Historia 8 La Cita 2 Parte
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In His Hands: Part One free porn video
My room was a mess, which was typical of me. I was a mess, too: long, dark hair untrimmed, dull clothes hanging loose, nose unpowdered, and nails unpainted. Honestly, I was lucky that I could feed myself with all the care I took.
Nonetheless, the clients found me. I had just finished dinner when the intercom beeped, letting me know that someone was watching. It was a courtesy. It gave a worker about ten seconds before the client's camera came on to hide methers, if you were into drugs, or to get into a provocative position, if you were into tips. I didn't worry about either, though tips would have been nice. It's just that I'm no actress. Me in a provocative position was about as natural as an elephant in high heels.
The intercom opened; I heard the air on the microphone. Somewhere--in a comfortable viewing room, no doubt--some man was strangling his cock while he looked at me.
"Hi. I'm Andrew."
"Maddie," I answered, looking at the closest camera. "What can I do for you, Andrew?" It wasn't politeness. That was the script we had to follow.
"I want to watch you come."
I nearly groaned. If I managed it, Andrew would be paying for my food for the next week. Chances were, though, that he would get bored waiting for me to get there because it took me a million years. "OK," I said. I didn't sound very enthusiastic and I knew it.
I crossed the room from the tiny table for one to the tiny twin bed for one. I hadn't made it when I woke up that morning and didn't bother to straighten the sheets now. I laid down and lifted my gray shift to my waist. No underwear. What was the point when it just came off and on all day?
The intercom came on again. "I paid to use your hands."
I sighed. Of course he did. "There's a red button next to your screen," I told him. "Push it."
I knew the instant that he had. I lost all sensation in my arms from the shoulder down. Four years with the implants made the sensation less foreign but no less troubling. Andrew flexed my hand and made a fist. He ran his hands down the inside of my thighs. I was told that he could feel everything like they were his hands. And I was like some arm-less vessel waiting for the guy to get over the novelty.
He used my hands to lift my shift over my chest, exposing my breasts. He pulled on my nipples, chafing them a little. He was gentle enough that they hardened. "Very nice," he said. It was a disembodied voice over my head. I wondered if his hands felt disembodied, too.
My hands skimmed my torso, taking their time getting to the goal. I opened my legs, looking up at the camera, hoping that this would go better than it usually did. Fingers parted me.
"You're dry," Andrew said.
"There's lube on the table," I said, glancing to my left.
"I want you wet, naturally," he said. His voice had a strange command to it. Most guys who came to me were shy. I imagined pimple-faced twenty-somethings with some irregular feature: a big nose or crossed eyes. Something that made them want to watch me and not want to be seen. None of them spoke with authority.
"Open your legs wider," he ordered. I obeyed and got a strange thrill out of it. Fingers played around my vagina, penetrating me shallowly, teasing the opening. My other hand caressed me from my ass to my front and back again. When he parted me a second time, his finger was slick. At least he didn't insist on rubbing me raw.
He started a rhythmic stroke and it wasn't half bad for aim. I felt bad for the guy. If he had picked another girl, she would be calling his name already.
"How does this feel?" he asked.
"OK," I responded. There wasn't any tension in my voice. He would know I was lying if I said it was mind-blowing. The only thing worse than lying was being caught in a lie.
He teased over me for a few more minutes until he hit a thrilling spot. I made a low sound. He concentrated on that square inch of flesh and my legs opened wider.
"How about now?" he teased.
"Much better," I said breathlessly. I thought I heard his chuckle on the other end of the intercom.
While he worked the spot, he penetrated me with two fingers. This went on for a while, stoking me slowly higher and higher.
"You're flushed," his voice observed, the stroke not slowing, "but, you're quiet. Are you getting closer?"
"Yes," I gasped. My fingers moved with more purpose; I pushed sensitive flesh into them. He gave me more friction and a promising tickle started.
Suddenly, he stopped touching me and my body lost its tension. It was a damn shame though not an uncommon occurrence with me. The sad thing was that I probably could have come with this one. I looked up at the camera. "I'm sorry, Andrew. This is my fault; I'll make sure you're refunded. Or, Sarah is two rooms over and she comes if you look at her funny."
"Were you close?"
"Yes. I'm just--"
He found that perfect patch of real estate and slipped my fingers over it again, cutting me off. My body obligingly opened to the sensation: my legs straining wide, my knees trembling. The pleasure was doubled after being taken away. My back arched and I heard his chuckle again.
Then he stopped. This was an interesting development. I was frustrated and let him see it, since I sensed it was what he wanted. It was rare that a client's desire and my feelings ever lined up.
He started again and I immediately felt the promise of fruition. "Do you want to come?" he asked me, his voice uncharacteristically calm.
"Yes."
"Beg me."
It was a game I heard other girls describe. Voyeurs don't usually make such requests. But, clearly, this wasn't a typical voyeur.
"Please," I breathed. "Andrew, please."
"Please, what?"
"Please, make me come. Don't stop."
I sucked at dirty talk, too. But, I was actually aroused. The words came out of my mouth unpremeditated.
His fingers went harder and rougher. "I want to fuck you," he said.
"No," was all I could manage. I was about as turned on as a person could be but that didn't mean that I was going to go from a watch-and-touch prostitute to a full blown anything-goes prostitute.
"No?" Andrew asked. He kept working me.
"I don't...."
"I'll pay."
"That isn't something I do," I whimpered. I was so close and there was something about his desire for more that kept me aroused.
"You should. You're fucking delicious."
The complement pushed me over the edge. His touch didn't slow and I undulated against it, unable to stop my moaning. Hey, I was like anyone else: I liked to come. I just didn't get there that much. "Yes," I groaned. "Oh, God, yes."
The fingers worked me until I twitched with overstimulation. Then, sensation returned to my arms and hands with an electrical tingle. My fingers were pruney from working me. My arms were weak.
"Was that a real orgasm?" he asked me while I caught my breath.
I looked up at the camera. "Yes."
"You could fool me if you faked it, you know," Andrew said.
