There are some sex workers who, on the surface at least, seem glamorous in what they do. Flying to exotic locations, having fancy meals paid for by clients, and all to be companions for a night, or a weekend.
You were not one of them.
You lived in a broken down studio with your boyfriend. Constantly one bad day from eviction, no family to help. And despite how much you love him, it’s not like he can help much. I guess this is why you don’t get tied down so early in life, isn’t that right pet?
It all started that last day. You know the one, where you couldn’t afford to eat if you wanted to keep the electricity on. You were crying in the corner, looking for that one last thing you could trade for at least a decent meal, but you came up empty.
So you decided to sell the last thing you had access to. Yourself.
When he was away at class you snuck out, determined to at least find something not humiliating. You’re plenty pretty enough, so why can’t you be like the girls you see online for a day?
The problem is none of this is ever done in a day, and the more desperate you are the more you’re taken advantage of. Just like the rest of your life. Still, you were able to find someone who would at least give you something. Maybe 50$, citing the risk of you being a cop.
But he hurt you, didn’t he? He choked you as he pummeled your tight little slit. He made you cry, and that made him cum. And in the end he stiffed you half of it, citing that you didn’t feel good enough to justify the full amount.
But at least you had something. And no one found out.
Or at least you did have something, until a car accident took out that small scrap of an advantage you had given anything for.
And so you looked again. You spent more time on it, trying to find something reputable. But the truth is you look so much better screaming for it to stop, don’t you? Its like your body was made for it. You got a decent shot this time, even if they recorded it. Even if they showed how wet you got when you were crying.
But it was never just going to be that one time. Was it kitten? You refused to sign anything with your real name, and so you could only take what was offered. Pretty soon you were getting gang raped in your boyfriends bed.
And thats the first time you came, wasnt it?
It was also the first time you were stiffed. Normally they’d at least throw a couple of crumpled bills at you afterwards, but not this time. After all, why would they if you enjoyed yourself so much?
But you were desperate. You took whatever you could get. You were violated on camera over and over. Sometimes for money, sometimes not even for that.
And you learned to cum from it.
Soon, even that boyfriend of yours, who you gave up everything for, couldn’t get you off. You tried, you really did. But in the end you went back to an ex client who stiffed you. You didn’t even ask for pay, did you? Just to be able to think straight for a bit.
And that was the time you got pregnant. That one final spurt of cum into your tight little slit that ruined you forever. Eventually your boyfriend noticed, claiming he’d take responsibility. But you know he couldn’t. So you went out one last time.
And you quickly found what you were looking for. Someone who wanted that last bit of betrayal. Who tied your boyfriend down and made you lick his assholr and stroke his cock with the same hand your promise ring was on. You knew for a fact that he wasn’t the father, but the look on your exes face as he came to that conclusion made you fucking explode, even as you were crying.
How it ends is up to you pet. Do you really think this new man would treat you better than all the others? Or are you going to have to keep spiraling, finding some way to take care of yourself when no one else wants you?
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/tttait/selling_yourself_ncprostitutionbreeding