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Barbara couldn’t be sure how much time had passed days, weeks, months? Her phone had long since died and subsequently been taken and sold by one of her captors. She was given a cheap burner in it’s place, which she was only permitted to use for purposes of contacting Whitney or her hired muscle when necessary to obtain payment from a John. Though her brain was foggy, perpetually clouded, she could somewhat recall the first night that her blackmail began. She remembered the air being warm and thick. In contrast, the air at present had a biting chill, causing goosebumps to rise on her stockinged legs. This signaled to her that a good amount of time had passed, but time didn’t matter to Barbara anymore. She measured her existence in the number of cocks she took between fixes.
Barbara had proven to be a profitable body for Whitney and her crew a blondie with a track record of being a scummy, racist pig, fallen from “grace” to become a strung out, junkie whore. The appeal was there, and men paid to fuck her not just for ual gratification, but as a form of justice: karma had come back to bite her. And the income she generated served to seal her fate, as Whitney and her other captors decided they wouldn’t ease up on the blackmail. The statute of limitations on hate crimes and battery meant that they had years remaining to dangle the shattered glass tumbler over Barbara’s head. She knew that getting her fixes in prison would be far more difficult, if not entirely impossible. And even if she could leave without fear of prosecution, she knew that Whitney wouldn’t let her run tricks around here on her own. How else would she make money? How else would she buy her drugs? She was left with only one clear choice, and she didn’t really care to consider any other options.
Barbara swayed under the orange glow of a streetlight, tapping her heeled feet impatiently and taking a drag of a cigarette, unable to recall when she took up smoking. This corner had far less traffic than the main “Hooker Alley” corner, but the ladies there wouldn’t let Barbara stand with them as they knew who she was in her past life. She had been on the corner for nearly an hour already with not a single John in sight. She knew that she couldn’t go back to the brothel until she had made some money, as Jackson wouldn’t fix her up for free and Whitney wouldn’t let her stay there unless she performed well. A wave of excitement washed over her when she saw headlights approaching in the distance.
She recognized the car as that of one of her regulars, a man named Jake who ran in the same circle as Leroy. He pulled over next to her and gestured for her to get in the car. She knew that Jake always had various forms of cocaine and crack on him at all times for dealing purposes. This thrilled her, as another lady at the brothel had recently advised her to start smoking or shooting up her drugs instead of snorting them, given that her tolerance had become so high. Each fix had become simply a means to stay right, rather than a chance to get high. But she wanted to fly again.
“Hi,” she muttered, climbing into the passenger seat. The other ladies would all put on a show for the Johns and try to be y, but Barbara didn’t really bother unless they wanted her to. Her appeal wasn’t that she was particularly y it was that she was a useless fuck toy with no other option besides letting every man have his way with her.
“Did I speak to you, bitch? Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to,” Jake growled, exhaling smoke from a blunt out his window. He didn’t seem to have any specific kinks aside from being in control. He didn’t like anything in particular other than getting Barbara to do ridiculous ual tasks.
Not taking his eyes off the road, he extended the blunt towards Barbara. With every passing minute, she was coming closer and closer to crashing. It had been hours since she used, and although pot wasn’t going to get her straight, it may help her cope with the fact that her head was pounding and her skin felt like knives. She reached out to grab the blunt from Jake’s fingers and he recoiled, his face painted with anger.
“Nah bitch! I’m not smoking you up. The fuck do you think this is? Pull up your skirt. You’re my ashtray.” Holding the blunt between his pointer finger and his thumb, he tapped the blunt with his middle finger to ash it over Barbara’s lap. A burning ember cascaded onto her lap, landing just above her crotch. She winced but didn’t dare squeal, as she knew she needed to please Jake.
“What are you, bitch?” he asked, pulling over into a vacant parking lot. Barbara, her brain muddled with imminent withdrawals, looked at him confused. Jake let out an angry sigh and shook his head furiously. Fear shot through Barbara she was terrified. She wasn’t scared of him hurting her, as he always did and she knew he would, but of him kicking her out without fixing her up. She wouldn’t be able to survive the walk back to the brothel, or whatever punishment awaited her, without a fix.