"I never fake it. That's why I'm so fucking poor." He laughed openly at that. I decided that I should just stick to the script. "Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, Andrew?"
"I was serious when I said that I wanted to fuck you. Can we meet?"
"I'm sorry. I don't do that."
"Not even for a hefty overpayment?"
That was an interesting development. Most voyeurs aren't well-funded. "Ask for Alice," I told him. "She'll treat you right. Block five."
"I don't want Alice."
"I'm sorry Andrew. I can't help you." I got up and hit the green button on my wall that cut him off. He now had two choices: leave me alone or pay again. It was enough to turn off the few other offers I'd had. At least I knew that I would have enough money for a meager breakfast tomorrow. I turned off my availability and rubbed my arms. If there was any other way to make a living, I would have already done it.
#
"You're distracted," Alice told me in the cafeteria.
"I'm just thinking about a creep from last night."
"A creep? You mean a client?"
"Same difference."
She rolled her eyes. "You're going to starve with that attitude."
We got up to the cash line and she put the back of her hand under the scanner. It chimed. "Anything else...Alice? You have one hundred forty-three credits remaining." She had plenty of money for eggs and pancakes.
"That's all," she said, waiting for me.
I looked down at my banana and toast; and held out my hand, hoping I had enough to pay for it. The scanner chimed and I breathed in relief. It was a lucky morning for me. Sometimes I could only afford the free coffee.
"Anything else...Maddison?" the food service computer asked me. "You have twenty-one credits remaining."
"Twenty-one?" I asked.
"Three credits deposited in your account November 21 by client Brian Downing. Twenty credits deposited in your account November 23 by client Andrew Mueller," the computer recited. I stared at it until I got pushed from behind.
"Andrew Mueller? The creep from last night?" Alice asked.
"Yeah. You're welcome, by the way. I told him to ask for you if he wants sex."
Her eyes lit up. "Thanks!"
We sat down at a steel table. Alice and I had been at the orphanage together. When she turned eighteen and got turned out of the group house, she came straight here. Legal prostitution with a promise of shelter and security. I, on the other hand, tried to go into the military. I missed the height cut-off by two inches. Jobs were only gotten through the government and they had no interest in a no-skill little nobody like me. Six months after Alice, I entered the same brothel. That had been four years ago.
You could be any kind of whore you liked here and you lived according to your popularity. I only let clients watch and I got paid accordingly: a single room with one meal a day, usually. The implants in my arms were because I couldn't make enough money to eat without them. It was pennies for a peep show but the arms gave it a bit of kink that earned me more. Alice worked on her back; she had a small apartment and a new dress every time I saw her. More than once, she had given me food.
Alice kicked me under the table. "Stop daydreaming. If they think you're done, they'll take your food."
She was right. I munched on a piece of toast.
"Still thinking about client Andrew?" Alice teased. "Try a little make-up and a dress that isn't gray."
I gave her a look. "I'm not trying to get him to come back. It was a one-time thing. He really wanted sex."
"Hopefully he'll come back for me, then." Everything was very simple for Alice.
I decided to just change the subject; it was easier. "How was your night?"
"Lovely. It was just me and Vince. He brought me platinum anal beads."
We sat around and chatted for a little while. Then, Alice went to the pool to work out and I went to the library to read. It wasn't something that would improve my desirability, but it did take me away from this place for hours at a time.
#
I was curled on my bed in my room with my book from the library when the intercom beeped. I slipped my book under my pillow before the microphone activated.
"Hello, Maddie."
I knew that voice. "Andrew. You're back."
"I couldn't stay away."
I didn't get many repeat customers. "What can I do for you tonight?"
"Let me fuck you."
"You know I don't do that."
"You don't do a lot of things: sex, blow jobs, anal--"
"Look, Andrew--"
"--let yourself get eaten out. Why would you forbid someone from eating you out?"
"Too personal," I told him. "Also, it involves touching."
"I'd like you to reconsider."
I drew a long, calming breath. "Did you ask about Alice?"
"I did. She's here right now with me. She'd say hello, but she's sucking my cock."
"Wise choice."
"Not my first choice. Take off your dress and lay on the bed."
I did as he told me to, naked and laying on my unmade bed. I watched the camera. I had this strange sensation that it was like looking into his eyes. That he was so close to the monitor watching me, his eyes would be all I saw.
"Open your legs and stroke the insides of your thighs." His voice was husky.
I obeyed, feeling a thrill at his very specific instructions. It was a thrill I didn't want to feel. I caressed my own skin and waited for him to say something else.
"When was the last time you took a cock?"
It was crude but crude was usual around here. "Four years, give or take."
"For credits?"
"No."
"Don't close your legs, Maddie. I'm imagining myself there."
The thought of being a character in his imaginings made my heart speed. I couldn't control it. "Fucking me?" I asked before I considered the words.
"Oh, yes."
I looked up at the camera. "Like this? With me on my back?"
"All sorts of ways."
"Tell me how."
His voice was velvet, even through the translation of the speaker. "Kneeling, knees spread." I mimicked what he said. "Bend over at the waist." I was vulnerably displayed.
"Like this?" I asked after a few seconds.
"Yes." There was strain in his voice.
"With my arms tied back like this?" I crossed my wrists at the small of my back.
"Over your head," he growled, his breath audible.
I stretched and spread myself. "Fuck yes," he said. Then, with his voice a little further from the microphone. "Take it, all." Then a long moan and a growling order to "Swallow."
When his breathing slowed, I rolled onto my back and looked up at the camera. "Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?"
"I could make a list."
"Good night, Andrew." I pressed the green button and got my dress off of the floor. I crawled under my covers and fell asleep naked.
#
"He's fucking gorgeous," Alice told me. "Fifty-something. Blonde. Big guy. Well dressed."
The mental image was interesting. I couldn't imagine what a well-dressed, handsome man would be doing in the voyeur block when he clearly wanted more and could pay for it. Knowing that he had been around for the last two days made me jumpy to go back my room.
