Casey Needs Ca$h

Author's note: This is a story about a girl who trades her innocence for money. It's a contest story, so please vote. Mostly this is a cautionary tale about material culture. A Christmas Carol, but with a much darker ending. I hope you like it.

Casey Wells picked her way up the broken porch stairs of her best friend's house. The Marshalls lived in pig alley, a block of dilapidated rowhomes two streets back from the steel plant.

Casey rapped on the screen door.

Mr. Marshall hollered her in from the couch. He sat with his shirt open, watching TV with a beer in his hand. He worked shifts at the mill and was still in his dirty overalls.

"Hey, Case," he said. He looked tired, gesturing with his beer for her to head upstairs to Kimmy's room.

Casey could feel Mr. Marshall's eyes on her as she crossed the room. He was in his late thirties and his wife had died two years ago, leaving him alone to raise Kimmy and her twin brother Brad. Casey didn't mind that Mr. Marshall found her attractive. She'd never had a boyfriend. Her body had developed late and her breasts were still small, her hips somewhat narrow and slim. At the stairs, she turned and found Mr. Marshall staring at her bottom. A warm rush of heat swelled up inside her body, making her feel flustered. His eyes rose to meet hers and he grinned with no shame. The lusty look in his eyes made Casey turn and race up the stairs. He didn't look at her that way when Kimmy or Brad was around. Loud music was playing in Kimmy's bedroom. Casey burst through the door and Kimmy jumped up and started stuffing things under the bed.

"What cha got?" Casey asked.

Kimmy looked up, all round eyed and guilty.

A wave of distrust washed over Casey. She hated herself for feeling suspicious, but tensions had been building between the girls for the last few weeks. Kimmy had suddenly become distant and evasive. She'd started lying about stupid things, mostly stuff having to do with money. Like, Kimmy would show up for school wearing a cool new outfit, but then she would lie and say it was something Mr. Marshall had picked up for her at Goodwill. Casey knew perfectly well what you could and could not get at Goodwill.

"Don't you knock?" Kimmy said, eyes blazing.

Casey was about to apologize--—a knee jerk reaction to being put on the spot--—but then she saw Kimmy was holding an iPhone. Casey looked at the phone in shock. "Wow," she said. "You got an iPhone now?"

Kimmy laughed. But it was an uncomfortable laugh, like the kind of laugh you made when you had something to hide.

Casey suddenly felt nauseous. "Kimmy," she said. It came out in a long drawn out whine. Kim-m-m-y-y-y-y.

Kimmy patted the mattress next to her.

Casey sat while her friend held the phone at arm's length and snapped half a dozen selfies, posing cheek to cheek. Casey stared at the photos. Her friend was grinning and happy but she just looked lost and bereft. A text message appeared on the phone and at the same time something flashed on the face of the watch on Kimmy's wrist. Casey looked closer. The watch was one of those fancy new gadgets that only the rich kids from across the river could afford. Casey had no idea how much they cost, but she knew it was more than she and Kimmy made at Hardees. A lot more.

"I don't even know how to do this yet." Kimmy grinned, toying with the watch. Casey creased her face, waiting for some sort of an explanation, but Kimmy didn't provide one.

"Are you selling drugs?" Casey finally whispered.

Kimmy scoffed but didn't add anything more. The two girls sat in silence. An uncomfortable silence. Casey was about to just get up and leave when Brad came in the room. He was counting a fistful of cash and looked up, saw Casey, and stuffed the money into his front pocket.

Kimmy gave him a furious expression.

He apologized and tried to back out, but Casey balked. "Wait, wait. What is going on?" she demanded.

Kimmy and Brad looked at one another.

Finally Brad broke the silence: "You should tell her," he said, speaking to Kimmy. "She might be interested."

"Get the fuck out of my room," Kimmy snapped.

Brad looked evenly at his sister for a minute but didn't say anything. He took the money from his front pocket, peeled off a few bills, and then laid them on the bed. He left without saying another word.

He'd laid two twenty-dollar bills and a fifty on the bed.

A week's pay.

Casey could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Her heart was breaking. Her best friend was keeping secrets. She didn't want to cry in front of anyone so she got up and made her way out. At the door, she stood with her back to the room and said she'd always considered Kimmy her best friend. Her voice cracked.

"Wait, Casey. Wait."

