The light of the Sunset Motel sign flickered and buzzed, giving the entrance an eerie feeling. The parking lot is half full, with cars that have seen better days. I stepped out of my car and strode confidently across the parking lot, my overnight tote over my shoulder. I moved quickly, trying to avoid any glances from strangers on the street that might show an interest.

An electric chime rang as I pushed open the door to the lobby. The place smells of cigarettes and cheap air freshener, a combination that sends a shiver of anticipation as I am reminded of my last time in a cheap motel like this.

"Evenin," the clerk said, a middle-aged Indian man whose breath reeked of cumin as he spoke, overpowering the other odors in the room. "Checking in?"

"Yes, please," I say, shifting uncomfortably in the same blue plastic heels from last time as I watch him look me up and down.

His gaze lingers for a moment on my short skirt, then his eyes slowly move up to my stomach and dangly navel piercing before stopping at my chest straining in the crop top I was wearing.

"Very nice room for you, miss. Very special," he says, his accent thick. "We have ten porno channels, all premium quality. Very clean sheets too. Twenty-five dollars per hour, and if you want fresh sheets, only ten dollars more each time."

I blinked rapidly, caught off guard by how matter-of-fact he was on the hourly room rates. He had judged me by my appearance to be a working girl, and my knees went a little weak.

"Actually, um... how much for the whole night?" I ask, my voice dropping, suddenly embarrassed by being there.

His eyebrows shoot up, and a smile spreads across his face. He glances toward the door, then back at me.

"Oh, I was thinking you were working," he chuckles, tapping his fingers on the counter. "For the whole night, seventy-five dollars. But no sheet changes for that price, you understand?"

My cheeks flush hot. I should be offended, but instead, I find myself happy that I have achieved the look I was going for.

"That works," I say, sliding my credit card across the counter.

He shakes his head. "Cash only." As he slides a registration card for me to fill out. I realize this is a place that has no records on purpose. I could be anyone on the registration card. I filled in the name and address lines. And signed it, Jade Miller.

I dig through my purse and pull out four twenties, sliding them across the counter. He takes the money, counts it slowly, then hands me back a five.

"Room 118. End of hall, more private," he says with a wink. "Remote control on nightstand has special buttons for special channels. Enjoy your evening."

“Thank you, but I was kind of hoping for something in the middle.”

He looked at me, confused by my request, and then it dawned on me that he must think that if I wasn’t a hooker, then I must be there to have an affair.

"Walls are thin, but suit yourself."

He turned back, changed keys, and handed me an old plastic fob, chipped at the edges and marked with faded numbers. As I take it, our fingers brush momentarily. “Room 115, right in the middle.”

"Thanks," I mutter, turning quickly toward the exit.

I push through the door without waiting for him to respond, the bell ringing behind me.

The shoes seem to stick to the carpet as I navigate the dimly lit corridor. It's only 7 PM, but the motel is already alive with activity. From behind the closed doors, I can hear the unmistakable sounds of fake moans from porn videos mingling with the authentic groans of physical encounters. The pungent smell of marijuana seeps from under doorframes, mixing with the lingering scent of bleach, cheap perfume, and sex.

I can hear the thumping of bedframes and the moans coming from working girls earning their pay behind almost every door as I move down the hall. I feel dizzy with excitement from being here in this place. I count the room numbers as I walk. 109... 111... almost there, when a door opens about fifteen feet in front of me.

A woman steps out, turning in my direction. She's short but stands taller in her six-inch platforms. Her bleached blonde hair cascaded down her ebony shoulders to the tight leopard-print dress she is wearing that barely covers her essentials. Her makeup is heavy but expertly applied. Her eyes narrow slightly under the fake lashes as she assesses me. Her gaze travels from my face down to my outfit and back up again. A knowing smile plays across her painted purple lips.

"I ain’t seen you before, first time working the Sunset, baby?" she asks, her voice seems to purr as she speaks.

I freeze, clutching my room key tighter. "What? No! I'm…I'm just staying the night. Passing through town." The words tumble out awkwardly.

She laughs, and it somehow puts me at ease. "Relax, baby girl. No judgment here." She extends a hand with long, purple acrylic nails. "I'm Destiny. Been working, I mean passing through this place for three years now."

"Kay..," I say automatically, then wince at revealing my real name. "I mean, Jade."

Destiny's eyes sparkle with amusement. "First rule, sweetheart—pick one name and stick with it." She leans against the wall, studying me. "So what's your story, 'Just Passing Through'? This ain't exactly the Motel 7."

Before I can answer, a door opens further down the hall. A middle-aged man in a rumpled suit steps out, tucking in his shirt. He nods at Destiny, avoiding eye contact, then hurries toward the exit.

"Gotta love the married ones," Destiny murmurs. "Always in such a rush." She turns back to me. “You going to be ok?”

I shift my overnight bag nervously. "I'll be fine. I’m just passing through and needed a place to sleep."

Destiny smirks. "Got it, 'Jade.' Word of advice? You'll hear everything through these paper-thin walls, and in a place like this can be... educational." She leans in closer, her perfume, something sweet, enveloping me. " So be careful. Some of these johns might get the wrong idea, especially if they see you wandering the hall dressed like that.” She paused and leaned back. “If you change your mind about 'just passing through,' room 117 is where the regulars know to find me. I don't mind showing a newcomer the ropes."

