I Will Share Some Stories From My Past Life.
Hi I'm Sarah...and, as a change from talking about various punters I have been with, and having talked about - as a comic geek, this is cool - my 'origin' story, involved in prostitution...I thought that it'll be a little interesting to explore my 'entry' into this lifestyle.
It involves clothes and smoking. Sounds intriguing? Good...well, let's start.
My bestie, Amber, taught me how to smoke back when I was 16.
I’d know, of course, that she smoked years before that. She’d started, apparently, when she was 12 and, going to school she’d light up on the way and then coming back from school she did likewise. Never offered me one. It wasn’t my thing. But I was around her.
This goes on for years and years - to and from school - and she starts dying her hair blonde, blonder than mine, and just getting all grown up. She leaves school before she’s 16 and starts working.
Anyways, we had a spell when I was still at school and I’d not seen her for a couple of months or so. No real reason, just that we were both busy.
I call to get her help with my homework and revision, one evening after school and she’s at the door...4” heels, fishnets, little black leather mini skirt, big gold belt, red sweetheart top, bangles, pendants, rings... meticulously made up with a cigarette between her fingers.
This really wasn’t the Amber I knew! She looked so much grown up.
Anyways, after that shock had subsided and I was able to calm down, she helped me with my homework. Made me a cup of tea, whilst we were doing stuff. Heels clicking on the floor.
The next week, then the next and next....we’d meet up and she’d help me revise. I knew of her new lifestyle - prostitution - and she seemed so happy. I was jealous! At school in our little uniforms...we looked like kids. I looked like a kid. But...Amber...
Anyways...jealousy got the better of me...and Amber did kind of entice me....wondering if I wanted to try on her clothes. Of course I did!
There’s that whole thing that goes off in your brain in which, nervously, you’re trying on your best friend’s clothes and you just know that she’s been wearing them and, on her back, getting fucked by her punters. Smelling of sex. Semen. Perfume. Cigarettes. That whole thing. It’s very intoxicating.
One time, we were sitting side by side. Smile on each of our faces. Amber pulled out a cigarette for me.
“Girl, you need to smoke.”
“But, I don’t want to..”
“Fuck off. I know you. Here...”
..and she gave me a cigarette, took one herself, and demonstrated how to light one up.
Of course, I did...and promptly started coughing! But, she told me to relax and just follow what she did. It got easier. Another cigarette, another practice.
I’d go ‘round to see Amber, whenever she wasn’t working, and the routine would be the same; some school work, some dress up and then a cigarette or two.
Somewhere along the lines, and I really can’t be sure just how, I’d agreed to trying out with Martika at her brothel. So, I eventually met her at Amber’s.
Blonde. Heavy makeup. Another leather mini skirt. Again, another girl with a cigarette. She was talking about prostitution...really selling it to me. Making it sound glamorous. I recall she took her compact out, a package and promptly did a couple of lines of what I learned was cocaine right in front of me.
That was heavy.
Then she just carried on talking, like it was nothing.
I’d never seen anyone do drugs before, let alone so close up. It was scary. But, she seemed a nice person.
“You want a cigarette Sarah?” she asked, as she lit her cigarette up.
“No thanks.” I answered.
“Wrong answer. Let’s try again, eh? Do you want a cigarette?”
This time I accepted. Amber lit me up.
Martika went on to say that she ran a lot of girls in this red light area and they had one thing in common. They all smoked. She made it compulsory. “Hooker’s always smoke.”, she reasoned. You didn’t smoke, you didn’t work for her. You didn’t work for her, chances are that you won’t work in this neighbourhood.
You have to understand, that back at that time - 11 years ago - the Martika that I met then was caring, cool, friendly, warm and supportive. She had a way with words. Made you feel special. Made you feel that you could be a grown up like her too. As we know, things didn't run that course towards the end of our friendship, but at the start? God, I thought that she was the coolest women in the world!
..and so I learned to enjoy smoking.
