New Spinner KAYLEIGH

Available 7/17 - 8/5

Height: 5'3”

Weight: 98 pounds

Blonde Hair

Blue Eyes

Measurements: 32b-22-32

Age: 18 (birthdate: Dec. 4, 1999)

Hi everyone!

My name is Kayleigh and I'm a newcummer to the LPIN scene. I graduated from high school in June 2018 and am working here in Flagstone, Nevada at Happy Ending Ranch! I'm chill and laid-back, so it would be easy for you as a client to feel comfortable with me.

I am and always will be a California Girl at heart. I love off-roading in the desert and all things outdoors such as boating, swimming, hiking, and rock climbing. I enjoy roller skating, too (though I'm terrible at it and usually wind up falling flat on my butt).

I'm also a girl who CRAVES sex. Call me a nympho if you must :), but I'm super passionate when it comes to pleasures of the flesh. I love to role-play in different costumes, so can be anyone you want me to be. Would you like your own personal cheerleader? How about a maid who can't seem to get the job done and needs a little … discipline? I have an open mind and am willing to try unusual positions.

I cater to both men and women, especially couples, and the disabled. One-on-one is my favorite, though. I promise to pamper and spoil you rotten during our date. I want to be that release for you, that escape from reality. Let me soothe away your stress from work or be a getaway from an unfulfilling life at home. My lone objective is to deliver you complete satisfaction and the experience of a lifetime.

Call our office at 775-555-0105 to schedule an appointment with me. I'll be ready and waiting! Or walk in off the street. Either is fine, and up to you.

Can't wait to hug and kiss on you!!!

–Kayleigh :)

*

This is insane.

After returning from Oakfall an hour ago, Lindsay’s eyes skewered her iPad as she sat cross-legged on the bed. The poor girl didn’t know what to think of the website profile Jim created for her last evening. He inquired about her general interests and used the answers to piece together this so-called “biography.” He also made it seem like Lindsay (ahem, Kayleigh) wrote it herself.

It paints me as a slut. While that was Lindsay’s knee-jerk reaction, she reminded herself of something – I am a slut. Did she have any justification to complain about the way the page portrayed her? This isn’t Tuesday night mass at Sacred Heart. I’m a sex worker in a brothel now.

Lindsay explained her lack of sexual experience during the interview with Colt and Pamela yesterday, and thought she'd made the point clear. I’ve been with two guys in my life. That’s it! She spoke about it with Jim during their road trip too. Pamela, by comparison, had been with thousands of men and hundreds of women. With Pamela’s body count, there is no comparison between her and me.

According to the profile, Lindsay loved to dress up as a cheerleader? She was previously on a regional squad in high school, sure, but had never worn her uniform during sex. Such an idea had never crossed her mind … until now.

A maid who needs discipline? The write-up intimated she was begging to be roughed up by total strangers. While Lindsay enjoyed a sound spanking, inviting keyboard commandos from the Internet to give her one wasn't something she thought she'd ever do.

I love being with couples too? While the possibility of taking part in a threesome sent both her imagination and libido soaring, Lindsay hoped her first time with another woman didn't happen during a party. That would be wrong on so many levels. She'd been bi-curious for a long time and wanted her first girl-girl experience to be monumental. OhmiGod, I'd give anything for it to be with Pamela!

Lindsay catered to the disabled too? That's a new one. She wondered if guys showed up here in wheelchairs looking for a sexy romp. Was that a common occurrence? How about war veterans with missing limbs? Burn victims? The mentally handicapped?

Hmm, why wouldn't they? Aren’t they entitled to pleasure too? Would those unfortunate souls with more extreme disabilities have a handler who’d assist them with getting into position for a comfortable lay? I sure wouldn't be able to do that myself. A shiver zipped up her spine. I don't want to hurt anyone.

I gotta learn to be nonjudgmental and have an open mind about everything. This was what she wanted, right? Lindsay wanted this job. She'd chosen it following months of research. To get fucked for a living. There were going to be many unique things she saw and did here, whether it be cosplay dress up and sex with a quadriplegic or getting her ass spanked by Dirty Grandpa from Kentucky.

Pamela promised me one hundred percent safety and security as long as I’m here. Said “unfavorable incidents” with customers are rare and taken care of swiftly by management. Lindsay told herself there was no reason to be apprehensive. The sheriff’s station is right down the street. No client was going to rough her up too hard during one of those spankings, right?

But those pics … ugh. It would be awful if anyone from Citronelle ever stumbled across them. My family, my friends, teachers from school. Half of the photographs were G-rated, but in the rest, Lindsay resembled a struggling, low-rent porn actress spread across the pages of a filthy magazine ready to bang.

What if someone from back home shows up one day and wants a GFE with me? Perhaps her history and math teacher, Mr. Frieto, would offer $500. That would be awkward, though Corn Chip was cute. Zack, Lindsay’s ex-boyfriend? I’d tell him to fuck off. Or how about the pervy neighbor, Rich Foster, who would ogle Lindsay from his window whenever she sunned herself at the backyard pool? Big Dick loved taking pics of me in my bikinis. By now, Lindsay imagined Mr. Foster had an entire portfolio stashed away, hidden from his wife, on a flash drive.

That old man was a total creep. But Lindsay couldn’t deny facts, either: having those pictures taken voyeur-style and offering the senior citizen a wet ‘n wild show every so often gave her an undeniable rush.