The scent of her perfume lingers in the air as she walks away from me toward the lobby. I find myself watching her walk away, the confidence in her stride something I couldn't fake if I tried.

I locate room 115 and slide the key into the lock, noticing that Destiny and I will be neighbors. It takes three attempts before the mechanism grudgingly gives way. The door swings open with a creak, revealing exactly what I expected: a shabby room with a queen-sized bed dominating the space, covered in a faded floral bedspread pitted with cigarette burns.

I drop my bag on the bed and take a deep breath. This is it. My sanctuary for the night. My space to explore and experience everything I've been fantasizing about for the past three weeks.

I check my phone, no messages, no calls. What was I expecting? That David would somehow sense I was here and reach out? I toss the phone onto the nightstand and begin unpacking my supplies for the evening: vodka, diet soda, my trusty vibrator, and the collection of new toys I'd brought along.

I reach for the remote. As promised, there are special buttons, unmarked but designated for the adult channels.

I sit on the edge of the bed, listening to the sounds of the rooms around me. From room 113, I can hear a porno playing; there is a rhythmic thumping coming from the room above me, and things are quiet in Destiny’s room. This is what I came for: to be surrounded by real sex workers, real johns, real transactions. To feel the thrill of proximity to a world that I long to play in.

I flip through the channels, my thumb pressing the worn remote buttons until I find something that catches my attention. On screen, a young woman with dark hair and a collar around her neck is kneeling before two men in an expensive-looking bedroom. Her makeup is running down her face, streaking her cheeks, but her eyes are full of excitement as one man grips her hair.

I recognized something in her expression that I'd seen in my own mirror, that hunger to be used.

I watched for several minutes, transfixed, until my throat felt parched. I needed a drink.

I grabbed the ice bucket from the dresser and headed out into the hallway. The ice machine hummed at the end of the corridor, a flickering fluorescent light casting everything in a sickly glow. I opened the lid and started to scoop ice into the bucket. As the chunks thumped against plastic, I heard a door open behind me.

"Getting comfortable, I see." It was Destiny's voice, smoother now than before.

I turned, ice bucket clutched to my chest like a shield. "Just... mixing a drink."

She nodded knowingly, her eyes taking in my flushed cheeks. "Found the special channels, huh?" When I didn't answer, she laughed. "Those walls really are paper-thin, baby girl. I can hear your TV in my room."

Heat rushed to my face. "Sorry, I'll turn it down."

"Don't bother on my account." She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. "What are you really doing here, Jade? Because nobody comes to the Sunset just to watch porn alone."

I clutch the ice bucket tighter. "I'm not... I mean, I haven't..."

I hurry back to my room, ice sloshing in the bucket, my heart pounding in my chest. Once inside, I lock the door and lean against it, taking a moment to calm down.

I move to the sink and unwrap one of the plastic cups and mix myself a vodka with diet soda, the ice cracking as the warm liquid hits it. I took a long swallow. Returning to the bed where the porn is still playing. The woman is now sandwiched between the two men, begging them to fuck her harder.

My fingers find my clit, and I sit staring into the TV, really not focused on anything. Finally, I finish my drink and decide I need another and my wand.

As I poured another vodka, I heard Destiny in the room beside me talking, then I heard the unmistakable deep voice of a male. With a guy.

I moved quietly to the wall that we shared and pressed my ear to the to try to hear better.

Their voices became clearer, and I could hear Destiny's sultry laugh.

Then a man's voice gave some kind of command, followed by her moans in response. I couldn't make out every word, but I caught fragments: "...just like that..." and "...worth every penny..."

My heart was racing as I returned to the bed, downing my drink in one burning gulp. The vodka hits my system, and I immediately pour another. The sounds intensify, and the headboard begins to knock rhythmically against our wall.

I lean back against my pillows, hiking my skirt up around my waist. My panties are already soaked through. I push them aside and slide two fingers into my aching pussy, matching my rhythm to the thumping next door.

"Fuck me harder," Destiny commands. The man grunts in response, and the tempo increases.

I reach for my vibrator with my free hand, switching it on and pressing it to my clit while my fingers continue working inside me. The dual sensation makes my back arch off the bed.

On the TV, the blonde woman is having her ass used by a man with a huge cock. I watch through half-open eyes, my focus split between the pornographic imagery and the live soundtrack from Destiny. My fingers curl inside me, finding that perfect spot that makes my legs begin to tremble.

"Harder," I heard Destiny command through the wall. "Fuck my cunt harder."

Male grunting is now clearly audible in my room. The sounds next door intensified, skin against skin, the headboard now slamming rhythmically. I heard the man grunt, "Take it all, you dirty—"

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" Destiny's voice filters through, professional yet somehow authentic in its urgency. "That's it. Give it to me."

The man's grunts grow louder, more primal. The headboard slams against the causing my mirror to bounce slightly. I imagine what they must look like, Destiny with her leopard dress pushed up, the nameless man driving into her harder and harder, slapping her ass as he does. My fingers are plunging in and out of my pussy as I listen,

My own orgasm builds rapidly. I pump my fingers faster, harder, the wet sounds of my pussy competing with the sex sounds surrounding me.