"Maybe he'll be into you, now," I said to Alice. I had coffee and a bagel for breakfast. Never mind that I had fifty credits waiting in my account. The well of money could dry up at any moment. Indulging in two meager meals would be luxury enough.
"I doubt it," Rachel said. "After he was done, he spent the next twenty minutes questioning me about you."
I gave her a sharp look. "What about me?"
"Oh, had you been here long? Did you ever fuck for money? Your favorite color. Your favorite meal."
"My favorite color?"
"What can I say? He's a weirdo."
"What did you tell him?"
"That if he really wanted to fuck you, he should stop tipping you so well."
"You're such a bitch."
"I'm kidding. I told him that you had always been strictly for looking at, even back at the home. That you were stubborn as hell and that he should give up on the idea of sex. That there were lots of girls like me that he wouldn't have to ask twice for what he wanted."
"I hope he heard that."
"He didn't. I didn't know your favorite color but I told him you liked apples."
I gave her a horrified look. She might as well have told him that I liked diamonds. Apples were about as rare these days.
"What?" she asked, innocently.
I just shook my head. "Off to work out?" I asked her. I was tired. I hadn't been aware of how much hunger was keeping me awake.
"Yeah. Then I have a three o'clock."
"I'm going to have a nap."
"Have a shower, too," she told me.
"Thanks"
#
I woke up because I heard the intercom beep. I was still bleary when I heard the familiar voice. "Hello, Maddie."
"Hello, Andrew." I looked at the clock. Four in the afternoon. I thought he was a night visitor. I rolled onto my back and looked up at the camera. "What can I do for you today?"
"I want to meet you."
"I told you--"
"You don't fuck. I know. I'm not asking to fuck. I'm asking to meet."
"Meet for what?" I asked.
"I don't want to be a voyeur through a camera. I want to watch you in person."
In person meant within touching distance. There wasn't anything but an agreement to keep him from laying hands on me. I looked warily at the camera. "I don't think so."
"I can make this happen, Maddie. I'm only asking out of politeness."
I snorted. "I'm flattered at the invitation, but I'm afraid I must decline." I used my haughtiest tone.
"We'll see about that."
The microphone turned off. I didn't even have to hit the green button. I rolled over on my bed and tried to go back to sleep. Even if I could have, the knock at the door would have woken me up five minutes later.
I opened my door. "He turned off the mic. I didn't cut him off," I told the official.
"I know. He wants to see you," she said.
"And I already said no."
"If he doesn't touch you, he's still within your menu options. I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist."
Mother fucker.
"Where?"
"His room." He had a room? He was richer than rich.
"Who's going to make sure that he doesn't touch me while I'm in his room?"
"I will be observing."
"And intervening?"
She lifted an eyebrow at me. "Maddie, he's gold donor and a friend to management. You can come with me now or someone is going to bring you to him later."
"So, no intervening."
I didn't bother to straighten my hair. I didn't have a dress to change into. I slipped on my one pair of shoes and crossed my arms. "Fine."
She led me out of my block to the lodgings for the visiting dignitaries and management. I hadn't ever been here before; this was a place for whores that were good at their jobs.
I was led to an elevator. It shot straight up to the floor third from the penthouse. Even among very important people, Andrew was pretty important. Carpets in the hallways were lush. The smell of evergreen came through the heating vents. The official knocked on a door and Andrew answered it himself. He wore a crisp white shirt and slacks.
"Come in," he told me. "Thank you," he said to the official. He was exactly as Alice had described him: blonde and fifty-ish. He was large without being fat. His eyes were a cold blue. His shirt could have probably paid for my food for two months.
I stepped inside. It was lush and beautiful. I glared at him. "I'm here. What do you want?"
"First, that you take a shower."
"If you don't like the smell, you should have stuck to a camera view."
He pointed to a door. "Shower. Shave. Dry your hair. Come out naked. Understand?"
I glared at him again. "Yes."
I did as he said. Hot water was a luxury and using as much as I liked was my fuck you to the big man. I washed my hair, shaved my legs and underarms, and my face. Being dirty is a good way to get people to leave you alone. I resented that I wouldn't have that for a while. When I was done, I dried my hair. It was thick and dark and halfway down my back so it took a while. I left my dress on the floor and stepped back into the room. He sat in a chair, sipping some sort of amber liquid out of a heavy glass.
"Come here," he said.
I walked over to him and stood in front of him. "They told me who you are," I said. "A donor."
"I am," he said, sitting back. "So, if I stick to my word, and only watch you, you'll know it's because I chose to." He looked my naked body up and down. "Turn around."
I did so slowly until I faced him again. He was tense and intense all at once. "Face away from me and bend over."
I did what he said. I'd done it for the camera dozens of times but never with someone close enough to touch me. I held the position and felt a cool breeze on my sex. That, in combination with my position, made me start to throb a little. It was disconcerting. "What are you doing?" I asked.
"Blowing on you. Not touching you." He did it again. It was like the softest touch without any touch at all. "I could touch you. You'd like it."
"I'd like it better if you didn't," I told him.
"Stand up. Go into my bedroom," he said, gesturing to a door. "Lay on the bed."
I obeyed and he followed a few moments later with his shirt removed. He climbed onto the bed with me and knelt next to me. He was wearing sensory gloves and mobile implant activator. "Have you ever seen what your implants do for the user?"
"No."
He activated the mobile device and the sensation drained from my hands and arms. Simultaneously, an outline of my body appeared in front of Andrew. It didn't have features--only shape. He moved his gloved hands to the hologram. My hands followed the same path, resting on my stomach.
"What do you feel?" he asked me.
"Nothing. It's like being touched by someone else and having no arms."
"For me, it's like having my hands directly on you." He spread my fingers and ran them over my torso and up to my breasts. He squeezed the weight gently and pinched the nipple. Obediently, they stiffened and I started to throb in time with my heartbeat.
I looked over at Andrew; he wasn't paying any attention to the hologram that he caressed. He watched my hands. He watched my face. He ran my hands down my body, between my legs, over my calves, to my ankles, and back up again.