Yesterday afternoon, Colt insisted Lindsay venture down to the recreation room with Jim for a photoshoot. “Your bio page is worthless without any pictures.”

The shoot was far from professional as Jim took snaps of Lindsay with his cell phone. She wore a variety of outfits, some steamy and some not, and most on loan from Pamela. Riley let her borrow a trench coat and she modeled in it too. Things transitioned upstairs, outdoors, to Lindsay's bedroom, and Jim kept snapping pictures.

Colt was adamant about nude shots being included too. That's where things got dicey. Lindsay had shaky limbs getting naked as a jaybird for Jim, a man three times her age, and one she'd met earlier in the day. This isn’t like Big Dick taking random pics of me in my bikini from his window. No, these were full-on nudes.

Jim made the modeling session easy, however, similar to when he searched her backpack and uncovered those sex toys. He showed the emotional investment of a bored house cat as Lindsay stripped down to her rawest form and showcased herself for the world to see.

In the end, Lindsay didn't have a problem baring it all for Jim. That was the easy part. Instead, she was concerned about having explicit photographs floating around in cyberspace.

Once it's on the Internet, it's there forever. Even if the pics got taken down later tonight and no one downloaded a single copy, there would still be ways for people to find them twenty, thirty, even fifty years from now.

As well as tomorrow.

What if someone tries to use them against me in the future? Blackmail me? While the thought was paranoid, it was still a legitimate concern, however, Lindsay decided she’d cross that bridge when (or if) she came to it. There’s no need to worry about it now. These pics are a necessary sacrifice.

Wanting her to be comfortable, Jim encouraged Lindsay to take several breaks during the shoot and had her cover up with a robe. He kept her hydrated with bottled water and made certain she had access to a variety of snacks.

Jim takes pics like this of every new girl since he seems to be the one in charge of the website. Lindsay didn’t mind. It’s not like he’s an old horndog who'll go home later and jack off to the images. But she wouldn’t have any objections if he did.

Jim assured Lindsay this was the best route to build her business, or in his words, her brand. It was crucial. The website received thousands of hits every day from people across the globe. Potential clients would view Lindsay’s page and want to book parties with her.

Wow, I look young in this one. Lindsay stared at a photograph of her on the loveseat (naked, of course) holding a massive four-foot-long teddy bear like it was a birthday present. In reality, it was Pamela's most prized, cherished possession – Beary Potter. Lindsay’s youth was exaggerated even further by a pair of bushy pigtails. Jim photoshopped all my pubic hair away too. Damn! No tan lines, either … these pics are fire!

Maybe Big Dick will add these to his collection and come knocking here one day with thousands of dollars in cash for me. Come to think of it, perhaps having these photographs on the Internet wasn't such a bad thing after all. Lindsay’s eyes crinkled with a smile. I have the suspicion this page is gonna make me a lot of money.

Lindsay glanced around her private bedroom. This is my new home now. It had a king-size bed, a fifty-five-inch flat-screen television, a reclining chair, a study area with a desk, a small kitchenette, and a tabletop refrigerator. The room was otherwise bare and had no personality but was Lindsay's to decorate as she desired. She purchased a couple of items in Oakfall to jazz things up but hadn't pulled them from the bags yet.

This bed is huuuuuge. Lindsay had slept in a twin-size for as long as she could remember, so her new bed was a significant upgrade. I wonder how many people have gotten fucked in it. The television was larger than the one her mother and father had in their family room too. In Lindsay's bedroom back in Citronelle, she had a twenty-nine-inch tabletop. That thing is older than I am.

On the far wall, a lone window had thick bars over it. Reminds me of a prison cell. It was an added layer of security, though the window overlooked the backyard. It was enclosed and walled off, so Lindsay believed the bars were overkill. Good luck to any intruder who tries to bust in. Ain’t happening. Random touches like this reinforced Pamela’s promise about how vital employee safety was to management.

In front of the bed, a sealed box had seventy-five cases of condoms in it. Lindsay was stunned when Pamela first explained its contents to her yesterday. A regular person wouldn’t need anywhere close to this many condoms in their lifetime, but they were gone through like popcorn at a movie theater here at Happy Ending Ranch. Cleanliness was important, and Pamela told Lindsay it wasn't uncommon for her to cycle through up to five condoms an hour with a client.

Several cases of personal lubricant and dental dams were nearby as well. Pamela had to explain their use because Lindsay didn't have the slightest idea what they were. “Dental dams are a thin square of material that acts as a barrier between a person's mouth and another person's genitals.” Many working girls used them if a client wanted to perform oral sex. Made of polyurethane, dental dams resembled a wet wipe but were dry like a paper towel.

“Some girls are extra cautious and not at all comfortable exchanging fluids with their clients, and these give us a layer of protection,” Pamela explained. “Personally, I'm one of them. I don't mind kissing – to an extent – but I always insist on my mongers using dental dams.

“There's one man I'll make an exception for – one monger, I mean – and his name is Corey. He lives in Indianapolis. He's the sweetest guy and has been here an umpteen number of times over the past seven or eight years, and always just parties with me. No one else. We share e-mail every single day, and he sends me random gifts every week without fail. Corey was a virgin when we first met, and I'm still the only woman he's ever been with. I know things are safe with him. He's clean.”