These days? The best part of 2 packs of cigarettes - 30 a day for me - and I still enjoy smoking.
Sarah 💋
It involves clothes and smoking. Sounds intriguing? Good...well, let's start.
My bestie, Amber, taught me how to smoke back when I was 16.
I’d know, of course, that she smoked years before that. She’d started, apparently, when she was 12 and, going to school she’d light up on the way and then coming back from school she did likewise. Never offered me one. It wasn’t my thing. But I was around her.
This goes on for years and years - to and from school - and she starts dying her hair blonde, blonder than mine, and just getting all grown up. She leaves school before she’s 16 and starts working.
Anyways, we had a spell when I was still at school and I’d not seen her for a couple of months or so. No real reason, just that we were both busy.
I call to get her help with my homework and revision, one evening after school and she’s at the door...4” heels, fishnets, little black leather mini skirt, big gold belt, red sweetheart top, bangles, pendants, rings... meticulously made up with a cigarette between her fingers.
This really wasn’t the Amber I knew! She looked so much grown up.
Anyways, after that shock had subsided and I was able to calm down, she helped me with my homework. Made me a cup of tea, whilst we were doing stuff. Heels clicking on the floor.
The next week, then the next and next....we’d meet up and she’d help me revise. I knew of her new lifestyle - prostitution - and she seemed so happy. I was jealous! At school in our little uniforms...we looked like kids. I looked like a kid. But...Amber...
Anyways...jealousy got the better of me...and Amber did kind of entice me....wondering if I wanted to try on her clothes. Of course I did!
There’s that whole thing that goes off in your brain in which, nervously, you’re trying on your best friend’s clothes and you just know that she’s been wearing them and, on her back, getting fucked by her punters. Smelling of sex. Semen. Perfume. Cigarettes. That whole thing. It’s very intoxicating.
One time, we were sitting side by side. Smile on each of our faces. Amber pulled out a cigarette for me.
“Girl, you need to smoke.”
“But, I don’t want to..”
“Fuck off. I know you. Here...”
..and she gave me a cigarette, took one herself, and demonstrated how to light one up.
Of course, I did...and promptly started coughing! But, she told me to relax and just follow what she did. It got easier. Another cigarette, another practice.
I’d go ‘round to see Amber, whenever she wasn’t working, and the routine would be the same; some school work, some dress up and then a cigarette or two.
Somewhere along the lines, and I really can’t be sure just how, I’d agreed to trying out with Martika at her brothel. So, I eventually met her at Amber’s.
Blonde. Heavy makeup. Another leather mini skirt. Again, another girl with a cigarette. She was talking about prostitution...really selling it to me. Making it sound glamorous. I recall she took her compact out, a package and promptly did a couple of lines of what I learned was cocaine right in front of me.
That was heavy.
Then she just carried on talking, like it was nothing.
I’d never seen anyone do drugs before, let alone so close up. It was scary. But, she seemed a nice person.
“You want a cigarette Sarah?” she asked, as she lit her cigarette up.
“No thanks.” I answered.
“Wrong answer. Let’s try again, eh? Do you want a cigarette?”
This time I accepted. Amber lit me up.
Martika went on to say that she ran a lot of girls in this red light area and they had one thing in common. They all smoked. She made it compulsory. “Hooker’s always smoke.”, she reasoned. You didn’t smoke, you didn’t work for her. You didn’t work for her, chances are that you won’t work in this neighbourhood.
You have to understand, that back at that time - 11 years ago - the Martika that I met then was caring, cool, friendly, warm and supportive. She had a way with words. Made you feel special. Made you feel that you could be a grown up like her too. As we know, things didn't run that course towards the end of our friendship, but at the start? God, I thought that she was the coolest women in the world!
..and so I learned to enjoy smoking.
These days? The best part of 2 packs of cigarettes - 30 a day for me - and I still enjoy smoking.
Sarah 💋
26-30, F
