The Rookie Prostitute (closed)

[WildCherry19]

Candy sat in the back of the limousine, her petite 19-year-old frame squeezed into a flattering black dress that was perhaps a little lower-cut, a little shorter, and a little tighter than her parents would've appreciated. However, ever since she'd been going out with her new boyfriend, they had wanted nothing to do with her. Rodney, on the other hand, loved it when she wore dresses that left little to the imagination.

The limo driver kept casting glances back at her as she sat there alone, her expression growing panicked.

Candy was reading over the text message yet again, still trying to comprehend the meaning. "Don't come out here. We're through. If you get in that limo, you're paying for it."

He sends her this message, when just yesterday she did a wire transfer of all her money into his account? He said he'd add her to the account after she got to L.A., so she hadn't been worried about transferring all of it, every last penny. He'd even said she didn't need to bring her clothes: he'd buy her a whole new wardrobe when she had moved to live with him.

Now, she was sitting in the back of a limo without a dime, her only possessions stuffed into her purse. Looking out the window, she was in a frightening looking neighborhood, and it was just starting to rain. Candy refused to let herself cry, but she continued staring at the phone screen, biting her lip to keep back the tears.

 

[AnotherOldGuy]

For the third time in less than an hour, the Chauffeur asked, "Miss ... do you have a destination...?"

He'd initially set off for Dunston, which his passenger had said was all she knew about where she was supposed to be. She'd told him at the airport, "He said grab a limo, head for Dunston, and he'd text me."

And now here they were, still moving east away from LAX, already through Dunston ... and apparently still no text. He was beginning to feel like he was being jerked around; or, even worse, set up for a robbery. They weren't exactly in the best of La La Land's neighborhoods and, in fact, he never came here to pick up clients, only drop them off from other locations.

"Miss, I'm sorry to do this..." he said, slowing the stretch and pulling a U-turn in a wide, unobstructed intersection. "I have another client waiting for a pickup, so ... I'm going to head his direction ... and when you get your text from your friend ... well, we'll figure out what to do with you at that point, okay?"

In all honesty, he didn't give a rat's ass about whether it was okay with her or not. His client was a lot of things -- wealthy, well connected, and very generous when it came to tipping his drivers -- but one thing he wasn't was forgiving about being left standing on the corner, waiting for his ride.

As they continued on, the Chauffeur -- with his eyes masked by dark glasses -- glanced back at Candy again, this time allowing his gaze to set upon her cleavage for a long moment. He began to wonder whether his client offered Finders Fees and began fantasizing about how he would spend the money he could get for hooking up such a beautiful young woman with one of the most connected Pimps in all of L.A.

 

[WildCherry19]

Candy brushed away one solitary tear, afraid to let the limo driver realize just how fucked she was. If he knew there was no way she could pay him, he might kick her to the curb right here. At least in the back of this limo she wasn't likely to be mugged or raped.

Candy deleted the text message, still not knowing what she should do. She uncrossed her legs and recrossed them in the other direction. She brushed a little bit of glitter from her eyeshadow off of her dress. She watched the grey neighborhoods passing by outside. She held down the urge to tear up again.

After driving for another ten or fifteen minutes, she felt the driver pulling over to the side of the road. There, she saw a man in a fancy-looking suit flicking away a cigarette. He came walking over to the limo driver's window and the two were talking softly to one another. http://www.actors-pictures.com/pictures/thumbs/viggo-mortensen-5-lgthumb.jpg

She knew that it was only a matter of seconds before she was thrown out of the limo to fend for herself without a bit of cash in her purse. "Fuck it," she said softly, reaching over to the mini-fridge and pulling out a small bottle of wine. She popped the top off and began drinking straight from the bottle. If she was getting tossed out on the street anyway, why not enjoy her last moments of comfort?

 

[AnotherOldGuy]

Brett Long sat in the rear facing seat staring at Candy. The Chauffeur had filled him in on what he knew of the girl's plight; seemingly abandoned by a boy friend or fiancee or someone, with no where to go and -- likely -- no money to get by on, let alone pay for the limousine ride from the airport and, essentially, all over town.

