Chapter 7

Harry's call came at ten o'clock. "Great speech Suze. Pardon me if I don't get all choked up and beg you to forgive me. I'll be by to get you at five. Don't bother to dress - I'll have what you will be wearing with me."

As she put down the phone Susan wondered, and not for the first time, if just putting a gun to Harry's head and pulling the trigger wouldn't be better in the long run. The only reason she had bowed to Harry's blackmail threats didn't seem to matter any more. She had done it to protect her marriage, her way of life, and Barry's career. Her marriage was shot - she and Barry didn't even talk anymore and when they did he treated her like a whore. Her way of life? All that was anymore was being on her back with her legs spread for whomever Harry lined her up with. And Barry's career - his precious career - that's all he cared about; he didn't give a shit for her. Well, on the plus side, she thought, there are only two more tapes to go and she would be free of Harry.

All she was wearing when Harry picked her up were flats and a pullover dress. She was curious about what she would be wearing tonight. She remembered the night he'd had her wear a schoolgirl's uniform, complete with textbooks, and how she had finished that night - fucking Harry. It didn't make sense to her; he was a blackmailing asshole, but she enjoyed fucking him. She wondered if maybe, deep down inside, she had a need to be controlled. It would certainly explain her liking for Harry's cock. As she settled into the limo's seat Harry handed her a box. It contained a see-through blouse, a micro mini skirt and a pair of fishnet stockings.

"What? No bra? No panties?"

"Just put them on Suze. You'll understand when we get were we are going."

Susan stripped off her dress and put on the skimpy outfit. Harry nodded, "Just the right look Suze. You should do well tonight. Here - put these on" and he tossed her a pair of calf-high boots with four-inch spike heels. "Here we are" said Harry, "give me your purse."

Susan passed him her purse as she looked out the window. The surprise on her face was evident and Harry chuckled, "That's right Suze. Prostitute Alley. Tonight you become a professional."

Susan turned and saw Harry taking all of her money and credit cards out of her purse. Harry caught her glance and smiled at her, "Just keeping things honest Suze, I don't want you to have access to an ATM or have any cash on you. Tonight we are going to play a game called The Pimp and His Bitch and I'm sure you already know who has the starring rolls. The way this works is that I put you out on the street and you make money by selling yourself. The going rate on the street is fifty bucks for a blowjob, eighty-five for a straight fuck. You can try for more, but the rates I've given you have been in play for over two years and holding out for more can cost you customers and you need to give me five hundred dollars for the next tape and you have to get it tonight. If you don't come up with it tonight, tomorrow you go into a house where you will take on all comers for twenty dollars a pop until you come up with a thousand. Understand?"

Susan looked at him with pure hatred, "I'll get you for this Harry. God as my witness I'll get you!"

"Sure Suze, sure you will. I've already seen to it that you won't be hassled for being on anybody else's turf, but any freelancers out there are your problem. Here!' and he tossed her something.

"What is it?"

"A can of mace - you can't say I don't have your welfare at heart."

He opened the door for her and reluctantly, very reluctantly, she left the safety of the limo and stepped out onto the street. "Good hunting" she heard as the door closed and the limo pulled away.

Susan stood on the street corner and wondered what she had to do next. Was there any way she could get out of this? She searched her purse and found enough change to make a phone call; she would call Barry and have him come get her and they would use Barry's ATM card to get the money she needed. She walked two blocks before finding a phone booth; she shifted nervously from one foot to the next while her home phone rang and her heart sunk when Barry did not answer - she got the answering machine. She left a message telling him where she was and what she needed and hoped he would get it in time. As she hung up the phone a voice behind her said, "Hey sweetie - are you looking for a date?" She turned and saw a car idling next to the curb with the passenger window down. Could she count on Barry or should she start trying to earn the money? She laughed to herself, counting on Barry these days was a losing money proposition. She walked to the car and bent down to look in the window. The driver was a fairly decent looking middle-aged man, a bit over weight, but certainly not repulsive.

"What did you have in mind" rolled right off her tongue as if she had been doing this for years. Inwardly she smiled at herself, "You are a natural at this - maybe after all these years you have found your true calling."

"Something my wife won't give me," said the man, "I want a blow job!"

Susan thought quickly, fifty dollars was the going rate, could she improve on it? "The going rate is fifty, but for seventy-five I swallow it all."

The man gave her a big smile, "Sweetheart - you have yourself a deal. Get in."

The customer, she found out his name was Herb, drove down the street and pulled in behind a building. "Time is money," Susan thought, and she went right for his fly. As her mouth closed around the head of his cock she was doing the math, seventy-five down - four hundred twenty-five to go. From a business standpoint Herb was the perfect customer; he came quickly, paid her, thanked her and told her he would look for her the next time he was in the area, and drove her back to her corner. It was half an hour before she got her next customer and this one wasn't quite as nice as Herb. He wanted a straight fuck and she told him eighty-five dollars and he pays for the room.

"Fuck the room. We got my back seat."

He pulled in behind the same building that Herb had parked behind and he lost no time in getting between her legs. He was rough with her, pounded at her pussy until he came and then told her to get out of his car. She put out her hand for her money and he slapped it away while laughing at her. "You stupid cunt. Don't you know enough to get the money up front? Get out of the car!"

Susan did not move; "Give me my money" she demanded. "Or what? You going to call the police? Get out!"

Susan got out of the car and cursed herself for being so stupid as the car drove away. She walked back to the corner.

Over the next four hours she gave three blowjobs, one to a man who had been drinking heavily and who took forever to get off. "Damn it!" she thought, "I've got to get back out there. I've still got to get another two-fifty. It was getting late and the streets were pretty deserted. It was an hour before her next customer, a straight fuck in the back seat of his car for seventy-five dollars and it was the hardest money she had ever earned. He was fat, had bad breath and a severe case of body odor, and he slobbered, actually slobbered over her. As he drove away she wondered if she would ever be able to forget his stink. Almost immediately two college kids pulled up next to her and she struck a deal with them for one-fifty and they paid for the hotel room. It took her forty-five minutes to fuck both of them because they demanded more from her than she had bargained for - she had to do both of them twice instead of just once.

Back on the street she counted her money, she still needed another twenty-five dollars, but the street was deserted and during the next half-hour she saw no one. She was ready to cry. Only twenty-five dollars away from ending this nightmare and it did not look like she was going to get it. She had just about given up hope when a car turned the corner and pulled up alongside her. A fairly large black man said, "Are you available?" Susan really wanted to pass on this one, but she hadn't seen a soul in quite a while and she did need twenty-five dollars.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked.

"One hour in a hotel room and whatever I can do in that hour."

Susan almost panicked; she had no idea what to charge for something like that, or even what he meant by "all I can do in an hour." She did some quick calculating - two, at best three erections, two fucks and a blowjob? She took a chance, if he didn't go for it she would walk away. "Two-fifty and you pay the motel room."