She Painted Up Her Face

Months later when she had missed her second period she went to a doctor who confirmed the worst. "I thought that as I was unable to have children after years of trying, that I would not have to take precautions, obviously I was wrong, and that there is nothing wrong with my reproductive system."

"You're married are you?"

"I was, but not now."

"We have a decision on our hands now, don't we? What are we going to do about this?"

"I know that it sounds cold, but I'm not in a financial or mental place to be having a child."

"Are you sure? If you decide on an abortion you can't undo that decision once it happens."

"I'm sure."

"Very well, I'll refer you to the Women's Health Clinic and they can fill you in on what happens next."

It was as she left the surgery that she thought more about her situation. That she and her husband were unsuccessful at having children was not her fault, and this made her angry. Taking a pen, she wrote to him, telling him that she was pregnant to another man and suggesting that the child that his new wife had just presented him with, may not have been his. She didn't send the letter, what good would it have done.

The Women's Health Centre arranged the abortion and provided her with the morning after pill in case she should get drunk again. The one thing that came out of this was the knowledge that she could easily forget her problems. She became a regular at the hotel around the corner, and just as regularly she did not go home alone. Men were willing to pay well for her services and she no longer sought employment, her new and comfortable existence was enough for her.

"Hi, how are you this evening?" Will, the barman greeted her as she walked in and sat at the bar.

"Fine, how are you?"

"What'll you have this evening, the usual?"

"Sure, thanks."

"Are you meeting someone tonight, or flying solo?"

"If there's someone to meet then I'll meet him, why do you ask?"

"See that guy over in that booth at the back?" She glanced in the direction that he indicated with a slight nod of his head. "He's in town for one night, I think he's looking for some action, interested?"

"Could be."

There was another almost imperceptible nod of his head and the man stood and walked to the bar for a refill. He took her in with a quick glance. "Hi, can I buy you a drink?"

"Why not."

"Refill this young lady's drink for her." He turned to her. "Would you care to join me?"

"Very well, just for a drink, no funny business." Her smile negated the comment, it was obvious that she was amenable to offers. As she sat down she took in the man. He was tall and slim, dark haired with no trace of grey, could be hair colour, she thought to herself. He had brown eyes to go with his dark complexion, Mediterranean, she thought, when he smiled at her his even teeth were unstained, a non-smoker, she thought, he wore no rings and there was no indication that he'd taken it off for the night, yes, I believe that I could be interested, she thought to herself.

"I'm Paul, and you are?"

For tonight I'm, "Gerry, that's short for Geraldine for which I will never forgive my parents."

"I'm pleased to meet you Gerry." He reached his hand over the table and shook hers.

"Will, he's the barman by the way, tells me that you're only here for this evening, are you in town for a meeting?"

"Yes, it finished early and my flight isn't until tomorrow morning at 10." This wasn't true, but it gave him a reason not to contact her after this evening.

"And is there a Mrs Paul waiting at home for you tomorrow?"

"Unfortunately no." There was, but she was spending time with her mother and wouldn't be home until the weekend.

They sat and talked for an hour, during which he refilled her glass four times and produced a bowl of corn chips for them to nibble on. "Would you like to come to my hotel room for a coffee?"

"Would you like to come to my apartment, it's just around the corner and you don't have any prying hotel staff to bother with."

"Sounds even better. Shall we go?"

"No time like the present."

"Lead on then." They left together and Will gave them a knowing smile as they left. He was on a good thing here, if she was willing, and for a 'spotters fee' he would steer men in her direction. He would broach the subject when she came in tomorrow night.

Paul wasn't as good a lover as she had expected, he was only interested in his pleasure, she was merely a receptacle for that. If he had been better she would have invited him to stay the night, as it was he was encouraged to leave when she decreed that he had received his money's worth.

"You were good, it's a pity that I have to push you out so soon, but you see, I have to get up early in the morning and I need my beauty sleep. Next time you're in town I'll see what I can do about having you stay the night. Good-night lover." She kissed him passionately on the lips and closed the door.