Anyone else might have considered the chance that she wasn't so desperate. For all anyone knew, she had a pocket full of credit cards and a daddy who'd send her an opened ended airline ticket just for the asking. But Brett knew people, and after the driver's observations and just 15 seconds of silently studying Candy's face, he knew. This girl was fucked.

"I'm going to a party," he finally said to her. He glanced to the bottle of champagne -- his bottle, it was intended to be -- and saw it half empty. He took that as a good sign, for several reasons. "I don't have a partner ... girl friend, I mean ... wife. So, sometimes I pay someone to be my date."

He saw her reaction to the the way he put it, pay someone to be my date. His smile spread and clarified, "To be my companion ... you know, hang on my arm, smile a lot, pretend you like me ... make me look like less of a loser because I'm 56 years old and have never been married."

He glanced toward the Chauffeur, standing dutifully beyond the closed door, pretending not to be paying attention to what was going on in the back of his stretch. He looked back to Amy smiling a bit wider. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew his wallet, and offered out a hundred dollar bill. "Tell you what. You go to the party with me ... and you leave when ever you want. You stick through the evening ... we'll see about getting you some more ... okay?"

 

[WildCherry19]

Candy looked at the offered one hundred dollar bill. She was stunned. . . this was a big turn in her luck, or at least seemed like one. "Really?" she said. "You mean, all I have to do is go with you to the party, and act like we're a couple?" She brushed her hair back, looking into his eyes intently. After all, she might've just stumbled across someone who would save her from this shitty situation she was now trapped in.

She leaned forward, not wanting to say the next comment too loud, especially since the chauffeur was just on the other side of the car door. "I. . . don't have any money at all other than this. I. . . I think just the ride alone might have cost me more than 100. Even if I gave him this hundred, I don't think it would cover my tab."

Her moment of panic subsided slightly and Candy said, "If the limo driver lets me, I'll definitely be your date. And thank you. . . I don't know how to thank you enough.

 

[AnotherOldGuy]

Brett's smile spread. We're on our way. You know ... sometimes it's just too easy. He tapped on the window, and the Chauffeur opened the door, asking, "How can I help, Mister Long?"

"Take us to the party," he answered. He looked to Candy, allowing his eyes to drop to her shapely form as he added, "And put the lady's bill on my account."

"Yes, sir," the Chauffeur responded, closing the door.

The limo pulled away and headed into the night, with Brett's gaze planted again on the woman across from him. She was just what men wanted, a beautiful face and sexy body; and she was just what he wanted, a desperate woman in need of quick cash. If Brett could get her to open her lips -- either pair, or both -- for a random man's dick just once, he would likely be able to keep her for years. The money was just too good in the beginning, more money in one night than most women earned in two weeks.

And, of course, once Brett had her, he would be able to keep her as long as he wanted her. There were many reasons why his Girls chose to stay with him; and if they couldn't find one ... he'd find one for them.

Brett dropped his eyes to Candy's body again. She was a shapely woman, but ... "Your suit cases ... I assume they're in the back...? You're going to want to put on something more ... appropriate." When the beauty told him she didn't have any bags, Brett half turned and told the Chauffeur, "Detour. My place. We're going to need to find ... it was Candy, wasn't it...? We're going to need to find you something ... nice."

 

[WildCherry19]

She was startled by all of this kindness coming from a stranger. After getting that awful text, she didn't think she'd be likely to go to a party again for a long, long time. Now, it sounded like she'd be at a very fancy party . . . one even fancier than her little black dress would be appropriate for! She began smiling despite herself.

There was something about the man's tone of voice, and the softness in his eyes when he looked at her. Candy could tell he was someone she could trust. Someone who was sincere about wanting to help her.