"Oh fuck," I whisper.

The man next door lets out a guttural groan. The headboard gives one last thump against the wall. Then silence, save for my own heavy breathing and the slut on the TV's moans.

I’m so close. I keep going, three fingers now stretching me open, the vibrator buzzing relentlessly against my hard, swollen clit.

Then it hit me with such force that I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. Waves of pleasure crash through me, my pussy clenching around my fingers. I ride it out, prolonging every aftershock.

As I catch my breath, I hear movement next door. A toilet flushing. Water running. Then a door opens and closes.

Another transaction completed.

I withdraw my fingers, seeing them glisten in the dim light.

I close my eyes for a moment, feeling the peaceful bliss of my orgasm afterglow wash over me. Then an idea popped into my drunk and still horny mind. I pick up my phone and point it toward the mirror. Looking at my screen, I see the porn playing on the TV beside the mirror, while the mirror shows my reflection, my tits hanging out of my top, my pussy wet and shiny as I hold it open.

I snapped the picture, and before better judgment could stop me, the picture was sent to David.

I got up and went to the bathroom, and when I returned, my notification light was blinking. I had two new messages from David. Two new messages in less than three minutes after three long weeks of hearing nothing.

The first message read: "What are you doing, my little slut?"

The second: "I bet you're wet thinking about me."

My fingers tremble as I type back: "I'm at the Sunset Motel, surrounded by hookers fucking. Can hear everything through the walls. Been touching myself thinking about the last time."

I hit send again before I can second-guess myself, then quickly add: "I brought all my toys. Been getting myself off imagining I was your hooker, and it was you making me cum."

I stare at the screen, watching the three dots appear almost immediately. My heart seems to stop as I wait for his reply.

"Are you having fun, little slut?"

I bite my lip, typing back: "Could be having more fun if you were here."

The next message makes my breath catch.

"What can I get for $100?"

My pussy clenches at his question. Oh god, this is exactly what I wanted for the last three weeks. I should’ve done this sooner.

"Whatever you want," I type back, my hands shaking with excitement. "$100 gets you an hour. My mouth, my pussy, my ass—whatever holes you want to use. Provided you have the cash."

"I want you ready. Plug in that ass, I want my money's worth. I'll be there in 30."

"Yes, Sir," I respond, already scrambling off the bed to prepare.

"Room number?"

My heart thunders in my chest. "115”.

I rush to the bathroom and quickly freshen up. The alcohol in my system makes everything feel dreamlike as I brush my teeth and splash cold water on my face. I apply fresh lipstick—the deep red shade that I wore last time.

Back in the bedroom, I dig through my bag for the largest plug I brought. It's black silicone, intimidating in size to me anyway. It is about 5 inches long and about one or one and a half inches at its widest part. It was brand new, and I quickly ripped it from the package. Holding it in my hand, I realized how big it was, and I paused, thinking maybe it was too big.

“Fuck it, I have had cocks bigger in my ass,” I say out loud as I coat it generously with lube. Leaning against the flimsy desk, I begin to work the rest of the lube on my fingers into my tight puckered hole. I moan softly as I work my manicured fingers in and out of my ass. I bend over further on the desk and press the tip to my hole and press forward. I squint my eyes as I keep pressing, my ass not wanting to open up for it. I have to stop. Taking a few big breaths, I try again. I can feel my ass opening for it this time. I keep the pressure constant, and I feel it slowly enter me. I hold my breath as my ass opens wider, then suddenly it is over. My ass is swallowing it up and closing around the thinner tapered end. I lay on the desk panting for a moment before I try to stand up, my legs shaking from the booze and sensations of my full bottom.

From next door, I hear Destiny's door open and close again. Another client, already. Her voice filters through, the same professional warmth she'd used earlier. "Hey, baby, come on in. You're right on time."

I sit on the edge of the bed, waiting, checking the time on my phone, anxious for him to arrive. Sitting pressed the plug in deeper into my stretched ass, a constant reminder of what's to come. I leave the porn playing on the TV, the moans from the actors mixing with the sounds of Destiny starting her next session.

As I shift in my seat to adjust my position, three sharp knocks sound on my door. I jump up so quickly I nearly lose my balance, the plug shifting inside me and sending a jolt through my body. I stumble to the mirror, the look of a desperate whore. My lipstick is perfect, my eyes filled with anticipation, my nipples visibly hard through the thin fabric of my crop top.

I take a steadying breath before turning the handle.

David stands in the doorway, looking even more commanding than I remembered. His eyes travel slowly down my body like the first time we met.

"I've been waiting for you," I say, trying to sound confident like Destiny would.

"Well, well," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "My little slut almost looks like a pro."

He steps inside without waiting for an invitation, and I close the door behind him. He pulls out a crisp hundred-dollar bill from his pocket, holding it between two fingers. It doesn’t look like a lot, and five twenties would have felt like more.

I reach for the money, but he pulls it back. "Not yet. First, you earn it."

He plopped down on the bed, leaving me standing beside the TV looking down at him.

"Watching that for inspiration?" he asks, nodding toward the porn playing on the screen.

