The Call Girl

"I see," he said.

Somehow I wanted this to go fast, so I went straight to the point, "So where do you want us to do it."

"Ooh you're a feisty one," he looked at me with a scheming smile, "Up the stairs, first door to the right, I'll be there in just a second."

I walked up the stairs passing more paintings, until I arrived to the bedroom. The bedroom was huge, with the bed being large enough for four people. The sheet had the same bright yellow colour that the walls had, almost as if it meant something for him. To the right of the bed was a cupboard – don't really want to know what was in it. To the left was a window, which I immediately walked towards as I felt I needed some air.

What was this feeling I had, fear and some sort of panic was coming over me. It was as if my body was telling me something, but I just shook it off. I heard the footsteps of Theodore approaching the door, and got myself into the bed, preparing myself.

He opened the door bringing with him a champagne bottle and two glasses, "Warm up," he said. I smiled and nodded at him to get into the bed, which he did. He lay beside me and poured me some champagne, we clanged our glasses together and drank a sip each enjoying ourselves. But somehow I felt very uneasy around him.

"I have a question," he asked.

"What kind of question?" said I as I kept making flirtatious signs to him.

"How much do you know about what I like?" he was asking me about his fetish.

"Well I know you like it a bit rough, and that you want me to resist you. Is that about right?"

"Yeah, that is about it," he smiled and tried to look at me in the eyes, but he was somewhat shy. It was strange, in fact he did not look like one of those who liked it rough. But the strangest thing of all, was that I felt uneasy around him.

"I use the code word, Wellington," I said.

"What?" he asked.

"If I feel you are being too rough, I'll use the word Wellington to tell you to stop. Is that ok."

"Oh, yeah that's fine, Wellington huh?" he was nervous.

"Yeah, Wellington."

"Ok then," he launched his glass of champagne against the wall, and grabbed me by the throat. The surprise was so shocking that I almost yelled the word immediately, but I felt I could take it.

He held me tight with one hand, and used the other one to grab my arm, I acted out as he wanted me to and began to scream, "Yeah just like that Bitch!" he yelled.

The shy young man had turned into a sex-craved rapist, he was so into his fantasy that I felt maybe I should just stop it now, but something inside of me told me not to. He began to lick my neck and chest, drooling all over me as if he was insane. I struggled against him on purpose, making sure he'd think I really was getting raped by him.

"Fuck yeah, you think you can get away from me!" he began stripping my shirt off and fondling my breasts. I could feel that fear of mine coming back up again, there was something familiar in how he was doing me.

My tits were out, and he began to lick and suck my nipples off – as well as biting them. I kept my screams to a balance so to not actually get some neighbours over to see what was going on. He kept holding me down as he sucked and spat on my tits, while his free hand began stroking me between my legs. I clenched them and resisted him, but he would just spread them open again and continue to stroke me.

This would go on for about a minute or two, until he eventually began unbuttoning his pants. I was able to catch a glimpse of the bulge between his legs, it was huge. He lowered his pants down and held his dick in his hand. He then sat on top of me, with his dick hitting my face. It smelled ripped and strong, "Open that fucking mouth of yours whore!" he said to me. I kept my mouth closed and waved my head away from his penis, but he grabbed me and forced my mouth open and pushed his dick into my mouth.

It tasted strong, very strong, almost as if it hadn't been washed. I could feel it vibrating in my mouth as he kept going back and forth, entering and exiting my mouth – he was really getting off of this. I kept gurgling and choking on his dick as he was moaning and sending profanities towards me. I felt in a bit of a disadvantage right now, as he was preventing me from uttering a word, luckily I still had my legs which I could use to get him off in case I needed to.

"Ahh Shit, shit I am coming, take it, take it all down!!" His sperm poured out of him and down my throat, I gulped as much as I could, but eventually it overfilled my mouth and spurred out.

In that instance a small flash came in front of me, a piece of memory, almost as if I had done this very same thing once before. Sure I had swallowed many clients, but something was different with this one. He dragged his cock out of my mouth and kept moaning, his cock had not yet turned flaccid, and he was still up for more.

"Yeah, that was good, just like that girl," he said.

"Just like that girl?" I thought, what girl was he talking about, another call girl he had before me? He held me down and began stripping my pants and underwear off, but he stopped and looked at me, as if he was waiting for something. I had my head full of thoughts and had become a bit daisy from his load that I forgot to act as rape victim. Luckily I realized it before he lost interest and began struggling again against him.

He smiled and continued stripping my underwear off, until I had nothing left down there but my stockings. He crawled down over me and aimed his still erect penis over my pussy, but I'd close my legs together and scream. Unfortunately he just used his legs to spread mine open again, and began to aim his penis at my vagina, while his other hand kept holding me still.

