Diaries of a Teenage Hooker

20

I tried my best to calm down. Martin's warning replayed in my mind, about who the wedding was for and just how much power they had. I swallowed and counted to three, then I exhaled. It helped; I felt calmer.

              "I wasn't sent by anyone."

              "Lies."

              "Is it so hard to believe that a girl has the desire fuck a man on his wedding day?"

              He paused. The smell of my own genitals on his breath made my chest flutter with pride. He let up, extending a hand to me. I sat up and then he started to analyze my face.

              "Aren't you too young to be a masseuse?" his expression suddenly turned panicked. "How old are you?"

              "I'm eighteen, don't worry."

              "I'll need to see some ID. Just to be safe."

              "Just to be safe?" I scoffed. "What's done is done. If I'm not eighteen, then you've already committed a crime."

              "I know. But that will make the difference on whether you leave here alive or not."

              I turned to him, my eyes wide. This wasn't the pathetic 'little boy' who had virtually ingested my underwear. This was a dangerously powerful man. Fear filled me. "I don't have ID here."

              He stared at me silently for a bit, then he said, "What's your name?"

              "Lea."

              "Lea what?"

              I paused for a minute. I wasn't sure I was supposed to disclose my identity to these people. Wouldn't that get me into heaps of trouble? But I didn't really have a choice. Lying to him might be the wrong decision to make in this situation.

              "Hooper. I... I go to Georgeson High."

              "Lea Hooper," he said my name like he was testing in on his tongue. "And you're eighteen?"

              I nodded.

              He walked over to his desk drawer and grabbed a phone. He began to type something. Although my family wasn't famous, we were wealthy enough to have a couple articles written about us. I was sure he was checking my age from that.

              After a bit of typing, I noticed him smile, and then he placed his phone down and walked over to me. "Get up," he said.

              I listened to him.

              "Where did you learn how to fuck so well?"

              I shrugged. "I'm a natural, I guess."

              "Damn right." He tugged at my button, pulling the shirt open and revealing my cleavage. "I don't know, I think I have one more in me. You wanna go again? I'll be in charge this time."

              "Aww. Your ego's hurt? You want to show me that you're actually a big manly man?"

              He frowned. "If you weren't so–"

              A particularly loud crash interrupted our conversation. It dawned on me then that this room was somehow soundproof, that's why I hadn't heard the screaming woman since I got in. For us to have heard that crash, it had to have been something massive.

              Even though we were virtually strangers, we shared a look of terror. At once, Mr. Georgeson rushed to get dressed. I picked up my bag which contained my belongings and waited for him. I did not want to face the enraged woman alone.