Chapter 7: Successful Business versus Good Business

Samantha took a deep breath before knocking on the door of the downtown hotel room. This was her second appointment with a client this evening and her final one until early tomorrow evening. A few hours ago, she made sweet love to a client she had known for nearly a decade. The encounter wasn’t earth-shattering, but it was pleasant, and she left her client happy, with a content smile on his face and a flaccid cock.

The hotel room opened, and a smallish, brown man in his late 40s opened the door, pleasantly saying, “Hello, Samantha. So good to see you again. It’s been ages.” However, he gave a lukewarm smile, not the warm, friendly greeting she regularly received from most of her highest-paying clients. She walked a few steps, and as he closed the door behind her, he turned to her to give a nice but insincere hug. They didn’t even kiss.

“So good to see you, too, Ashok. Yes, it has been quite a while.” She thought for a quick moment and realized she hadn’t been with him since before she met Lennie, and since then, her life changed for the better.

“Was it April the last time we were together? If I remember, the NCAA Final Four championship game was playing in the background.”

“Always the mind with a steel trap,” he chuckled, again with no sincerity. “Yes, that’s right. It was early April. Why have you not been available, dear?”

She knew her client, Ashok Kumar, a naturalized Indian who, after attending Harvard in Boston, relocated to Silicon Valley and founded what has now grown to be a ten-billion-dollar software company. She had no intention of telling him any real reason for the absence, the new man who was now the center of her life.

Ashok wasn’t very sociable; he had been a nerd all his life. Nerd was okay. Samantha was used to nerds. Most were harmless and socially awkward, but were kind or at least civilized. Now worth billions, he didn’t want to acquire social skills in his middle age. After all, now he could buy the finest women to carry out his darkest, dirtiest thoughts. Samantha had some idea what was about to happen, as he had been a client for years. It wasn’t going to be pleasant, but there wouldn’t be any permanent damage or rules broken. Not all clients were charming or even likable, like Ashok.

“Just busy, baby. You know me. So, where is the bathroom? Let me go and change into my lingerie for you.”

“It’s right over there,” he said, pointing to the small hallway in the suite. She got up, grabbed her large tote bag, and walked in to change and prepare herself. A fat white envelope lay near the sink, in plain view. Ashok didn’t like to pay by credit card or bank transfer, like most of the clients. He seemed to enjoy paying cash, it made the transaction more sinister in some way. She picked it up and counted eighty bills of the same one-hundred-dollar denomination.

Another five-digit night, you go, girl, she thought to herself as if it were a pep talk before a sporting event. She shoved it in the inner zipped pocket with the earlier envelope and zipped it shut. But then she had another thought. The tip was double what it usually was. That meant only one thing: she would earn that extra two thousand by working hard for it. She closed her eyes briefly to clear her mind in anticipation of the upcoming unpleasant encounter.

In about ten minutes, the costume change was complete. She took another deep breath, opened the door, and walked out of the bathroom. She knew exactly what to expect with Ashok.

He looked up to see her in the dark-red, see-through demi-bra with small bows tied above her areolas to hide them. Otherwise, the demi-bra completely failed to cover her perfect breasts. The matching stockings and garter hugged her sexy body with grace. Her tiny panties were over the top of the garter belts, holding up the stockings for easy removal. It was easy to see her landing strip through them, as well as the top part of the lovely, symmetric lips of her pussy. She walked up to be in front of him, sitting on a large chair, for inspection.

“How do you like this, Ashok?” He stared but didn’t smile and said nothing. His stare rapidly turned into more of a glare, and an unfriendly one at that.

He held out his hand, and she walked to it to be touched. He pulled her in and turned her around to plop her nearly naked body down on his lap. With his other hand, he roughly grabbed her breast, fondling it mercilessly, like a drunken sailor in a bordello on shore leave. He began speaking in a new tone that was very different from the one he used just minutes ago.

“Give me these tits, bitch,” he growled as he roughly fondled the left one with his right hand. He pulled one of the demi-cups aside and, baring her nipple, said, “Your fucking tits, these motherfucking tits. I love playing with these tits. You fucking whore, you love it when a man fondles these whore tits, don’t you?” he said with a new meanness in his voice. His demeanor had completely changed. This new man was cold and unforgiving.