Kimmy crossed the room, spun Casey around, and put her hands on her shoulders. Kimmy looked into her friend's eyes and said it was complicated. She said they were still best friends. "I'm not telling you," she said, "mostly because I don't want you to hate me."

Casey suddenly burst into sobs.

Kimmy held Casey and then led her back to the bed and got a box of tissues. They blew their noses and eventually composed themselves.

An awkward silence hung in the room.

Kimmy was bright red. Her face, her ears. Even her neckline was red. She looked so anguished Casey wanted to let her off the hook, but she knew she couldn't do that. She had to know.

"Is it something illegal?"

Kimmy thought for a minute and seemed surprised by her answer. "You know--—it probably is. I never really thought about it that way."

Kimmy took Casey's hands in hers. "You have to promise never to tell anyone."

Casey nodded, eyes wide.

"You know that creepy guy who moved into the house on Bleeker?" Casey did know the guy. He was a thirty-something guy with heavy features and tangled hair. He occasionally came to Hardees in the afternoon and gave the counter girls unwholesome looks. Kimmy chewed her lip. She was keeping her eyes down, staring at the money in her hand. She took a deep breath. "You're going to hate me when I tell you," she whispered.

Casey put her hand on Kimmy's shoulder. "I could never hate you, Kimmy."

Kimmy looked up. "No one."

Casey nodded.

"He takes pictures of us." Kimmy sighed. "He pays us to come to his house and pose for him. Naked." Kimmy looked at a spot on the floor. Casey sat quietly, her whole body suddenly on high alert. A tingling between her legs made her shift her hips and clench her thighs together. Kimmy said the guy had started with Tommy and Dana because Tommy lives near him on Bleeker. Then he'd asked those two if they had any friends who wanted to earn some money. Now it was six of them going over there, including her and Brad.

The tingling between Casey's legs turned into a dull throbbing. She reached for Kimmy's hand. "Do you guys have... sex?"

"No," Kimmy said too quickly, looking away. "It's just pictures."

Casey narrowed her eyes. That sounded like a lie.

"I mean we have to do some stuff," Kimmy said, a little defensive. "We have to strip. And, like, we have to hug and kiss and say dirty stuff to one another. He films it."

Casey winced. "How could you do that?"

Kimmy tugged her hand free and Casey regretted her tone.

Kimmy said she was tired of being poor and held up her wrist, displaying the glimmering watch. "It's worth it to me."

"What does he do with the pictures?" Casey thought about taking off her clothes for a man. It was wrong but she was curious. The dull throbbing between her legs was back.

Kimmy shrugged. "He sells them."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"It did at first. But then I figured that no one I know is going to buy them. And besides, a lot of my friends are already in the pictures."

"You've seen Tommy naked?" Casey whispered.

Kimmy smirked. "Dana too."

Casey covered her mouth with shock. The idea of seeing her friends nude intrigued her. She grew animated, asking about the logistics of the photo shoots and details about modeling. Kimmy said the guy had lights, umbrellas, and big-ass cameras. Sometimes he just took pictures of a single person stripping. Other times they would do little skits with the photographer or one of his friends. As soon as Kimmy mentioned the skits, she seemed anxious and began to backpedal.

Casey's mind swirled with confusion. "But, like, you don't have to--"

The door burst open and Brad was back in the room. He looked at both of the girls and then addressed Kimmy. "Did you tell her?"

"She's not interested." Kimmy looked furious.

"Tell me what?" Casey asked. "What am I not interested in?"

Brad gave Casey a mischievous look. "He's always looking for new talent. He gives us fifty dollars for finding a new girl. If she's a virgin, he pays us a hundred, and he gives the girl a hundred. You're a virgin, aren't you Casey?"

"Fuck you," Kimmy barked.

She got off the bed and hustled her brother towards the door. On his way out, he gave her a message from the photographer. "He wants you at his house tomorrow after school."

Kimmy shut her door.

She came back to the bed and wouldn't look at Casey. They'd made plans weeks ago to hang out tomorrow after school. She was losing her best friend to the creepy photographer. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"A hundred dollars," Casey said.

Kimmy gave her friend an incredulous look. "You couldn't do it, Case. You're too nice of a person."

"You're doing it." Casey said. She understood Kimmy was protecting her, but it still stung to hear her best friend say there was something she couldn't do. Then Casey realized she was actually considering posing nude and her mouth went dry. Kimmy was listing all the reasons why she thought Casey wouldn't like modeling. The photographer could be dismissive, she said, even crude. Especially towards the girls. Casey struggled with her desire to explore something so wrong. "If I don't like it, I'll just quit," she said.

