I'm here all the time, it's the only place I truly know. My world revolves around sex. It's complicated. My whole life I felt nothing and If I did, it was only heartache. That's why I'm always here. At Club Ethiopia, I feel something. I feel like I'm wanted even if it's just for one night. Being someone's filthy whore every other night feels my heart with....satisfaction. Like I'm worthy of something. Like I'm wanted.
It's completely insane to feel this way yet I can't stop it. After a while, I feel all used up? I don't know but I can't take it anymore. I need someone to take me away from this place. On the outside, I'm a slut who craves pleasure and a way to escape the numbness, but deeper in the depths of my aching soul, I crave something truly aesthetic.
Another Friday night at Club Ethiopia. The air is filled with sex and cigars. I'm used to it. I have about 4 customers every other night and it's the same type of person. The "whose your daddy?" and "beg for it!" sadistic asshole bullshit. I can't say anything because they pay good. I just take it all in and wait till it's over.
I know what you're probably thinking.. "don't let them force you into this bullshit, just leave.", but I want this, I need it. I feel something when I'm being used like a toy and feeling like I'm worth nothing. It's the only feeling I know.
I'm surrounded by this lifestyle and it suffocates me like I'm under water. Days, weeks, months past and I'm still here in Club Ethiopia. It's all in my head. When I think I deserve better even if it's for a quick millisecond, I snap out of it and say "no, you don't deserve happiness, Kira, don't be foolish." I think I'm afraid. My boss always tells me "fear is not real, it's a product of our imagination and wildest thoughts."
That bastard doesn't want to lose his best employe so he fills my head with this shit to keep me here. It works. No matter how I'm treated here or what I'm told I know it's true and that I'm never going to leave. Where would I go? Who would love me? Love? I'm laughing right now. Before all of this, I had someone to love. He abused me and left me crying on my bathroom floor. He ran away with my perfect sister. That bitch. My parents are dead and I have no other family. I wasn't worthy of his love, so I guess I really am a worthless slut. It's crazy because I speak so freely about how badly I need to get out of here before it's too late and how I crave for someone's touch, yet I don't know what love is. So ironic. One minute I feel like I'm worthy of this thing we call "love" and the next, I know I'm the worthless whore they call me during sex. After a while, I feel nothing. Once you've been used so many times, you can't feel much of anything.
There's one person who gives me hope in this crazy world of mine. Lucas. My favorite customer. He comes in without knocking. Like this exotic club is his penthouse. He knows how to make me melt. He is different than all the others. I want to tell myself that he is not, but deep down I know he is. Everybody does the same things he does. There's Elijah who caresses my skin with his big hands making me feel safe and secured. There's Justin who knows what I like, without me having to explain much to him. There's Haruhi who likes it rough and loves to see the marks and bruises he puts on me. Like I'm his. I'm not. Lastly there's Kai, honestly there's nothing spectacular about him, he just pays extremely well.
Then there's Lucas. He keeps it honest. He doesn't lie to me telling me that he loves me or telling me that he'll be here when I wake up, when he actually knows that he isn't. He doesn't sugarcoat anything. He makes me think I'm his and truly his, even for a night. Maybe I like that. Knowing I can never have him to myself because I'm everyone else's, everyday, every week. Altogether, the sex is mesmerizing. He makes feel like I'm everything when I feel like I'm absolutely nothing. He kisses me gently, starting from my jawline all the way down to my hips. His kisses aren't rushed, they're more passionate than the rest. He leaves me in goosebumps but also gets me heated up by just looking at me. When he comes in, we devour each other like we haven't seen one another in months. He makes me feel something. A feeling I can't explain.
He's my last customer. It makes me happy knowing I can end the night with him. I'm clearly attached but I won't admit it. Especially to Lucas. Him and me? A prostitute and a rich business man? NO. When I put it like that, it makes me swell up with anger mixed with hurt because I know it's true. I know he will never actually want me. No matter how many times he comes back. No matter what he says about me deserving more. Part of me thinks that it's an act, so I can perform better than last time. The other part of me, that wishes for something, smothers and suffocates that bad side in my head and I tell myself that it's not true.
Sometimes I feel bad that he's my last customer. How he sees all the marks and bruises from earlier.The hickeys all over my body. I wonder if he can taste my other customers. The taste of salt and regret. Feel the distant touches that leave me feeling small inside. It makes me think why ? Why does he pay so much for a slut like me ? He can have anybody else in the club.
Sally from down the hall. Michelle from across the bar. Olivia next door. These whores have a reputation for being the "best". Then there's me, Kira, just regular old Kira in room 206. Lucas chose me. I don't know why. He doesn't love me. I know that I'm just a quick fuck to him. Therefore, I choose to see that hopeless, small light that hides in me. I know who I am but deep down in my confused and lost heart, I'm aching for something, anything. I want it, I crave it.
Friday night. 11pm.
I'm waiting for Lucas on the bed like I always do. Naked. On my back with my knees touching my chest. He walks in but somethings off. He usually smacks my ass leaving me red and wanting more. But this time, he walked right past me and sits on the corner of the bed. He doesn't look at me.Not even a glance. He just pulls out a cigarette, lights it and sighs. My heart drops. I feel something. A feeling that I should be used to. I feel like I've done something wrong. All the years I've been here, the sex and feelings, I feel something different for Lucas. I want to know what's wrong. What's on his mind and what's swimming around his beating heart. I won't. I can't. I'm just a good fuck to him.
