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The Professional

I close the door to my room behind me and try to relax.  My favorite client is paying at the reception desk and they’ll bring him back here to me once his credit card approves his weekly $4000 charge at Clarity Enterprises Inc.  Our company is aptly named because everyone who comes here is absolutely clear on what they get for their money.  Here you can find a lover, mother, friend, or confidant for a reasonable by-the-hour or nightly rate.

I love my job.  I’ve always performed for men in one way or another and now I’ve honed my skills enough to get paid handsomely to do what I love full time.  Getting paid to get off while helping someone else scratch an itch isn’t a bad way to earn a living.

I love being invited into someone’s kink, the “perversion they can’t share with the wife or the fetish they can’t bring themselves to confess to their girlfriends.  I hold their secrets and for however long they want.  I am the site of their dreams.  I love the feeling of releasing someone else from their inhibitions, but one client makes me feel less magnanimous and more greedy.

Lots of the men who come here have issues, some of them physically, others emotionally.  He’s not one of them.  He just likes to know where he stands.  Something we have in common.

Some of the men I see want a relationship, a girlfriend, or a lover.  I can do that for the time they buy with me, but never beyond that.  They think we’ll grow to love them if they try to save us.  I’m getting wet just getting ready for this man precisely because I’m nothing to him.  We have a special relationship I wouldn’t trade for anything.

I snap my last garter in place just as he walks into my room without knocking.  He knows he’s paid enough to win an open door policy when it comes to me.  He slams the door behind him and I can feel my skin tingle with anticipation as I listen to his movements.

I keep my eyes downcast like he likes and I can feel his approving glance roaming over my body.  He takes off his coat and throws it on the chair against the wall nearest him.  I can hear him roughly yank his tie off and toss it aside somewhere.  He walks forward and stands so close to me, my forehead could just touch his chest if I swayed forward.

He yanks my arms and spins me around facing the enormous bed my less creative and less demanding clients know all too well.  He bends me over and pushes me down hard with one hand pressing my lower back flat.  I tingle all over and stay immobile as he moves his free hand to yanks his zipper down in one rough movement.  I can feel myself gush at the sound.

He pushes his pelvis against mine as he kicks my feet apart until his shiny black dress shoes are holding my heels apart.  He runs his hand up my body to hold my throat lightly as he lets himself fall forward onto me.  His whole body covers mine as he yanks my arms behind my back.  The pain in my shoulders is exquisite.  As he holds me down with an iron grip in one fist, he uses his other hand to guide himself into my opening.  I inhale deeply and he releases my wrists to let me brace myself with a firm grip on my mattress.

Job or no, I’ve always been tight and needed time to accommodate anything as large as my john’s member.  He doesn’t pay to care about me and he shoves himself in hard.  I have to fight to keep from screaming or moaning, I don’t know which.  He pumps into me, full force with no preamble whatsoever.  I love his brutality.  He pushes my face into the mattress as he pumps into me again and again, harder every time.  He grabs my wrists and yanks them together above my head so all I can do is lie there and take his thrusts.  As he hits just the right spot inside me, I cant help but moan and he quickly punishes my transgression.

He couldn’t care less about me and I love it.  He pumps into me roughly, not caring how I feel and I try to picture what his every stroke looks like.  No matter how roughly he handles me and how many purple bruises he leaves on my skin, I feel warm and powerful in the pit of my belly.  He thrusts harder and harder into me, as if he could sense my thoughts and wants to punish me for my disobedience.  Because no matter how he dominates me, the secret we both know and never speak is that it is me who is in control.

I anticipate his every action.  I accept his thrusts and his seed.  I need his rough touch and his vicious fucking.  I let him be this beast with me and so his control of me is meaningless.  We both know I give him this moment and the truth of our relationship inflames him even more.

Suddenly, he stops and his cock is still inside me.  I stay bent over my bed with my pubis squashed against the edge of the hard mattress.  I have to make sure to hide my excitement as he starts us out with my favorite game.  He pulls away from me, leaving only his head inside me.  My ass feels cold as he leaves me exposed and without the benefit of his body pressing against me.  The garters and stockings without underwear he always wants me in leave me vulnerable and ripe for the taking just as he likes.  I can feel the tremor of unfulfilled orgasm beginning in the pit of my stomach and I can just feel his smile radiating out from behind me.

He pulls out and flips me over to face him.  I never look at him and meekly accept the ball gag he uses to quiet me when I can’t play by his rules.  He pulls me towards him and throws my ankles over either one of his shoulders.  He yanks me forward until my thighs are against his stomach and my cunt is forced up against his cock.  He lifts my ass off the bed as if I were weightless and mercilessly thrusts into me, pulling my hips against his cock to meet each pump of his pelvis.

Tears well in my eyes as the pleasure becomes almost more than I can bear.  I whimper around the hard gag in my mouth and luckily he’s too intense to notice.  I arch my back and gather myself enough to clench my pussy muscles.  Suddenly I’ve got the power back as I surprise him with my force of will.  I finally meet his eyes with a smile as I suck him from within and he finally breaks as we come together; him grunting and shooting his hot come inside me and me silent and opening for him.

He falls on top of me and looks me in the eye for the first time since he started coming to me.  We look at each other for what feels like hours but probably lasted no longer than a few seconds.  He brushes a stray piece of hair out of my face and caresses my face once more before getting up and dressing.  He methodically places an envelope on my dresser and hesitates at my door before leaving without a word or look.  I find out later that he’s tipped me more than I make in a month.  He never comes back.

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