Soul For Sale

The dingy room was gnawing at my chest as I waited. The couch's hard cushioning ached my tailbone after "relaxing" on it for over an hour. I wondered if it was semen that got caked on this couch that made it hard and plastic-y. It was difficult to just accept that this hardening of the cushion was just from regular wear-tear. The room was so dim, that one could not even fathom flicking through a magazine or a coffee table book of any sort. Never mind, for fancying such unrealistic expectations on this seat, where I should be prepping myself just like many others do. I must discard my regular panties, juice myself thoroughly add lube if required, and keep doing it until the name is being called.

'Rina! RINA!'

I put on my micro thong (to be discarded soon enough) and began the show.

Before stepping up, I was given a brief requirement from the customer. I had to work around it and improvise as required.

The red light in the room gave off its usual ominous feeling. No matter how many times I enter this room, it always manages to make itself feel new and induce anxiety. I got to the center of the room, smiling an Oscar-winning smile, before starting the show. Only the first couple of minutes are painstakingly slow, the second half goes by in a snap as the customers are already done by the time I have only taken off my micro bra or in a little tough case, a minor fingering and I hear them pressed against the glass, jerking themselves vigorously.

Sometimes I get paid a bonus, other times I am harassed. They try to sniff me, fondle my boobs or even come up with propositions to fuck me.

Some people are nice. They are perverts nonetheless but nice. They pay their bonus, even chat for a while, or indirectly ask if I gave "extra" personal services. My occasional denial would earn me giggly laughs and awkward departures.

Midst the chaos of the choices of my life, a chance encounter swerved me out of my league and had me stand at the threshold of what I deserved and my reality.

~

A handsome payment was thrown at me by Karen, stating that a female customer asked for my service. After pocketing a quarter of the money and throwing some homophobic slurs into the air, she started walking off.

'You didn't tell me the requirements?'

'Uh? She said she would say those herself. Go. She is waiting.'

We met on that same pathetic couch. She wasn't sitting on it. I could sense, she was avoiding the couch like a plague. Her presence in that drab room, made it appear gloomier and I felt pathetic about sitting on that couch too, so I remained on my feet.

'You can tell your requirements to me.' I said.

She looked at my face and said the most bizarre thing I have ever heard.

'Pretend as if it's your bedroom,'

'And?'

'Undress as you would at the end of the day and just lie down on the bed.'

'Naked?'

'Yes,'

'That's it?'

'Yes,'

I could not hold my laugh, thinking she was an actual first-timer and a little shy, perhaps.

'This place doesn't give off a cozy home vibe. You know?'

'I know,' she said with a straight face that made me reconsider the laugh I had seconds ago.

'You pretend either way,' she spoke again before I could say anything.

'Ok.' I said and walked off.

Well, Easy job.

From inside the room, through the glass, I saw her standing. She must have decided to avoid using the provided loveseat in the viewing room as well. I started with the play pretend look on my face, and walked slowly through the room, touching and sighing. The job might have been easy but it was boring. I decided to improvise and start looking at her occasionally, to give her the benefit of the doubt- a facade as well. All voyeurs want to get caught. Don't they? Some sickness inside them makes them want to be discovered and accepted. Or maybe I was wrong. Because she didn't look impressed. Instead, there was a serene expression on her face. She was looking at me all right. But she wasn't looking at me at the same time. Standing in her perfect little red jump-suit, she continued to stare.

I started stripping and got into the bed with a seducing arch to my body.

It was weird to be on this bed and not touch myself. I averted my gaze just a little, only to a space where she once stood.

Karen handed me some more money, congratulating me on my big milestone and slapping playfully on my back.

~

She was back a week later but this time my easy money came with a catch.

'There is someone who would like to draw you,'

'Who?'

'My employer,'

I could not hold my laughter.

'I was asked to find an ideal body type for them to draw and you might just be the perfect fit for the job,' she said with a note of urgency, the most unrestricted I have ever seen.

'You will be paid hourly. Your fees are negotiable,'

'Um...what exactly is it that I have to do?'