“I’m your bitch, Jake. I’m whatever you want me to be, I swear it,” she desperately declared, leaning over the seat and pawing at him to try and initiate some ual act that he couldn’t refuse. He shoved her back into her seat and ripped her skirt above her waist, then slowly began to bring the burning tip of his blunt towards her thigh.
“You’re my ashtray, bitch. I already told you this, fucks sake,” he spoke angrily between his teeth. Barbara pulled away from him, instinctually trying to distance her skin from the searing heat.
“You’re already not listening and we’re just getting started. You sure as shit don’t seem to me like a bitch who wants a fix,” Jake said with a raised voice. Barbara could tell he was getting angrier by the second. She pushed her muscle memory and kneejerk reactions to the back of her head in an effort to avoid recoiling at the heat of the blunt. This made room for her to focus on the gnawing feeling that was quickly overcoming her ability to exist, and she realized she would do anything for a hit of the miracle dust Jake no doubt had in his pocket.
“I’ll be a good ashtray. I swear. Here,” Barbara said while gesturing to her thigh. He jammed the tip of the blunt against her thigh, and she could feel the embers crushing against her melting skin. She wanted to yell, cry, punch him in the face, recoil in pain, but even more than that she wanted to get high. So she didn’t even flinch. Jake laughed, watching her lack of expression with amusement.
“You’re one desperate whore, huh?” he asked. Barbara nodded, as Jake was right. She was desperate.
“Do you have any rock?” she asked, full of hope that Jake was holding something that would make her feel something other than discomfort and pain once more.
“Maybe. But who said you could ask questions? Wanna know what fun I have planned for us?” Barbara didn’t want to know. Jake had a talent for forcing Barbara to do humiliating tasks for often pathetic amounts of drugs in exchange. She believed he could’ve been a very successful evil genius had he been dealt a better hand of cards. Despite this, she feigned interest and nodded sweetly, thinking of nothing other than the rush of ecstasy she’d soon be feeling if she pleased him.
“Alright junkie slut. You’re gonna suck my cock. You’re gonna deep throat it, gag on it, and be gasping for breath. You don’t pull away until I tell you,” Jake instructed. Barbara felt a small sense of relief this was easy enough. She nodded and leaned over the middle console of Jake’s car, preparing to pull his cock out of the waistband of his sweatpants.
“Not yet. Too eager. You gotta speak the EXACT words that I tell you to, EXACTLY when I tell you to, no matter what you hear or what happens,” he continued. Barbara nodded, still believing what laid ahead was a relatively simple task. Soon she would feel good again. Soon she’d get rid of the crawling sensation taking over her skin.
She took Jake’s cock out of his sweatpants it was already quite large even though he wasn’t fully erect. She went to work getting him fully hard, running her mouth up and down his length and swirling her tongue around his head. He soon began to thrust his cock into her mouth, and she could feel him occasionally pulsing as he became harder. As he jammed his cock down her throat, not stopping even when it seemed like she would puke, all Barbara could think of was what her reward would be. Her dreaming was interrupted by Jake removing his phone from his pocket and dialing a phone number.
“Remember what I said, and follow my instructions,” he reminded her, grabbing her by the hair on the back of her head. The phone began to ring and he held it up to her ear.
“Washington County Police Department, how can I help you?” the voice over the phone said into one ear. Barbara stopped breathing, confused and mortified.
Jake continued to fuck her face and said, “Say: This is exofficer Barbara, the blonde cunt you all hated.” He pulled his dick most of the way out of her mouth. Barbara began to shake her head no, and she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Jake smirked and reached into the cubby in his driver side door, where he pulled out a baggy of powder. Every fiber of Barbara’s being began to fill with longing. She wanted to rip the bag from Jake’s hand and choke him. She wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp and steal every gram of coke he was holding. Instead, she let him continue to choke her with his cock and spoke the garbled words Jake had instructed her to.
“Excuse me?” the woman on the phone asked, confused and slightly taken aback. Barbara recognized her voice as that of a secretary she had worked with for years. She never bothered to learn the secretary’s name. Her skin crawling with embarrassment, she looked at Jake for further instruction.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sucking a fat cock for drugs,” he said quietly, jamming his dick so far into her throat that she began to cough. Barbara repeated what Jake said into the phone, gagging halfway through her sentence. The woman on the phone scoffed.