"Open your legs," he instructed. "Wider, Maddie. You know how I like it." I tensed them wide. Both hands went between my legs. I gasped at the sensation; it was immediately pleasing. His eyes blazed as he watched me.
"I asked about you, too," he said, caressing me too softly. "You have an abysmal record. Infrequently orgasmic. Antisocial. Unenthusiastic. Barely making enough money to feed yourself."
I met his eyes. "Yeah? So what?"
"You hate it here." He stimulated me with more friction.
"Here is all I've got."
"That's not true." He didn't have to ask me twice where my sweet spot was; my fingers played over it again and again. "You also have me." I snorted a laugh. My fingers penetrated me a little roughly. "Don't laugh at me, Maddie. You have no idea who I am."
"Any guy with a few credits extra could help me out," I said, my voice starting to sound aroused from his work. "It doesn't mean he will."
"I will."
"Yeah, right."
"You don't believe me?"
"You're trying to make me come. I don't believe anything a man says when he's trying to make me come."
His jaw clenched and he worked with more effort. I had to admit he was pretty good with the implants. He stoked me higher and higher; I remembered to make small sounds of encouragement.
"I want to fuck you. Do you believe that?" he growled at me.
"That I believe," I managed.
"I want to watch you come while I'm fucking you."
My fingers raced over me and my body responded against my will. My back bowed. I made a throaty sound.
"Look at me."
I met his eyes. They were heated and eager. Sweat stood out on his face. He got a little rougher and it was all I needed. I tried to keep my eyes open; he certainly didn't close his. I rode out the orgasm to its conclusion while he watched me.
In a moment, the feeling flooded back into my arms. Andrew stood and crossed the room, pouring me a glass of water and handing it to me. "Stay there," he told me. He hit a button on the wall. "Room 895. Female. Someone available now for a blow job."
In less than a minute, there was a knock at the door. Andrew answered, curtly thanking the official. I didn't recognize the girl. A dyed blond girl in a red dress. Andrew sat in a chair across the room. "Get on your knees and crawl over here," he told her.
She obeyed and while she crawled, he opened his slacks. He was fully erect and glistening. When she reached him, he looked over at me. "Suck me," he told her without looking at her.
Her head shielded my view, except to see her bobbing up and down. Andrew's eyes never left me. "This should be you," he said to me, his voice practically a growl.
"You're better off with her," I told him.
"No," he said, putting his hand in her hair and adjusting her motion. "I don't care about your skill. I envision a long, private clinic with you about how to suck my cock. Just your lips wrapped around me would probably be enough to make me come at first."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I just don't get you."
He started thrusting down the girl's throat. "I want you," he grunted. "You're a whore for hire. It's maddening that I can't have you."
I heard the girl gag and thanked the powers that be that it wasn't me on my knees in front of him. He had both hands in her hair. It seemed almost violent, the way he used the girl's mouth.
Finally, he pulled her head to him and held it there. "Yes," he groaned, pumping shallowly. "Swallow it." In a few seconds, he was done. He released the girl. I watched her wipe her eyes and nose. Both had started running.
"Give me your hand," he told her, holding it under a scanner. It chimed. "Thank you. Now go." She was gone as quickly as she had come. I stayed on the bed naked. I felt a little safer knowing that his edge was taken care of.
He glanced at me and then opened a drawer in the dresser. "Here," he said, throwing a soft garment at me. "Put this on. I'm keeping your other dress." The new one was blue and lovely, but I resented it nonetheless.
"I don't want a new dress."
"If you don't take this one, you'll leave here naked." I glared at him and pulled the new dress over my head roughly. "Now, turn around," he instructed. I obeyed. When I faced him again, his expression was unreadable. "Sit," he ordered, gesturing to a chair nearby.
When I was seated, he looked me up and down again. "I own a company," he said. "A large and very lucrative company."
"Congratulations."
"I could give you a job if I wanted to."
I gave him a look. "Jobs are assigned through the government."
"Yes, except those reserved for the friends and families of the company owners and management." He gave me a long, calculating look. "Would you like to be my friend, Maddie?"
Hope sparked, like a tiny flame. I doused it immediately with realism. "You're not going to give me a job," I told him. "You're going to use the promise of one to fuck me. Then you're going to send me back here, maybe with a hefty tip to calm your conscience, if you have one."
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Not a very trusting creature, are you?" I shrugged. "I would be willing to put this arrangement in writing."
"Yes, and I'll use all of my lawyers to fight you when you renege." I stood. "Are we done here?"
"Sit," he ordered me again. I sighed and obeyed. "This is a real offer. I need an assistant and I need to fuck you. I will put you through the six week training course and then I will hire you. I can imagine how this could be an agreeable arrangement for both of us."
"I don't even know how to type."
"Hence the training course."
"Look, Andrew--"
"After which you will be marketable as an assistant to any upper lever businessman."
"After you're tired of fucking me and are willing to let me go."
"Obviously."
"This arrangement would hardly be an improvement for me."
"You'd eat every day. Sleep in a clean, private bed. Train for a career that would make me the last man you would ever have to sell yourself to."
"If you keep your word. And while I wait for that to happen, I fuck you whenever you want. Blow you whenever you want. Take it up the ass, too, I sup--"
"Yes," he said curtly, cutting me off. The sweat misted his face again. His slacks had a bulge.
"So I'm still a whore with no end in sight. Except with this offer, I don’t even get a say over my own body."
"This is your escape hatch. Satisfy me and I'll see to your future." He looked me over once. "Oh, and the implants stay. I like them."
"Are we done here?" I asked again.
"Think about this offer."
I would. Probably more than I should. I stood and turned for the door. "Maddie," he said, stopping me.
I turned. He was holding an apple. My eyes must have gotten bigger. I hadn't had one of these since I was a kid. Someone sent a bushel to the home for Christmas one year and I got two. It was before the blight that took out most of the apple trees. Cherry trees, too.
I went back for the apple. He snatched it away from me at the last moment. "Promise you'll think about this."
I looked at the apple. "I promise to think about it. I don't promise to agree to it."