“I said,” he paused, still callously mauling her boobs, growling, “you love it when a man fondles these whore tits, don’t you?” This time, his voice was a bit louder and more intimidating.

“Yes, yes, I love it when a man fondles my whore tits,” Samantha said, with a tiny streak of fake submission in her voice.

“Yeah, bitch, you fucking whore. You love to suck dick, don’t you, whore?” He didn’t wait for an answer, continuing with, “I said, whore, you love to suck dick, don’t you, whore? Big dicks, small dicks, fat dicks, tiny dicks, white dicks, Black dicks, Asian dicks, Latino dicks—it doesn’t matter, or does it? You’ll suck any dick, like my brown Indian dick, as long as someone throws you money, isn’t that right, whore?” His voice was darker, meaner, and even sinister.

“Yes, yes, I love to suck dick. I’m a whore.”

“A whore? A whore? No, bitch, you are not just a whore. You are a nasty, dirty, slutty fucking whore. Tell me what you are, bitch.” He grabbed her tit hard and uncomfortably squeezed it, and then pinched her nipple.

“I’m a whore, a nasty fucking whore,” she moaned submissively, her answer leaving out some of his words on purpose to show him he wasn’t fully in charge. “I love to suck dick, any dick. I’m a slut, a fucking slut.” She got off his lap and spun around to her knees, kneeling down between his spread legs.

“Get these fucking pants off me, whore. Get my socks and shoes off, bitch.” She responded like a geisha, silent and quickly responsive to the order. He was naked in seconds. Samantha was efficient at her job. After stripping her client, she returned to her knees in front of him as he sat in the chair. She looked into his eyes. There was no warmth or anticipation in them, only a hollow stare. He grabbed her hair from the top of her head and pulled her down within inches of his cock.

“There you go, bitch. A cock. A motherfucking cock for you to suck like the whore you are. Look at that cock, bitch. Look at my cock. It’s magnificent, isn’t it? Do you like my cock, whore? Well, do you?” The tone was degrading now. Samantha knew her encounter with him was going exactly how he wanted it to go. Nothing unexpected so far.

“Oh, baby, I love your cock. It’s a great-looking cock,” she moaned. For once, she didn’t have to act because it was true. Seven and one-half inches of a symmetrical penis, uncircumcised and perfectly proportioned. The head was smooth and helmet-like. When the foreskin was pulled back, the flare of the crown tapered slightly smaller as the cock got closer to his body. For some women, it might even be a bit too big, but for a woman who has taken literally thousands of cocks in her body over the two-plus decades that cocks have been entering her body, it was indeed a perfect specimen.

“Get that cock down your throat, bitch,” he grumbled. “I said, ‘Suck it,’ you fucking whore.” She pushed the helmet in her mouth and quickly dived down, taking half of it on the first plunge, getting it wet with spit, and then shoving it all the way down her gullet, a perfect deep throat.

“Yeah, cunt, that’s it! Take it, bitch, swallow it whole, just like that!” The sensation was so great that he stopped talking and moaned. Samantha held the cock deep in her mouth and started swirling her tongue on the underside of the shaft, where most of the nerve endings were located. His forceful, angry moves caused tears to drip down her cheeks, smearing her carefully applied makeup.

“Oh yeah, bitch, just like that! Goddammit! You are the best cocksucking whore on the planet! Gag on that cock, bitch!” He moaned as he forcefully held her head down on his stiff unit.

Samantha started sliding the cock in and out of her mouth. “Glug-glug-glug-glug,” she moaned. The deep throat blowjob was indeed world-class, and after a while, he forcefully pulled her hair hard to pull her mouth off of his dick before he shot his wad.

“Say it! Tell me that you like to sell your cunt for money! Say it! Say it, bitch, now!” Ashok was getting out of control, working himself into a frenzy, repeating the nasty phrase again and again.

“I like to sell my pussy for money!” Samantha finally screamed, mostly to get him under control again.

“Of course you do, skank! You fucking bitch! Do you think that you are going to get off that easy, whore? No, bitch, stand up!” He pulled her head as high as he could while sitting down. She completed the action, and with her hair free of his grip, she stood up before him.

“Look at this beautiful body. Look at this beautiful face,” he growled as he grabbed her face to pull it to a wall mirror so she could see herself.

