's a doting father too. Reminds me of mine.

Ah shit...think I'm gonna get emotional now.

Mark loves Martika...think anyone can tell that statement....but he wanted to teach her a lesson.

With that in mind, and also knowing just how close her and Emma are...y'know, the streetwalker that I first met with her, back in the day? That I was trained with gangbangs at her house? Her closest hooker friend? You don't? Wow....

Just...wow!

Fuck....you really need to start reading my earlier shit then. Catch up....then come the fuck back to me to read the newer shit. 'K? Got that? Off you go...

We on the right page? Good...'cos it's really...fuckin'....important.

Narrative and shit, y'know?

So...teaching Martika a lesson....and '..knowing how close her and Emma are...'. Right. So, Emma has always had a soft spot for Mark. I've heard it a lot. It's always been 'You're lucky to have Mark..', or a 'Ah, he's so great with the kids..' or a '..he knows you so well..' or a '..he does that for you? Cool babe..' thing.

That translates to 'I wish I had a Mark', or more specifically, 'I wish I had Mark'.

Now, don't get me wrong, boo. Martika has lots of acquaintances, but she hasn't got many friends. Not many at all. Mark has, I think, pretty similar....though he knows a lot of people. Lawyer types, y'know? Goes on socials....some play golf, and whilst he's not down with that shit, he'll do it with them from time to time.

Long and short of it was that Emma saw her chance....Mark saw his chance....and I know they had always liked each other....so they hooked up.

Martika was distraught. Devastated. Her husband....and her best mate? One upmanship if ever I had seen it, boo.

Never seen her so upset. Well....I have....when her grandmother died and she went on that power binge? Nearly fuckin' killed me. She expected me to keep up with her. She nearly killed herself over that shit.

But, this time? She wasn't gonna hit the bottle. Nor do a shitload of drugs, which is what we normally did in times of crisis.

No, this time the bitch surprised me. Saw that her hooker lifestyle was too claustrophobic for her and her family so she needed to get with 'another programme'. One that had more balance. Y'know?

Literally, before all this year it was drink, drugs, prostitution, clothes, smoking...the church and children. That was pretty much it. Oh, and throw in some fitness shit in there too....as she felt she was a bit overweight at times. The church shit was something that her mum made her do.

That was it.

I had heard from Samantha (you know about Samantha, her mother now, right don'tcha? Good!) that she used to paint and all that shit. But I'd never see her paint. Never once.

So, she'd wear more normal clothes, y'know? Not, obviously, all the time...but she'd be wearing skinny jeans and leggings from time to time. Not all day, as she had, in PVC trousers, leather jeans...leather mini skirts. Not that shit. She bought jumpers and t-shirts. Just typical housewife shit.

She'd do shit that she used to do, before life on the game, so she'd paint and go to museums and stuff. Spend some time with her dad, Toni.

I saw dad...he was her adopted father. Just like me, bitch never knew who her dad was. Her mum, Samantha, was early into her prostitute lifestyle then and I heard her say to Martika that she could narrow it down to '...around 70 different men..'. Toni had, later, married Samantha and just a few short years later, when he discovered her prostitution lifestyle, dumped her and took Martika with him.

So she was brought up, moved away from Sheffield to this little Derbyshire town, into this Italian descent family, who's mother (Martika's grandmother) hated Samantha and called her 'quella puttana' (that whore in English) or 'quella prostituta' (Ah...I think you know what that translates as..), but never her name of Samantha.

But Toni, like Mark later, doted on her and treated her as his own. Toni is an artist....a fuckin' great one, boo. Think she got her interest and her abilities from him too.

Anyways, she'd meet up with him more regularly through this period of time too. I'd sometimes tag along. He knew I hooked for Martika but never that she was my owner. She was a little embarrassed about that and thought that he'd lose his shit over it. Which, to be fair, he probably would've.

So I'd meet him. We'd all end up going to look at some painting or sculptures or something like that. Not really my bag, boo....but I do and think what Martika tells me to do so if it's paints and crap like that then that's what I like.

He was a nice guy. Took her out of herself.

Mark and Emma went on dates and all that. He'd get babysitters whilst me and Martika were out hooking. Look around, there's no Emma there....that must mean that she's getting banged by Mark.

Bitch kept her head up. She's proud. Still hooked. Still did her best. Still ran us bitches too. I helped as best as I could.

Anyways, Martika as a 'normal girl' was her effect to try to bring Mark back to her.... which, it eventually did. Ruined her relationship with Emma though. Fuck that bitch, right? Cunt!

So Martika was more normal, a bit more everyday. Not as 'full on' hooker mode. She had days off. They went on dates and shit. To be fair, that's what they tried to do before but the dates got less and less frequent. These days, my owner makes sure that she has time off every week. Just her and Mark, right? She can afford it. He can afford it.

She's running 17 of us bitches so she's making, like, £13k a night. Something like that. So she's clearing something like £10k -£10,500 as neither me or Candy take any money.

...and they're getting on well. I'm glad. It's been, like, 4 months like this.