"Here it comes!" He forcefully thrust his penis into me, I could feel the tip of his head passing through me like a torpedo, and for a while I actually enjoyed it. He kept holding me as he kept entering and exiting me, grabbing my legs and licking my face at the same time. But he had stopped yelling, it was almost as if he was calming down – wanting only to be hold tight and caressed.

We both moaned, while he kept piercing me with his man-hood. It was somewhat satisfying, and relaxing. I kept faking his role-play, but the more I did it the less he cared, we were just having sex now.

He began to hold me more gently, and kept filling me with his penis with certain intervals. He held me around and pressed my head to his chest, making me smell his sweat more clearly. But then something odd happened. He began to cry while still fucking me, shouting strange phrases.

"I am so sorry, oh god forgive me," he would cry.

I actually began to feel a bit uncomfortable when he said that, "What are saying?" I asked.

He began to pound me harder as his cries became more apparent, "I didn't want to do it, they made me," he kept entering and exiting me.

I felt scared again, so I told him to stop, "Wellington," I'd say, but he did not hear me. He would just keep on going faster and faster, I could feel that he was ready to cum.

"I-I have to shoot, I have to finish!" My arms went numb and my legs were moving on their own, it was strange. It was like my body didn't want me to stop, as if I craved this. A hard hitting-blunt shot of sperm poured into me, and in that moment something was revealed to me.

A smell, a smell I recognized – his perfume. As he was pouring his semen into me, my eyes caught up with his, there was something familiar with him. As if I finally could see the entire picture now, but then a wild storm inside of me burst. An orgasm so strong that I grabbed around him and screamed at the top of my breath, I had never felt something like this before. It was like my heart had woken up from a deep slumber, a dead being living again, a force of life running through my body.

We held each other tight, and for once in a long time I kissed someone on the lips – I felt relieved. We remained like this for some time, kissing and caressing each other, until he fell down on my bosom asleep.

I knew what I had to do, I knew what was going on. He was deep asleep on top of me, but I was able to slip away from under him. I walked towards my handbag which lay on the floor, while his semen kept dripping out of my vagina. I took the gun and aimed it at him.

"Do you have any idea?" I said loudly enough so he'd woke up, "Do you know what you did to me?"

He was calm and sat straight up on the bed, looking at me with his blue eyes, there was no fear in him he just smiled.

A tear fell from my eye as I asked the same question again, "Do you know what you did to me?"

"Yes," he said.

I gasped and felt weak in my knees, it was as if my chest had been hit with a plywood and taken my breath away, "Why?" was the only word that flowed in my head.

"We were young, I was young," he said calmly.

My tears were now pouring out of me like a river, I could feel my gasps getting more wild, "Who – Who were there?"

He covered his exposed penis with the sheet and said, "Do you remember that night? Can you remember that night?"

"I remember the pain!!" I screamed, "The life leaving me! You killed me that day!" my mind was full of anger, all I could feel was that pain I felt eight years ago, "Who were there?"

"I remember that night, every day I do. I can't forget it even if I wanted to, the way we treated you, the way I treated you," his eyes looked down and somehow he looked remorseful of what he had done, "I was drunk, and you were there. Ivan wanted to play, but you fought back. And he just got so mad."

"Who is Ivan! Tell me who he is," my hand was shaking, the gun was getting harder to hold up.

"I can't," he looked at me again, "I am not a good guy remember."

The trigger was easy to squeeze, but the recoil was hard to control. The bullet hit him directly under the throat, he slumbered backwards with blood gushing out of him. He lay still on the bed and just stared at me. His mouth moved as the life was leaving him, no words just a mime, "Thank you."

He died calmly with blood leaving his body, forming a pool right on top of his chest. His eyes closed and his life seized. Shock came over me faster than I thought, and my knees crumbled. I fell and began sobbing over what I had discovered, and what I had done. But my body knew I had to get out of here, the shot had probably been heard, and I had no time to cry.

I took my clothes and ran down the stairs, not realizing that I forgot my underwear. I ran out the front door, naked, with my gun in one hand and my clothes in the other. It was raining hard, but I could not stop, I just ran towards my car, without looking back.

I locked myself in the car, and began crying on the steer wheel, "He was one of them," I said over and over, "One of the people that did me in," I thought. His smell, his perfume, it was his perfume that revealed him. Clide perfume, he reeked of it, "How could I just let him touch me," My mind was gone, it was as if I had been drowned in guilt and disgust. Except for one thing that remained in my head, the name, "Ivan."

To be continued.