Kimmy shook her head. "It's not that easy."

Casey narrowed her eyes. That did not sound like a lie. But what did it mean?

Just then Mr. Marshall hollered for Kimmy to come down for dinner. Kimmy hollered back, but she didn't move from the bed. The room went silent for a beat. Casey considered what her friend had just said. "So, you have to do it for the rest of your life?" she asked.

"No," Kimmy snorted. She put the heel of her hand on Casey's forehead and gave a little push. "I just have a few more months and then I'm done. It's just till I turn nineteen."

Casey looked at her blankly.

"He says there's no market for pictures of girls over eighteen."

Casey gasped, unable to say anything for a bit. "That's awful," she finally whispered.

"It's not so bad." Kimmy shrugged.

Someone rapped on the door and Mr. Marshall poked his head into the room. "You staying for dinner Case? It's red chili and homemade cornbread." Casey lied that she had homework. She would have liked to stay and ask a million more questions, but she needed to be alone. Her small breasts were swollen, pushing her sensitive nipples against the fabric of her shirt. Her panties were moist and warm. She knew damn well that Kimmy was doing more than just posing for pictures. Casey knew it but didn't allow herself to explore that thought too deeply. For now, not knowing was more of a comfort than knowing. She was pretty sure she wanted to pose. She wanted the money, but more than the money, she wanted a particular kind of attention, the kind of attention that a girl could only get from a man. Meanwhile, she had finally cleared the air between her and Kimmy. He didn't want models over eighteen. Casey felt her teeth clench and her stomach twist. It was awful that he was only interested in young models for his pictures. But there was something else about that age limit nagging at her mind: Her nineteenth birthday was fast approaching. She would only be eighteen for six more weeks.

If she were going to pose, she would have to do it soon.

The next day Casey waited for Kimmy in the early morning chill. They always walked up the hill to school together. Kimmy was one of the best-looking girls in their class. Dirty blonde hair that hung to the middle of her back. Blue eyes, pale skin. High Scandinavian cheekbones and sturdy, wide hips.

Kimmy trotted off the porch and fell into step beside her friend.

"Want to make a hundred dollars?" Casey asked. All night long she'd been thinking about posing nude.

Kimmy grinned but didn't say anything.

Casey didn't push it. The two walked all the way to school sharing long comfortable silences or talking about inconsequential things. A block from school, there were more students crowding onto the sidewalk. With everyone around, the opportunity to talk openly went away, and Kimmy finally responded to Casey's question in a hushed voice. "You're too good for that kind of work."

Casey stopped walking and Kimmy stopped too. Casey knew what Kimmy had just said was about her and the guy on Bleeker. She was about to protest, but then Kimmy held up her hand.

"If you do it," Kimmy said, "you should know that you might have to do more than just pose."

Casey's legs felt suddenly weak. Her body flooded with warmth and her mouth dried up. She'd known all along Kimmy was doing more than just posing nude, but hearing her admit it sent a dark thrill through her body. Kimmy turned as if to go, but Casey grabbed her wrist. "What do you do?"

"Oral," Kimmy whispered.

Casey let out a little moan. A warm ache started between her legs. "Tommy?"

Kimmy waited, watching a couple of boys pass. She met Casey's eyes. "Everyone," she said. "Tommy and everyone else, too."

Casey grinned to mask her growing apprehension. Kimmy was sucking cocks. Did Casey want to suck cock? The answer came to her immediately. Of course she did. Her body was thrumming with desire, her nipples tingling and a warm feeling growing down below.

"The guy? Him too?" Casey husked.

Kimmy nodded. "One of us has to do him every day. Sometimes he has friends over. You have to do those guys, too."

Casey took a deep breath.

Her head was spinning and her body flushed with raw desire. She knew it was wrong to have these feelings, but she couldn't help it. Her mouth was open and she was panting. Closing her mouth, she gazed around to make sure no one was watching. She wanted to touch herself, but that was impossible out here in front of the school.

"Girls too," Kimmy said.

Casey sucked in her breath. A cold pulse of fear swept through her.

"Case," Kimmy murmured, leaning in close. "Think about eating my pussy. Can you do that?" Casey gave an involuntary shudder. Kimmy was trying to shock her and it was working.