Sounds like you have an amazing provider-client relationship with Corey. Lindsay was already jealous. I bet you're the best, most considerate courtesan in the entire LPIN system. Pamela and her cheery disposition and sweet, spiritual soul captivated Lindsay. You make these guys feel like a million bucks.

Perhaps if she rented out her body enough times, Lindsay could develop something unique with a client too. I’d love for someone to send me gifts every week.

“Colt doesn't require dental dams during parties. However, I recommend them. I wish he required them. I'd hate for someone's life to be ruined.”

Lindsay didn't know if she liked that idea or not. Every man already must wear a condom for both vaginal and oral sex in a brothel. State law mandated it. Sucking cock with a condom over top of it? Wow … unique. Lindsay craved the taste of cum and was looking forward to swallowing copious amounts of it while working here but wasn’t legally allowed to. That was a shock and an unexpected letdown. If I do, Colt will fire me on the spot.

Fuck it. Lindsay decided she wouldn’t require any client to go down on her with a dental dam. Contracting an illness at a brothel, she’d read, happened once in a blue moon. Pamela is being way too cautious, but that’s her right, her decision. Me? Customers can have at my pussy. In Lindsay’s mind, oral sex was meant to be enjoyed with no obstacles getting in the way. Licking pussy through a paper towel? Disgusting! I’d never ask anyone to do that.

While the overanxious turnout filled out legal paperwork yesterday afternoon, Pamela vegged close by and spoke about the expectations of being a “Happy Ending Girl.” She also stressed how important it was for Lindsay to maintain a barrier between herself and the customer at all times.

“You cannot let the customer know a barrier exists. It must be invisible. You must treat every customer like they're the king or queen of the world. Your entire focus should be on them and whatever they desire. Your own pleasure is secondary. Colt will tell you it doesn't even matter.”

“Like Scarlett and the guy who says he wants to leave his wife and marry her? Randy's his name, right? Scarlett had some serious barriers up, but I didn't notice them until after the guy walked away.”

“Exactly,” Pamela said. “Amy provides Randy love, pleasure, and companionship. It's her job.”

Amy?

“She's being paid to provide a service. But Randy is so taken with Scarlett, I mean, not Amy, and this happens to many of our customers – reality becomes blurred.”

Oh, that’s right; I remember now. Amy was Scarlett’s real name.

“In many ways, it's what we strive for as sex workers, as it equates to more money. Randy is in love with Scarlett because all he sees when they're together is a jaw-dropping, vibrant girl young enough to be his daughter.

“Scarlett is submissive, she’s attentive, and hangs on his every word like he's the most important man in the universe. She caresses and consoles him, lets him vent his frustrations about work and an unhappy marriage at home. In bed, she allows him to do things to her that his wife would never even consider. Whatever he asks. And the whole time? Scarlett has a loving smile across her lips, like she's having the time of her life.”

“Scarlett doesn't have any feelings for him in return?”

“No. The only feelings Scarlett has for Randy is he's a returning customer – a regular. He's easy money. Randy gets on her nerves sometimes by talking about getting married and having kids, but she puts up with it. She tolerates him. Randy enjoys fantasizing out loud.”

“And he doesn't know Scarlett is engaged?”

“No. No way.” Pamela gave an agitated frown. “Scarlett lives back east in Cincinnati with her fiancé, Jason, and her son, Aaron, and commutes here every three weeks for work. She's always on the phone with them.

“Says she has another two years left in the sex trade because she hopes to build up more savings. Then she’ll retire and focus on Jason. Wants to settle down and have another kid or two, you know? Being faithful in the past was difficult given Scarlett loves sex and has an addiction to it. But after working here for a couple of years, she says she can do it. She's ready to be monogamous.

“Working in a brothel diminishes one's sex drive … a lot.” Tears threatened Pamela’s eyes and she sniffled. “You learn to be loyal to those who are good to you if you're fortunate enough to have someone in your life – a boyfriend, husband, girlfriend, or whatever. This job, believe it or not, has brought Scarlett and her fiancé closer together.”

How old is Scarlett’s son? While she didn’t appear to be any older than twenty-five, rumor had it the boy was twelve and Lindsay assumed Scarlett could be in her early- to mid-thirties because of it. I’d never guess Scarlett is that old, but would it be a surprise if she is? Riley had no reason to lie about the son’s age, right?

In this business, women had the tendency to approach their appearance the way most people did their job – they worked it. Like Pamela, Scarlett exercised religiously, had a deep tan, and spent a fortune on beauty and skincare products. But apparently, that wasn’t enough – the Riley grapevine also informed Lindsay that Scarlett had her breasts augmented and nose redone.

Lindsay recalled a tweet from a sex worker who attributed her continued success from treating her body as if it were a home renovation project. Some things she fixed herself. Others required professional help. But every aspect had to be in showpiece, open house condition.

I’ve seen pics of courtesans on Twitter who are in their fifties yet don’t look a day over twenty-one. If Scarlett was in her thirties, as Riley indirectly led Lindsay to believe, hard work, a healthy diet, and a fair amount of plastic surgery had knocked a good ten years off her age. Maybe that’s something I need to consider in the future. I hate that my boobs are so small.

“But when Scarlett is with Randy,” Pamela kept talking, “he tells her he loves her. She will reciprocate and tell Randy that she loves him too. He's her favorite customer and always looks forward to seeing him.

