The Game

There are a set of untold rules in The Underground. One of those rules is "If you lose control, you lose The Game." Janice knew that rule very well.

It was how she had survived and made it to this day, after all.

It was 2:30 AM, on the corner next to the local strip club. Janice was standing there, watching as late-night folk made their way home or was still getting some of the good nightlife. She didn't care much about what others were up to since everyone did what they wanted and when they wanted.

To her, the only thing that mattered was the customers of the 'services' that she offered.

She didn't really remember when she first started this nightly service, but it quickly became something of a drug, and she always wanted more and more.

The ironic thing was that she wasn't doing this for the money. While it was nice to have some extra cash, she didn't really need it.

She already had a stable job, no debts, and was just about as average in financial gain as many others at her workplace.

So why was she doing this? Why was she standing on the corner, dressed in nothing but a red lace bra and red silk panties with fishnet stockings, black high heels and wearing a blue short-haired wing and a bunny mask?

It was simple.

She loved the thrill of sex with strangers. To her, there was something about having rough sex with someone that she didn't know that filled her soul with a foreign feeling of euphoria. It didn't matter who came to her: married men, drug dealers, old seniors, ex-cons.

She willingly had sex with anyone, as long as they had the money to pay her.

She wore the mask to hide her face, in the case that she happened to run into someone who she worked with. It had happened a few times, and they had all been great fucks. It made her feel good knowing what some of her co-workers' cocks looked like, even if they didn't know that she knew.

There was also a time when a group of men came to her for her services, saying things like they would make her their bitch, and she merely smirked at their claim. They went at it all night long, and she had to skip work to continue pleasing the men.

She had never swallowed so much cum before in her life, and she was sure that a few of them even came inside her, but the thrill of being in the hands of total strangers made her ok with that fact.

She would allow anything, as long as they could pay the appropriate amount of money, and these men had that and more.

But...despite all of this, she always held onto one rule: Never lose control.

It was one of the unwritten rules of The Underground. Those set of rules weren't taught to those who venture there. They were experienced.

Simply put: if you were to work in The Underground, there was a game that was always being played, and the number one rule was that you should never lose control. The very instant you do, you've lost the game, and you'll never regain control ever again.

Janice knew that rule very well. No matter who she had sex with or how many she had sex with, she would always remember that she was the one in control, and she kept up with that rule.

Unfortunately, rules were made to be broken eventually.

A car pulled up right in front of Janice, a simple black Mustang, and the driver pulled down the window to reveal themselves.

It was...a man. A black man.

Janice had been with black men before, but for some reason, she had a feeling that he would be different.

"How much for you?" He simply asked. He had a deep voice, but it had a bit of youth to it. He must've been in his mid-20s, maybe later.

"$200 for one hour," Janice replied just as simply. She was a bit surprised that he got right to the point, but didn't pay any mind to it.

"Ok. Let's go. I know a place." The man said as he opened the door, allowing Janice to climb in. She calmly got into the car as she closed the door, noting the man to be very average looking. He had a little afro and a small goatee, and his attire was a collared shirt and a vest with jeans and charcoal shoes.

"Ok. You can call me Janice." She offered her hand, wanting the money so that she could tell that he was serious.

To her shock, he handed her $600. "I'm Kyle, and it looks like I have you for three hours, Janice." The man smiled, and Janice could've sworn that she saw something in Kyle's smile that hinted something interesting but didn't comment on it as they went on their way.

~/~

They arrived at the place, a simple hotel, and Kyle helped Janice out of the car and into the room that he was staying in.

From there, Janice had a feeling that something had changed in Kyle the minute he locked the door and turned to her.

But before she could comment on it, he grabbed her and took her lips with his own.

Janice knew of those kinds of guys, the ones who love to foreplay before the main event. She had been with plenty of people who went about sex in different ways, and so she let him do whatever he wanted.

He had the money, after all.

But for some reason, it was different with Kyle.

He didn't let up to give her any freedom. Instead, he kept up his assault, putting his lips on any part of her body that he saw, and in that instant, Janice knew why he was different.

He also knew about The Game, and he wasn't going to lose control. She was.

She tried to regain control, but when he pushed her on the bed...she knew.

She knew...that she had lost control.

She had lost The Game.

And the next morning, Janice's nightlife...ended.