Professional Prostitute (unedited)

Chapter 9

The girl's reaction was weird. It's like they knew something was bound to happen.

But I sure as hell did not want problems with anyone especially Helen.

After coming back from my first intern day at work, I was already shook and kind of scared to start making a life of this.

The rest of the afternoon was boring. I went to bed not too late, but I couldn't stop tossing and turning.

My thoughts were at a million. Fear was one of my strongest feelings. Damn it. What have I done with my life?

From a terrified girl beaten by her father to now; a prostitute. It couldn't of have gotten any more worse than this!

The idea of ​​this prostitution program was for men of all types to touch me, and do things to me in ways that no women would want to experience; and I act as a submissive that has absolutely no say. The worst part is that I don't have any other choices, unless I want to die alone in the streets.

I just have to look at the bright side and hope that at least, most of the guys that pick me will be hot and not old and have a shriveled penis. I shivered in disgust.

I was disappointed. Afraid. Lonely.

I soon fell asleep after thinking...
a lot.

The next morning:

I woke up early the next day, brushed my teeth and went downstairs to grab some milk to drink.

Someone was lying on the couch and watching TV at a low volume. I walked quietly to the person and saw Guilherme almost falling asleep. As I took a turn to the kitchen, I bumped into the couch; unintentionally. Shit.

"What the hell?" His deep voice said. Guilherme's eyes widened and then he stretched his arms looking around trying to clear up his vision.

"I'm really sorry. I am such a klutz. I woke you up."

"It's okay. I really wasn't trying to sleep at all." He said sarcastically. "Sit down, stranger" He laughed when the nickname rolled off his tongue.

"That will forever be my nickname won't it?" I laughed.

I passed Guilherme and sat on a love seat next to him.

"As long as it doesn't get annoying, yes." He was still lying on the couch, but was now looking at me. In fact, he was actually looking at my ass, which was very easy to do considering the length of my pajama shorts were extra, extra short.

"I prefer being called by my name" I said as I tried to lower the length of the tiny piece of cloth, trying to cover up my ass, but didn't have much success.

Guilherme: "Can I ask you a random question?"

Manuela: Sure

Guilherme: How did you get all those bruises on your body? I bet most of them were from you bumping into couches and walls" he smirked.

He was looking at my bruises, not my ass. Why do I always think that all guys are pervs?

Manuela: "Umm" My mind took a while to formulate an answer to his question. "My ... My father... he used to abuse me."

Guilherme: "oh my Gosh, I'm sorry I didn't know it was serious; didn't mean to joke about it."

"It's fine" I sighed.

Guilherme: But anyways, Do you want to try one of my famous, extreme, better then sex sandwiches?

Manuela: In the morning? Now? No thanks I only want some milk.

Guilherme followed me into the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of milk and mixed chocolate mix in it.

He made two huge sandwiches with possibly a thousand different things you could put inside a sandwich.

He really had courage to eat that enormous bread, right now. I sat on the table across from him.

"You sure you don't want the sandwich?" he asked me as he took a big bite of the one he made for himself. "More for me"

"Fine." I finally gave in to try his 'world famous' sub.

As we ate I told him my story, the real story. When I told the girls I didn't tell them everything. I hid a small detail I didn't think they would need to know.
But when I was telling Guilherme, I felt comfortable and not so much ,pressured.