April - From Teen To Street Hooker : Part 25
Chapter 8 - Left Out In The Cold
The only time I knew anything about the real world are the snippets that I'd see on the TV...Mark likes to watch news programmes, amongst other shows, so I'd get a hint from that. But, yes...Martika would tell me what my opinion should be on things that mattered.
That's sticking with 'The Programme' as she'd always tell me..usually between hits, kicks and verbal abuse. 'The Programme' is king.
...and I'm all about sticking to the programme.
Martika asks for me to get the coke out. Obviously, Sammy Jo doesn't partake these days but she used to party and shit, mainly with cocaine but sometimes with heroin, when she was younger. She'll do it, occasionally now....but today ain't obviously one of those days.
She lights up a cigarette and smiles as she watches Martika and I take a few lines of the well prepped stuff on the plate....Bent over, rolled up fiver, huge snort...wipe the nose...then onto the other nostril.
Samantha takes a drag of her cigarette...."Y'know, April, luv...It's pretty amazing. I remember you first seeing my daughter here, just before you were having your ears pierced. Heavy eyeliner. I know that wasn't your thing...and just about learning to smoke.."
"..And...look at you now? Banging out line after line of coke, looking hot and sexy. A seasoned prostitute. You've took to it well."
I smile, proudly "I have a good owner, boo.."
"Oh, less of that 'owner' bollocks. I hate that. But, you've applied yourself and I hear from the punters that I go with, well...they really like you too. That's good."
"Thank you, boo.." I start, reaching for a cigarette myself and lighting up.
There...blowing out the excess smoke before continuing "I have tried my hardest. I love the look, the attitude and all that shit. I want to get the same kind of rep that you and Martika have..."
Martika smiles...then shakes her head "You're not even in the same fuckin' league as either of us. Nowhere near..."
Samantha interjects "...yet..."
Martika "...yet...ok...alright...'yet'. Mum's been selling herself for over 30 years now...I'm in my teens. You? Just two fuckin' years. Bitch, you have a long way to go..."
"Whilst that is very true and accurate, luv.." starts Sammy Jo "...you have at least made the start. You have regulars, you must earn pretty well and you get on ok with the other tarts. So, I'd say that you're doing fine, luv. Ok? Forget about shit for brains here..", points at Martika "..I know a good hooker when I see one, and you'll get there. You're doing fine..'"
Martika looks uncomfortable.
"I do this to impress my owner, boo. Thanks for those kind words, but Martika's is the only opinion and praise that matters to me." I answer, looking my owner in the eye.
"That's ok, luv....but I'm always around if you want advice, ok?" Samantha finishes.
We have another brew, and Sammy Jo plays with Suzanne a little, before she has to go. We exchange hugs and she's gone.
The time has come to prep tea and do our normal routine. Miya and Jas are outside at this point, making a snowman and giggling. We join them for a little bit whilst food is cooking. It's lovely to watch them this happy together...working together...playing together....having fun.
Martika showers and changes....then I do likewise...as Mark gets home. He tells us that his day has went well and that we should "..wrap up warm tonight, and be careful on the ice..."
We chat at the dinner table....we eat...the kids eat...make small talk....it's nice.
Then we start to get ready, whilst Mark washes the dishes.
Respective cigarettes burning in the ashtray as we dress, do our hair, sculpt our makeup and put on all the bangles, rings and pendants and other shit... side by side...and chat about the night.
We're soon ready - Martika in black over-knee boots, black PVC mini skirt and black long sleeved scoop necked top.....me in my black boots, white leather mini skirt and a black top....both of us accentuating our breasts. Martika has, as she says '..a nice rack...' I'd agree.
Whilst Martika does what she does with Mark, I spend some time with the kids. They're wondering if I'm going to be making snowballs tonight. "No, boo...Just workin'.." I tell them.
Then....she's 'done' with Mark....we quickly head into the bathroom, banging out a couple of lines of cocaine each...clean up....grab our coats...hug and say goodbye to the kids and Mark....light up....and leave the house, heading into the night in the red-light area again.