He held out the apple and I took it from him in a quick grab before he could pull it away again. He laughed at me openly, which just pissed me off. I put the apple in the pocket of my new dress and left as quickly as I could.
Nonetheless, the clients found me. I had just finished dinner when the intercom beeped, letting me know that someone was watching. It was a courtesy. It gave a worker about ten seconds before the client's camera came on to hide methers, if you were into drugs, or to get into a provocative position, if you were into tips. I didn't worry about either, though tips would have been nice. It's just that I'm no actress. Me in a provocative position was about as natural as an elephant in high heels.
The intercom opened; I heard the air on the microphone. Somewhere--in a comfortable viewing room, no doubt--some man was strangling his cock while he looked at me.
"Hi. I'm Andrew."
"Maddie," I answered, looking at the closest camera. "What can I do for you, Andrew?" It wasn't politeness. That was the script we had to follow.
"I want to watch you come."
I nearly groaned. If I managed it, Andrew would be paying for my food for the next week. Chances were, though, that he would get bored waiting for me to get there because it took me a million years. "OK," I said. I didn't sound very enthusiastic and I knew it.
I crossed the room from the tiny table for one to the tiny twin bed for one. I hadn't made it when I woke up that morning and didn't bother to straighten the sheets now. I laid down and lifted my gray shift to my waist. No underwear. What was the point when it just came off and on all day?
The intercom came on again. "I paid to use your hands."
I sighed. Of course he did. "There's a red button next to your screen," I told him. "Push it."
I knew the instant that he had. I lost all sensation in my arms from the shoulder down. Four years with the implants made the sensation less foreign but no less troubling. Andrew flexed my hand and made a fist. He ran his hands down the inside of my thighs. I was told that he could feel everything like they were his hands. And I was like some arm-less vessel waiting for the guy to get over the novelty.
He used my hands to lift my shift over my chest, exposing my breasts. He pulled on my nipples, chafing them a little. He was gentle enough that they hardened. "Very nice," he said. It was a disembodied voice over my head. I wondered if his hands felt disembodied, too.
My hands skimmed my torso, taking their time getting to the goal. I opened my legs, looking up at the camera, hoping that this would go better than it usually did. Fingers parted me.
"You're dry," Andrew said.
"There's lube on the table," I said, glancing to my left.
"I want you wet, naturally," he said. His voice had a strange command to it. Most guys who came to me were shy. I imagined pimple-faced twenty-somethings with some irregular feature: a big nose or crossed eyes. Something that made them want to watch me and not want to be seen. None of them spoke with authority.
"Open your legs wider," he ordered. I obeyed and got a strange thrill out of it. Fingers played around my vagina, penetrating me shallowly, teasing the opening. My other hand caressed me from my ass to my front and back again. When he parted me a second time, his finger was slick. At least he didn't insist on rubbing me raw.
He started a rhythmic stroke and it wasn't half bad for aim. I felt bad for the guy. If he had picked another girl, she would be calling his name already.
"How does this feel?" he asked.
"OK," I responded. There wasn't any tension in my voice. He would know I was lying if I said it was mind-blowing. The only thing worse than lying was being caught in a lie.
He teased over me for a few more minutes until he hit a thrilling spot. I made a low sound. He concentrated on that square inch of flesh and my legs opened wider.
"How about now?" he teased.
"Much better," I said breathlessly. I thought I heard his chuckle on the other end of the intercom.
While he worked the spot, he penetrated me with two fingers. This went on for a while, stoking me slowly higher and higher.
"You're flushed," his voice observed, the stroke not slowing, "but, you're quiet. Are you getting closer?"
"Yes," I gasped. My fingers moved with more purpose; I pushed sensitive flesh into them. He gave me more friction and a promising tickle started.
Suddenly, he stopped touching me and my body lost its tension. It was a damn shame though not an uncommon occurrence with me. The sad thing was that I probably could have come with this one. I looked up at the camera. "I'm sorry, Andrew. This is my fault; I'll make sure you're refunded. Or, Sarah is two rooms over and she comes if you look at her funny."
"Were you close?"
"Yes. I'm just--"
He found that perfect patch of real estate and slipped my fingers over it again, cutting me off. My body obligingly opened to the sensation: my legs straining wide, my knees trembling. The pleasure was doubled after being taken away. My back arched and I heard his chuckle again.
Then he stopped. This was an interesting development. I was frustrated and let him see it, since I sensed it was what he wanted. It was rare that a client's desire and my feelings ever lined up.
He started again and I immediately felt the promise of fruition. "Do you want to come?" he asked me, his voice uncharacteristically calm.
"Yes."
"Beg me."
It was a game I heard other girls describe. Voyeurs don't usually make such requests. But, clearly, this wasn't a typical voyeur.
"Please," I breathed. "Andrew, please."
"Please, what?"
"Please, make me come. Don't stop."
I sucked at dirty talk, too. But, I was actually aroused. The words came out of my mouth unpremeditated.
His fingers went harder and rougher. "I want to fuck you," he said.
"No," was all I could manage. I was about as turned on as a person could be but that didn't mean that I was going to go from a watch-and-touch prostitute to a full blown anything-goes prostitute.
"No?" Andrew asked. He kept working me.
"I don't...."
"I'll pay."
"That isn't something I do," I whimpered. I was so close and there was something about his desire for more that kept me aroused.
"You should. You're fucking delicious."
The complement pushed me over the edge. His touch didn't slow and I undulated against it, unable to stop my moaning. Hey, I was like anyone else: I liked to come. I just didn't get there that much. "Yes," I groaned. "Oh, God, yes."
The fingers worked me until I twitched with overstimulation. Then, sensation returned to my arms and hands with an electrical tingle. My fingers were pruney from working me. My arms were weak.
"Was that a real orgasm?" he asked me while I caught my breath.
I looked up at the camera. "Yes."
"You could fool me if you faked it, you know," Andrew said.
"I never fake it. That's why I'm so fucking poor." He laughed openly at that. I decided that I should just stick to the script. "Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, Andrew?"
"I was serious when I said that I wanted to fuck you. Can we meet?"