“But after Randy leaves, Scarlett could be back in her room twenty minutes later with another client and telling him the exact same thing. Randy is forgotten until his next visit. Scarlett tells her customers whatever they want to hear and is ultra-sincere. At least, she comes across as sincere.

“My opinion? Scarlett is the best all-around provider we have. She puts up an affectionate smokescreen, but that's all it is – a smokescreen, a false facade. She's getting paid to provide a service and never becomes emotional or attached to a client.”

Lindsay’s brow creased and she gnawed on her lower lip. I'll probably fall in love with every single one of mine. “Is that how you are with Corey? The guy you let go down on you without a dental dam? Do you put up a smokescreen and detach yourself?”

“No, not with him.” Pamela’s gaze softened. “I have my barrier up, yes, but Corey is such a sweet guy. He’s my favorite and I care about him a great deal. I mean, with him, it's impossible not to. I don't know why some girl hasn't snatched him up and married him. I always expect him to write me one day and say he met someone and won’t be coming to visit me again. He’s the one and only client I've ever spoken to over the telephone too. Skype, specifically, but it's on my phone. Colt doesn't mind. I call Corey once a month and he sends me a fifty-dollar Etsy gift card, a digital one, and we talk for an hour, maybe two.”

“You charge him … to talk?”

“No. Corey insists I take it. Wants to compensate me for my time. Besides, fifty bucks for an hour or two is nothing. I charged three to five dollars a minute to speak one-on-one with viewers when I was a webcam girl. And it's not like we have phone sex or anything crazy. Corey … he's a perfect gentleman. We talk like long-lost friends. He wants to know how I'm doing.”

“And this guy sends you gifts?”

Her voice grew bubbly. “Lots of ‘em. You’d be surprised.”

I need a sugar daddy of my own.

The in-house buzzer boomed like thunder cracks from Heaven and yanked Lindsay from her memories of talking with Pamela yesterday and sent her stumbling as she hopped out of bed. OhmiGod! My first lineup!

Full of jitters, Lindsay wasted no time. She couldn’t afford the fine for being late and rushed out to the hallway. She was ashamed earlier when choosing her outfit for the evening – a bridal white bra and sheer stockings, and a tiny thong that revealed far more than it hid. Jim helped her pick it out. What kind of girl wears lingerie like this and walks around in it but a slut? A sense of foreboding bit into her belly. Lindsay Michelle Anastacio, welcome to your new life … thot for hire! She had a pink bow in her hair, pink and white plastic bracelets dangling from her right wrist, and a pink ruffle around her left elbow. A pair of modest two-inch pumps completed the delightful ensemble. Remember, this is what you wanted.

But the negative feelings faded once Lindsay gathered the courage to mill around the house a while ago. Every woman she encountered was in revealing lingerie or a plunging, low-cut minidress. Lindsay was “one of them” now and blended in like it was no big deal. Even Colt and Jim paid her minimal attention. Pfft, I can do this.

Pamela, Kenzie, Sahara, and Aaliyah soon joined Lindsay outside the kitchen as they awaited the lineup. Chillin’ with my new squad! Scarlett, Riley, and Nicolette were busy entertaining other customers. Business was flourishing, so they wouldn't be part of the lineup.

Lindsay stole a peek of Pamela and was amazed she'd spent three hours with a client this afternoon (and took his virginity in the process!) and not a single hair was misaligned on her head. Sure, Pamela had since bathed, showered, and reapplied her makeup, but Lindsay would never guess she'd spent her afternoon getting fucked.

Neither would any potential customers, and that was the important thing.

“Ladies, follow me.” Jim led the group through the bar to the lap dance room at the far end. A gentleman was in the center chair and waiting to check out the merchandise.

Overcome with hysteria, Lindsay couldn’t contain herself as she found a spot between Pamela and Sahara. All her tireless research since last fall was about to pay off – she was one hundred percent certain she’d be the girl chosen. Time to start saving for my very own car!

The customer was in his early forties and attractive. Lindsay envisioned him as a business executive from the Midwest whose marriage had grown stale and was in town hoping to spice things up. I can’t wait to see what’s underneath that custom suit you have on, sir.

“Hi, I'm Kayleigh! It's my first day!” The other ladies had animated, humorous reactions as Lindsay introduced herself and stepped back in line. It was subtle, but Pamela gave Lindsay a pat on the ass and offered a flirtatious wink afterward.

I wonder if she'll get fined?

“Who will it be, Brandon?”

Pick me. Pick me. Pick me. I’m DTF!

The idea of this stranger taking her to a private room and having his way with her not only made Lindsay revel in unfettered desire and anticipation, but she became so wet she had the urge to reach inside her G-string and play with herself. Good God, where are my Ben Wa balls and dildo when I need them? She was eager to take this man’s dick, to do her lewd duty, and please him so shamefully.

“I gotta go with Sahara.”

What!?

Caught off-guard, Lindsay's world came crashing down like a house of cards and her stomach lurched. Sahara? He chose … wait, what, why?

She maintained her composure the way Pamela trained her to and followed the others out of the lap dance room while Sahara cozied on up and introduced herself.

“Brandon? Hiiiii! I’m Sahara. It's wonderful to meet you.” The appreciation on her face was evident as she hugged him. “Hmm, you smell so good. Are you a local, or an out-of-towner on vacation?”