'Nothing that would stretch your boundaries,' she proceeded to hand me a card, only with a name and a number. 'Call me once you've made up your mind,'

She cleared her throat as if waiting for me to say something. But I had nothing to say.

'Please don't take too long,' those were her words after which she was gone.

~

I called her. A little experiment and out-of-the-box experience never hurt anybody. I was given an address and a time on a weekday. I went with it because the weekends were already hectic for me in the club.

I stepped out of the cab and found myself standing in front of the huge skyscraper. It stood behind a big silver door, big enough for two humans to push it; two for each leaf of the door. Rich people and their unnecessary efforts to ground people below their status.

It would be an understatement to say, I was nervous. But the thought of earning good money fueled my brain and I gave her another call.

I waited outside the door for a whole five minutes, after which the door opened. I saw no man. No security guard. Nothing could prove my poverty then and there than me forgetting about automatic doors.

The woman saw me chuckling and waited for me to regain my composure.

"Oh, sorry."

"Should we go in?" she asked. No "Hello". No "How are you".

"Sure,"

I followed her in through the silvery door and stopped at the glass door entrance to the skyscraper. Calling this infrastructure, an apartment, would be downright humiliation to the architect.

She tapped in some code and the glass door opened, on its own. I knew this would happen.

The elevator too was spacious and had a lot of numbers for the floor. I could see that we were climbing to the floor which was in its twenties. We got out of the elevator on the twenty-fifth floor. The wall in front of my face had only two numbers 2501 and 2502 and two arrows marked left and right beside them. We followed the left arrow and towards the room 2501.

The door to 2501 wasn't that impressive. I mean it looked sturdy, other than that it was plain and gray with a small keyhole, under which was a long handle to open it.

She used a singular key to open the door and we entered.

'Wait here," she said and I think she meant to wait by the humongous couch which was a mile away from the door.

The place was a white void. The glass windows, large and vividly displaced other similar skyscrapers and the highway nearby. Other than the shine provided by the sun, the place was bland. But at least, the "employer" appeared rich. It was the right call to make.

I heard a door open and close somewhere and averted my gaze. I was still standing by the door, so I took a couple of steps in. I recognized one woman walking towards me, the one who visited me at the club. In front of her walked another woman, a little short in stature, brownish hair in a messy bun and delicate small face. She wore a black camisole under an off-white fluffy knit shrug, open at the front, and matching long pants.

"Miss. Rina. I hope you found the place without any difficulty," she said.

"Absolutely. Who would miss this?" I said awkwardly straightening my back.

"I am --" she introduced herself, bringing forth her hand.

We shook hands.

Her hand was squishy and damp. She must have washed them before meeting me.

"This is Lizzie. You have met her."

"Yes, of course,"

She didn't raise her hand or smile. She just stood behind her "employer" and tilted her head in my direction. I gave another of my awkward smiles.

"We should get to work,"

I was taken aback but when she stepped aside clearing the path for me, I blindly agreed.

She took the lead, and Lizzie and I followed her close behind.

She walked into a white door and I did too.

The room was huge and only had a single queen-sized bed in the middle. Right beside the door was a long wooden desk with lots of scattered paper, pencils, and incomplete charcoal sketches. The most astonishing thing about the room was the countless sketches pasted all over the walls. Except for the accent wall behind the bed, all three walls were filled with pencil or charcoal sketches of varying sizes.

Impulsively, I walked close to the nearest wall, the one above the desk, and looked at those sketches carefully. They were of women. Naked women. Some were close-ups of breasts, some of pussies, and in others, women were just naked, nothing explicit. I glued myself to the wall and walked taking in all the sketches. There were so many women. Some had their full body drawn with faces hidden, while some women had their faces along with their private parts on the paper.

"Do you like what you see?"

She got my attention. And Lizzie wasn't in the room with us anymore.

"So this is what she meant when she said, someone wants to draw you," I said and smiled at the hostess.

"You can call me, Ana,"

I was confused.

"I know I introduced myself as someone else before. But Ana is my alter-ego. Ana will draw you. I would like it if you address me by that name,"

Artists do have their set of quirks.

"Sure," I smiled.