"I'm sorry. I don't do that."
"Not even for a hefty overpayment?"
That was an interesting development. Most voyeurs aren't well-funded. "Ask for Alice," I told him. "She'll treat you right. Block five."
"I don't want Alice."
"I'm sorry Andrew. I can't help you." I got up and hit the green button on my wall that cut him off. He now had two choices: leave me alone or pay again. It was enough to turn off the few other offers I'd had. At least I knew that I would have enough money for a meager breakfast tomorrow. I turned off my availability and rubbed my arms. If there was any other way to make a living, I would have already done it.
#
"You're distracted," Alice told me in the cafeteria.
"I'm just thinking about a creep from last night."
"A creep? You mean a client?"
"Same difference."
She rolled her eyes. "You're going to starve with that attitude."
We got up to the cash line and she put the back of her hand under the scanner. It chimed. "Anything else...Alice? You have one hundred forty-three credits remaining." She had plenty of money for eggs and pancakes.
"That's all," she said, waiting for me.
I looked down at my banana and toast; and held out my hand, hoping I had enough to pay for it. The scanner chimed and I breathed in relief. It was a lucky morning for me. Sometimes I could only afford the free coffee.
"Anything else...Maddison?" the food service computer asked me. "You have twenty-one credits remaining."
"Twenty-one?" I asked.
"Three credits deposited in your account November 21 by client Brian Downing. Twenty credits deposited in your account November 23 by client Andrew Mueller," the computer recited. I stared at it until I got pushed from behind.
"Andrew Mueller? The creep from last night?" Alice asked.
"Yeah. You're welcome, by the way. I told him to ask for you if he wants sex."
Her eyes lit up. "Thanks!"
We sat down at a steel table. Alice and I had been at the orphanage together. When she turned eighteen and got turned out of the group house, she came straight here. Legal prostitution with a promise of shelter and security. I, on the other hand, tried to go into the military. I missed the height cut-off by two inches. Jobs were only gotten through the government and they had no interest in a no-skill little nobody like me. Six months after Alice, I entered the same brothel. That had been four years ago.
You could be any kind of whore you liked here and you lived according to your popularity. I only let clients watch and I got paid accordingly: a single room with one meal a day, usually. The implants in my arms were because I couldn't make enough money to eat without them. It was pennies for a peep show but the arms gave it a bit of kink that earned me more. Alice worked on her back; she had a small apartment and a new dress every time I saw her. More than once, she had given me food.
Alice kicked me under the table. "Stop daydreaming. If they think you're done, they'll take your food."
She was right. I munched on a piece of toast.
"Still thinking about client Andrew?" Alice teased. "Try a little make-up and a dress that isn't gray."
I gave her a look. "I'm not trying to get him to come back. It was a one-time thing. He really wanted sex."
"Hopefully he'll come back for me, then." Everything was very simple for Alice.
I decided to just change the subject; it was easier. "How was your night?"
"Lovely. It was just me and Vince. He brought me platinum anal beads."
We sat around and chatted for a little while. Then, Alice went to the pool to work out and I went to the library to read. It wasn't something that would improve my desirability, but it did take me away from this place for hours at a time.
#
I was curled on my bed in my room with my book from the library when the intercom beeped. I slipped my book under my pillow before the microphone activated.
"Hello, Maddie."
I knew that voice. "Andrew. You're back."
"I couldn't stay away."
I didn't get many repeat customers. "What can I do for you tonight?"
"Let me fuck you."
"You know I don't do that."
"You don't do a lot of things: sex, blow jobs, anal--"
"Look, Andrew--"
"--let yourself get eaten out. Why would you forbid someone from eating you out?"
"Too personal," I told him. "Also, it involves touching."
"I'd like you to reconsider."
I drew a long, calming breath. "Did you ask about Alice?"
"I did. She's here right now with me. She'd say hello, but she's sucking my cock."
"Wise choice."
"Not my first choice. Take off your dress and lay on the bed."
I did as he told me to, naked and laying on my unmade bed. I watched the camera. I had this strange sensation that it was like looking into his eyes. That he was so close to the monitor watching me, his eyes would be all I saw.
"Open your legs and stroke the insides of your thighs." His voice was husky.
I obeyed, feeling a thrill at his very specific instructions. It was a thrill I didn't want to feel. I caressed my own skin and waited for him to say something else.
"When was the last time you took a cock?"
It was crude but crude was usual around here. "Four years, give or take."
"For credits?"
"No."
"Don't close your legs, Maddie. I'm imagining myself there."
The thought of being a character in his imaginings made my heart speed. I couldn't control it. "Fucking me?" I asked before I considered the words.
"Oh, yes."
I looked up at the camera. "Like this? With me on my back?"
"All sorts of ways."
"Tell me how."
His voice was velvet, even through the translation of the speaker. "Kneeling, knees spread." I mimicked what he said. "Bend over at the waist." I was vulnerably displayed.
"Like this?" I asked after a few seconds.
"Yes." There was strain in his voice.
"With my arms tied back like this?" I crossed my wrists at the small of my back.
"Over your head," he growled, his breath audible.
I stretched and spread myself. "Fuck yes," he said. Then, with his voice a little further from the microphone. "Take it, all." Then a long moan and a growling order to "Swallow."
When his breathing slowed, I rolled onto my back and looked up at the camera. "Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?"
"I could make a list."
"Good night, Andrew." I pressed the green button and got my dress off of the floor. I crawled under my covers and fell asleep naked.
#
"He's fucking gorgeous," Alice told me. "Fifty-something. Blonde. Big guy. Well dressed."
The mental image was interesting. I couldn't imagine what a well-dressed, handsome man would be doing in the voyeur block when he clearly wanted more and could pay for it. Knowing that he had been around for the last two days made me jumpy to go back my room.
"Maybe he'll be into you, now," I said to Alice. I had coffee and a bagel for breakfast. Never mind that I had fifty credits waiting in my account. The well of money could dry up at any moment. Indulging in two meager meals would be luxury enough.