Deciding to break away from her coworkers, Lindsay’s black shoes, sling-back designs with moderate heels, clanked as she stomped down the steps to the recreation room. That fucker chose Sahara over me? What the hell? What’s she got that I don’t? Heartbroken, Lindsay plodded straight to a stool in the corner and settled there.

I put on tons of makeup and go to all this trouble to make myself look nice, and that guy didn’t even notice me! Lindsay flexed her fingers and her muscles quivered with hurt and frustration. What the fuck am I doing here? If I can’t get noticed in this – she glanced down and regarded herself in the bridal lingerie – how am I ever going to get noticed? I’ll go to every Goddamn lineup and never get chosen! She pounded her dainty fist on the table with a force that rattled a nearby flower vase.

“Hey. Wanna talk about it?”

Lindsay swiveled around and found Pamela’s large, overflowing breasts at eye level. She hitched in a breath and had the sudden urge to peel away the thin fabric concealing them. Still, negativity won out. Her lips curled into a grimace and she whimpered, “I don’t like lineups! That was humiliating! Degrading!”

“Don’t take it personally. You can’t.” Pamela planted herself on a stool and squeezed Lindsay’s wrist. A light blue, one shoulder minidress wrapped around Pamela’s torso and showcased her flat, toned abdomen with an exposed triangle cutout in front. “No girl likes lineups, honey.”

“Yeah? You don’t say? Really? Tell me about it.” Lindsay couldn’t tear her gaze away from the swell of Pamela’s breasts, and with the way the minidress was designed, her under cleavage.

“Lineups are part of the job. They’re a daily reality, and they’re not going away. If a customer asks for one, we have to provide it.” Pamela steered Lindsay’s hand to her mouth and kissed it. “Again, you can’t take anything personal here. I’ve been telling you that since you first arrived yesterday, haven’t I? You’ll lose your mind if you do.”

“Rejection sucks!” Lindsay stomped over to the loveseat and tossed the two magazines that had been atop it to the floor. “It fucking sucks!” She snarled and her silky blonde hair swung from side to side.

*

Pamela figured this was the first time Lindsay had ever experienced any sort of rejection in her young life. It must be. Back in Citronelle, Lindsay stood atop a pedestal, and more than likely, the entire town catered to her every whim. Especially the guys she went to school with. Pamela was certain they’d roll out the proverbial red carpet whenever she walked from one class to the next.

But things were different here. Brothels were a competitive, winner-take-all environment. They were full of girls who’d been the hottest and most sought-after while attending high school and college. Girls who were accustomed to getting whatever they wanted. Some could adapt, but many failed and fizzled out.

Look at her. Lindsay’s face was puffy, and she slouched on the loveseat with her arms folded, bringing to mind the image of a toddler who’d been sent to timeout.

But Pamela was wired differently. Instead of dismissing Lindsay as self-centered and telling her to suck it up, she was sympathetic. I understand. It made sense given Pamela, a Psychology major, was fascinated by various human emotions and personality types. Everyone is unique and no one should be judged for how they feel.

Was it Lindsay’s fault she grew up in a nothing, nowhere town, and her parents never allowed her to venture outside its confines? She’s happy, she’s cheerful, but has also lived under a rock, and despite being talkative, doesn’t know how to socialize and integrate herself with others yet. Part of that could be chalked up to her youth, however another part could be attributed to being Citronelle’s town princess who could do no wrong. It’s not her fault. She just doesn’t know any better.

Pamela had her viewpoint, unique as it was, but not everyone in the house shared it. Rumblings abounded that Lindsay’s immaturity had rubbed one of the other working ladies the wrong way. Aaliyah thinks she’s a spoiled little brat and should be put on blast.

First things first, though. Pamela needed to have a long talk with Lindsay about rejection and the best way to deal with it. Colt won’t put up with her if she becomes pouty and emotional like this. He’d kick her to the curb without remorse. Every time I get passed over in a lineup, I get rejected too. I don’t like it but refuse to let it bother me.

Another thing Lindsay had to learn about this job, Pamela thought, was that she was selling a product, and that product was her. Although the money could be lucrative, Lindsay would have nights where things wouldn’t go her way. Not every customer would be interested in what she had to offer. Likewise, not every customer was attracted to Pamela either. We all go through slumps. To see other girls succeeding and raking in money while she was having a slow night was difficult.

Working here can be a surefire way to practice hating yourself. Lindsay couldn’t allow that cycle of rejection to get to her. It was constant and would never end. If she wasn’t careful, Lindsay may wind up feeling worthless in the long run.

Maybe even suicidal.

“What’s wrong with me?”

Pamela’s heart plummeted once a dramatic whine escaped from Lindsay’s throat, each word louder and more animated than the one before it. In the blink of an eye Pamela was kneeling beside Lindsay, one arm around her shoulder, and a hand grasping her kneecap.

“Nothing is wrong with you, sweetheart.” Pamela moved her hand to Lindsay’s upper thigh. “Nothing at all.”

Lindsay stared at that hand, which radiated empathy, however it wasn’t enough to topple her dismay. “Why didn’t that guy choose me?” The grimace remained.

Instead of talking Lindsay up and giving her a rah-rah speech, which may sound disingenuous, Pamela took the simple route. “I don’t know, honey. But I do know that man doesn’t realize what he’s missing.” Yet her soul ached when the hurt deepened in Lindsay’s eyes.

