tagNonConsent/ReluctanceThe Escort and the Dirty Conscience

The Escort and the Dirty Conscience


I can still remember the empty echo of my stiletto heels, clicking against the marble floors as I rushed out of the Hazelton Hotel. I felt filthy. I didn't dare look at the impeccably groomed doorman as he nodded to me while I hurried past him.

"Have a good evening Miss," he said in his well-mannered way.

He was oblivious to the debased scene I had just left in Room 2412 as I had successfully turned my first trick as a high-class escort. Yet, why didn't I feel "high class" at all in that moment? My body ached; my pussy and ass, and mouth felt raw from all the dirty abuse I had reluctantly submitted myself to with Conrad and his kinky wife Tamara. I had walked into that beautifully expensive hotel room suite as a curious college student, but their initiation had left me feeling like an entirely different kind of Alison as I crossed the dark street and hailed a cab.

My mind was filled with images of the intensity of his eyes as he had ravaged every orifice of my body, transforming me into a living fuck doll to satisfy both his desires as well as the voyeuristic kinks of his socialite wife. I could still feel his hands digging into my flesh, his fingers thrusting into my pussy, his cock throbbing in my ass as he had pounded me over and over again. I blurted out my home address to the bored cab driver and settled back against the dirty leather seats to stare out the window and relive every moment. Why had this turned me on? How could I have found excitement in such raw depravity?

Sadistically, and as a form of self-punishment, I forced my thoughts to turn to my boyfriend Seth. He was home tonight, studying. I imagined him bent over his biology textbooks by lamplight, waiting for my call to let him know I had gotten home from work alright. He had assumed I was at my waitress job, of course. I imagined what he might do or feel if he had been witness to my transgressions. I tried to process my feelings. Surely I had to feel guilty for what I had done? But then why did I just feel a kind of numbness, like I had just gotten high off a sexual version of cocaine and wasn't quite ready to come down yet?

As an afterthought, I fumbled in my purse for my cell phone. I had to do some damage control. I typed out a fast text to Conrad, the client I had just left. "Please don't share the details of our evening and our potential future arrangements with Liana". I swallowed hard, pressing send before I could rethink my words. In a way, I had not only betrayed my boyfriend, but I had also inadvertently stolen a valued client from my friend. This had been the whole reason she'd asked me to this dirty favor for her, believing my naiveté and inexperience would ensure I would see this as a one-time deal. Somewhere along the way, my conscience had reconsidered this promise.

My roommate Liana... the one who had gotten me into this whole mess, was still nowhere to be found when I got home. I was relieved for this. I peeled off the clothes I had worn and left them in a pile on the floor, and put on my familiar white waffle-weave robe. I stashed the bag of dirty cash I had received for my "appointment" under my dresser as though it was stolen money. Then I went to the bathroom and filled the tub with fragrant bath salts. I made the water hot, hoping it would scald my skin just a little and remove the memories of my night. I could still feel his cum inside my ass, could still see the physical reminder of the bite of the leather belt he had tethered around my waist.

I let out a long drawn out sigh as I lowered myself into the hot water, feeling it burn deliciously and immediately flush my skin pink. I tried to empty my mind of thoughts. I had to make peace with what I had done. Everyone had a few crazy nights to be locked into a mental vault forever, and so I reconciled myself with the idea that this was mine. Nobody needed to know. It didn't have to change anything. I loved Seth and the life we were building together. This one act of sexual savagery didn't have to define me.

And yet the longer I soaked in that bath, the more I realized the memories would not fade away. My hands slipped down over my belly that still stung from the abuse of that belt he had used as a harness as he ruthlessly fucked me from behind.

Oh god. How he had fucked me...

I drew in my breath, unable to resist letting my hand drift lower to the tender folds of my pussy that were still swollen from his aggressions. Through all the dull pain, there was still an undeniable throbbing that he had begun and that still hadn't stopped. I slid two fingers into my aching slit, and sighed, leaning back against the tub, while my head lolled to the side. I had never felt so used, so degraded, and yet so completely alive in my sexuality as I had that night. I whimpered as I teased my clit under the hot perfumed bath water. Everything felt so sensitive. I licked my lips, and twisted one of my nipples with one hand, closing my eyes and once again letting the scene unfold in my mind.

