Chapter One

 

To say Zoe was nervous would be a huge understatement. But a bet was a bet. She had lost fair and square, and so she really had no choice but to live up to her end of the bargain she had made. She resented Tyler for keeping her to it, and for winning, and though she was angry at herself for agreeing to the bet, she did her best to transfer that anger onto him.

That bastard!

What was even more galling was that she had been the one who had insisted on making the bet in the first place. She was so sure of herself and that she couldn't lose. That was why she agreed to his outlandish terms.

She was standing on the corner of 14^th St. and Pallor Avenue. She was in the middle of The Market. This was an area of town which had started out as a vegetable and fruit market. It had expanded to be a market for almost anything that you wanted to buy.

In the evenings, it was the home to countless bars and taverns. And as the evenings wore on, it was also the market where you went to buy sex. Most hookers had moved online by now, but there were still a few who walked the streets around here.

And tonight she was pretending to be one of them. She was wearing a pair of ridiculously high faux leather boots with five-inch stiletto heels. They came halfway up her thighs. She wore a very, very short black leather mini which barely covered her buttocks, and a leather vest which she had owned forever, but never worn before without a shirt underneath...

Why had she allowed Tyler to decide what she would wear?! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

The vest was cute on top of a blue shirt. With nothing under it, including a bra, it showed off a lot of cleavage, not to mention side-boob if she didn't hold her arms up. It also left her lower chest and belly and much of her abdomen bare given that the skirt, in addition to being short, was as low on her hips as she could get it.

After all, since it was Tyler's choice what she would wear, that had included no underwear as well as no bra. And the skirt was very short.

At least he had agreed to let her walk this corner, which was not one of the traditional ones where she would run into a real prostitute who might get violent. But it was still Two AM in the market and she was dressed like someone who was looking for sex. And she was going to get it, too. That was part of the bet, as well.

Of course, that wasn't exactly a big problem for her. Tyler was her boyfriend, after all. It wasn't like they didn't have sex virtually every night, anyway. But tonight would be different. Tonight he would set all the terms and she would do as she was told without complaint. And, he had made it clear, he was going to treat her like a prostitute, like a whore, like someone he had bought and paid for and could order around.

There was actually something kind of exciting about that thought. Though it made her uncomfortable. God help her if anyone from her women's studies classes heard about this! A lot of them weren't all that happy about women who had sex with men in the first place. Damn lesbians.

But sex was a partnership, a mutual meeting of minds and bodies for pleasure. It was a cooperative venture in every sense of the word. Of course, she had the final say in everything. That was her idea of equality. At least when it came to sex. It was her body, after all. And Tyler always wanted sex a lot more than her.

That was the way it was with guys. They were all sex maniacs. They wanted sex all the time. Multiple times a day. Anything could set them off. They could go from nothing to a raging erection in a second and a half. And since women were a lot more restrained, they always had the bargaining power to get what they wanted in the way of agreements.

If the boys wanted them to take off their clothes then the girls got to dictate when and how and what happened. That was the way things worked.

But not tonight. Because she'd been an idiot. She looked around her, glad that the street was mostly abandoned. She didn't know what she'd do if someone actually walked by and propositioned her. This was a long way from her college campus, not to mention the quiet suburban neighborhood where her family lived. Not a long way, distance-wise. But a very long way in terms of everything else.

A car drove by, moving slowly enough that the passenger and driver stared at her as they passed. She flushed and turned away. Did they think she was a hooker?! God, this was so degrading! She was going to make Tyler pay for this eventually!

Her long brown normally hung perfectly straight down her back. Tonight it was lightly curled so that waves spread across her back and shoulders. Tyler had been quite clear, though. None of it was to hang down her chest to hide her cleavage.

He had chosen this to get back at her, she thought in irritation. He mocked many of the things that she learned in her women's studies classes. It wasn't that he didn't believe in women's equality. She wouldn't have dated him if he was some kind of male chauvinist pig. But he thought these people were extreme, which she conceded was true in some ways.

She wasn't sure she agreed with a lot of the stuff they were teaching her, but there was no reason to ridicule their theories. Well, you couldn't really expect anything else from a guy. There were certain ways in which they were all pretty much predictable. And their sense of absolute physical superiority gave them a sense of superiority over women which many of them did little to hide.

She couldn't really argue with the physical superiority part. She'd been startled to learn just how strong Tyler was. The last time she had done any roughhousing with a boy had been when she was around Twelve or so. Things had been a lot more equal then. Six years later, and even though Tyler wasn't a hugely muscled guy he had been able to pick her up and fling her around with ease.

In fact, it had been embarrassingly easy for him to restrain her, lift and carry her, and throw her into the pool, again and again. It wasn't that he was bullying her. She had started, playfully slapping his bottom and tugging at his swimsuit.

If they had been alone, she knew he would've stripped her in an instant. Thankfully, he hadn't gone that far. But as she had tried to tackle and wrestle with him repeatedly he hadn't resisted the urge to smack her bottom repeatedly and teach her just how much physically weaker she was than him.

At first, she kept going at him because she had thought it was a fluke and wanted to demonstrate that she was a very physically fit girl with a toned body who was, if not his equal, at least close to it. The reality had been startling.

And for some bizarre reason, it had been kind of arousing, too. She didn't understand that. And she wasn't about to ask anyone at school. Confessing that you felt aroused when a man physically overpowered you and flung you around was not something they would tolerate. That was wrongthink. She would lose their respect.

Of course, if any of them happened to be driving past and saw her like this it would be even worse, but the odds of that happening were remote, at best. She would not be here long. Her 'customer' would arrive soon. Tyler, of course.

A car came around the corner and slid to a stop before her and her pulse raced as she stepped back warily. The front passenger window slid down and then the driver leaned over. She felt a rush of relief at seeing Tyler there. She stepped forward with a coy smile and bent over the car.