I blush, knowing I have been watching so much porn since the last time we were together.

"For the next hour, you're my whore. You're just something I'm renting. Understand?" his tone shifted and was almost kind, as if he was asking permission before we got started. Yet it held a small, sinister undertone to it as well.

I nod eagerly.

"Let's see if you're worth the money," he says, using his free hand to unbuckle his belt.

Through the wall, I can hear Destiny beginning her performance. David glances toward the sound, then back at me with a wicked grin.

"Seems we have some competition from next door," he says. "Let's see if you can put on a better show. Maybe even make her john jealous, he doesn’t have such an enthusiastic fuck.”

David leans back and pushes his pants and underwear down, and spreads his legs. The head of his half-rigid cock glistened with pre-cum, calling me.

I drop to my knees in front of him. The carpet is rough against my skin, but I don't care. I look up expectantly and lean forward, my mouth watering at the sight of his cock. I run my tongue along the underside of his length, tracing the vein from base to tip. His sharp intake of breath tells me I'm doing something right. I slowly circle my tongue around the head, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum before wrapping my lips around him. Breathing out my warm breath causes his cock to twitch and swell in my hand.

"That's it," he murmurs, tangling his fingers in my hair.

I kept bobbing my head, sucking him in and out of my mouth. David tightened his grip in my hair, controlling my movements. "Look at me when you swallow my cock," he demands.

My eyes had been half-closed as I savored the taste of him, but when I looked up into his face. He forced it deep in my mouth and down my throat. My eyes water as I struggle not to gag, but I'm determined to please him. I move my tongue back and forth against his shaft as he holds his cock in my mouth. He lets go, and I’m able to pull back and catch my breath for a moment before I take him back in my mouth this time, sucking harder, hollowing out my cheeks as I bob my head. The wet, sloppy sounds of my mouth working his cock fill the room, complementing the moans from the porn still playing on the TV.

"That's it," he growls. "Take it all."

I double my efforts, sucking him, trying to please him. Trying to make him happy so he won't leave me for three weeks again. I want him to want me. I start to work harder on giving him the best blowjob he could ever want. I swirl my tongue around his head before I bob my head down my tongue pressed flat and tight against the underside of his cock. With a deep breath, I concentrate on relaxing my throat, letting him slide deeper. I hold my breath, then suck as hard as I can as I slowly bob my head back up.

I raise my eyes to meet his, never breaking rhythm. He smirks at me, making my pussy clench, desperate to be filled. I can feel my juices bubbling out of me.

"Fuck, you've gotten better at this," he groans, his hips starting to thrust forward, forcing his cock deeper down my throat. "You're such a natural little whore."

I moan around his cock, spreading up my pace, moving my hands up to grope his balls, gently massaging them as I continue to work his cock. His fingers tighten in my hair as he starts to rock his hips faster, fucking my face with increasing urgency. I struggle to breathe through my nose. He is starting to pant and fuck in and out of my mouth faster, and I prepare myself to swallow his cum.

Then suddenly he pushed me off, sending me onto my ass, driving the plug deeper. Get up and turn around whore.”

I rose from the floor and grabbed the hem of my crop top and pulled it over my head, revealing my breasts to him. Then I turn, raising my skirt to reveal the base of the plug nestled between my cheeks.

"Good girl," he says, running a finger around the base, then thumping it, making me flinch. “Now take that skirt off, I don’t have all night.”

He watches me shimmy out of my skirt, leaving me standing in just the cheap blue heels.

He holds the money up again. I reach for it, and he presses the bills in my hand.

"Put it in your purse," he orders. "Then get that whore ass of yours in the middle of the bed.”

I quickly tuck the money into my purse, turning it into a slip onto the bed and slowly crawl to the center.

Lying on my back, I look up at David, parting my legs.

"Spread those legs wider," he demands, pulling his shirt over his head.

I spread my legs wide, giving him a perfect view of my pussy and the plug nestled in my tight hole.

His hand goes to his hard cock, stroking it toward me. My hand moves to my pussy, finding my clit.

He reaches down into his discarded pants and pulls out a condom package.

"You don't need that," I say, my voice husky with need. "I'm clean, I promise."

David's expression hardens. "I don't fuck nasty whores without one. That's rule number one," he said flatly before tearing it open with his teeth.

The word 'whore' sends unexpected emotions through me, causing my pussy to twitch under my fingers. He rolls the latex down his length, the rubber stretching over his cock, making it look smooth and shiny.

Kneeling between my spread legs, the cheap mattress creaked loudly under his weight. We hear Destiny's moans growing louder, the headboard banging rhythmically against our shared wall.

"Sounds like she's earning her pay," David says with a smirk, gripping his cock and moving it to my entrance. "Let's see if you can earn yours too."

He pushes forward, filling me in one thrust. Gasping, my back arches off the bed. The sensation of his cock filling me with the plug still embedded in my ass is almost overwhelming.

"Fuck," I cry out.

David chuckles, “Trying to show that slut next door who the bigger whore is?”

Blushing, I bite my lip as he starts to move in and out of my pussy.

"So fucking tight for a little whore," David grunts as he begins to fuck me hard and deep, picking up the pace as he does. "Worth every fucking penny."