Down further my hand went until it was tracing circles around my sore little asshole. I had never had anal sex before. I had always sworn it would be something I would give to Seth one day. In my mind I had imagined a special occasion to spoil him with letting him know that I was ready and willing for him to take my anal virginity. And yet, on this one unremarkable night, I had just given it away to a complete stranger. I had let him push his thick cock into my resisting ass, with his fingers digging deeply into my hips, steadying me for his assault. And I had taken it willingly, had even cried out for him to fuck me harder. I slid my finger into my raw little hole up to the knuckle, reveling in the memory of my dirty violation.

How his wife had loved watching her husband fuck me like that... nice and hard until he was grunting with pleasure, ready to fill me up with his hot thick cum. I could still feel it slick in my asshole as I thrust a second finger in as deeply as his cock had been. I couldn't decide what had been dirtier... the reality of what I had done, or the fact that I was still so excited by it. I moaned and settled back, sliding two fingers in and out, imagining it was his cock, while my thumb buzzed over my clit in rapid movements. I could feel my chest rising and falling, my nipples hard as stones as they breached the surface of the bathwater, feeling the cold air in sharp contrast to the hot water that stung my skin below. I kept up each separate yet hurried movement, biting my lower lip as I felt myself rising in my excitement level. Oh god... yes... I was so close... just a little more...

The sharp slam of the front door sounded like a resounding slap to my consciousness. I startled, drawing in my breath sharply. I paused in the silence, listening.

Soon enough, I could hear Liana calling my name.

"Alison? You home yet?"

Quickly I removed my hand from between my legs and nervously brushed back my damp blonde hair, somehow feeling nervous about seeing her after everything that had happened.

The doorknob to the bathroom door rattled before she swung it open nonchalantly, as though she had every right to invade my privacy. Perhaps knowing that I had finally taken that step and sold myself for money had removed any conservative pretences she might have indulged me with before.

My roommate Liana smirked at me from the doorway.

"Washing away your sin already?" she quipped. She wandered in all her long legged beauty and perched on the edge of the tub, completely casual to my flushed nudity. I squirmed in the tub, trying to slide down into the hot water and hide what evidence I feared my body might give away.

I couldn't meet her eyes. "It went fine." There was a long pause of silence before I added. "I'm not doing it again."

I'm not sure how much I believed my own words, but I felt compelled to say them. After all, Conrad was Liana's client. And despite having agreed in that moment to see him again, I didn't want her thinking I was interested in challenging her territory.

She cocked her head as though she doubted me instantly. "Never again, huh? So you didn't enjoy yourself?"

"No," I said too quickly. I laughed nervously. "I mean... it was... intense. Too intense for me, if you know what I mean. He's... twisted. And it was just this one favor. I mean I appreciate how glamorous you make it all sound, Liana. But we're very different people. And this whole scene... it's not for me."

I felt myself shrinking away from the way her eyes raked over me, as though testing my words for validity. Liana had a feral kind of blonde beauty that had always seemed a little cold to me. She was Russian by birth, although her voice had only retained but a slight hint of her eastern European heritage. She was tall, with small, tight curves that made her look more graceful and blue-blood than her real history of having spent most of her youth as an underage stripper and occasional model.

She sniffled slightly and tipped her head back, as though she too were exhausted to be bothered interrogating me any further. "Fucking cocaine", she whined, quickly forgetting my clumsy attempts to convince her I was still innocent to the underhanded workings of one of her best clients. She smiled at me. "Thanks Alison, for bailing me out of this afternoon. Although I'm sure your bank account is thanking me regardless of how much you try to convince me you didn't get off on the whole experience."

She looked down at me again, only this time I felt her eyes lingering in a softer way on the swell of my breasts, and then traveling down the outline of my naked body, barely concealed by the perfumed bathwater. I thought she might be looking for evidence of the kind of sex play I might have just indulged in, but I realized it wasn't quite that. She was... looking at me. Suddenly I felt more naked than I had before. I knew Liana was bisexual, but she had always considered me a prude by her standards. She had always regarded me as a little sister, but there was something different about her eyes in that moment. They wandered over my curves with unhurried appreciation, quickly increasing my level of discomfort.