But...today....I get word from my owner, of course, that she's had a message from Mark. He's meeting Emma for lunch in town. Not know why.

Mark and Martika are always pretty transparent. He told her he was fucking Emma in the first place. Mark, obviously, knows that Martika hooks and, sometimes, he's in the mood to hear about her night on the streets. Fuck, he's even taken her and Emma, back in the day, dogging. Y'know?

They're very open and honest. Which is why he's telling her this.

Anyways....it's evening time now. Kids are back from school. Martika's making tea, alongside me. I'm in all my hooker shit - red leather skirt, black halter neck top, fishnets, bangles and shit - and we're smoking and prepping stuff, ready for tea. Martika is in stonewashed jeans alongside her 'Spice Girls' T-Shirt. bare foot too. The Spice Girls are her fav band, from back in the day.

Kids are watching some TV shit.

Mark comes in. Martika asks me to take care of the kids and the kitchen door, that's always open except for when Mark bangs Martika before she starts her shift - a tradition - so the kids ask.

"Is mummy and daddy alright?"

There's Miya, Jasmin and Suzanne...all looking at me.....there's slightly raised voices from the other room. Anguish. Upset. I'm worried. At least no shouting, which was something that we did have in the household a little.

So Martika come in, a little tearful. Bitch has been crying. Her mascara is still in place, thank fuck, but her red eyes give her away....that plus the tissue.

The kids are worried. But she puts them at ease..."No, sweethearts, all is good. Nothing to worry about. Miya, can you take Jas and Suzie out in the garden to play a little while? Thanks honey."

They go trundling off.....slightly hesitant....definitely oblivious....to what is about to go down.

Martika drops the bombshell.

Emma is pregnant with Mark's child. Yes, it is his....and no, she doesn't want an abortion.....yes, Mark would like this baby.....no, that doesn't mean that Martika and him are splitting up....no, that also don't mean that him and Emma are getting together....yes, that means that they will co-parent the child....and, yes Mark would like Martika to accept all this.

She nervously lights up another cigarette.

She continues....

She loves Mark with all her heart.....and that she'll stand by him and accept the child as one of his...and be inclusive of Emma and the child....as much as she possibly can.....but she feels that this won't happen straight away.

I'm shocked....going through the motions of nodding and, I guess, paraphrasing the shit back to her. Wow...this I think will change things a lot.

Then Mark talks of how proud he is of my boo...of her acceptance of this shit...that it's a lot to take on...that he loves Martika and that she is the love of his life...that they have been through a lot...and this is just something new....and they'll get over this too.....but he will always be there for Emma and his child.

Mark continues "Look, I know this is all a bit much, but it won't break us. It's just something new, that's all. We're tight together. This doesn't change anything from the last couple of months. I'm happy with how things are going. You continue as you normally would. You're out working tonight, yes?" Martika nods "..So don't let it affect that. You go out, do your shift and fuck whoever, and we'll be alright."

We eat. Mark chats as normally. The kids do what kids do. It's pleasant.

Then both myself and Martika excuse ourselves and make our way upstairs.

Martika's alright. Calm. Keeping it together. She goes to shower first as I get my clothes and jewellery ready to wear tonight.

Then she's out of the shower and getting herself sorted. I pop in the bathroom. Use the toilet then it's shower time.

By the time I'm out, Martika is in her tight white leather mini skirt, white lacey top and gold belt. She's just drying her hair.

She stops. "You wearing this tonight April?", nodding towards my blue leather mini skirt, black top and over-knee boots. "Sure, boss. You like?" I answer. She likes being called 'boss'. She nods. Good.

"Hopefully I'll be getting you a shitload of coin tonight, boo.." I answer, smiling.

I douse myself in perfume and put on the clothes - bra, suspender belt, stocking (seamed fishnet, of course!), boots and top. Martika's hair all done, backcombed and shit. I'm just putting mousse and shit in my hair and putting the dryer on it. We've got our makeup out, Martika lights up a cigarette and gives it to me, before lighting herself one up. Then we go to work.

Foundation...concealer....blush...eyeliner...shadow...lipgloss....brushes and pencils.... artistically creating these streetwalkers that we are.

We talk throughout. Martika always does the best talks. Making me horny, making me ready to sell myself, to pull punters

Intermittent drags of our cigarettes....getting our shit together...looking hot...then, on with the jewellery - rings, pendants, bangles, earrings etc - and then we're good to go.

We head downstairs....Martika has her 'happy time' with Mark whilst I chat to the kids...then it's checking in my handbag, making sure I have what I need; Lippy, cigarettes, lighter, chewing gum, rubbers and a spot of perfume too. Oh, and an empty purse that we carry to put the 'cash for gash' in.

We head out, after grabbing our coats, blessing ourselves and lighting up. Heaving first to the brothel. Martika wants to check in and see how things are going. All is good. We do a couple of lines of coke with Donna. She's the only one around at the moment. Candy, we can hear. She's getting some cock in her upstairs and Sarah's just heading down with her punter.

We say hi.

There's a guy coming in...baseball cap....and we're heading out, suitably refreshed. Martika tells me he's one, of quite a few, that come from the local football team. Cool.

