Hooker (2 page)

On weekends, I attended one of the finest finishing schools money could buy. She said I wasn’t refined enough for a lady. Newsflash, I ain’t no lady. Well, I wasn’t at the time. I was an eleven-year-old girl who, due to her past, was tough and street smart. Over the next few years though, that’s exactly what I became.
A lady
.

Once I hit fourteen, I was given my own personal trainer to help me stay in shape. M’s words, not mine. There was nothing wrong with my body. I was tall and slim with curves in all the right places. Despite all my misfortunes, I was lucky enough to be blessed with the most amazing genetics.

As I grew older, M enforced strict rules. She forbade me to have a boyfriend. Like, threatened to go ninja on my arse if I even went near a boy. I honestly thought she was looking out for me, so I did exactly as she requested. I was only a child after all, so I didn’t really care, or know any better. Boys weren’t high on my agenda at the time.

I was about sixteen when M confessed why she’d handpicked me from the orphanage. ‘You’re exquisite, my dear. You have the face and body of a goddess. Those eyes,
breathtaking
. The moment I saw you I knew you were the one. My men are going to be clawing to get their hands on you.’

I had no idea what she meant by her ‘men’. Unfortunately, I’d find out soon enough.

I’m not going to lie, I was confused and hurt to think she’d chosen me solely on my looks. Appearance was everything to her, so it shouldn’t have surprised me. I was continually scolded if I hadn’t dressed to her high standards, or acted accordingly.

As long as I played by her rules, I had everything handed to me on a silver platter, the finest designer clothes and vacations all over the world, but my new home lacked love and affection just like the others. Looking back now, I suppose you can’t miss something you’ve never really known. Sure, M treated me well, but there were times she made me feel more like an object than an actual human being.

It wasn’t until my eighteenth birthday that I discovered the real reason M had been putting so much time, effort and money into making me so refined, so perfect. As it turns out, she wasn’t as generous as I thought.
She was grooming me
. With all my experience, I should’ve known nothing in life comes for free, and the day had come when I’d have to pay M back. Every single cent she’d invested in me, and more.

It was also the day I found out the first M in MM didn’t stand for Miss at all, but Madam. Madam Melody. Monster Melody would be better suited. Madam Melody owned the most exclusive, high-class escort agency in the country. I became her protégé. Her new meal ticket.

‘I’ve put a lot of time and money into you, my dear,’ were her exact words. ‘It’s now time for you to repay that debt. You will be coming to work for me.’ The tone in which she spoke
told me this wasn’t up for negotiation. ‘With your exquisite beauty, that body, and your sweet persona, Jade, you’re going to make me a lot of money. Make us both a lot of money.’

A week after my birthday, her long awaited plan came to fruition. I was set up in my own luxurious apartment, and began the training that would ultimately make me her number one girl.

Six months later, I was ready to embark on my new life as a high-class escort—a hooker, for lack of a better word. She made me sign a contract, binding me to her for the next seven years; one year of service for every year I’d lived with her. Initially I was devastated. After reading the contract, I felt sick. Physically sick. It hurt to think all the nice things she’d done for me weren’t because she cared. It was obvious I was just a commodity for her sick and twisted plan. This was why I’d been forbidden to associate with the opposite sex. She needed to guarantee my virtue would remain intact. That way she could sell me off to the highest bidder like a piece of meat.

My contract stated fifty percent of all my earnings were to go to M. Repayment for all she’d outlaid getting me ready for this role. She was my carer, my guardian. There shouldn’t have been any need for repayment. I felt trapped. I had no money and nowhere else to go. Sure, I’d had a good education and would eventually find employment, but if I fled, I’d be forced to live on the streets. She had manipulated me into thinking I owed her, and that what she was doing was for the best.

The only positive thing I could see in this situation was the kind of money on offer, as it would give me the opportunity to set myself up for life. A chance to start fresh, once M released me. To live my life the way I’ve always wanted to live it. A chance to be free from all the horrors of my past.