"I don't know," Casey croaked. "But... I want to try."

"I know," Kimmy said. She reached for Casey's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Classes were about to start. The girls started walking towards homeroom. Casey walked numbly, putting one foot in front of the other. Her mind swirled with dark thoughts, but her pussy was all swollen and juicy.

Kimmy drew Casey close. She looked into her friend's eyes.

"Don't worry about what you might have to do," Kimmy said. "The acts aren't really a problem. You'll do fine when the time comes. The scary thing is that once you start, you kinda get sucked in."

Casey narrowed her eyes.

"It's hard to explain." Kimmy shrugged.

"The point is that once you start, it's hard to stop," Kimmy said. "Make sure it's what you want."

They didn't meet up again until after last class.

Casey didn't want to be the one to bring up the guy on Bleeker. They started the walk home in silence. They hadn't talked about her going to Bleeker since homeroom, but it was all she had thought about the entire day. Kimmy turned toward Bleeker, and Casey's heart raced. She kept grinning at Kimmy but Kimmy didn't respond. When they finally arrived at the house, Kimmy led the way onto the porch and knocked. She turned and appraised Casey, using her fingers to adjust her hair.

"The first time is just pictures."

A wave of nervous energy swallowed Casey up. The door opened and Kimmy turned to greet the guy. "Dak, this is my friend Casey."

He beamed with pleasure.

Casey saw the recognition in his eyes, and it terrified her. "Hi Casey," he said. Her mind went blank. She looked at Kimmy.

"Casey wants to... you know."

He held open the screen door.

Kimmy motioned for Casey to lead the way.

Casey marshalled her courage. Inside, the room was dark and crowded with cords and lights and tripods. Kimmy picked her way around Casey, heading deeper into the house.

Casey blew all the air from her lungs.

Dak seemed to sense her nervousness and did his best to set her at ease. He stood with her at the door and asked about her job at Hardees. She stumbled through a rambling response. He listened patiently then asked if she'd ever modeled before. She shook her head. He said it didn't matter. He said he was a professional photographer and would make her look fantastic.

He asked her age.

"Eighteen," she said softly. Barely old enough to do what she knew he wanted her to do. He said that was perfect and her mouth went dry. He took her backpack and set it by the door. He led her by the elbow to a backdrop and flicked on some big lights. He talked about the market for pictures of eighteen-year-old girls. The lights were so bright it was hard to see. His voice droned on. He asked whether her boyfriend knew she was modeling and she felt a sudden swell of shame. "I don't... have a boyfriend," she murmured.

He stepped out of the glare. "Are you a virgin?"

Casey nodded, blushing.

"Did Kimmy tell you about the money she made selling me her cherry?"

Casey gasped. Kimmy was fucking. Some small part of Casey's mind had known this business would involve fucking, but she hadn't allowed herself to admit it. Now everything was out in the open.

"Is that why you're here?"

Casey felt her head nodding. She was just now admitting her desires to herself. She did want to fuck.

He smirked. "You're going to make a lot of money."

He set up a tripod with a video camera and pointed it at her. He started taking pictures with a different camera. He asked if she was turned on. She blushed even more deeply. Her pussy was throbbing.

"It's okay," he said. "I'm turned on, too. It's all very sexual."

His permission helped. Her legs felt weak. She was breathing heavily through her mouth, almost a pant. He asked her to slowly lift her skirt, looking right into the camera. He'd disappeared back into the lights, which was a comfort. It offered her the illusion of privacy. Holding her skirt up near her waist, she exposed her panties. The shutter clicked rapidly.

He said she had a beautiful mound. No one had ever noticed her mound before. He called it a sexy protruding mound. Casey looked at her crotch as if she'd never seen it before. A small wet spot had appeared in front and it shamed her to have ruined her panties.

He chuckled. "I can see your excitement," he said.

His acknowledgement of her arousal was freeing. He knew her secret lusts and accepted them. A special bond was forming between her and this horrible man.

"Turn around. I want some shots of your bottom."

Casey turned and spotted Kimmy sitting on a couch across the room. Casey had almost forgotten about Kimmy, but there she was, riveted. Casey drew her skirt up, exposing her panties. Her friend's rapt attention made her nervous. Could she really eat her best friend's pussy?

"Turn towards me and open your top."

She fumbled with the first button, then the second. Her hands were shaking. She grinned sheepishly, breathing deeply to calm herself.