"You can sit on the bed," Ana gestured me to do so. And she took the wooden chair by the desk.

When she sat by the desk, it seemed as if she belonged there. The desk reached right to the level of her elbow. She placed her hand on the desk and picked up her pencil.

"Do you know why it had to be you?"

"Lizzie never gave me the details. She just said my body shape was ideal or something like that." I confessed.

Although I walked in for the money, now I could not help but wonder if I made a mistake.

"Your foot-" a smile crept on her profile.

Instinctively, I looked at my feet.

"You have a scar," she declared as if she knew more about me than I did. An eerie shudder ran up my spine.

I looked up at her. She appeared to be scribbling something on a piece of paper. Then, I looked back down to my feet.

"My scar?"

I reached down and touched the long vertical scar that ran above the heel of my right leg.

"What about it?" I asked.

"If I am not wrong, it's from an Achilles tendon repair surgery-" she left her sentence mid-air and looked up from her desk and at me.

"Yes,"

"Lizzie saw it the day she met you at the club."

I remembered arching my back and leaning forward, kicking my leg. she must have seen my scar then. But that that dimly lit room. How could-

"How did you injure yourself?" she pulled me back to present.

I took a deep breath in.

"Why do you want to know?"

She wasn't just sitting there and talking, she was stirring something deep inside my heart, something that I didn't want to explore.

"My apologies for being so direct." she got up from her chair. "If you'll just allow me to-" She gestured for me to get up as well.

On the wall opposite to that desk, which was covered in sketches, suddenly revealed a door knob. I hadn't noticed the door at first glance. Ana held the door knob and it opened with a clank. A sudden panic reverberated through my chest.

The room had a similar scent to the room we were currently standing in. She walked in, turned on the lights and I followed in after a moment of hesitation. Even in sight, the room looked no different. It was white with a bed before the accent wall but an easel stood at the center with a blank canvas propped on it. The walls held even more pencil sketches but upon close inspection, I could see, they weren't mere nude sketches. Within those drawings were carefully integrated scars.

A woman captured on an a5 sheet of paper showed a close-up of her face, on which a scar ran down from the top left and ended at her right cheekbone. Another woman had such beautiful breasts but a thick scar ran down the valley on her chest. Some had slanted scars on the sides of their tummy while others had tiny scars at the corner of their eyes. And many more places. I never knew scars could be found in such many places.

One thing I realized when I walked into this room. If the outer room was Ana's passion, then this room was her obsession.

She cleared her throat and I turned around.

"It's not like I don't like my women naked. But women with scars are my favorite," she said as her eyes trailed from my face to my feet.

"Favorite?"

"You still haven't figured it out?" a smile deepened on her lips.

"No, I get it,"

We got out of the room and she shut it behind us.

"So, will you tell me?"

We resumed our positions like before. She took the chair while I sat on the bed. But this time, her torso was towards me.

I could hold back a sad smile. It wasn't something worth mentioning. I just wanted to forget it. With the doctor's final stitch on that wound, a chapter of my life was also sealed shut. Was my body not enough to put up for sale? Now I was on the verge of selling my soul.

"You don't have to force yourself," she was now standing in front of me.

"You can take your time."

Her delicate fingers reached my face and she gently caressed my cheek.

"I understand scars don't usually come with pleasant tales,"

She got down on her knees.

"May I touch it?"

What does a person say to such a polite intrusion?

I nodded.

She picked my right foot by its heel. While she held it in her left hand, she caressed my raised scar with her right hand. Her middle and index fingers traced the smooth surface and soon joined her ring finger. She looked as if on the verge of kissing it. She was looking at it so intently as one looks at a fully bloomed flower.

She turned her gaze up at me.

"May I kiss you here?" her voice had turned husky.

I immediately thought of the woman with the facial scar and then the one with the mark on her chest. If that's how delicate was she to my feet, I could not fathom, how gentler she must have been towards them.

She was waiting for my permission.

I nodded again.

Her eyes sparkled and then went back to my feet. Her breath fanned my feet and moments later, I felt her kiss me. It felt wet, she must have used her tongue. I shuddered at the sensation. She then gently placed my foot back down and got up.