The snow is tumbling down again. Not many bitches are out as we get to our spot. It is a bit unsteady under foot, but Martika demands that we look like slags at all times, so 4 1/2" heels are a must. If not? Well, that'll be no end of slaps around the face, right? So this bitch has to do what this bitch has to do.
Whilst there's not many tarts out, naturally all the bitches that Martika run's are out. Nobody phones in sick or any of that shit. I've seen them try to talk shit to her. I've seen them bitch slapped for their efforts too...and I have been on the receiving end too. Ain't nobody gonna cross her, boo.
I always get the customary "You do a good job or I'll batter you, bitch..." from my owner, to set me up for working. It used to scare me. Now...it just excites me.
Which is all well and good, but tonight just ain't my night, boo.
I'm having a shitter.
Although it's freezin', it's snowing and shit I can't blame it on the lack of punters on the streets 'cos them other bitches are working it. Me? Try as I might, I'm finding it hard to attract the punters.
Nobody's stopping for me.
I pull, like, 2 in the first hour I'm out there. 2 fucks. I see Martika get picked up a number of times. I'm stressed...which is not a good...and not the best time to hit the cocaine...but, I do.
I do an anal, so I make more money. I think that 'Yes, it's about to kick off...' as the punter is grabbing my leather mini skirted hips and banging away at me.
He cums...pulls out....throws out that used condom and, after getting our shit together, drive back to my spot.
I'm out, light up a cigarette and hang around, waiting for another punter.
Again...nada...nothing.
The night goes on like this. About 7 punters in total.
I'm shitting myself. How to tell Martika. What she's gonna do. She's gonna lose her shit.
I look at how much I've made...£350...That is shit.
End of the night, Martika is the last to finish. We're all waiting for her to appear and take our money. They're all looking nervous and apprehensive of what Martika is going to say to each of us.
One by one, the other bitches, hand over their money....there's £450 here...£500 there..£475...£430...another £500...another £450...then there's me, with £350.
Martika looks at me with disgust.
She takes the money, pays the other bitches their cut...whilst the snow is falling...they head off.
Me? I have to go home with Martika.
End Of Part 25
The only time I knew anything about the real world are the snippets that I'd see on the TV...Mark likes to watch news programmes, amongst other shows, so I'd get a hint from that. But, yes...Martika would tell me what my opinion should be on things that mattered.
That's sticking with 'The Programme' as she'd always tell me..usually between hits, kicks and verbal abuse. 'The Programme' is king.
...and I'm all about sticking to the programme.
Martika asks for me to get the coke out. Obviously, Sammy Jo doesn't partake these days but she used to party and shit, mainly with cocaine but sometimes with heroin, when she was younger. She'll do it, occasionally now....but today ain't obviously one of those days.
She lights up a cigarette and smiles as she watches Martika and I take a few lines of the well prepped stuff on the plate....Bent over, rolled up fiver, huge snort...wipe the nose...then onto the other nostril.
Samantha takes a drag of her cigarette...."Y'know, April, luv...It's pretty amazing. I remember you first seeing my daughter here, just before you were having your ears pierced. Heavy eyeliner. I know that wasn't your thing...and just about learning to smoke.."
"..And...look at you now? Banging out line after line of coke, looking hot and sexy. A seasoned prostitute. You've took to it well."
I smile, proudly "I have a good owner, boo.."
"Oh, less of that 'owner' bollocks. I hate that. But, you've applied yourself and I hear from the punters that I go with, well...they really like you too. That's good."
"Thank you, boo.." I start, reaching for a cigarette myself and lighting up.
There...blowing out the excess smoke before continuing "I have tried my hardest. I love the look, the attitude and all that shit. I want to get the same kind of rep that you and Martika have..."
Martika smiles...then shakes her head "You're not even in the same fuckin' league as either of us. Nowhere near..."
Samantha interjects "...yet..."
Martika "...yet...ok...alright...'yet'. Mum's been selling herself for over 30 years now...I'm in my teens. You? Just two fuckin' years. Bitch, you have a long way to go..."
