Chapter 1

I had just gotten back to my hotel room and taken off my jacket and tie, planning on laying down and resting for a bit before going to dinner. I was in town for business and it had been a long day. You see I am the manager of a large hotel chain with hotels all over the country. My job is to go around to the different hotels and check out how they are doing and what improvements I can suggest they make.

But to do this without anyone becoming suspicious, I do it under the guise of a typical business traveler or tourist and do not announce who I am. This way they don’t treat me any different than any other customer and I get a fairer idea of how they do things.

It had been a busy day and I was glad to be back in my temporary home for the evening. The plan now was to rest for an hour or so then go downstairs to dinner in the hotel restaurant and then a shower and bed. I had more meetings the following day so I wanted to be rested.

I kicked off my shoes and was just about to lay down when suddenly there was a knock on the hotel room door. I thought it was housekeeping, bringing me the extra pillow and towels I had requested when I came back through the hotel lobby a few minutes ago.

I opened the door expecting to see one of the maids, but instead, I was greeted by a very attractive young woman in her early twenties I guess. She was about five foot six inches tall or would be if it weren’t for her six-inch stiletto heels, with long blonde hair that cascaded down her back like a silvery waterfall to the small of her back.

She had a killer figure only enhanced by the painted on, strapless pink stretch-knit dress that was so short she may as well not be wearing anything. I swear that dress clung so tightly to her that I could make out her freckles under it!

I didn’t have much of a chance to gawk at my beautiful visitor, however. As quickly as I opened the door, I heard an “Oh thank God!” as she rushed past me and around the corner of the short entry into the main living room.

Puzzled and more than a little alarmed at this beautiful intrusion, I shut the door, locking it this time, and went to see what was going on.

“Oh thank you for answering the door, mister. I was watching as you came out of the elevator and came to your room. I was praying that you would open the door. The hotel security is after me and wants to throw me out. Can I hide out here until he gives up and goes back to his office, please?”

“What? I don’t understand. Why are you hiding from security?”

“Because they don’t allow prostitutes in the building.”

“You’re a...?”

“Yeah, I’m a prostitute, a hooker, a lady of the evening, whatever you want to call it. I’m a whore.”

Now I have traveled all over the country and been to just about every major city and many smaller cities in my hotel inspections, and I have seen many, many streetwalkers and prostitutes in my day. But I have never seen ANYTHING that looked as drop-dead gorgeous as what stood in my room now. If she had told me she was a movie star, a porn queen, or some rich man’s arm candy, it might have been easier to believe. But she didn’t look like any street whore I’d ever seen!

“I would love to help you out, sweetheart – believe me, I would really love to help you – but I can’t. I don’t ... um ... I can’t afford...” I said. I was sure that something this fine had to have a hefty price tag attached to it. I certainly wasn’t looking at one of those back-alley, dollar-a-holler girls!

She smiled. “I’ll tell you what, mister. If you hide me and don’t let security get me, we might could work out a deal. You help me and I’ll help you. How’s that sound?” she winked at me.

“A deal?” I asked, wanting more information on this so-called deal.

“Sure. You see, if security catches me, they will hold me for the cops. And if the cops get me, they will put me in lockup until my court case comes up. I won’t be able to earn any money locked up. Even whores have bills, you know. Rent, utilities, and so on. And since I’ve already been caught twice before, this will be my third time and in this state, they have the ‘three strikes law’. I will go away for at least a year. I will lose everything.”

“I see.”

“Please say you will help me. Please, please ... I can’t go to jail, I just can’t!” This strange woman suddenly came up to me, putting her arms around me and her hands up on my shoulder blades. She laid her head on my chest and clung to me like a little girl who didn’t want to go someplace. I was at a loss what to do with my hands for a moment but then I wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

“All right you can stay here until security is gone.” The words came out of my mouth before I even realized I had said them. But I couldn’t pull them back now.

“Really? Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!” she said looking up at me. She kissed me on the cheek, then giggled when she saw she left a lipstick smudge there.