“A man could appreciate this gorgeous body of yours, a successful man, a man of means. But no, you aren’t a woman of class; you are nothing more than a nasty whore that sucks and fucks cock for money. You show off this beautiful body to any man who tosses money at you. Such a beautiful female, such promise,” he spat, shaking his head, “yet, such a waste of a fine specimen. You aren’t worth a relationship; you are nothing more than a cum dump, a fuck pig,” he growled.

She shuddered at the meanness, yet could take the slander because she was used to it with him. It was getting worse with every interaction however. The disrespect, the degradation of his words. She rationalized that there were whores elsewhere on the street who were going through far worse with their johns and for a lot less money than she was. Sam knew from her prior experience to accept any man as long as they didn’t break the rules of no blood, no scat, and no hard beatings. Assholes weren’t limited to Ashok; there were a few others, if one really wanted to know. But Ashok was, if not the worst, close to being one of them.

“Turn around, whore.” Samantha turned her naked body around to show him her nude backside. “Now, bend over at the waist.”

She followed the instructions.

“That’s it, skank. Now, pull those ass cheeks open. Show me your holes.”

Samantha pulled her tight buns apart. Her tightly closed asshole and her beautiful pussy were open and available, giving him what he wanted. She held the degrading pose for at least three full minutes as his hand drifted to them. He roughly slid a finger into her pussy, then a second, then a third. His fingers harshly poked her femininity without passion, only disgust. He continued, and now he was pushing a finger into her butthole again, without any mercy. After a half-dozen plunges into her butt, he changed to pushing a finger into her ass while pushing two fingers of the same hand into her pussy.

“Two in the pink, and one in the stink,” he moaned. “Just like a whore likes it. Isn’t that right, whore?”

“Oh yeah, oh yeah,” she fake-groaned at the vile man. Most women would have already left the degrading scene, but not Samantha; she was a professional. The act was uncomfortable and demeaning, but she kept up her part in the sexual charade. “Poke my holes, baby, use my holes.”

“Now turn around and get on your hands and knees, bitch. You need a good fucking.” As her knees hit the carpet, he got up, and with his massive hard-on, he aligned himself to her pussy and slammed it in.

“Ugh,” Sam moaned. One hard push sank his cock deep inside her. Her pussy was soaking wet after Ashok’s manipulation, so it didn’t hurt when he slammed his cock inside her. A small part of Samantha enjoyed the degradation some of her clients subjected her to. It turned her on in that portion of her brain where darkness simmered. He began to pound her pussy as hard as he could.

“You fucking whore! You’re nothing but a fuck pig, bitch! Take my dick, bitch! You piece of shit whore! Take it, goddammit, take it!” He continued to slap his balls on her ass as he pounded her pussy as roughly as he could. He would slap her bare ass with his open palm. Back and forth, cheek to cheek, as red hand marks started appearing on her beautiful bum. For a few seconds, her mind wandered back to her early days, the Dwayne days, when being abused was more the rule than the exception.

SLAPWHACKSMACK

The sounds were loud, and she felt her butt cheeks burning.

“Oh, you fucking bitch! You want me to come in your pussy, don’t you, bitch?” The merciless pussy-pounding and ass cheek slapping continued.

“No, bitch, you aren’t going to get off that easy. Reach back and pull your cheeks apart again.” She was getting into the hard pounding and wasn’t listening to him. The sex was rough, but once in a while, she actually liked it. To enjoy it, she had to turn off her brain and be nothing but a piece of meat for her john.

“I said, fucking PULL YOUR BUTT CHEEKS APART, BITCH!” He was now commanding her to perform new sex acts. She realized he was talking and pulled the buns apart, exposing her asshole. He pulled out of her pussy and shoved his wet dick into her bung.

“Ohh!” she groaned again. Used to being ass-fucked, her butt ring gave way relatively easily to allow the intruder to enter. He hit bottom again on a half-entry with the first stroke and completely with the second. His balls bounced on her pussy as he viciously stroked his cock in and out of her ass. The climax didn’t take long. He groaned mightily as he blasted his load deep into her ass. After finishing, he collapsed on top of her, his still-stiff dick deep in her stink.

After a minute or so, he moved off of her and sat up on the floor.

“Lick my cock clean, whore. Taste your ass on my dick. You like to eat your own shit, don’t you, whore?” His nastiness was only partially sated after he came. He pulled her head by her hair again and pulled her face above his softening, wet cock.