"I doubt it," Rachel said. "After he was done, he spent the next twenty minutes questioning me about you."
I gave her a sharp look. "What about me?"
"Oh, had you been here long? Did you ever fuck for money? Your favorite color. Your favorite meal."
"My favorite color?"
"What can I say? He's a weirdo."
"What did you tell him?"
"That if he really wanted to fuck you, he should stop tipping you so well."
"You're such a bitch."
"I'm kidding. I told him that you had always been strictly for looking at, even back at the home. That you were stubborn as hell and that he should give up on the idea of sex. That there were lots of girls like me that he wouldn't have to ask twice for what he wanted."
"I hope he heard that."
"He didn't. I didn't know your favorite color but I told him you liked apples."
I gave her a horrified look. She might as well have told him that I liked diamonds. Apples were about as rare these days.
"What?" she asked, innocently.
I just shook my head. "Off to work out?" I asked her. I was tired. I hadn't been aware of how much hunger was keeping me awake.
"Yeah. Then I have a three o'clock."
"I'm going to have a nap."
"Have a shower, too," she told me.
"Thanks"
#
I woke up because I heard the intercom beep. I was still bleary when I heard the familiar voice. "Hello, Maddie."
"Hello, Andrew." I looked at the clock. Four in the afternoon. I thought he was a night visitor. I rolled onto my back and looked up at the camera. "What can I do for you today?"
"I want to meet you."
"I told you--"
"You don't fuck. I know. I'm not asking to fuck. I'm asking to meet."
"Meet for what?" I asked.
"I don't want to be a voyeur through a camera. I want to watch you in person."
In person meant within touching distance. There wasn't anything but an agreement to keep him from laying hands on me. I looked warily at the camera. "I don't think so."
"I can make this happen, Maddie. I'm only asking out of politeness."
I snorted. "I'm flattered at the invitation, but I'm afraid I must decline." I used my haughtiest tone.
"We'll see about that."
The microphone turned off. I didn't even have to hit the green button. I rolled over on my bed and tried to go back to sleep. Even if I could have, the knock at the door would have woken me up five minutes later.
I opened my door. "He turned off the mic. I didn't cut him off," I told the official.
"I know. He wants to see you," she said.
"And I already said no."
"If he doesn't touch you, he's still within your menu options. I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist."
Mother fucker.
"Where?"
"His room." He had a room? He was richer than rich.
"Who's going to make sure that he doesn't touch me while I'm in his room?"
"I will be observing."
"And intervening?"
She lifted an eyebrow at me. "Maddie, he's gold donor and a friend to management. You can come with me now or someone is going to bring you to him later."
"So, no intervening."
I didn't bother to straighten my hair. I didn't have a dress to change into. I slipped on my one pair of shoes and crossed my arms. "Fine."
She led me out of my block to the lodgings for the visiting dignitaries and management. I hadn't ever been here before; this was a place for whores that were good at their jobs.
I was led to an elevator. It shot straight up to the floor third from the penthouse. Even among very important people, Andrew was pretty important. Carpets in the hallways were lush. The smell of evergreen came through the heating vents. The official knocked on a door and Andrew answered it himself. He wore a crisp white shirt and slacks.
"Come in," he told me. "Thank you," he said to the official. He was exactly as Alice had described him: blonde and fifty-ish. He was large without being fat. His eyes were a cold blue. His shirt could have probably paid for my food for two months.
I stepped inside. It was lush and beautiful. I glared at him. "I'm here. What do you want?"
"First, that you take a shower."
"If you don't like the smell, you should have stuck to a camera view."
He pointed to a door. "Shower. Shave. Dry your hair. Come out naked. Understand?"
I glared at him again. "Yes."
I did as he said. Hot water was a luxury and using as much as I liked was my fuck you to the big man. I washed my hair, shaved my legs and underarms, and my face. Being dirty is a good way to get people to leave you alone. I resented that I wouldn't have that for a while. When I was done, I dried my hair. It was thick and dark and halfway down my back so it took a while. I left my dress on the floor and stepped back into the room. He sat in a chair, sipping some sort of amber liquid out of a heavy glass.
"Come here," he said.
I walked over to him and stood in front of him. "They told me who you are," I said. "A donor."
"I am," he said, sitting back. "So, if I stick to my word, and only watch you, you'll know it's because I chose to." He looked my naked body up and down. "Turn around."
I did so slowly until I faced him again. He was tense and intense all at once. "Face away from me and bend over."
I did what he said. I'd done it for the camera dozens of times but never with someone close enough to touch me. I held the position and felt a cool breeze on my sex. That, in combination with my position, made me start to throb a little. It was disconcerting. "What are you doing?" I asked.
"Blowing on you. Not touching you." He did it again. It was like the softest touch without any touch at all. "I could touch you. You'd like it."
"I'd like it better if you didn't," I told him.
"Stand up. Go into my bedroom," he said, gesturing to a door. "Lay on the bed."
I obeyed and he followed a few moments later with his shirt removed. He climbed onto the bed with me and knelt next to me. He was wearing sensory gloves and mobile implant activator. "Have you ever seen what your implants do for the user?"
"No."
He activated the mobile device and the sensation drained from my hands and arms. Simultaneously, an outline of my body appeared in front of Andrew. It didn't have features--only shape. He moved his gloved hands to the hologram. My hands followed the same path, resting on my stomach.
"What do you feel?" he asked me.
"Nothing. It's like being touched by someone else and having no arms."
"For me, it's like having my hands directly on you." He spread my fingers and ran them over my torso and up to my breasts. He squeezed the weight gently and pinched the nipple. Obediently, they stiffened and I started to throb in time with my heartbeat.
I looked over at Andrew; he wasn't paying any attention to the hologram that he caressed. He watched my hands. He watched my face. He ran my hands down my body, between my legs, over my calves, to my ankles, and back up again.
"Open your legs," he instructed. "Wider, Maddie. You know how I like it." I tensed them wide. Both hands went between my legs. I gasped at the sensation; it was immediately pleasing. His eyes blazed as he watched me.