What he paid her would pay her rent for a week, but there was still food to buy, and she needed new clothes, she couldn't show up wearing the same clothes too often. This was an expensive business that she was in. 'What I need,' she thought as she slipped out of the robe she wore to see Paul off, 'is someone to take the work out of finding men. Maybe Will could help, he seemed to have a handle on what she was doing.'

Will was on duty the following night. "Hi, the usual?" He asked as she sat on her usual stool.

"Sure thing."

"How are things tonight?"

"Fine, how are things with you?"

"Same old same old, you know how it is in this job, same people drinking the same shit, no offence, I don't mean you," he smiled at her, "It's the guys who think that their shit don't stink and buy the latest fad drink for the bimbos that they bring in here, at the moment it's vodka and Red Bull, sort of a buzz and high at the same time."

"Yeah I know what you mean, you see them all the time, pouring that stuff down the girl's throat as quickly as they can, so that they can get into the girl's pants, and get home to the wife before she gets worried and calls the cops to look for them. Give me an unattached man any time, less of a hassle."

"You like single men don't you?"

"Yeah, that guy last night has a wife and he got an attack of the guilts that caused his performance to suffer."

"You're not a professional, are you?"

"No, just an enthusiastic amateur trying to supplement my miserable salary and buy life's little luxuries like food and clothes. Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking that there might be a dollar in it for me if I were to steer likely men in your direction. For instance that guy down the end of the bar seems interested in you."

"Are you telling me that you want to be my pimp?"

"No, just looking for a spotter's fee for successful outcomes."

"How do you know that I won't rip you off?"

"I tell him how much it will cost him and you can give me my cut the next time you're in. If he's more than satisfied and pays extra, that's all yours, I don't want to know about it. So you see, we set a base rate, and you are encouraged to perform well by the prospect of more money. The better that you are the higher the fee."

"What sort of money are we talking about here?"

"I was thinking of 500 bucks for the evening until mid-night, if he stays the night a thousand, and I take ten percent. Is that okay by you?"

"What will they expect for that kind of money? I'm not into any of that kinky stuff like BDSM or anal."

"You make more for anal, you do know that don't you?"

"I don't care, my arse is my own, and no-one goes in there, end of story."

"All right. Now the guy down the end is after another drink, do I give him the word?"

"Why not, he looks okay."

He was okay, he stayed for two hours during which time they had sex twice and a cup of coffee while he asked her why an attractive young woman should be in this kind of work. "It's all about relationships. I placed all of my trust in a relationship with a man who I thought I could trust. Not only did he betray that trust, but he did it in a way that prevents me from committing to a long term relationship. Don't get me wrong, you seem to be a very nice guy, but once you leave here I will forget all about you. That way I won't get hurt."

"That's sad. Not all men are like him."

"Are you married?"

"Yes."

"I rest my case."

He left her, but not before paying her the agreed amount and another hundred dollars that he thought of as 'conscience money'.

The arrangement with Will prospered. As her confidence in her ability to perform increased, so did her price, and with this increase in earnings she decided to cut back on the number of times that she needed to go to the hotel. This marketing strategy of limiting her availability increased the demand for her services and further increased the asking price. Life was becoming undemanding on her, but this didn't mean that her standards dropped off. She still kept her figure trim and her dress was almost conservative, nothing overt about her sexuality, but for the discerning eye it was still there.

"What will you have tonight?" Will asked as she entered.

"What, or who are my choices?"

"I have a tall, athletic type, looks fit and, shall we say, well endowed, and a business type, looks like he keeps trim, and loaded."

"I'll have the usual while I think it over."

"Sure, no rush, they aren't going anywhere."

She settled on the businessman, and this was to be a mistake that cost her dearly.

"Won't you come in?" She held the door open for him. "Here let me take your coat." She took his coat and placed it on a hanger. Turning to him she kissed him and led him to the sofa. "Would you like a drink?"

"No thank you, I have everything I want right here." 'How nice', she thought as he kissed her. His kiss lingered and she felt his hand move to her breast.