“So what do I call you? I mean ‘Beautiful’ certainly fits, but I’m pretty sure you have a name.”

“Kimberly ... Kim. That’s my name.” she said blushing at my compliment. “What’s yours?”

“Mark.”

“Well it is very nice to meet you, Mark,” she said with a smile that could warm any man’s heart.

I looked over at the alarm clock on the nightstand between the two queen beds. “Kim, I was just going to go downstairs and grab some dinner. Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I haven’t. I don’t usually eat much when I’m working. No time to stop to eat, you know.”

“Well, you have time tonight. Let’s go get something to eat.”

I offered her my arm and she smiled. “Thank you, Mark.” I think she appreciated being treated like a person instead of an object or a tool. We walked out of the hotel room, making sure it locked behind us and then down the hall to the elevator.

Once we were safely in the elevator and the door had closed, Kim came up to me lightly pushing me against the wall of the elevator and kissed me. Hard and deep, too. Her lips parted and I took the invitation to push my tongue into her mouth. She began sucking on it like a little cock – a precursor, I would find out, to later activities. We kissed for a good minute I guess before she pulled back.

“Wow, what was THAT for?”

“Just to thank you for being my hero tonight. There’s more ‘thanking’ to be done later too!” she said with a playful grin. Just then the elevator door opened and we found ourselves on the ground floor.

We walked arm in arm again to the restaurant and the hostess showed us to a table in a quiet corner. There wasn’t anyone within earshot of us so we could talk fairly freely, although we still watched what we said because we didn’t want anyone to catch on that Kim was a “working girl”.

“So Kim, how long have you been doing this type of work?” I asked.

She caught on right away to what I was doing. “Well I started when I was 16 years old, I guess. I had run away from home – I didn’t have the best home life anyway. And I lived on the street, begging for money to eat and sometimes stealing food. I didn’t do drugs or anything ... I didn’t have the money or the interest. I never have done drugs except for a little pot a few times. It’s not good for someone in my profession to be out of it, you know!

Anyway, I lived on the streets for about a year before I turned my first trick. I had to – begging for money wasn’t cutting it anymore and I couldn’t just keep stealing food. The first time I did it I cried the whole time. The guy was nice enough I guess – he knew it was my first time at it. I wasn’t a virgin, of course, just new to the work.”

“I see. If you don’t mind, what do you mean you didn’t have the best home life?”

“My father was a drunk and did things to me, sexually. And my mother was usually too wiped out on her Prozac and Vodka to even know what was going on around her. I was practically raising myself anyway, so I moved out.”

“Oh Kim, I’m so sorry,” I said, taking her hand.

“It’s okay ... it is what it is. I’ve gotten past it and I survived. Besides, I make a pretty good living doing it, much better than I could having a regular job. I never finished school, and I don’t even have a G.E.D. so about the only thing I could do is wait tables or be a stripper. And I make more than either of those. Plus, mine is a tax-free income so I don’t have to worry about deductions, filing my taxes at the end of the year, or any of that. Everything I make is mine to keep except for a small portion that goes to John.”

“John?”

“Yeah, John is my ... guardian. He makes sure that I stay safe and that no one tries anything funny with me. When I go on a date, we set up what I will do and what I won’t do. If my date tries to go further than we agree or doesn’t want to pay, John is there to straighten things out. And if any guy wants to try for a freebie, he will show them the wisdom of paying for it.”

“So he’s your ... pimp?” I asked curiously.

“Well, no, not really. You see, pimps set up the dates as well as collect a portion of the money from them. Pimps are also very mean and abusive. There aren’t very many pimps any more – most of us girls have done away with them and we make our own arrangements. No, John is more like my protection. I pay him a small fee for his services – much less than a pimp would take. Plus we are good friends too. Most pimps weren’t your friends, although at first, that’s what they wanted you to think.”

“Oh, I see. Just out of curiosity, what does a ‘date’ with you normally cost?”