tagErotic HorrorCassie's Story Ch. 02-03

Cassie's Story Ch. 02-03

byau_Macbeth©

She remembered little of that first conversation, other than having coffee and talking of things that seemed unimportant to her but Greg (as she discover his name to be) almost hung on every word, his green eyes alert and attentive - though she could also tell that his eyes also wandered her body. At least he was normal in that context. Greg's eyes weren't undressing her but more seemed to see beyond her exterior, sliding inside her even. It was like he was opening doors in her mind and unlocking secrets. She felt suddenly invaded... violated... because whilst his search was gentle and soft, it was uninvited. Cassie was angry. She used anger as a defence when she didn't understand something and now she understood nothing about this stranger before her.

She stood up abruptly, nearly tipping the chair over in her haste to be away. "Your hour is up and I have customers waiting," she glanced over her shoulder relieved to find a few guys wandering around that she was sure she could get something from. Greg only smiled and stood as she left, though Cassie knew his eyes never left her as she moved lithely back across the road.

She was entering her natural habitat, entering her comfort zone where the questions she got were related to whether her ass was also for rent or whether the guy could go bareback. She would "explain" the rules and they would agree. Or leave. Cassie didn't care... she wasn't getting some stranger's cock inside her that might be a death sentence. And frankly most of the time she didn't care how much enjoyment they got out of it - they always shot their load into the little rubber cover, either between her thighs or in her mouth.

It's not that she didn't like the taste of a man in her mouth -- more, it was an activity she very much enjoyed and knew her partners shared her pleasure. In reality, a bare cock tasted much better than a condom but Cassie was taking no risks. Of course, she hadn't tasted a man for a while. As soon as a man discovered she worked Thursday through Saturday nights - and what she did, they tended to lose interest. It didn't matter, she pocketed a good sum each week. With that and the money from her "real" job, she was getting the amount she needed. After that..., well after that wasn't something to think about yet. Cassie wasn't a dreaming kind of girl.

She walked over to the man standing on the street corner, noticed how nervously he stood and then saw his age. 'Another fucking kid,' she thought 'I wonder if he even shaves yet...', and yet she knew how it would go. He would reach into his wallet, his hands trembling and his eyes more on the black tube top that just covered her breasts -- leaving much of her flat stomach bare and take out five crisp $50's that had just come out of the hole in the wall bank and then push them into her hand, as if they were dirty or might explode if he hung on to them. He would follow her up to her "office" as she called it and if he didn't blow his load walking up the stairs behind her, her first stroke on his boy cock would probably bring him undone. She tried not to feel guilty, putting on her sexiest smile as she approached the baby, linking her arm in his and suddenly slipping into the role of loving girlfriend, her hand soft as it stroked his t-shirt encased chest...

************************************************

After the boy left, his guilty shame not letting him stay around for long afterwards, Cassie didn't feel like going back downstairs - she knew Greg would be there and she just didn't need his shit right now. She was still angry at him, even though it was stupid. Maybe she will lure him upstairs one time. She was pretty damn sure he wouldn't be quite so sure of himself as she glided her tongue up the length of his shaft and teased the head of his cock with her teeth. Men always seem to lose their focus when they see big innocent eyes staring up at them adoringly while sucking their cock into a greedy whore's mouth.

It was Saturday anyway and near the end of the night. If she was lucky, he would finally get bored and be gone...

It was next Friday and Cassie arrived at her corner at pretty much the usual time. Greg was there, sitting in what had become his usual place to. He didn't acknowledge her presence in any way nor did he react at all when she flipped him the bird. 'Fuck', she thought. Another night of Mr Spooky Voyeur... oh well, he would get what he wanted tonight, Cassie was sure she was going to score big, she just felt it. She might go home sore between the thighs but at least her wallet would be full.

Again she thought of what she might do after all this... and again, he mind closed that door quickly, not wanting to even contemplate what "after" might mean. She looked up again, eyes refocusing on the street, on what she needed to be concentrating on. She saw Greg looking at her, a look of (concern) puzzlement on his face. She glared at him and turned away, immediately sinking into the role she needed. The whore...

Cassie immediately saw her opportunity, a man of middling years watching her, appraising her. She walked over, exuding sensual sex appeal as she did. Cassie didn't mind guys in that age bracket. Many weren't quite as attractive as they used to be (but being a whore, a girl couldn't be too choosy), though they tended to - almost - be interested in whether she was enjoying the time together. Not often but sometimes. Hell, one had even made her wet sometime - beat the hell out of sticking lubricant up inside yourself each time.

She was so deep in conversation with the new guy, getting the most she could from the deal (and actually the only part of the whole thing she did enjoy), that she let her guard down for just a minute. That was something Cassie knew never to do. She always kept a sixth sense of the people who were nearby.

It was the stench of cheap whisky and day old smoke that warned her, though of course that was too late because that meant he was right there beside her. She knew that scent anywhere. After all, it had been on her the first three months she had been "working". Didn't matter how many times she would wash her hair and body, it just never left. Cassie felt sick.

"Hello pet," the words spoken behind her in a dangerous tone. She knew just how dangerous. It's amazing what two cracked ribs and a broken wrist did to your powers of observation. You learn very quickly what sort of mood someone was in by their tone. And you always learnt how quickly it could change. That tone used to give her nightmares, it put her in a hospital twice and even now made her tremble. Taylor was no shrinking violet, she had her fair share of clients who wanted things a little rough - which if they were paying and could control themselves was just fine - but she had also brought a few of them to their knees. But this was different. Wayne was very different...

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