My
first night on the job was the worst. That first sexual encounter will haunt me forever.
For-fucking-ever
. The night I lost my virginity to a disgusting client. He was a short, stocky, balding, middle-aged, perverted pig of a man. He was the highest bidder for my innocence.

The day before, M had paraded me around in front of all the potential suitors, wearing only skimpy white lace underwear, a garter belt and stockings. It was humiliating, and so degrading. Once they’d had their fill of ogling me, she made me leave the room so the bidding could begin.

Two hundred thousand dollars was the amount he paid to strip me of my virtue, and all my self-worth. I only know that because one hundred thousand dollars was deposited into my bank account the next day. My cut. Knowing what I know now, I wouldn’t relive that night for all the money in the world.
No fucking way
.

Over the years though, I’ve learnt to deal with my situation. The life of a high-class escort isn’t all glitz and glamour. There’ve been times when I’ve struggled with what I’m expected to do, with the person I’ve become. Like, really struggled. I remember thinking to myself I’d rather die than do it again. What little respect I’d still had for M was gone. It was replaced with hate. With contempt. How could she do this to me?

As much as I hated it, however, in the grand scheme of things, it was a walk in the park compared to most of my childhood.

I only had two more years of my sentence to serve, and then I’d be free. I’d finally accepted this was my destiny, my fate. This is who I was meant to be. For the interim anyway. Or so I thought.

I
had no idea that I’d soon be faced with a situation where I’d break all the rules. M would’ve spit kittens if she ever found out I’d betrayed her trust. Yet she betrayed me in the worst possible way. She should’ve been the one person who looked out for my welfare, not the one to throw me to the lions.

It clearly states in my contract that I’m not allowed to have any contact with a man outside of my work. That meant no boyfriends and definitely no casual sex. I had no qualms about that clause—because of what I’ve been forced into doing, I kind of hate men anyway. Well, I had no qualms until I met Brock Weston. After my encounter with Mr Weston, my life would never be the same.

One night of passion with a sinfully hot, charming and charismatic stranger would change everything.

Would change me
.

JADE

‘How
are you feeling tonight, ma’am?’ Rupert asks when he opens the back door of the limousine for me.

‘Fine thanks, Rupert,’ I reply, my eyes meeting his as I smile. It’s what I always tell him, even if I’m not okay. I love how he always asks though. He’s been my saviour since he came to work for M.

I was sixteen when Rupert arrived. At first I was wary of him: some of M’s henchmen are creepy or just plain thugs. Once I got to know Rupert though, I soon realised he was one of the good ones. He’s a lovely man, and sincere.

It took him a few years to work his way up the ranks and gain M’s trust, but once he did, he was assigned to me permanently. Rupert’s been looking after me for five years now. Truthfully, I was over the moon about it. He’s always been kind. In my opinion he’s far too nice to work for someone like her, but I guess she pays well. Of course I didn’t tell M how happy I was—she’s a spiteful bitch. She would’ve used the knowledge against me if she knew I was fond of him. She’s a master manipulator.

Rupert’s controlled by M just as much as I am, but from the very beginning, he’s always looked out for me. I’m not
sure if I would’ve survived this long without him. Especially after that awful first night.

*

Rupert escorts me up to the penthouse suite. It’s the room M reserves for her best clients. I’m on the verge of throwing up when we reach the door. I’d been thrust into the arms of strangers for as long as I can remember, but never in my life have I felt so much despair. So utterly helpless.

Although it’s against the rules for him to stay, Rupert can see my apprehension—my entire body is trembling. The pained look on his handsome, aging face, tells me he is just as troubled by my circumstances as I am. I’m not used to people giving a shit about me, but it’s quite obvious he does. It surprises and soothes me all at once. Reassuringly, he promises me he’ll be waiting right outside the door. It gives me the confidence I need to enter the room. Without Rupert, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to go through with it.

When I see the man who awaits me, bile rises to my throat, and all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Great, the creepy one. The one who’d been licking his lips the whole time M had me on display the day before. Just having his eyes on me makes me feel dirty. Out of the twenty or so men M had invited to bid on me, he was the one I’d prayed I wouldn’t get. Of course, fate being the bitch it is, it was him.
I knew I was fucking cursed
.