*

“That lineup made me feel like shit! I … I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I don’t know if I want to do this!” Am I attractive enough for this job? “A lot of times, I feel so out of place here. I’m the youngest girl and everyone else has tons of experience, and when I compare myself to someone like you, there is …”

Lindsay’s world and everything in it exploded in flames once Pamela’s soft, precious lips swooped in and silenced her with a kiss. The world froze; it was as if time had stopped, and Lindsay sensed all the negative emotions she’d experienced thus far fade off into oblivion.

They were gone, just like that.

Lindsay relished Pamela’s tongue upon her mouth and leaned in closer to maintain contact. There was no shyness or hesitation on her part. The kiss may have only lasted three seconds, but it was long enough to make Lindsay’s soul come alive like never before. Her heartbeat accelerated and helped unearth powerful emotions that she’d never knew existed.

When their lips parted, Lindsay let out a deep, contented sigh, gazed into Pamela’s eyes, and found her heart gushing with love and endless affection. Kissing Pamela was warm and delightful and gratifying and thrilling and made Lindsay’s body hum in the most exhilarating way imaginable. It made her believe she’d died and gone to Heaven. Without question, those few seconds were the best few seconds of her life.

“I said,” Pamela, her features glazed over as well, whispered against Lindsay’s sweet, pliable lips, “nothing is wrong with you.” She splayed a series of butterfly kisses along Lindsay’s cheek and stopped shy of her ear. “Nothing.”

Everything in Lindsay surrendered to Pamela yet begged for more at the same time.

Did Lindsay have any idea how adorable she was when she blushed like this, a perfect combination of sultry and innocent? It didn’t often happen, but Pamela got swept up by this mutual, red-hot attraction too. It didn’t matter why or how, either, or for what reason – Pamela wanted Lindsay’s delicate, nubile curves beneath her in a hot, naked tangle in bed.

Right now.

“Never doubt yourself, baby. You’re gorgeous and will make a ton of money here in due time. Trust me, okay? I can’t believe how gorgeous you are.”

Lindsay braced herself as Pamela’s mouth met hers once again for a tenacious, hungry kiss. It was like a runaway locomotive this time that continued to pick up speed. Wanting to match her aggressiveness, Lindsay grabbed Pamela’s long, braided ponytail and coiled it around her fist as they assaulted each other’s mouths.

Tongues dueled and explored every nook and cranny. Lindsay’s hands traversed the length of Pamela’s spine, her shoulders, touching and kneading her sides. God, Pamela was amazing, divine and voluptuous, and so tempting as a sensation gained traction between Lindsay’s thighs that could only be taken care of in one way.

“What would you say about going up to my bedroom with me, honey?”

Her heart dancing, that was the best idea Lindsay had ever heard. “I’d like that.”

“Kayleigh!”

Both ladies glanced back to the stairwell where that familiar voice originated from. Colt was on bent knee at the top, his eyes fixated on them, his expression conflicted. “Kayleigh, you have a customer in the lobby asking to see you. He saw your pictures on our website and is intent on booking a party.”

Pamela scowled and her head dropped as Lindsay’s complexion paled. A customer? Now?

How could such a magical moment be squashed? Lindsay had waited forever to be kissed by another woman like this! She and Pamela were seconds away from making this into an even more amazing experience, one she’d cherish for the rest of her life.

But it got interrupted.

Colt cocked an eyebrow. “Should I tell the man you’re not available?”

“No,” Pamela answered for Lindsay with a simper. Like Colt, she understood they weren’t in the business of turning potential johns away. As tough as this was to accept, she and Lindsay would have plenty of time to play later tonight. “Give us a few minutes, okay? I’ll have Kayleigh ready as soon as I can.”

Colt rose to his feet. “Hurry. Time is money.” He backpedaled and disappeared from sight.

“No!” Lindsay was beside herself but spoke in a low tone as Pamela twisted to face her. She didn’t want Colt to hear her protesting. “I want to be with you! Let’s go up to your room!” Lindsay’s whiny voice intensified. “Please, Pamela! Please!”

“You’re here to make money and a client wants to see you.” Pamela understood that the customer always came first. She and Colt were interrupted earlier this morning, too, when Charlie showed up and picked her for a GFE. “How about we spend some time together after you see your customer? Just you and me, okay?” She lifted a strand of Lindsay’s hair and let it fall back into place. “We’ll pick up right where we left off.”

Lindsay shoved away and sank into the sofa as a tear plummeted down her cheek.

“You need to make some money. It’s why you’re here, right? And don’t forget, you still owe me six hundred and sixty-three dollars.” There was a thickness in Pamela’s throat for saying that last part, but she hoped it would snap Lindsay back to reality. “We’ll have plenty of downtime between clients to enjoy ourselves, I promise.”

“You’re right, I guess…”

“So, wow, yeah. Your first client. How exciting!” A brief smile of realization overtook Lindsay’s lips as Pamela added, “Remember, honey, you're still in training. If the client is okay with it, I'd like to sit in and listen to you talk with him. And I'll do the negotiations for you, too, as long as the customer doesn't mind.”

Right. You're my Big Sister and you're helping me out this week. Showing me the ropes.

“But if we can agree on a price, you're on your own with the customer after that. I'm not going to sit there and watch the two of you have sex.”