My pussy grips his cock as he speaks. His words affected me. Helping me completely immerse myself in my hooker fantasy.

David grabs my ankles, holding my legs up and open, using them to pull me into him with each thrust. Our bed now starts to slam against the wall, and it feels like David is trying to match the tempo from next door.

"Harder, please harder, " I beg, "Make me earn that money."

It felt ridiculous saying it, but the hooker in me was taking over. I wanted to feel like a cheap piece of property. My hands went to my breasts, holding them together. I squeezed them as I looked into his face.

He withdraws almost completely before slamming back into me with such force that the entire bed shifts.

“SHITTTTT, HOLY FUCK MEEEEE!” I scream out, filling the room. The plug in my ass shifts with each thrust, creating a delicious mix of pressure and pain that begins to make my head swim.

"Louder," he commands, slapping one of my breasts. "Let them hear what a real whore sounds like."

"Yes, yes, yes," I chant, meeting each thrust with my hips. “I’m going to cum!”

Then, without warning, he pulled out and leaned back on his knees and heels.

“What the fuck, why did you stop?” I ask breathlessly.

“I don’t give a shit if you're ready to cum, and I didn’t come here to cum in that nasty cunt. I came here to fuck your whore ass. Now get up and get on your hands and knees, face that mirror,” he slapped my ass to encourage me to start moving. “I want to see your face while I sodomize you.”

I scramble to obey, my legs are wobbly as I position myself on all fours. The mirror reflected my flushed face, lips parted and swollen, mascara slightly smudged, and my hair a bit of a tangled mess.

David crawls around the bed behind me, his hands caressing my ass cheeks, squeezing and spreading them apart to examine his prize. Electricity shoots up my spine as he taps the end of the plug.

"Look at yourself," he says, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back. He taps the plug again, "Look at what a desperate whore you are."

I meet my own gaze in the mirror as he continues to play with the plug, pushing it slightly deeper than pulling it back, twisting it in small circles. He was right, I do look like a desperate whore.

The rhythmic headboard banging from next door has returned. My mind wanders to what she is doing with him, how much she is charging him for the nasty things he is doing.

"Please," I whisper, pushing back against his hand.

"Please, what?" he asks, slapping my ass. The sting makes me jolt forward.

"Please fuck my ass," I beg, the words coming easier now. "Fuck my whore ass, please."

His fingers grip the base of the plug, slowly pulling it out. I feel my body resist, my ass gripping it. Then I feel my ass stretching again around the widest part, the sensation bordering on pain before it pops free.

The sudden emptiness makes me whimper.

I hear the click of a lid. I look in the mirror and watch him squeeze the lube bottle over my ass. The cool gel hits my open hole, and I feel it twitch. I let out a soft moan when I feel his fingers pressing the lube into my rectum.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispers, leaning over me, his hairy chest against my back. I feel two of his fingers moving easily in and out of me. "You little anal slut."

He leans back up, removing his fingers from my ass, but the emptiness is momentary as David positions his cock at my stretched entrance, the head pressing against my hole.

"Keep your eyes on the mirror," he orders. "I want you to see your face when I split you open. Now try and relax," he orders, one hand gripping my hip while the other guides his cock.

He pushes forward, the head of his cock breaching my stretched ring. The pressure is intense, more than the plug prepared me for. I watch as my face flinches, and I press my lips tight, trying not to cry out.

I close my eyes tightly, fighting the discomfort, but then there is a sharp pain in my scalp as his fingers grip my hair, pulling my head back.

“I said watch yourself as I fuck this skank ass.”

I open my eyes, looking at him in the mirror. It seems like he is enjoying taking my ass slowly, prolonging it.

Then he makes eye contact with me, and without warning, he slams the final inches into me, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

“HOLY FUCKING GOD!” I scream out, the sensation overwhelming, his thick cock stretching my ass.

I hear laughter from next door, followed by a muffled male voice, ”fuck that bitch, followed by more laughter.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groans, pulling back only to drive into me again with even more force.

“Fuck!” I cry out again.

"Take it all," he growls, gripping my hips and pulling me back onto him for a third brutal thrust.

My reflection pleads with desperate, wild eyes, my lips part in a silent scream before I manage to rasp. "Destroy me," I beg, voice breaking. "Ruin my filthy ass."

He is all too happy to oblige and starts to move in and out of me faster.

Each driving thrust pushes me further up the bed until I'm gripping the sheets at the edge for stability. The headboard is getting slammed hard with each of his powerful thrusts.

"Oh god," I gasp, my fingers clutching the bedspread so tightly my knuckles turn white.

"Feel that cock splitting you open, you filthy fucking whore?" David snarls, his fingers digging bruises into my hips as he pounds into me.

"YES!" I shriek, my voice raw and animal. "RUIN ME!"

He reaches around to grab my breast, pinching my nipple between his fingers. The sharp pain mingles with pleasure, making my pussy clench, hungry to be filled.

His thrusts grow more urgent. The slap of our skin against skin echoes through the room as he drives deeper into my ass. His breathing is getting shorter, faster breaths. His movements become less controlled and more desperate.