Her full strawberry lips curled up in a smile, and she dipped one long finger into the bathwater, ever so close to my thigh, and then dragged it slowly around the form of my body while I held my breath.

"Did you cum tonight?" she teased.

I didn't know how to answer, afraid my admission would make her realize I had liked the entire experience a little too much. Finally I exhaled, and found my voice.


I knew she didn't believe me because she just let out a low chuckle and reluctantly stood up.

"I'm going to bed Alison," she sighed. "I'll leave you to your recollections."

"I'm not recollecting," I cried nervously. "I'm trying to forget!"

She laughed again and then turned her head back to look at me, her blue eyes dancing with a kind of bemused knowing. "Yeah...that's what I said too, after I turned my first trick".

My heart was pounding. I felt flushed with the heat of the bath water; dizzy from the rush of emotions I had been experiencing all night. And I was frightened that after all my conservative upbringing, and my meticulous commitment to education and a desire for a life I could be proud of... perhaps in the end, I was more like Liana than I ever wanted to imagine I could be.

In the days that passed, I tried to wipe my mind clean of the filthy memories of that Saturday night. In some instances I thought I was having some measure of success. I got back into my old routine of waitressing at the restaurant during my evenings, and spending my days off with Seth. When I was around him, I forced myself to stay in the present, and to not let my mind wander to where it always seemed to want to go.

Life seemed so different after my little adventure... so... benign. There was nothing to make my blood race or set me up on that sexual high I was starting to unconsciously crave. I held tight to Seth's hand as we crossed the dark street from the movie theatre we had just come from. Even the film he had chosen somehow seemed uninspired. It was the predictability of life that was beginning to weigh on me. It was the knowledge that this was just another Friday night being his sweet college girlfriend. I glanced at him as we walked back to his apartment. He was still the same Seth I had known and loved since junior high school. Why didn't it seem like it was enough any more?

Once inside his apartment, he flicked on the television, the way he normally did on a Friday night, but instead of cuddling up with him on the sofa, I went to the kitchen.

"Want a drink?" I called.

"Uhm... sure," he said, already distracted by his channel surfing.

I seized the bottle of vodka from the fridge and poured a shot for myself first. I drank one, and then another, enjoying the hot burn down my throat. Then I set about making two vodka sodas, rather heavy handed with my own. I was already feeling the beginnings of that first intoxicated swoon of inebriation. I found myself smiling and suddenly more relaxed.

I handed Seth his drink, and we clinked glasses. He looked up at me as I crawled towards him on the sofa, with a kind of bemused surprise.

"Already drunk after one sip?" he laughed, as I slid my hands up his thighs with uncharacteristic aggression.

"Maybe," I teased playfully. I didn't want to tell him I'd downed all those shots in the kitchen, but I'm sure he could taste the vodka on my tongue as I leaned in to kiss him.

I swung one of my legs over him so that I was straddling him, sitting in his lap. I smiled at him, and drank my entire vodka soda in one long gulp. He watched me with considerable confusion, as though unsure of what to make of my sudden turn of mood.

I set my glass down on the table by the end of the sofa and started to rock back and forth on the bulge that was growing in his jeans. Encouraged, I continued a rhythmic grinding against him, as I leaned in to kiss his neck and then lick my way up to his ear.

"I want to be your whore tonight," I purred into his ear, reaching down between us to rub his now rock hard cock. "What do you think about that?"

I could tell I had caught him off guard, and uncertain as to the right way to answer, he kissed me to avoid a response. I was unhinged by the alcohol coursing through my veins and the sudden desire to reclaim that sexual high I had been missing since that night that had heralded my downslide into a new kind of sensuality. I became suddenly aggressive. I pulled at the buttons on his shirt, breathing harder, as I rode against the hard bulge rising up to meet me. Seth seemed confused by my sudden lustful attack, as I unwittingly heard the soft pop of the buttons off his shirt in my haste to remove it.

"Hey," he said, grabbing hold of both my overzealous hands. "Careful. It comes off, you know. Relax!"