And so, that's the thing. We fuck anyone and everyone. There's quite a few of the Police force that we service, shall we say. Some doctor's and nurses. Some lawyers. Some actors...and actresses. A fair few sports celebs, as we have said - football and ice hockey - and lots of regular people,

Anyone that pays, right?

Se, we hit our spot. All the bitches are out. Me and my owner are out there chatting. I think she's calmer now than what she was earlier. She says that she can't do anything about it...and, to be fair..she can't. We do see Emma over the other side of the road. She's trying to be inconspicicuous...but, with the beginnings of a baby bump there it's far from bloody subtle. Y'know?

"Fuck that slag, boo." I tell her.

We get into streetwalker mode. Stroll the streets, hips are a swaying. Martika pulls first..car punter. Off she goes. I pull my first shortly afterwards.

A dark blue Audi slows down, at my feet, window down. I stop....stoop....look in at the driver and give out my prices. He wants anal...so he pays and I stroll around the front of his car, popping the cash in my purse in my handbag before getting in. Seatbelt on and then saying hi and directing my punter onto the car park.

"Nice mini skirt" he says.

"Thanks, boo."

"Blue looks great on you..."

I smile. We're there. A couple of cars are there already. One is driving back. Guess that's Martika's punter.

Seatbelt off, I stroke my punter's chest...seductively....then ease myself into the back of the car, looking behind me as I give my punter a rubber. I hear the tear and he puts it on.....then...hands on hips, easing up my leather skirt....and feeling him gently ease his penis into me...slowly...he's solid....and then he starts rocking into me....slowly....the lubrication from the condom helping to ease the ache.

But, who gives the fuck about my feelings? 'Get over it, bitch!' I think to myself. 'I'm here to earn for my owner. Stop being a fuckin' wuss.'. That comment makes me smile.

Like, a little over 7 years ago when I came into Martika's orbit and signed the contract, after 'proving' myself with getting her tattoo branding, she'd noticed I hadn't had my ears pierced and called me '..a fuckin' wuss..' when I was having them done, tears in my eyes.

It takes away the thoughts of pain...and the pain subsides as he hammers away at me. He's really gripping on my hips, deep sighs and moans....and the creaks of the leather seats.

15...20 minutes later....he spasms...and climaxes....filling that rubber with his milky emission.

He pulls out, throws his rubber out the window as he struggles to pull up his cargo pants. Then, into driving position as I shimmy down my skirt and back into that passenger's seat...a little bit uncomfortable....but...get over it, bitch!

We drive back, I get out. Stretch my legs and light up.

Phew!

Onto the next.

...and the 'next' doesn't take too long to turn up, boo! I'm just taking one last drag of my cigarette when this guy turns up, on foot, asking for a blowjob.

Cool.

I take him down the alleyway....Martika's on one side, blowing her punter, and there's Felicity further down with hers, just cumming in her...so we head down right at the back....and do the deed.

Cum spurted....swallowed...and penis tucked away...all to the soundtrack of the other bitches on heat....and back to my spot.

I pull a bunch of punters - some on foot, most in cars - until around 9:30pm when this car pulls up, window down that this hot chick asks if I'm "..up for business?"

"Sure boo, It'll be £80. You down with that?"

She nods her head and reaches for her purse, giving me the 4 folded £20's, which I take...take a last drag of my cigarette and throw that to the ground, put my heel on the butt, and pop the money in my purse...all whilst walking across the front of the car and getting in.

"Mmmmmmmmmm......you look delicious, boo..." I coo to my new fuck buddy.

We drive...we chat....we park up in the carpark and get down to it. This'll require me getting off my Blue leather jacket.

I like girls. I like pussy. Problem being that they take so fuckin' long to get off!

Never mind...got this job to do.

So, I ease her down in the car....pulling down her jeans....kissing her on the neck...the lips....her bellybutton....hands on hands....hands on breasts.....hands down panties.... pulling them down...and lowering my lips, slowly, to her neatly trimmed minge.

She shudders....

I lick....around....and then in the slit.....tongue darting inside her....all the while my hand tweaking her breasts. She likes that....

I finger her slit.....gently.....gently...deeper....deeper....then two fingers.....slowly... deeper... deeper....then three......picking up the pace....

"You like that, boo? Got a nice an' inviting minge there....you're so wet....that turn you on, boo?" I sensually whisper....

"O-Oh.....yes.....O-oh....yesssssss!" she whimpers.

I kiss her inviting neck whilst I pump her cunt...pulling out only so much as to rub her bean...punter loves that...She arches....she spasms.....I pump her some more....deeper and deeper with my fingers...now very wet with secretions.....I pause....taking my fingers out.....putting them in front of my face, so she can see.....then I lovingly lick them....

"Oh...gooooooodddddddddd" she moans, eyes rolling in the back of her head, as I continue my assault with fingers and lips....

20 very long minutes......and there she blows! Finger's clenched by her throbbing, spasming vagina...in a vice like grip.....until she shudders herself to completion.