Common People

Her eyes widened in panic. Why had she said that? Why had she been just as stupid as this old fucker? Now they were both headed for the cells. But the cop didn't seem to be in any kind of a hurry to head over with the handcuffs. Instead, he just stood there, staring at them with this weird look on his face, like he wasn't really seeing them at all.

"Well, then, dear, hop in! I believe there's a hotel a few blocks away with rooms by the hour." He had this weird voice, sort of a fake British accent and this tone like he thought this was the funniest thing in the whole world. But he was paying, and Mimi definitely wanted to be anywhere but on this corner right now.

She got in the car. "Hi, baby," she said. "My name's Mimi. What's yours?"

"Call me Vincent," he said. He pulled ahead into traffic, driving the short distance to the motel. "So how much does a girl like you cost?"

"That depends on what you want to do," she purred seductively.

"I want to fuck you," he said in irritated tones. "What did you think we were going to do, discuss poetry and compare our tastes in foreign films?" He pulled up to the curb again, getting out of the car and putting a quarter in the meter.

"Sorry, baby," she said, even though in the privacy of her head she was furious. It didn't pay to pick a fight with the johns, but this guy was already being an ass and she hadn't even gotten undressed yet. She dearly wished she could tell him to try fucking himself for a change, but she needed the money too badly. "That's a hundred bucks."

"Fifty," he said as he passed through the revolving doors into the hotel lobby. "Take it or leave it."

She almost left it. She wanted to leave it. Mimi knew she wasn't a real hot number, but this was New York. There was always a convention in town or a guy away on business or someone who was looking to find willing company for a little while, and Mimi knew she could get a hundred from just about any of them. But she couldn't quite seem to convince her legs, because she walked through the revolving doors right after him, and she couldn't quite seem to convince her lips, because she found herself saying, "Alright, baby, fifty it is," and what made it worse was that she knew she didn't want to say it, but she couldn't stop herself. She felt like she was in an episode of 'The Twilight Zone'.

"Alright," he said. He walked up to the desk, and the clerk handed them a key without asking them for money. Mimi wondered if he knew what he was doing and couldn't stop himself either, or if he just didn't even think about the cash. "Come on," Vincent said. "We're just down this hall."

Now Mimi definitely wanted to take off. Money or no money, this was one scary fucked-up trick and she didn't want any part of it anymore. Fifty bucks wasn't worth this kind of spooky craziness. But she walked three steps behind him the whole way down the hall, and she couldn't even seem to look up from her own feet. She probably looked like one of those Muslim women, only dressed like a hooker.

He let them both into the room, and sat on the slightly shabby bed. "Take off your clothes," he said. Mimi couldn't stop herself; that strange compulsion pulled at her and she found herself peeling off her outfit without any kind of conscious effort on her part.

"You know what's going on?" he said as he slipped his own clothes off.

"You..." Mimi wasn't even sure at first if he'd let her say it, but she seemed to be able to control her mouth, at least for now. "You're doing something. To my head." She climbed onto the bed, got onto her hands and knees. "You're making me do shit."

He got around behind her, grabbed her hair and pulled it tight in his fist. "And how does that make you feel?" he said. She could feel his cock pressing just a little at the entrance to her pussy, but she couldn't move. Not to get away or to get closer. She desperately wanted to get away, but she felt a sudden sick certainty that if Vincent decided to, he could make her want to get closer instead. He could make her want to fuck him. She felt even worse when she realized that the knowledge wasn't even her own. He'd put it in her mind.

"Scared," she said. She tried to keep her voice calm. She didn't know why she was bothering, he had to know exactly how fucking scared she really was, but she found herself dealing with him the same way she would any other freaky john. Just try to keep your shit together, she told herself. Let him get his rocks off, and he probably won't hurt you.

He slid into her. "But only probably," he said, and she let out a tiny little scream as she realized he'd heard her think that. "You know that, right?" He started pumping his hips, and Mimi felt tiny little warning bells go off in her head as she realized belatedly that he hadn't put on a condom, that he might give her VD or AIDS or even just knock her up, but she couldn't stop him. She couldn't stop him from doing anything he wanted to do to her, anything at all.

"Ah, yes," he said. "Then you do know. I could do...unnnh...I could do anything I wanted to you right now. I could kill you." His other hand moved from her shoulder to wrap around her throat, not grabbing hard enough to cut off her oxygen but hard enough that she'd have bruises by this time tomorrow. "You couldn't stop me, I could even make you beg me to do it. Even if I let you scream, nobody would come to help you." He was pumping faster now, his voice getting shaky as his cock slid in and out of her pussy. "How...how does that make you feel?" he asked, strain in his tones.

"S-scared," she whimpered.

"No!" he shouted, twisting her hair in her grasp and yanking her head back painfully. "How does that make you feel?"

"I...I don't know," she pleaded, knowing that he'd kill her if she couldn't figure it out, knowing that the knowledge wasn't real, just something he'd implanted in her head to make her even more frightened and desperate, but not being able to shake it despite that. "I...I..."

"How does it make you feel?" he shouted, his fingernails digging into her throat.

Tears streamed freely down Mimi's face now, as she thought about dying on a stained bedspread in a motel room far from home. "Helpless!" she cried out, the words a desperate plea as much as an admission.

Vincent strained his hips, and she knew he was cumming inside her. "Very good," he said, pulling out. "Then it looks like you have everything you wanted." He let her go, and she suddenly collapsed onto the bed, all the strength in her muscles turned to water by the adrenalin backwash. He slid off the bed and pulled his clothes back on. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow," he said as he took out his wallet, pulling out a few wrinkled twenty-dollar bills and throwing them on the floor. "Keep the change."

He closed the door behind him as he left, but Mimi couldn't stop herself from shaking as she cautiously climbed off the bed. She snatched up the money from the ground and began pulling her clothes back on. Everything I wanted? she wondered as she slipped the money into her bra. What could possibly make him think she wanted a life like this?

She took a deep breath and headed back out into the hall, back out into the night. She might not want it, but it wasn't like she'd been given a choice.

THE END