Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional mind control, rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.
*****
She shifts on her knees, the concrete always hurting after a couple of hours in her "office". Wet, sloppy. slurping, sucking, throat noises fill the piss-smelling alley, as she blows a man old enough to be her father. He was one of her regulars, always stopping by on his morning commute. A good string of clients like him made for reliable daily money.
His dick starts throbbing, she hears a groan, then a load of middle-aged cum floods her whore mouth. Locking her sky-blue eyes with his, she makes a show of swallowing before popping her soft lips off his tip. Clients expected certain things, and they'd all add up in your rating per session. Watching him stumble off pulling his slacks up, and running at the same time she hits the end session button. Her phone pings funds transferring directly into her account. "Probably worried about being late.." Groaning she gets to her feet bending over to rub her aching knees. "Maybe I should get one of those yoga mats or something?" She asks casually to herself, like she didn't just rent her mouth and throat out.
A few moments later, she's leaned up next to her gas station's entrance. A swig of mouthwash is already swirling around her mouth. It was a daily struggle to get the cock taste out with the constant blow jobs. The manager lets her post up at her favorite spot chasing away other contractors. She just has to give him a freebie once a week, along with a group discount for his idiotic friends, and their football games. Running a hand through her dyed jet-black short hair, a grossed-out expression moves across her beautiful pale face, feeling a clump of dried jizz.
The morning commute was drying up, the last of the stranglers filling their tanks. A couple of customers came and went, all of them dwarfing her small figure. She was only 5'1, and in her early twenties but looked much younger. The way she dressed didn't help, it was like she never left a teenage punk rock phase. She smiled at them, but none of them looked overly interested. Either that, or they were broke no one wanting an early morning quickie.
Then twenty minutes passed, without anyone even walking by. Sighing she starts hoping a job pops up, with the loud little ping from the app. Her hopes weren't that high, monday mornings weren't the most active Everything was paid for weeks ago rent, bills, expenses. But her band needs new gear her backline getting fried by rain after the last gig. Her stoner drummer had left it out in the back of his truck over the weekend. The rest of the band were couch serving, live with their parents, deadbeats. So it always fell on her to pick up the bill. Everyone told her, or at least guys trying to get her pants without it popping up on their bank statement, that she'd make it big someday. Truth is she sucked and so did her screamo emo vocals. The local bars in town still hired her for gigs though knowing she was the main attraction, and not her music.
Just when she was about to give up, and head out tell the lunch rush, her phone pings. The app was set up like any Doordash/Lyft/Uber order system. It had the client's picture, and he was actually kinda hot not a neckbeard. Her eyes went wide when she saw the incentive worked into the offer. Then going down the list she sees it's a 24-hour pass, which has its own payment. No one offered this much incentive, what was the catch? And she found it, a miserable rating. Before she hit the decline button, she switched over to check the contractor reviews wanting to see what the problem was.