"I don't want to relax," I said with a lewd grin, not heeding his obvious warnings. "I want you to fuck me. Isn't that what you want? To get your hard cock inside me and teach your little slut a lesson."

From then, I wasn't paying attention to his obvious shock at the sudden transformation of his sweet girlfriend into a feisty, aggressive, sexual creature that he didn't seem to recognize. He lifted me up off his lap, standing with me. I immediately started to pull at him, hooking my leg over his hip.

"Come on, I want you to make me cum. I want to be your dirty girl tonight."

"You're drunk," he said with a laugh, although at the time, I didn't notice his words were laden with apprehension. He had never seen me like this, clawing at him, trying to incite him. I wanted him to pull me onto the bed and take control of me, fuck me roughly, treat me like his personal fuck-doll. My explorations with that single night with Conrad and Tamara had me wanting more than our usual lovemaking that seemed more soothing than carnal or passionate.

Our sex play was combative that night, me pushing for more, and him trying to temper the cagey desires that I had unexpectedly unleashed on him.

By the morning, the blistering pain of my hangover headache was evident the moment I opened my eyes and moaned. I rolled towards him, and realized he was awake and watching me.

"Feeling a bit of pain?" he asked.

"Yes," I sighed. "I guess I drank a little too much."

"No kidding. I was about to ask what you had done with my girlfriend last night. What gotten into you, Alison?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember the things you were saying... and doing?"

"Not... exactly. Why, what did I...?"

But to my surprise he got out of bed, and I was left facing his back as he put on his boxers. He seemed edgy, as though my performance last night had jarred him, and not in a good way. He picked up the shirt on the floor, and I remembered breaking the buttons off it, wondering if he was still annoyed with me. Still not facing me, he spoke again.

"Everything ok with you, Alison? I mean seriously." His voice was tight, as though bracing himself for my response.

"I'm fine," I said, my voice feeling raw, and unconvincing.

"You just don't seem like yourself these days... And obviously, I'm wondering."

"Everything is fine," I broke in, before he could continue asking me questions I didn't want to answer. "I'm just... tired from work, and...I'm sorry, I guess I just drank too much last night."

He turned to look at me briefly, his eyes revealing a concern that went beyond what had happened between us last night. "I just feel like the more time you spend with Liana... the more you start to get negatively influenced by her. You're not like her, Alison".

"I know that," I said softly, still trying to reaffirm this in my own mind. I didn't know what else to say to him.

He seemed to understand our conversation was at a standstill as well, and he just shrugged and walked out of the bedroom. Our relationship seemed at a precipice. I had to recommit myself to the life I knew, or else run the risk of losing what had been most important to me up until that one fateful night.

A week later, I was on my computer, looking up pricing on weekend getaways that I could surprise Seth with. He was away for a few days, visiting his family, and I had been deep in reflection, realizing how much I wanted to put our relationship back on track. I thought a nice getaway would be a great way to reconnect. Especially now that I had a financial cushion I could enjoy for the first time in my life. I was expecting just another relaxing evening at home, finalizing trip details, and curling up with a good movie. But what happened next set the whirlwind of temptation back in motion.

Liana walked through our front door and slammed it with dramatic aplomb.

"Get dressed baby! We're going to a fabulous party tonight!"

I looked up at her, and cocked an eyebrow. "Not interested. I'm staying in tonight."

Her blue eyes widened, "Oh come on! You haven't even heard the details. You remember Elliot Walker right?"

I shrugged. Liana was forever dropping names of rich and well connected men, as though everyone should know who they were, but of course I never did.

"He's having a party at his country house. It's an hour's drive out of the city, but he's sending the limo to pick us up. I already told him you were coming. It's going to be incredible. They're having the Kobe beef flown in special from Montreal, Cristal champagne, and the best networking of anyone who's anyone..."

I half listened to her drone on about all the glamorous details, but kept my gaze firmly fixed on the Bahamas vacation package I was eyeing, trying to think of Seth, and I relaxing on the beach together, rediscovering our own brand of normalcy.

"I can't Liana," I said finally, when there was a pause in the conversation.

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byDancing_Doll© 12 comments/ 170281 views/ 87 favorites

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