George
My day had been dreadful. My head wasn’t in it and I may as well have not showed up. All I was thinking throughout the day was wondering what the hell I was doing, whether this plan would work or should I just leave it. I was excited though, and anxious, I had butterflies like I did when I was in the playground at school and a girl would come up to me. I hadn’t felt like this in so long, which is why such a big part of me was wanting to reject it like it was a virus.
I got back to my apartment, pulled up a chair in front of the panoramic window over the glistening lights of the city as the sun started to set, and poured myself a glass of whisky to settle my nerves.
I picked up the phone.
“Hello,” said a hesitant voice.
I hated phone calls, but I wanted to sound confident with this one.
“Hello, Sophie.”
“So all this was you? I thought that it must have been you,” she said, still sounding cautious.
“Tell me your story,” I replied. I wanted to know... for some reason I just had to.
“I thought you paid for my body, not my story.” Her reply annoyed me. It was as though she was playing games, and as far as I was concerned she was in no position to do so.
“Considering you’re sat in a warm hotel room with a glass of wine, £2,000 pounds in your pocket and new clothes on your back, I think it’s quite clear that I’m paying for both.” I wanted to make clear that she was to do what I asked.
“How do you know I’m in the hotel room with a glass of wine?”
Well I knew people, and it was one of those hotel minibars that could detect when something was removed—I wanted to know that I was in control of her life, it turned me on.
“The same reason that I could have you back out on the streets in five minutes. How did you end up on the streets?” I was getting quite confrontational, which wasn’t the vibe I was going for, so wanted to bring it back to what I wanted to know.
She told me her story, and I regretted asking. It pulled me in, it made me feel sorry for her and it made me want to protect her. She told me about how her father died when she was young, she told me how her mother turned to alcohol and barely looked after her. She told me how her mother found her knight in shining armour over the internet, who was going to take care of them. She told me how she had to leave her friends and her old life behind, and how this knight turned out to be a devil of a man, who convinced her mother that Sophie was a burden on them. She told me how she’d missed out on education and work to try and look after her mother, and got repaid by being thrown out onto the streets with no protest from her.
By the end of the conversation Sophie was in tears, and I was trying my best to keep my composure. I gave my apologies for her horrific life and I was pleased that she had a roof over her head for the night. I was trying to find a way to bring the conversation back to normality, but Sophie decided to do that for me.
“So why am I here?” she said, clearly still upset, but now in control of her tears.
I was thinking of making sure she was alright, but I decided to get to the point. “I was thinking that we should have a mutually beneficial arrangement,” I said, trying to sugar-coat my intentions.
“You’re letting me stay in a hotel so you can sleep with me whenever you want?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
It was a simple verbal agreement that we both seemed to be happy with. I told her that the hotel was booked for seven nights, and once they were done that would probably be it. She could use the money to set herself up the best way she could before she left my life. I thought that a week of having sex the way I wanted it would be a great use of my money.
“There’s more,” I said. I wasn’t sure whether to go through this now, or later, but I thought I’d get it out of the way. “Do you know what BDSM is?”
“Yeah, I know what it is.”
“Have you ever tried it?”
“I’ve never really tried anything,” was her answer. I didn’t really want that; I’d prefer if she was comfortable with the subject rather than a novice, as I didn’t want to have to explain myself.
I laid it out there. “With me you’d be taking the role of the submissive, and all that entails. You will wear what I want you to wear and do what I want you to do. If you have any problem with that, I’ll let you stay one more night at the hotel then I’ll leave you alone. Do you understand?”
She was nervous. “No... I mean yes. I mean I’m not sure exactly what you want me to do but I’ll try it... are you coming to the hotel tonight?”
“No, you’ll be coming to me. Tomorrow will be the first time. I will message you at some point tomorrow with further instructions. Enjoy your wine.” I hung up the phone.
I’m sure this is what I wanted. A beautiful girl who would be able to fulfil my desires without protest, and someone who had far too much to lose to let anyone else know. It was the perfect arrangement. After a week I would have got my sexual thrills and I could leave her knowing that she would probably be alright. I was excited about the next day.