"You are an eager beaver, aren't you?"

"I don't have a lot of time." His kissed became more passionate and she felt him fumbling for the buttons of her blouse. Unable to undo them he ripped it open and pulled her bra up over her breasts. As he hungrily devoured her nipple, his hand reached behind her and unclasped her bra. "Let's get rid of this thing." He pulled it away from her body and threw it across the room. He didn't stop to admire her before resuming his attack on her breasts, while, at the same time he was fumbling for the fastening and zipper of her skirt. He loosened it and pulled it down. "Fucking pantihose, these are a fucking waste of time, passion killers is what they are." He was stronger than he looked, the waist of her pantihose succumbed without a fight to his strength. He stood. "Take off my pants." He ordered. She obeyed, by this time she was scared of him and his aggression. "Now suck my cock." He held it in one hand and pushed it against her lips. "Suck it bitch!" She opened her mouth and he shoved it to the back of her mouth. She gagged on it. "What kind of whore are you that you gag on a cock?"

"I'm not a whore, not really."

"I paid good money for your sexual services, that makes you a whore, and you will do as I ask. Now suck my cock like you enjoy it."

She tried, but she didn't enjoy it. Pushing her back onto the sofa he roughly pulled her to him and, without any preparation, shoved his cock into her dry vagina. It hurt her, having this penis ramming into her. After several minutes he withdrew and rolled her onto her stomach. He grabbed her hips and pulled them up to meet his cock. Again it was without preparation and it gave her no pleasure at all. Again this went on for several minutes before he withdrew. She felt the head of his cock against her anus. "No!" She screamed. "I won't let you shove that thing in my arsehole."

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. "I am going to fuck you in the arse, do you hear me?"

"Please no, please don't do that."

"Too fucking bad, you are going to get a good arse fuck and like it." He was not gentle, and she could feel it tearing as he shoved it in and out like a piston. She felt him come into her and withdraw from her. Then she felt him grab her hair and wrench her head back. His fist smashed into her jaw and she felt a couple of teeth break and blood well up in her mouth. "You would have to be the worst fucking whore that I have ever had. You are lucky that I'm kind or I wouldn't give you the money that your pimp demanded for your services." He took his wallet out and threw a bundle of notes onto the sofa. "The only reason that I'm doing this is that you won't be able to accuse me of raping you if you've charge for it." He dressed quickly and left.

It took her some time before she could think at all. She rang the hotel and asked to speak with Will. "Will, help me." She sobbed into the phone.

"What's the matter, are you hurt?"

"Yes." Her voice trailed off as she lost consciousness.

To paraphrase Dickens; 'It was the worst of times, it was the fucking worst of times'. She spent two weeks in hospital in pain. They wouldn't let her have a mirror 'until the swelling goes down'. The delay still didn't prepare her for the vision that confronted her when eventually she was allowed to look at herself. The swelling may have gone down but the purple and green bruising was still there, and in the middle of it were a couple of wires that were all that held her jawbone and cheek bone together. By running her tongue around inside her mouth she could feel the broken teeth.

Will came and saw her a couple of times and she was aware of another person who came in when she was dozing and stood beside the bed for some time before slipping out just as she was waking.

An Orthodontist looked at her teeth and decided that, as she couldn't afford caps he would build up her broken teeth with ceramic fillings and hope for the best.

Her physical scars weren't the only ones she bore, she could not face being with a man. Will came to see her on his night off after she had been released from hospital. The news wasn't good, the police were not going to lay charges against the man that had beaten her up, because, as they put it, she was on the game. They decided not to proceed with her complaint of anal rape for the same reason, it would be too hard to get that charge to stick, given the circumstances. What he chose not to tell her was, that as a respected member of the judiciary, he could say whatever he liked and be believed. "How soon before you're up and about?" He asked.

"You mean how soon before I'm back on the game?" She emphasised 'back on the game' to let him know that she was ashamed of her situation and was in no hurry to return, if ever. "Look, I don't know. There are things that I need to get my head around. It may be days, then again it could take months."