I can't form words anymore, just incoherent moans and whimpers as he uses me. In the mirror, I watch my face, eyes half-lidded, mouth hanging open. I look exactly like the whore I'm pretending to be, and the realization sends a fresh wave of arousal to my pussy.

The sounds from next door have quieted, making our performance the main attraction. David's rhythm falters slightly, becoming erratic and more forceful.

"Turn... around," he manages between thrusts.

I feel him withdraw suddenly, leaving me empty. I scramble to obey, twisting my body to face him.

"Open," he commands, one hand furiously working his cock, the other tearing off the condom.

I part my lips eagerly, extending my tongue. His face contorts, a strangled groan escaping him as the first hot jet of cum lands across my cheek and nose. The second splashes across my parted lips, some landing on my tongue. It tastes salty, bitter, and perfect. More spurts across my chin, my other cheek, even a few drops reaching my forehead. The warm, salty fluid drips down my face as I kneel on the bed in front of him.

"Fuck," he hisses, milking the final drops onto my waiting tongue.

I swallow what landed in my mouth, licking my lips to capture more. His cum feels warm on my skin, marking me as a thoroughly used whore.

"Fuck," he breathes out, slowly catches his breath, running a thumb across my cum-splattered cheek. "Look at you. Hey, wait, don't move," his voice hoarse as he reaches for his phone. The camera shutter sound clicks once, twice. "Perfect. My little cum-covered slut."

He tosses the phone aside and collapses beside me on the bed. I remain still, feeling his cum cooling on my skin, oddly proud of the mess he's made of me.

“How was I?” I ask, wiping up some of the cum on my cheek and licking it off my finger.

He laughs, "Worth every fucking penny."

I reach for tissues from the nightstand to clean my face, but he catches my wrist.

"Leave it," he says. "Wear it till I leave.”

From next door, we hear the water running. Destiny's client must be cleaning up. The mundane sound brings me partially back to reality.

We lie there in silence for a few minutes, the only sound is our breathing gradually returning to normal. David glances at his watch and sighs.

"Well, I guess my time's up," he says matter-of-factly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“You don’t have to leave, or I could go home with you.”

He stands up, reaching for his clothes lying on the floor. “Are you crazy? I'm not having some whore to my house to rip me off.”

He was really playing this out, and I wasn’t sure what to feel about it as I watched him tucking in his shirt and buckling his belt. As he slips his feet into his shoes, I finally move, reaching for the satin robe I'd brought specifically for this fantasy. I slip it on, the smooth, clean fabric a stark contrast to my sticky, sweaty skin.

David smiles at me and nods, checking his phone one last time before pocketing it. “See me out?” He asks as he moves toward the door, and I follow him, my legs still unsteady beneath me as I realize I am still wearing my heels. He opens the door, and I hold it as he steps into the hallway.

I step into the doorway and see Destiny leaning against her doorframe as her client turns to leave. He sees David, then me in my short satin robe, cum covering my face.

“Nice!” he says, patting David on the shoulder as he moves down the hallway.

I can feel my face burning as I look down, trying to avoid Destiny and David’s gazes.

David notices Destiny’s keen interest in me. "You've got real talent, for a new girl," he says to me, loud enough for Destiny to hear. "Might have to come back and have another go at you."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a fifty-dollar bill, pressing it into my palm. "A little something extra," he says with a wink. "For taking it up your ass like a pro."

My cheeks may turn red permanently with all of the embarrassment as I take the money.

"Thanks for the ride," he adds before turning to leave.

I stand there watching him go until he turns the corner. I hadn’t noticed Destiny moving closer to me.

"You’ll always remember your first night, honey," she says softly.

I duck back into my room, closing the door quickly behind me. My heart is racing as I lean against it, and the reality of what just happened fills my mind. I had played the prostitute role so well that a real whore thought I was a working girl. I smiled and moved to the bathroom to clean my face.

Three sharp knocks on my door startle me from my thoughts. I scramble out of the bathroom, sure that David had come back ready to stay the night with me, or better yet, take me back to his place to tie me up and ravish me again. I adjust the belt of my robe as I open the door to find Destiny standing in the hallway in jeans and t t-shirt.

"Can I come in?" she asks, before pushing past me into my room. I stand there holding the door open for a moment as she sits down in one of the table chairs.

I shut the door and turn to see her surveying my room, sex toys and lube lying about, porn on the TV, and a used condom sitting in the middle of the messy sheets.

"I'm not really…um, what can I help you with?” I ask, crossing my arms over my breasts in a lame attempt to add coverage to my body.

"I don't have another client for a while," she says, "you hungry? I’m always hungry around this time of night. Thought I would have myself a lunch break, care to join me?"

I look at her nervously, “I don’t think so, I really don’t have clothes for dinner or...”

"Honey, I won't take no for an answer," she interrupts, hands folded in her lap. "Get dressed in what you had on before. No one is going to give a shit about how you look where we’re going,” we watched each other for a moment. “This diner a few blocks from here makes the best damn pancakes you've ever tasted, and they serve 'em 24/7."

Something about her tone told me that she wouldn’t leave unless I agreed. So I found myself nodding and gathering the clothes I'd worn earlier from the floor.

"I'll wait outside while you get ready," she says, leaving to give me privacy. "But don't take too long. Mama needs some carbs."