"I asked about you, too," he said, caressing me too softly. "You have an abysmal record. Infrequently orgasmic. Antisocial. Unenthusiastic. Barely making enough money to feed yourself."
I met his eyes. "Yeah? So what?"
"You hate it here." He stimulated me with more friction.
"Here is all I've got."
"That's not true." He didn't have to ask me twice where my sweet spot was; my fingers played over it again and again. "You also have me." I snorted a laugh. My fingers penetrated me a little roughly. "Don't laugh at me, Maddie. You have no idea who I am."
"Any guy with a few credits extra could help me out," I said, my voice starting to sound aroused from his work. "It doesn't mean he will."
"I will."
"Yeah, right."
"You don't believe me?"
"You're trying to make me come. I don't believe anything a man says when he's trying to make me come."
His jaw clenched and he worked with more effort. I had to admit he was pretty good with the implants. He stoked me higher and higher; I remembered to make small sounds of encouragement.
"I want to fuck you. Do you believe that?" he growled at me.
"That I believe," I managed.
"I want to watch you come while I'm fucking you."
My fingers raced over me and my body responded against my will. My back bowed. I made a throaty sound.
"Look at me."
I met his eyes. They were heated and eager. Sweat stood out on his face. He got a little rougher and it was all I needed. I tried to keep my eyes open; he certainly didn't close his. I rode out the orgasm to its conclusion while he watched me.
In a moment, the feeling flooded back into my arms. Andrew stood and crossed the room, pouring me a glass of water and handing it to me. "Stay there," he told me. He hit a button on the wall. "Room 895. Female. Someone available now for a blow job."
In less than a minute, there was a knock at the door. Andrew answered, curtly thanking the official. I didn't recognize the girl. A dyed blond girl in a red dress. Andrew sat in a chair across the room. "Get on your knees and crawl over here," he told her.
She obeyed and while she crawled, he opened his slacks. He was fully erect and glistening. When she reached him, he looked over at me. "Suck me," he told her without looking at her.
Her head shielded my view, except to see her bobbing up and down. Andrew's eyes never left me. "This should be you," he said to me, his voice practically a growl.
"You're better off with her," I told him.
"No," he said, putting his hand in her hair and adjusting her motion. "I don't care about your skill. I envision a long, private clinic with you about how to suck my cock. Just your lips wrapped around me would probably be enough to make me come at first."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I just don't get you."
He started thrusting down the girl's throat. "I want you," he grunted. "You're a whore for hire. It's maddening that I can't have you."
I heard the girl gag and thanked the powers that be that it wasn't me on my knees in front of him. He had both hands in her hair. It seemed almost violent, the way he used the girl's mouth.
Finally, he pulled her head to him and held it there. "Yes," he groaned, pumping shallowly. "Swallow it." In a few seconds, he was done. He released the girl. I watched her wipe her eyes and nose. Both had started running.
"Give me your hand," he told her, holding it under a scanner. It chimed. "Thank you. Now go." She was gone as quickly as she had come. I stayed on the bed naked. I felt a little safer knowing that his edge was taken care of.
He glanced at me and then opened a drawer in the dresser. "Here," he said, throwing a soft garment at me. "Put this on. I'm keeping your other dress." The new one was blue and lovely, but I resented it nonetheless.
"I don't want a new dress."
"If you don't take this one, you'll leave here naked." I glared at him and pulled the new dress over my head roughly. "Now, turn around," he instructed. I obeyed. When I faced him again, his expression was unreadable. "Sit," he ordered, gesturing to a chair nearby.
When I was seated, he looked me up and down again. "I own a company," he said. "A large and very lucrative company."
"Congratulations."
"I could give you a job if I wanted to."
I gave him a look. "Jobs are assigned through the government."
"Yes, except those reserved for the friends and families of the company owners and management." He gave me a long, calculating look. "Would you like to be my friend, Maddie?"
Hope sparked, like a tiny flame. I doused it immediately with realism. "You're not going to give me a job," I told him. "You're going to use the promise of one to fuck me. Then you're going to send me back here, maybe with a hefty tip to calm your conscience, if you have one."
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Not a very trusting creature, are you?" I shrugged. "I would be willing to put this arrangement in writing."
"Yes, and I'll use all of my lawyers to fight you when you renege." I stood. "Are we done here?"
"Sit," he ordered me again. I sighed and obeyed. "This is a real offer. I need an assistant and I need to fuck you. I will put you through the six week training course and then I will hire you. I can imagine how this could be an agreeable arrangement for both of us."
"I don't even know how to type."
"Hence the training course."
"Look, Andrew--"
"After which you will be marketable as an assistant to any upper lever businessman."
"After you're tired of fucking me and are willing to let me go."
"Obviously."
"This arrangement would hardly be an improvement for me."
"You'd eat every day. Sleep in a clean, private bed. Train for a career that would make me the last man you would ever have to sell yourself to."
"If you keep your word. And while I wait for that to happen, I fuck you whenever you want. Blow you whenever you want. Take it up the ass, too, I sup--"
"Yes," he said curtly, cutting me off. The sweat misted his face again. His slacks had a bulge.
"So I'm still a whore with no end in sight. Except with this offer, I don’t even get a say over my own body."
"This is your escape hatch. Satisfy me and I'll see to your future." He looked me over once. "Oh, and the implants stay. I like them."
"Are we done here?" I asked again.
"Think about this offer."
I would. Probably more than I should. I stood and turned for the door. "Maddie," he said, stopping me.
I turned. He was holding an apple. My eyes must have gotten bigger. I hadn't had one of these since I was a kid. Someone sent a bushel to the home for Christmas one year and I got two. It was before the blight that took out most of the apple trees. Cherry trees, too.
I went back for the apple. He snatched it away from me at the last moment. "Promise you'll think about this."
I looked at the apple. "I promise to think about it. I don't promise to agree to it."
He held out the apple and I took it from him in a quick grab before he could pull it away again. He laughed at me openly, which just pissed me off. I put the apple in the pocket of my new dress and left as quickly as I could.
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