"Whilst that is very true and accurate, luv.." starts Sammy Jo "...you have at least made the start. You have regulars, you must earn pretty well and you get on ok with the other tarts. So, I'd say that you're doing fine, luv. Ok? Forget about shit for brains here..", points at Martika "..I know a good hooker when I see one, and you'll get there. You're doing fine..'"
Martika looks uncomfortable.
"I do this to impress my owner, boo. Thanks for those kind words, but Martika's is the only opinion and praise that matters to me." I answer, looking my owner in the eye.
"That's ok, luv....but I'm always around if you want advice, ok?" Samantha finishes.
We have another brew, and Sammy Jo plays with Suzanne a little, before she has to go. We exchange hugs and she's gone.
The time has come to prep tea and do our normal routine. Miya and Jas are outside at this point, making a snowman and giggling. We join them for a little bit whilst food is cooking. It's lovely to watch them this happy together...working together...playing together....having fun.
Martika showers and changes....then I do likewise...as Mark gets home. He tells us that his day has went well and that we should "..wrap up warm tonight, and be careful on the ice..."
We chat at the dinner table....we eat...the kids eat...make small talk....it's nice.
Then we start to get ready, whilst Mark washes the dishes.
Respective cigarettes burning in the ashtray as we dress, do our hair, sculpt our makeup and put on all the bangles, rings and pendants and other shit... side by side...and chat about the night.
We're soon ready - Martika in black over-knee boots, black PVC mini skirt and black long sleeved scoop necked top.....me in my black boots, white leather mini skirt and a black top....both of us accentuating our breasts. Martika has, as she says '..a nice rack...' I'd agree.
Whilst Martika does what she does with Mark, I spend some time with the kids. They're wondering if I'm going to be making snowballs tonight. "No, boo...Just workin'.." I tell them.
Then....she's 'done' with Mark....we quickly head into the bathroom, banging out a couple of lines of cocaine each...clean up....grab our coats...hug and say goodbye to the kids and Mark....light up....and leave the house, heading into the night in the red-light area again.
The snow is tumbling down again. Not many bitches are out as we get to our spot. It is a bit unsteady under foot, but Martika demands that we look like slags at all times, so 4 1/2" heels are a must. If not? Well, that'll be no end of slaps around the face, right? So this bitch has to do what this bitch has to do.
Whilst there's not many tarts out, naturally all the bitches that Martika run's are out. Nobody phones in sick or any of that shit. I've seen them try to talk shit to her. I've seen them bitch slapped for their efforts too...and I have been on the receiving end too. Ain't nobody gonna cross her, boo.
I always get the customary "You do a good job or I'll batter you, bitch..." from my owner, to set me up for working. It used to scare me. Now...it just excites me.
Which is all well and good, but tonight just ain't my night, boo.
I'm having a shitter.
Although it's freezin', it's snowing and shit I can't blame it on the lack of punters on the streets 'cos them other bitches are working it. Me? Try as I might, I'm finding it hard to attract the punters.
Nobody's stopping for me.
I pull, like, 2 in the first hour I'm out there. 2 fucks. I see Martika get picked up a number of times. I'm stressed...which is not a good...and not the best time to hit the cocaine...but, I do.
I do an anal, so I make more money. I think that 'Yes, it's about to kick off...' as the punter is grabbing my leather mini skirted hips and banging away at me.
He cums...pulls out....throws out that used condom and, after getting our shit together, drive back to my spot.
I'm out, light up a cigarette and hang around, waiting for another punter.
Again...nada...nothing.
The night goes on like this. About 7 punters in total.
I'm shitting myself. How to tell Martika. What she's gonna do. She's gonna lose her shit.
I look at how much I've made...£350...That is shit.
End of the night, Martika is the last to finish. We're all waiting for her to appear and take our money. They're all looking nervous and apprehensive of what Martika is going to say to each of us.
One by one, the other bitches, hand over their money....there's £450 here...£500 there..£475...£430...another £500...another £450...then there's me, with £350.
Martika looks at me with disgust.
She takes the money, pays the other bitches their cut...whilst the snow is falling...they head off.
Me? I have to go home with Martika.
End Of Part 25
31-35, F