Twenty minutes later, I'm sliding into a cracked vinyl booth across from Destiny in a 24-hour diner called Sal's. The fluorescent lighting is harsh, making everything and everyone look slightly sickly. My short skirt rides up my thighs as I sit, and I tug it down self-consciously.

It's nearly 11 PM, and apart from a truck driver nursing a coffee at the counter and a young strung-out couple in the far corner, we're the only customers. The waitress, a woman in her sixties with bottle-blonde hair and deep lines etched around her mouth from a decades-old smoking habit, approaches our table with a bored, tired expression.

"What'll it be?" not bothering with pleasantries as she pulls a notepad from her apron pocket.

"Coffee, black, and the short stack with extra butter," Destiny says without looking at the menu.

"Um, just coffee for me," I mumble, suddenly aware of how my voice sounds higher, younger than Destiny's husky tone.

The waitress nods and shuffles away without writing anything down.

"You should eat something," Destiny says, leaning back against the booth. "Replenish your energy."

I shift in my seat, "I'm fine."

Destiny studies me for a moment, "So, Jade,” her tone filled with question and skepticism. “You said you weren't a working girl, but you obviously just fucked a john." She leans forward, her elbows on the table. "You freelance or you got a manager?"

I choked on the air. "It's not like that—"

"Honey, I heard that man talking when he was paying you. I saw him hand you cash. I don’t give a shit, ain’t no judgment here, but don’t lie to me."

The waitress returns with our coffees, placing them on the table before walking away again without a word.

I wrap my hands around the mug, staring into the steam that rises from the dark liquid. "It really isn't what you think. I'm not... professional."

"Could've fooled me," she stirred sugar into her coffee. "That man seemed to leave pretty satisfied, and god, you had so much cum on your face."

“SHHHH! Will you stop talking so loudly?”

“Nobody in here gives a fuck, in a few hours all the street girls will be in here to meet their pim… managers, give 'em his cut before knocking off for the night.”

I take a deep breath. "It was roleplay. He's not really a client. He's...well, I’m not..I don't even know what he is to me." I said humbly.

"Ok, spill, I want to hear this," Destiny says, settling back into the booth.

I give her a long, hard look, studying her face and body language. She isn’t exactly what I thought a whore would be like. I mean, she was brash and crude, but also really nice. Here, dark brown eyes seemed full of compassion and wonder. I felt compelled to confide in her. Maybe it's the fact that she's a stranger whom I'll never see again, or maybe it's because she lives in a world I've been fantasizing about.

I opened my mouth to speak as her food came. I waited for the waitress to leave. "It started about a year ago," I begin, my voice low. I went on to tell her about my submissive tendencies. Exploring men and women in college, and finally joining the fetish website and meeting David. I continued to tell her about how our relationship developed and how he was able to pull my kinks and fantasies out of me through long conversations on the phone or in texting.

I told her about my first experience selling myself a few weeks ago in the motel across town, and how I'd spent the past three weeks obsessively reliving that night, how I'd come to the Sunset hoping to recapture that feeling.

The sound of the door opening, and two loud, drunk men enter the diner and fall into a booth near the door.

“So I was getting drunk and sent him the text, and the next thing I know, he is in my room helping me with my fantasy, paying me to use my butt.”

Destiny sat there mostly quiet, listening to my story. She had consumed her pancakes as I spoke. Now I was done talking and sat looking at her as she remained quiet, wiping the syrup away from her lips. She taps her nails against the empty coffee mug, her eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes me shift in my seat.

"So, honey," she says, leaning in closer, "what's your real name? Because 'Jade' ain't cutting it for a white girl." She chuckles and shakes her head. "That's the kind of name you'd use if you were working Chinatown or somethin’. No, john is gonna believe that shit."

I hesitate for a moment, then figure there's no harm in telling her. "Kaylee."

Her face breaks into a wide grin. "Now that," she says, pointing a long purple nail at me, "is a fucking perfect hooker name… Kaylee." She lets it roll off her tongue. "Sounds innocent and just a little trashy at the same time. Men eat that shit up."

“You think? I always thought it sounded too... I don't know, cheerleaderish."

"Exactly! Ain’t all those cheerleaders sluts, anyway?" Destiny exclaims, slapping the table. "That's the fantasy, baby girl. johns want that good girl cheerleader who's gone bad spreading her cunt for all them football boys.” She winks at me.

We're both started laughing, and it feels somehow normal for me to sit here and just chat with a hooker, despite the absurdity of discussing the marketability of my name for sex work with an actual prostitute in a dirty diner at midnight.

The waitress approaches our table again, notepad in hand. She looks even more exhausted than before, if that's possible. I can see she's just taken the order from the two drunk guys.

"You two want anything else?" she asks, her voice flat and disinterested. "More coffee? Dessert?"

Destiny looks at me questioningly. "You sure you don't want something to eat, Kaylee?”

Thinking about it for a second, I realize I am kind of hungry. "Maybe just some pie and a refill of my coffee?" I say to the waitress.

"And another coffee for me," Destiny adds. "And bring my girl here some water too. She needs to stay hydrated."

The waitress jots it down without comment and shuffles away, unfazed by Destiny's innuendo.

