Idea: In a sense, this is not unlike Contested, listed above, in that it's a story between a sex worker and a person of influence. But where it differs is that this is intended to be closer to a romance. With this idea, I was looking to explore a young woman who is in the sex industry, who gets into trouble, and forms a relationship with a client who bails her out, and the evolution of their relationship from there.
My Character: I'm looking to write the prostitute. She's a young woman in her mid twenties who, unlike the cliche stories, is a woman who enjoys what she does. It's empowering and exhilarating, not demeaning and remorseful.
Your Character: I'm looking for an older male character. I would prefer a family man in his early to mid fifties, as age difference is something I truly want to explore. Perhaps a judge or lawyer? I have a few faces in mind, but again, will defer to your decision.
Themes and Outlook: I want to explore their relationship, from the first time they meet, to the bitter end. I don't think that a relationship is something that she wants, and is doing it more to keep him happy, with the lifestyle he has given her, and the certain sense of comfort that comes with him. Being able to resist the pull of the former career is something that she can't let go of, and would love to explore the relationship and the struggle with that.
The room had been cold, just flirting that line between comfortable and uncomfortable. It felt good upon her nakedness, soothing, calming the still fast beating heart and heat within her.
He had been in the shower, the sound reaching her in the main part of the hotel room. She knew what was expected when it came to Thomas, or whatever his name truly was. They would do the deed, comfortably bask in that afterglow, for only a moment, before he would carry himself to the bathroom to clean her from his body. The gentle, older man expected her gone by the time he emerged from the steamy shower, and Alicia Wesson was fine with that.
It was easier, she thought, to not see her when he dealt with the shame that came with cheating on his wife and family.
Funny how that so often seemed to be, she thought to herself, as she wiped her folds with a few Kleenexes. How eager they were, how desperate they were to have her, and others like her, sparing no expense, just for a little bit of their attention and presence. And then, how uncomfortable and shameful they were after the deed was done, when all that was desired was for loneliness.
The musings on such paradoxes were entertaining from time to time. The attempt at unraveling the mysteries that were the minds of her clients. Some just wanted someone to talk to. Some just wanted to feel loved and desired. And some just wanted to fuck. Each and every one with their own unique reasons. A lonely life and busy career. A misunderstood family man. A stressed soul just needing some sort of release. She didn't dare try and psychoanalyze her clients. In the end, none of that mattered.
The only thing that truly mattered to her was how much, and for how long. Money and time. The most valuable things in the world.
Tick, tick, tick went the clock in her head. She had a few minutes to get dressed, gather her belongings and payment, and head out into the maze of halls of the hotel. After a few minute wait for the car, she'd be on her way back into her normal routine, changing in the backseat while her driver navigated the streets and thoroughfares. From the back of the car, she would emerge, her navy-blue cocktail dress folded away neatly in her bag, donned in the simple, casual attire so often seen around campus.
Back to her apartment, back to the life and lie she lived to all of those around her in her personal life. The dutiful college student. With enough time, she thought she might be able to sneak in a nap, a short rest to recharge her body and mind before plunging into her studies.
Until the phone would ring again.
Just as it had while she was sitting there upon the edge of the bed, vibrating away from the depths of her small clutch. Alicia rose from the bed, stretching her taut, lithe figure before retrieving her phone. A quick glance at the screen, and she did not hesitate to answer.
“Hey.” She said in a soft, gentle whisper. “I was just getting ready to call you. I'm getting ready to get dressed and leave my Noon appointment.”
Alicia could almost hear the grin upon Joanna's face. “'Atta girl.” The Madam had said. “Listen, I need to talk, like, right now. I've got a bit of an emergency on my hands.”
Her eyebrows raised at the statement. “What sort of emergency?” She asked after a slight pause.
“Nothing major or anything like that.” Joanna said, which made Alicia breathe a sigh of relief, knowing what dangers and troubles lurked in such an industry. “I had Amie scheduled for one of my V.I.P's, a big one to me. She got sick this morning, and I need someone, like, as soon as possible.”
Alicia turned her head to the door of the bathroom, the shower still going. “But I just had an appointment though...” She said, her voice filled with uncertainty. “Isn't there someone else?”
A sigh came from the other end of the phone. “Sweetheart, I need you. I've got no one else available with their day free.” Joanna said. “If it were any other client, I'd try to reschedule, offer a discount, whatever. But I can't with this one. He's my VIP of VIP's, and you're right up with alley with what he likes.”
When Alicia hesitated, Joanna pounced. “I personally vouch for him. All of the girls who've had appointments with him like him.” She continued. “Plus, he's an amazing tipper.”
Could she do it, she wondered?
“When and where?” She sighed.
“You're a lifesaver.” Joanna grinned. “He's at the Allegro, downtown. Already knows what's going on and that you'd be running a little late. He said to just meet him in the hotel restaurant. He'll be looking for you.”
Ordinarily, when it came to arranged meetings with clients, Alicia preferred to stick to the sacred routine she kept for herself in preparation.
By no means was it some sort of strict, demanding regimen, nor was it something that could just be glossed over with an idle sense of care. It was something that, in her mind, was simple. Easy to follow. Calming and soothing to perform. After all, that was the entire purpose of her routine.
A long soak in the tub was often required. If she were lucky enough, and her stores were stocked, the waters would be scented with fragrances from one of many bath bombs. The water was always warm, hot, to help scrub away what dirt, sweat, and whatever else may have been lingering upon her flesh. A drying out period, usually wrapped up in her softest of robes.
From there, she would clear her head and mind of all of the negativity, all of the troubles and thoughts of her “normal” life. Sitting before the mirror, applying makeup with a deft hand, she pushed such thoughts out of her mind, and focused on what was needed, what was required, for that evening, whatever it might have been.
By the time she left her apartment, she was often relaxed and calm. Loosened up from the routine designed to calm and ready herself. No troubling thoughts of whether she looked this way or that way. Nothing but confidence in her steps, that sense of power and strength that was always comforting in what was to be done when meeting with a client.
But not always can one be as prepared and calmed when about to meet a client.
She sat alone in the little stall of the hotel lobby bathroom. Her eyes scanned every inch of her face and eyes. Makeup was touched up here and there. Her dark hair brushed as best as she could in the small, barely private space. She cleaned herself up as best as she could with the baby wipes in her purse, a refreshing spray of perfume here and there upon her body. Every motion hurried, knowing that already she was running late.
She had made sure she was clean before leaving the other place, cringing as she asked her last appointment to use the shower, further prolonging their time together. A hot shower with hotel courtesy soaps. A far cry from the rich and expensive bath products that were tucked away in her room.
It made her feel as she had all those months ago... Lost... Naive about the ways of the business... Ignorant of the value of such comforts... Before she ever discovered the rush, the thrill, the empowerment of it all.
When she emerged from the stall, the young woman could not help but to give herself another look in the ling mirror of the bathroom. Her hands smoothed over the navy blue material of the cocktail dress, picking away a stray hair here and there. She looked good, she thought, as good as she could feel under the hurried circumstances. The fountain of youthful innocence, containing that hint of something more...
A couple of deep, calming breaths. The only thing holding her back as herself, she thought. All that needed to be done was to step out and go.
Despite the lingering doubts in the back of her mind, the little ball of anxiety that went with knowing she was not at her absolute best, having just come from an appointment, she walked with a sense of confidence that was enviable. Her long, dark hair trailing gently behind her, her high-heels clicking softly against the marble, she was ready for the night, and all that came with it, as she emerged into the restaurant of the hotel, waiting and looking for her client.