As I stand in the foyer of the penthouse suite, the creep rubs his grubby little hands together as his beady eyes travel over my body. It literally makes me shudder.

‘Undress,’ he commands.

I’d
spent the previous six months training, being taught the art of seduction, but in this moment, everything is forgotten. All I want is to get this over with as fast as possible. Just being in his presence repulses me.

The moment I’m naked, he instructs me to go into the bedroom and lie on the bed.
I can do this
, I chant in my head as I make my way down the hallway,
I can do this
.

Once I’ve laid down, I fix my gaze firmly on the ceiling above me. I can’t bring myself to make eye contact with him. I will my mind to transport me anywhere but here. I hear him shuffling around the room, but my eyes remain glued on the ceiling.
I can do this
, I encourage myself. In a few hours, hopefully sooner, this will all be over.

He stands beside the bed, looking down at me. Out of the corner of my eye I can see him undressing. Quickly, I snap my eyes shut.
I can do this … I can do this
.

My eyes spring open when I feel something drop beside me on the bed—a black bag, similar to the one I use when I go to the gym. I don’t want to see what’s inside, so my eyes hastily move back to the ceiling. I hear the sound of the zipper over the erratic beating of my heart, before he grabs hold of my wrist.

‘This will ensure you stay exactly where I want you,’ he says.

I still can’t bring myself to look at him. The moment I feel the cool metal against my skin though, I can no longer look away.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask. The fear in my voice almost makes it unrecognisable. I want to scream, but I can’t. M had pre-warned me that this man had paid a lot of money to spend time with me. She forbade me from protesting against any of his demands. She insisted I was to give him anything he wanted. I hated her even more for putting me in this position.

‘Making
sure you can’t move,’ is his reply as he quickly fastens the handcuff around my wrist before securing it to the bed. Instinctively, my arm tugged from its position. I’m trapped. He moves to the other side of the bed while my heart thumps furiously against my ribcage.
I can do this … I can do this
. My chanting is kind of moot by this point—this was going ahead whether I wanted it to or not.

Soon, both arms and legs are tightly fastened to the bed posts. He has me spread out like a starfish. Bile rises in my throat again as he licks his lips and admires his handiwork.

‘Now that’s a sight,’ he murmurs as he bends down and retrieves his phone from the bag.
Click … click … click
, is all I hear as he snaps shots of me from different positions. Tears sting my eyes, but I will them away.
I can do this
. But in that moment I know I
can’t
do this, and it’s too late.

When he’s done, he kneels on the mattress, making the bed dip. As his face comes towards mine, my eyes hastily close again. His wet mouth presses sickeningly against my lips briefly as his hands palm my breasts.

‘Your tits are perfect. By the feel of them, I’d say real too,’ he whispers in his creepy voice as he roughly squeezes the one he was holding, sending pain radiating through me. ‘Open that pretty mouth of yours,’ he demands as his finger traces a line across my lips. ‘I’m looking forward to fucking it later.’

Instinctively, my mouth clamps tightly shut.

‘Open your fucking mouth,’ he sneers as his hand comes to rest around my throat. This time I do as I am told. My repulsion is quickly replaced again by fear.

I gasp for air as he shoves something soft into my mouth. A gag. Panic fills me. Why is he gagging me? What is he going to do? My nostrils flare as I inhale a large breath through my nose
as his revolting body comes to rest over mine. I squirm as his chubby little fingers trail a line up my inner thigh, then
boom
. I let out a groan of pain as he forcefully shoves a finger inside me. I’m not turned on in the slightest, and it hurts like hell.

‘You like that don’t you, you filthy slut?’

I clamp my eyes shut, trying to hide the tears I can no longer hold in. Images of that sick bastard from one of the foster homes I’d been in years ago flash through my mind. He used to put his hands down my pants and touch me when nobody else was around.

‘Mmm, you taste delicious. Just like I knew you would,’ the creepy guy breathes as he places the finger that had been inside me into his mouth.