How about we make it a threesome, then? Lindsay no longer cared if her first girl-girl experience took place during a party. Plain and simple, I want Pamela, and I want her right now. I don’t want to wait until later tonight and I’m fine if it’s in a threesome with a random client.

*

“Sammy!” A few moments later, Pamela broke away from Lindsay and rushed over to the man in the parlor for a long, spirited hug. “Oh my God! Sammy, I haven't seen you since Christmas! Where have you been?”

Rooted in the shadows, Lindsay craned her neck to obtain a better view as her imagination had gotten out of hand. Who is this man? Sammy? You’re … older. Wow, a lot older. You remind me of Uncle Craig. Her pulse kicked up. I’m skipping out on being with Pamela for you? What made you choose me off the website? A wave of tingles spread through her from head to toe and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. I like older men.

This was a different feeling than being in the lineup earlier, too, one Lindsay couldn’t explain. Oh my. You asked for me by name? Do you want me naked and to have sex with me? Can I … can I do this with a stranger?

“It's not like you to be away from us this long, Sammy!” A big goofy grin pulled at Pamela’s mouth as she pecked his cheek. “I’ve been worried sick about you! I haven’t seen any posts from you on the bulletin board in months.”

“I'm still here, fortunately. Alive and kicking!”

“Sammy is one of our best mongers,” Colt said.

Monger? There was that strange word again. What does it mean? Pushing that thought aside, Lindsay assessed the man. He was older, at least fifty-five or sixty in her estimation, with white hair and a stocky, muscular build. He was well-dressed, sophisticated and handsome, in a button-down shirt and slacks.

His hand was groping Pamela’s ass too.

“You still live in Salt Lake, pal?”

“Sure do. Will never leave it.”

Pamela squealed and wiggled her hips as Sammy pulled his hand away.

“Sorry,” he grinned at Colt. “Couldn’t help myself. You’re quite the lucky man.”

Lindsay nibbled on her lower lip, drew her shoulders back, and gazed at Colt. He didn’t seem to have any response to Sammy touching Pamela.

“Been back up to Alaska for any trout fishing?”

Colt is used to random guys showing up and fucking his wife. Lindsay offered a nonchalant shrug. It’s happened thousands of times before, so why would he show any reaction to this guy putting his hands on her? I bet he didn’t even notice.

“Oh, yeah. I travel to Alaska as often as I can. I love trout fishing almost as much as I love this brothel.”

“Sammy, I want you to meet Kayleigh.” Pamela motioned toward Lindsay. “Today is her first official day on the job!”

“Hi,” the sweet blonde girl said before casting a nervous, split-second glance back toward Pamela. I think I like him. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Whoa. Your first day?” Sammy’s eyes burned fanatically as he appraised the young woman before him that he’d soon purchase, her innocence accentuated by the lacey lingerie that it made his chest constrict with desire and tenderness. Lindsay’s downcast blue eyes glowed with an adorable shyness and her awkward stance from wearing the pumps made Sammy want to sweep her into his arms and carry her off to bed.

“Kayleigh, eh? A pleasure to meet you, too, my dear. I noticed on the website you graduated from high school last month.” He extended his hand. “First day, huh? Have you had your first party yet?”

The simplicity of accepting that hand had a profound effect on Lindsay. She regarded her fingers, delicate and slender, wound around his larger, much thicker ones. So sexy. Her eyes flashed upward and loomed inquisitive as she cataloged Sammy’s face, particularly his chiseled jaw and neat, well-trimmed beard. “No sir. No, I haven't.”

“Oh, man. I get to be your first? Wow. Wow!” He was practically jumping up and down as if he had ants in his pants. “I've never been the first in all the brothels I've visited. Second or third a few times, but never the first.”

Pamela dazzled with her pearly whites. “Kayleigh, Sammy has been coming to Happy Ending Ranch even longer than I've been alive. I’ve partied with him twenty or thirty times over the years. We always have a great time!”

“Never a dull moment with Pamela.” Sammy pointed at the dusting of glitter across Pamela's exposed torso that she'd often sprinkle on herself at work. “See that glitter? Always gotta take a shower after seeing this chick, else I'll go home with it caked all over me and it upsets the wife. Tells her where I've been … and who I've been with.”

Pamela hugged him again. “You love my glitter! You know it's my trademark!” She flashed another devastating smile as his hand slid over the vast expanse of her breasts.

Colt wagged a finger with a forced grin. “Watch it, my friend. You know the rules. Gotta fork out some cash if you wanna touch Pamela like that.”

“Man, you’re breakin’ my balls!” Sammy stepped away, chuckled, and held both hands up in surrender. “Not even a quick freebie, huh? Cold, man. Real cold.”

Soon enough, Sammy zeroed-in on Lindsay and opened a dialogue as Pamela listened and Colt tended to Nicolette and her customer, who'd finished their party and returned to the bar. “Where are you from, darlin'?”

“California.” I need to relax and loosen up. “Palm Springs, the desert.”

“Ehh, the desert? You enjoy it there?”

“No, not really. But it's what I'm used to.” Lindsay toyed with her hair. “Been there my whole life.”

“I’d never live in the desert. I love Vegas, but it's way too hot. Palm Springs too.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s rough.” Lindsay wrinkled her nose and tried to be as personable as possible. She had never sat down and talked with an older man like this before. Not in this situation, that's for sure. In all likelihood, she was moments away from having sex with him!