"The longer that you stay away, the harder it will be for you."

"Look at my face do you think that men will risk being seen with this? I know that I can use make-up to cover it up, but at the moment the amount of make-up that I will have to use to plaster over the damage, the scars, will be a turn-off to the men that I used to attract."

"I need you back as soon as possible."

"You need me back, or is it your cut of my take that you need back."

"I care more about you than the money."

"I wish that I could believe that. I'll see you when I'm good and ready, okay?"

"Okay."

She wasn't ready to go back when she did, but her decision was based on a financial imperative, she needed money to pay her rent.

"Hi Will."

"Hi stranger. What'll it be?"

"What have you got?"

"The guy with the blue suit looks a possibility."

"Let's do it then."

She tried to get into it but he was turned off by her intake of breath when he touched her. "Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"When I touch you, you pull back from me and there's that intake of breath as if you're afraid of me. What have I done?"

"It's not you, it's me, I have a few problems in my life that need to be resolved. It's not your fault, but I was badly beaten a couple of months ago and I have only just been able to go out in public. I'll be okay soon."

"I don't know whether I can wait that long." He stood up to go.

"Stop, don't leave, come sit with me and talk to me, tell me about you and what you do for a job, it doesn't even have to be true."

After talking for half an hour she had relaxed enough to allow him to have sex with her. She knew that he was not satisfied, but he paid the full amount none the less. It set her wondering how long she could continue to do this.

As it turned out the radical change in her lifestyle was taken out of her hands. The flow of men through her door dried up to the point that Will stopped arranging men for her and brought in another girl, someone younger, prettier, and without the physical and emotional scars.

The offers to take her home declined to a trickle and she took to going to other hotels, to drinking more, and to being less selective with who she let take her home, but they still paid, just not as much, and life was once more a struggle. At one hotel she was confronted by a woman who screamed at her to 'fuck off and find another patch!' I'm not a whore, she told herself, and she believed it. But her mirror doesn't lie, not any more. She had to face the fact that she was a whore.

There was a knock on her door one morning. There was a man standing there with an envelope in his hand. "This is for you. You have two weeks to vacate this apartment."

"Why? Why am I being kicked out?"

"Because you haven't paid any rent for a month."

"I'll get you the money, give me some time. I'll get it." She sobbed.

She painted up her face and wished that for once the mirror would lie to her. It could at least tell her that the ravages of time meant nothing, that she was still a beautiful woman. But it was incapable of lying to her, it was incapable of airbrushing the reality of her life, a life once full of potential but now full of nothing.

The scars had faded and were barely visible, but the emotional scars still remained and she felt the hurt more deeply now that her beauty had faded, than she had ever felt in her whole life, with the possible exception of when Brian had told her that he wanted a divorce so that he could marry that other woman.

The mirror told her that she would be Juanita this evening. The heavy application of make-up, the bright scarlet slash of lipstick almost matching the bright red of the tight imitation leather top that was laced up the front to just under her breasts so that they, her breasts, were pushed up revealing upper slopes darkened by fake tan to match the rest of her body, a tan that was more orange than tan, but she couldn't afford the good quality product or a salon tan. Her black, also fake, leather tight skirt stopped barely inches below her lace panties. Her black fishnet stockings and stilettos completed this ensemble. She looked more like an aging porn star than the woman that she could have been if fate had not intervened in her life. Her mood sank deeper towards depression as she locked the door behind her and left for the hotel.

This was her last throw of the dice, if she didn't find someone who could help her, she would be homeless like so many others she had seen during her nightly walks.

Despair set in around mid-night, real despair. There had been no offers from men. Her mind, what remained still functioning, was going over her life as she trudged home along the darkened street. In doorways were piles of rags that contained the remnants of the humanity that she was about to join. Some acknowledged her passing while others withdrew into their own world. One such pile stirred and a head emerged. "Got a dollar lady, for a cup of coffee?" The head emerged even further from the shadows and there was something vaguely familiar about it. It shook to clear itself. "My god, I know you, you're Julia."