“Barbara, this is very concerning behavior, not to mention probably illegal. These calls are recorded and I’m going to have to file a report. This is harassment. Please get help and don’t call the station again.” The secretary tried to hide her disgust and come across as concerned before hanging up, but Barabara knew that no one at the police department cared an ounce about her wellbeing.
She pulled away from Jake and let him know the woman had hung up. He burst out into a cruel laughter and began to wave the bag of powder in front of her face. She reached for it and he pulled it away. She began to beg him for a hit, which pissed him off.
“Don’t get grabby with me, whore. You can have a hit to make you right before our next bit of fun. I wanna see just how desperate you are for that rock you mentioned.” Jake tapped a fat line of powder onto the dashboard in front of him, snorted it, and then held the bag out for Barbara. She dipped her pinky in, collecting a pile of dust on her finger, and held it up to her right nostril. Blocking her left nostril, she sniffed as hard as she could. Slowly but surely, her skin calmed and a sense of contentment washed over her. Her thoughts became clearer and she felt almost normal. As she embraced the caress of the drugs, she reminisced about the first few times she had snorted the magic powder it used to make her mind race and make her feel invincible. Now it leveled her out, and without it she reached new lows. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than to get back to that feeling.
“Jake, I need some rock. Please. I’ll fuck you for free every day for the rest of our lives,” she pleaded. He chuckled and began to stroke his cock, which was still nearly fully erect.
“Bitch you know I don’t care about you. You’ll get your rock if you do good. Start sucking,” he instructed. Being violently fucked in the face was much easier now that she had a fix. She was confident she could handle whatever “bit of fun” Jake had planned. Again, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.
“I’m not giving you a script for this one. You got the gist from our last conference call, huh? You be as detailed, gruesome, and nasty as you can possibly be, and then you’ll get your rock. If you hold back, I’m kicking you out right here.” Barbara made affirmatory eye contact, his cock deep in her throat. She doubted anything could possibly be more humiliating than the last task.
“Hello?” a man’s voice answered. The voice was familiar, kind, and brought Barbara back to a safe, happy place in her mind. It was the first time she had felt that feeling in years, since long before she ended up on the streets. But the nostalgia was quickly overpowered by a feeling of intense sadness and longing, and the sadness was then overpowered by fear as she realized who was on the other end of the line. It was her son. Jake expected her to say these disgusting things to her son.
Barbara hadn’t spoken to him in many years, as he disowned her for her narcissistic behaviors and corruption. But last he knew his mother was doing fine enough, working on the police force. Jake wanted to shatter that facade he wanted Barbara to shatter any possibility that she could ever have a relationship with her son again.
“Hello???” the voice asked again, seemingly becoming agitated at the lack of a response. Jake stifled a chuckle and a moan. He pressed the mute microphone button on his phone.
“How bad do you wanna get high, junkie slut?” he asked before unmuting the microphone.
“This is Barbara,” she spoke as clearly as she could with a dick in her mouth.
“I told you not to contact me,” her son replied with a sigh. Barbara hesitated to reply and Jake retaliated by shoving his cock further into her mouth. She gagged a bit and then considered her options. She decided that there was no way back from this from the position she was in. There were no reparations she could make to her relationship with her son, or her relationship with anyone for that matter. This was her life now. The thought of climbing the mountain back to normalcy made her shudder, while the thought of getting high made her tingle with excitement. What choice did she really have?
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m on the streets now,” she muttered. Her son responded with another sigh, and Jake mouthed the word “weak” to her. She wasn’t doing good enough for Jake, but the thought of doing more made her cringe.
“I’m sucking cock for drugs,” Barbara said, choking on Jake’s dick and a lump that was beginning to form in her throat. Jake was enjoying this his hands gripped her hair in pleasure and his breathing became heavier.
“Are you serious right now? Why are you calling me?” her son responded, in complete disbelief. Jake’s thrusting speeded up and his cock began to twitch.
“Actually, I’m currently sucking a cock as we speak. It’s pulsing in my mouth, and I think he’s about to cum.” She gagged, Jake now her face rapdily, only pausing momentarily when he could tell she was completely unable to speak.