She thought about what it would be like to walk around on the man's arm tonight, and decided she'd make sure he was very happy about his decision. Everyone would be convinced she was head-over-heels in love with him, she'd make sure of that.

"Detour. My place. We're going to need to find ... it was Candy, wasn't it...? We're going to need to find you something ... nice."

She smiled again. "You have something nice I can wear at your place? That's perfect. Do you have a daughter or something?" she said, remembering he'd mentioned not being married. That didn't mean he was a man with a simple life, though. . .

 

[AnotherOldGuy]

Brett's eyes had hardly left Candy for the duration of the twenty minute drive to his home. Every once in a while, when the tension had built to a point of explosion, he would ask her a simple question -- "When did you arrive...?", "How long are you staying...?", "Where are you from...?", and the like -- but for the most part, long silences filled the time until they arrived at his home.

He reached over and switched off the half dozen little lights illuminating the limousines' passenger section, wanting his guest to see where she was going. He watched her reaction closely as they passed through the stone and steel gates, up the long, cobblestone drive, past the stable with excitable thoroughbreds whinnying in the night at the passing car, and finally up to the front of the place Brett called home.

It wasn't much, really. Six bedrooms, four baths, two Jacuzzis -- one outside, one in -- banquet room, entertainment room, and a solarium that included exotic plants from around the world, many of them endangered species that Brett's public persona worked to protect through donations and research.

Outside, there were, of course, the stables, an Olympic sized pool, a personal three hole, three par golf course -- upon which Brett regularly embarrassed himself with his horrendous short game -- and seventy acres of grapes, only recently purchased from a neighbor who'd been devastated by the Great Recession and needed to unload a bit of his land to keep the rest of his world class vineyard afloat.

"Welcome to my home," he said with a humble tone as they stopped before the house. The Chauffeur opened the door nearest the brightly lit entrance and helped Candy out, warning her to watch her heels on the cobblestone walk. As he stepped out to join the pair, he ripped off six more hundred dollar bills and handed them to the driver, saying, "I think that will be all for the night. Perhaps we'll take my car instead."

When Candy glanced his way, Brett turned his head toward a building on the opposite side of the drive from where they stood. He pulled out his smart phone and tapped a couple of keys. The wide door opened, revealing a garage filled with exotic cars. Brett looked to Candy with a smile and shrugged. "A man has to have his toys."

He turned and headed for the home's entrance, thanking the Chauffeur and calling out, "Margaret! We have a need for your services."

 

[WildCherry19]

Candy nervously played with the bracelet on her wrist, finished the small bottle of wine, and began playing with her hair as they rode in almost complete silence. Every time she looked over at Brett, he was casually appraising her. She had trouble meeting his eyes for more than a moment at a time, unable to make sense of how this night had suddenly gone from the worst of her life to potentially a fun night. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but it definitely didn't look like she'd be sleeping in an alley.

As they drove along the road up to Brett's house, her mouth dropped open slightly. It was huge, and was gorgeous on the outside. It looked like he must be some kind of nobility with all of this property. Even horse stables! It was like a movie!

"Welcome to my home," he said, as if it were nothing. She shook her head to try and awaken herself; she was obviously asleep in the back of the limo, still racking up a higher and higher bill. But until she woke up, she would play along.

"It's pretty nice," she said, trying to sound casual. She knew she had failed horribly, since her voice was filled with awe as she spoke. As he paid the limo driver, Candy climbed from the backseat and adjusted the tight dress. It was windy, but the rain had finally stopped. She was staring at him in awe when he turned back toward her.

As the garage opened, her mouth dropped open yet again. "You OWN THESE?" she said, only realizing after she said it how much of an idiot it must have made her sound.

"A man has to have his toys," was his casual reply.

She couldn't help giggling. Apparently, THIS man had a LOT of toys!

"Margaret! We have need of your services!" he called out, and Candy followed along, her hands nervously behind her back. She wondered if Margaret was a house maid, or a daughter, or maybe a talking car....? She had no way of guessing, this whole night was so strange.