He was wearing a checked shirt, And of all things, a red MAGA cap.

"Well ain't you a hot-looking little girl," he said in some sort of rural type accent.

His eyes zoomed in on her cleavage, well displayed in her bent-over position.

"Wow!" he said. "You look like you got some nice big titties there, girl!"

Zoe flushed indignantly, but still felt a strange dark rush sweeping through her body.

"Well, hi there, sir," she said, "Don't you look handsome."

"How much do you charge for a fuck?"

Her mouth opened in outrage before she snapped it closed. There was a second part to the bet, and she now realized he was intending to win that too. The second part was that she wouldn't be able to go through with the first part, and wouldn't be able to stay in the role of a hooker.

And if she lost that one too, he got to dictate what her payment would be.

"I, uhm, usually get a hundred dollars."

"That sounds pretty expensive. How do I know you're any good?"

"Well, I have a lot of experience," she said a little sarcastically.

"How about just for a blow job?"

"That's fifty bucks."

"Fifty dollars! You better be able to deep throat for that!"

"That's extra," she snapped.

"Shiiiiiiit. You don't seem that friendly," he said.

"If you got the money, baby, I'll show you how friendly I can be," she said with a flirty smile.

"Well, I dunno. Show me your titties first."

She flushed angrily, but again felt that weird surge of excitement. This was kind of a nasty, wicked thing to be doing, after all. She looked around but there was no one near, so she undid the vest and pushed her breasts out at him.

This is so degrading! she thought again.

And yet as she did it, she felt a rush of excitement and rising heat.

"Wow. You got nice tits, baby! I love how hard your little pink nipples are."

Zoe felt her mind squirming with a strange mix of discomfort and excitement.

"Get your ass into the car."

She gratefully opened the door and quickly slipped inside, closing it behind her as he pulled away from the curb, relieved that the most difficult part was now over.

"We going to your place, handsome?"

He let out a bark of laughter. "No way I'd take a whore to my place. My wife would be pissed as hell. Naw, I'll rent a motel room."

"I see you pay as much attention to your wedding vows as Donald Trump," she said sarcastically.

"Is that a shot at our president?!" he demanded.

"Ex-president."

"He's still our president! That election was stole!"

She opened her mouth in outrage, then snapped it closed again. He knew very well how those people infuriated her. He was trying to provoke her!

He glanced down at her short skirt as he drove.

"Show me what I'm buying," he said.

She looked at him in confusion. "But I already did."

"Show me your pussy. That's what I'm paying for, slut."

"Who you calling a slut!" she demanded.

"You saying you ain't a prostitute? Don't fuck men for money?"

She bit her lip and turned her head away.

"So show me your cunt."

If she hadn't been already restraining herself with the knowledge she was trying to provoke her, she would've exploded at that word. He knew very well she hated that word!

Instead, she tugged the short skirt up a little bit to reveal her naked sex.

"Woooeee! The stories that little pussy could tell!" he said. "How many cocks have you had in there in the last year? Must be hundreds."

" Are you trying to piss me off?!" she demanded.

He was of course.

"Just because I'm a hooker, doesn't mean I like people calling me names or insulting me," she said.

"How about if I pay extra for that?"

She was taken aback by the question.

"I like to talk dirty during sex," he said.

It wasn't even an unreasonable thing for the kind of guy who would hire a hooker off the street to want, she realized.

"Uhm, another fifty bucks," she said warily.

"Good. Tell me you love to suck cock."

Zoe belatedly realized her mistake. She should've said no. But how could she if she was a real streetwalker? No street hooker would turn down money just to have a guy talk dirty to her. No hooker of any kind would, she thought. What did they care what a John thought of them or said to them?

"I... uh, I love to suck cock," she said, face flushing.

"You must really like your job, then. In fact, this is the perfect job for a cock sucking slut. You get all the cock you want and you get money for it too."

She glowered at him and he grinned.

"What? You saying you ain't a cock-sucking slut?"

She sniffed in irritation.

"Tell me yer a cock-sucking slut," he demanded.

Zoe's mind squirmed but she sighed "I'm a cock-sucking slut."

"Sure are!"

The car suddenly turned off and she realized they had left the market and were now just inside the neighboring retail area. This was Dorn Street, which was a high-volume east-west road. They had turned into a motel driveway and stopped before she could say anything.

"Let's go and sign in," he said.

Zoe looked at him and alarm. "Why should I go in too?"

"This ain't one of the motels in the market, slut. They're a higher-class outfit. They want to eyeball everyone who stays here. I don't like to put up with cockroaches and whatever else they have in those market motels while I'm fucking me a good, solid, whore."

I am really going to make you pay for this, Tyler Evans! she growled to herself.

She got out of the car, her stomach already fluttering as she followed him into the small office. There was a guy about their age behind the counter. He got up from where he was sitting and smiled at Tyler then saw her and frowned.

"Hey, you can't bring a hooker in here," he said indignantly.

"Don't worry. We won't be long."

"We got families staying here, Mister."

Zoe's face burned hotly.

"They'll be asleep now and they'll never know we were here. We'll be gone before they wake up in the morning."

"Well, I don't know. You gonna make a lot of noise?"

Tyler turned to her. "You a screamer?" he asked.

He didn't give her a chance to answer. "Don't worry. If she starts to make too much noise I'll gag her."

"Only if you pay extra." the guy said.

Tyler looked at him indignantly. "I already gotta pay for the whore and the room!"

"Well, unless you do it in some alley somewhere, or in your car if you want it for free. Otherwise, you got to pay."

Zoe was horribly embarrassed. This... This cretin of a night clerk was looking down on her like she was some kind of cheap... hooker.

Which, of course, was what she was supposed to be.