“I get to smoke some crack because I’m telling you this, and once I’m done doing this I’ll go back to the whorehouse that I live in and get fucked up the ass in exchange for lines to snort,” she continued. Her voice was cracking, but it wasn’t because she was sucking Jake’s cock. She was crying now, tears streaming down her face. Barbara was filled with the most immense sense of shame she had ever felt. But even stronger than that shame was her desire to get high.
“You are disgusting. If you contact me again, I’m getting a restraining order,” her son replied. “You are completely insane, Bar” he began to speak. He was interrupted by Jake suddenly grunting and moaning. Barbara gagged and coughed as he sent a load into her throat, which made it go up her nose. Her son hung up and a sense of relief washed over her. She swallowed Jake’s sticky load, glad it was over.
“That was decent. Here,” Jake said, putting his dick away and grabbing something from the center console of his car. He handed her a small bag with a tiny rock inside, and a glass pipe shaped like a bulbous spoon. Neither of them spoke on the ride back to the brothel, as Jake had already had his fun with her she was a useless clown only meant to be humiliated and fucked.
…
Back at the brothel, Barbara gave Whitney the money she had gotten from Jake.
“The fuck is this? You think this is gonna keep you here, housed for free? No way. You’re gonna have to pick up the slack. Hope you didn’t wanna sleep tonight, girl,” Whitney said, shaking her head and slipping the bills into her bra. Barbara couldn’t care less how many cocks she had to have in her various holes for the rest of the night. She had crack to smoke, so whatever came her way she would handle it while flying high.
Barbara made her way to the disgusting bathroom of the dilapidated house where she hoped to smoke her rock in peace. She didn’t want to share, and she knew the other ladies would swarm her if she tried to smoke in a common area. Cocaine and crack were both very popular choices at the brothel. They made you feel energized, invincible, and electric, which was perfect for a busy hooker. The dissociating, “slumped,” effect of downers made them not ideal, and even a bit dangerous, for the ladies here, who could easily be taken advantage of if they were nodding out.
She found her pipe and fished through her bag to find a lighter, then broke off a chunk of the small rock. As she prepared her fix on the bathroom counter, her reflection in the hazy mirror in front of her caught her attention eyes sunken and glossy, skin pale, and cheekbones protruding. Typically doing her hooking makeup in her phone camera, Barbara couldn’t recall the last time she had actually clearly seen herself. The urgency of her fix escalated. She didn’t want to spend another moment considering the person she had become.
There was a knock on the bathroom door. Barbara slammed the heel of her hand against the counter in frustration.
“What?” she demanded. The door swung open and Whitney waltzed in, counting a massive wad of bills.
“Duty calls. You have customers. Private room one upstairs. Don’t worry about smoking that shit either, they’ll fix you up.” Barbara wanted to argue and insist on having two minutes to herself, but she didn’t want to risk triggering Whitney’s wrath.
She begrudgingly made her way out of the bathroom and through the common room where there heaps of people on the couches in various states of undress. Walking up the stairs to the private room, one of three bedrooms used exclusively for Johns looking to have a more intimate experience, Barbara wondered who her clients could be. She didn’t have any regulars that came in pairs and could afford a room.
The room was empty when she arrived. She flicked on a lamp which stood on a small table in the corner of the room. She placed her bag on a bench at the end of the bed and sat on the mattress. The ceiling above her held a giant mirror, a musthave for whorehouses and sleazy motels. Once again face to face with her reflection, Barbara instead focused on her outfit. A tight tank top over a push up bra with her tits busting out over the top hem, a mini skirt now torn from her previous adventures with Jake, and thigh high black nylons under a pair of knee high boots. If she ignored her weathered face, and the memory of who she used to be, she could almost convince herself that this look suited her.
Barbara hadn’t heard the footsteps ascending the stairs, so when two men entered the bedroom she was startled. Fear overtook her when they stepped into the light, revealing themselves as two uniformed officers. As the dim light revealed their smirking faces, Barbara realized it was her former boss, Frank, and another superior, Dan. She scrambled to her feet.
ero