"I had never seen something like this before," she smiled.

I stood up as well, feeling a strange and powerful urge to do something.

"Are you alright? Did I say anything wrong?" her eyebrows furrowed.

"I feel like kissing you," I declared.

She averted her gaze towards the desk and blushed.

"Here," she extended her hand towards me.

It had a piece of paper.

With a little shaky hand, I took the paper from her.

At the center of the paper, was a pencil sketch. It appeared like a magnified passport-size photo but black and white.

I looked back and forth between the paper and her. She kept her smile steady.

"This is beautiful,"

"Really?" she grinned.

"Yes, Thank you very much for this,"

I stood there with that piece of paper for what felt like a long time.

"Will I hear from you again?" she asked with her signature smile.

~

Lizzie called me a cab and saw me off to the big silvery door.

Sitting at the back of the cab, I could not help but stare at the sketch. It was no doubt, the woman in black and white was me. It was me, alright. But my eyes, my lips...my face, they appeared uncanny to me. My sketch looked like I was looking at myself in an enchanted mirror.

I folded the paper with care and placed it in my wallet.

~

Half a week later, we met again.

I entered the premises just like before, except Lizzie had a different formal outfit and now I knew her name.

And I met Ana just where I had seen her for the first time. She was wearing just a camisole and beige linen pants. Her hair was let loose this time. The moment our eyes met, I felt like I had been tamed, had the tiny sketch of mine something to do with this sensation?

"Hello, Rina," Ana walked towards me and Lizzie left our side.

"Hello, Ana,"

She smiled.

"Shall we?" Ana directed the path, the way she had done before.

My heart started beating like crazy and my mouth ran down. I swallowed and licked my lips. I followed her and we were back in her atelier, enclosed within white walls and among hundreds of black and white sketches.

Everything felt like a deja vu, except when she shut the door with a sharp click.

I turned around to face her.

"I feel different today," I confessed.

She took small steps towards me and stood close to my body.

"Different. How?" she asked looking into my eyes.

She held my shoulders in her hands and gently rested her head on my chest.

"I feel..." I heaved a sigh, making sure not to breathe in too deep.

"Tamed?" she offered.

She stole my word.

"Yes," I said and tried placing my hands on her waist.

But she freed herself before the touch and stared intently into my eyes.

"An animal tends to let its guard down when someone acknowledges its scar,"

I could not tell if I was being belittled.

Then she smiled.

"Aren't we mere animals?"

"The scar which I saw was not intended to be seen. Was it?"

I curled my hands around her waist. She placed her hands gently on my upper arms.

I leaned in to kiss her.

What strong force pulled me in, I could not tell. What was driving me, I could not fathom. But I knew I had to kiss her. I was starving to feel her lips on mine.

Our lips touched twice before I intruded and took her bottom lip between mine. Her mouth tasted like coffee. I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her delicate frame once before relaxing my arms.

She slipped her hands down to my waist and after searching for the hem of my top her hands slid in, touching my skin.

It tickled me when her fingertips made contact with me. Her hands then roamed the sides of my waist and last ribs.

She broke the kiss, took my top off, and threw it on the floor, before coming back to me.

I didn't realize we were moving until the back of my knees touched the bed and we fell on it. Loose hairs draped her face, I tucked those behind her ear before kissing her again. She placed her elbows on either side of my face and I cupped her face and kissed her lips some more before bringing my lips to her neck.

The soft skin on her neck looked ravishing and she smelled like cinnamon. With each breath and swallow, her neck moved, bringing in dimension. Carefully, I pulled the skin between my lips and let them free, inch by inch.

I could not help but think she tasted and smelled like coffee and cinnamon, two of my favorite things.

I brought my hands down and felt her chest. I felt a puddle of wetness bubbling in my panties.

"Fuck, How are they so soft?" I had to say it.

Upon my remark, she propped herself on her palms and smiled at me. So, I wasn't the first person to comment on that.

I lowered the shoulder of the camisole and sucked on her nipples. When I circled my mouth around her left nipple and flicked it with my tongue, I felt a slight dizziness.