"So, Kaylee," Destiny says, emphasizing my real name with a smile. "What happens now? You go back to your regular college girl life tomorrow and just... what? Wait for this David guy to text you again in another three weeks?"

I looked into my coffee, not knowing how to answer her.

“This David guy. You think he's gonna keep playing these games with you? Because, honey, from what I've seen, men like that get bored and move on to the next slut waiting to suck their dicks."

"I don't know. Maybe." I look up at her. "I guess I haven't really thought about it.” It was a lie. I had thought a lot about it. There were so many other things I wanted to try beyond the prostitution fantasies. I often wondered if he was the right guy for it, or if he would like her, just said Get bored with me. Then where would I be?

The waitress returns, coffee pot in one hand, a large slice of apple pie in the other. She sets it down in front of me, the scent of cinnamon and warm pastry wafting up from the plate. I pick up my fork and take a tentative bite, surprised by the burst of flavor. "Oh my god, this is really good."

Destiny laughs. "Told you this place has its perks. Don't let the ambiance fool you."

I took another bite as Destiny watched me, her head tilted slightly. "So what are you going to school for anyway?"

"Accounting," I answer, scooping up another forkful. "Senior year. I graduate in May."

Destiny laughs, "Accounting? Girl, now I see why you role-play the excitement of my life! Accounting has got to be so boring."

"It's not boring,” I said defensively. It's... reliable. Safe. Everything has a place, and everything balances. There's order to it."

"And then what? Got some fancy job all lined up?"

I shrug, suddenly feeling the weight of an uncertain future. "Grad school, maybe? I don't know. Everyone expects me to have it all figured out, but..."

"But instead you're getting your ass pounded in seedy motels," Destiny said with a smirk.

I nearly choked on my pie, glancing around to see if anyone heard as I took a sip of water to clear my throat.

"Listen," Destiny says, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “You ever thought about doing this for real? Not full-time or anything, but weekends, summers between semesters?" She takes a sip of her coffee. "You know, you could make serious bank doing weekend work. The kind of money that would clear those student loans before you even finish your grad school.”

My arm freezes with my fork halfway to my mouth, the pie threatening to fall off. "You're serious?"

"You've got the look, the body. And clearly," she gestured in the direction of the motel, "you've got the appetite for it.”

"But that was just fantasy," I protest weakly, even as chills run through me, the back of my mind contemplating her suggestion, hoping I’m hiding any excitement I might be feeling from her.

"You know what I think?" Destiny leaned back, studying me. "I think you're addicted to the thrill more than the sex. The fantasy of being used, of being in danger, that's what gets you wet."

I continue poking at my pie, unable to look at her because she's right. So right, it's terrifying. I was trying to re-engage my mind. I needed to get up and leave this place, jump in my car, and go home, but I was stuck to the vinyl seat staring at the pie.

"You don't have to be embarrassed, girl," Destiny continues, reaching across the table to pat my hand. "We all got our reasons. Some of us do it for the money, some for the thrill, some 'cause we don't know what else to do." She pauses. “You’d be doing it 'cause you need to feel something your spreadsheets can't give you."

"Listen," she says, her voice quieter for the first time. "I could introduce you to my manager. Real professional, not like these street pimps slapping girls around or that abusive pimp shit you see in the movies. He takes care of us, protects, has good clients, and takes care of business.”

My head snaps up, my rational mind fighting to take control. "What? No, I couldn't."

"Just meet him. No commitment." She pulls out her phone.

"Wait, now? Tonight?" I glance at the clock on the wall, and it's nearly 1 AM.

"He's probably still up. He’s always working. "This business doesn't exactly keep banker's hours, honey." She said, already typing on her phone.

As if on cue, my phone vibrates in my purse. I was shocked for a moment, wondering how Destiny just texted me. I pull it out, and I am relieved when I see a text from David: "Left something in your room. Will be back in about thirty minutes or so."

This was a perfectly timed way out of this situation. “Hey, looks like my friend forgot something,” I said, pushing the plate away from me and getting some cash from my purse. “I have to go. It was really nice getting to know you.”

I drop a twenty on the table and slide out of the booth.

Destiny grabs my wrist as I try to slide past her. "Whoa, whoa, hold up. Are you running from this conversation?"

"I don't know–"

She looked at her phone. "Shit, I've got a regular in thirty minutes. Businessman who likes to get his dick sucked before going home to his wife."

I look at the clock on the wall, 1:15 AM. "At this hour?"

"Late flight," she explains, already gathering her purse.

"That is why I’m at the Sunset tonight. It’s not far from the airport, and on his way home, I guess.” She drops some cash on the table. "Come on, I'll walk you back to the motel."

Outside, the night air is cool against my skin after the stuffy diner. We walk in silence for half a block before Destiny's phone vibrates again. She checks it, then looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, well. Sam wants to know if you're available in about an hour. Says he'd like to meet you, see if you're a good fit for his operation."

My stomach drops. "Tonight? No, I can't…"

"Just a meeting," she says, waving dismissively. "He's not expecting you to start turning tricks tonight."

"I'm not, I can't," I stammer, suddenly feeling like I've stepped into quicksand. This was supposed to be fantasy, not reality. "I have to go. David's coming back."