Did her hopeless attraction make the reality of what was about to happen better or worse? Lindsay didn’t know. However, one thing was for certain: there was an awful lot to like about this man.

His expensive clothes. His voice. His beard.

Definitely his beard.

And that confident, brash attitude. Sammy was a frequent customer, and Lindsay worried if she could meet his lofty standards. He understood this brothel game inside and out, knew what he wanted, and didn’t seem to be the type who’d take “no” for an answer.

“It's just … I'm sure Salt Lake is … better.” The eighteen-year-old did her part to keep the conversation rolling and maintained a smile, per Pamela’s teachings, but felt like pursing her lips together and pressing the timeout button to reconsider her decisions yet again.

I can do this. It’s just sex, right?

I want to do this.

Or do I?

Tonight, this man is going to fuck me in exchange for money. I must do whatever he says and please him at all costs, else Colt will boot me out of the house, and I’ll be forced to head back to Citronelle. Yet there will still be nude pics of me accessible on the Internet.

Forever.

Similar thoughts ran roughshod through Lindsay’s mind. She’d come a long way since that fateful afternoon when the school counselor, Mr. Brennan, caught her and Zack fucking in the auditorium. Or when she gave Zack a blowjob in the coat closet on Christmas Day with her family gathered in the nearby living room. Alison said I went through holiday dinner with a glob of jizz on my neck! God, I hope no one else noticed.

Such lewd, wanton acts served as a precursor of things to come, a warmup of sorts – practice – for what would one day be the decision Lindsay could never claw back. Would she regret it? This was her destiny in life, perhaps the legacy she’d leave behind.

Tonight, I become a whore.

“So, this is your first day working in the brothel, huh? That's difficult to believe.” Sammy reached out and placed a firm, authoritative hand on Lindsay's kneecap, and it made her heart shift into a higher gear. “What made you decide on this profession?”

I can do this. I’m going to work hard and be the best damn whore this house has ever had. Lindsay had no need to fight that word anymore, right? Deny or take offense to it? It’s my job title; my chosen profession.

I’m a whore.

“Hmm, something different. Kind of dippin' my toes in the waters of life, I guess.” Lindsay was trying to maintain her composure but found it difficult with these impure ideas, as well as Sammy swiping his thumb over and across her exposed thigh. His touch was electrifying and added to the dizzy haze her brain was already in. “Wanting to branch out and have new adventures.”

He kissed her hand. “Oh, tonight is gonna be a treat.”

This man is going to destroy me. “Tell me about yourself.”

“What's there to tell? I work for a pharmaceutical manufacturer in Salt Lake City. I'm in corporate and the job gets stressful at times. So, when I get the chance, I like to treat myself to irresistible young girls like you.”

A blazing heat spread across Lindsay’s face. “Irresistible? Th-Thank you.” She found herself tongue-twisted. Lindsay thought the gentleman was sweet and enjoyed his excessive praise. After the fiasco with the lineup earlier, the boost of confidence did her good.

“I'm excited to be here.”

Lindsay’s face sparkled. “I'm excited to be here for you too.” Would you object if I were to call you Daddy? I'd like that. It would turn me on.

Sammy again eyed Lindsay from head to toe in her lingerie set. “You look much better in person than your pictures, and those pictures are amazing.” His hand rubbed her thigh and the curve at the bottom of her hip. “I was driving home from a business meeting in Vegas and figured I'd stop by the ranch and see if my favorite, Scarlett, was working. I checked the website in the parking lot and noticed someone new on it – you. I've been with countless working girls over the years, honey, but your body … your body is fantastic. It’s perfect.”

Oh, yeah. Keep going! Lindsay may have been speechless but welcomed these compliments and hoped they’d never end.

“I adore Scarlett, but I must have you. I'm so glad you're not with another client. I almost lost it when I saw the picture of you with the teddy bear and the pigtails. So. Fucking. Hot. That sealed the deal for me.”

“Don't worry,” Pamela chimed in for Lindsay, knowing she had to say something for her, “Kayleigh plans on showing you a good time, Sammy.”

His gaze shifted. “Don't think I've forgotten you, darlin', because I haven't … not for a second. I'd love to stay and chat, but the wife will get suspicious if I'm too late arriving home, and I’m not in the mood to deal with her bullshit tonight. That damn meeting took forever, and I did not want to be there. I have time for one hour, tops.”

Pamela gave his shoulder a playful shove. “You better not forget me! You're one of my favorite clients.”

“I'll often spend a couple of days in town and have multiple parties with multiple girls. Sometimes, every girl in the house! But, as I said, I'm pressed for time.” Sammy clasped hands with Lindsay. “I want to go back to your room and talk about having a party with you.”

Having accepted her so-called destiny, Lindsay was still blushing. And ecstatic. “Okay.”

Pamela stood. “Do you mind if I tag along and do the negotiating, Sammy? Kayleigh is new, and we want to train her to do things the right way around here.”

“That’s fine. I know the drill.”

“Kayleigh, escort the man back to your room.” Pamela’s voice was light and bubbly. “Hold his hand and guide him.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, Pamela. Yes, yes, of course.” Lindsay struggled with short, rapid breaths as Pamela followed them to her bedroom. This stranger is about to put his dick in me.

(Chapter Five will continue in the next submission)