The Girlfriend Experience Ch. 07

Chapter Seven
"Well, well, well. Lookie what we have here, will you?" Kenzie was ready to captivate in a pair of dangerously short denim cutoffs that were rolled up even higher and a pink tank-top with the telltale sign of a bikini strap tied around her neck. Overhead, the blazing sun roasted her like caramelized vegetables in an oven. After pulling the elastic band from her obsidian-black tresses and shaking them free, Kenzie lowered her big, round sunglasses and regarded Lindsay as the eighteen-year-old meandered onto the back porch, a frown tugging at her lips. "You're up early, girl."
It may have only been ten o'clock in the morning, but the temperature was already ninety-four degrees, and the forecast called for it to reach triple digits by the afternoon. Prepared, Kenzie sipped an ice-cold bottled water and nibbled on a protein bar.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Lindsay huffed and stomped her feet for theatrical effect. "Tell me about it."
Lindsay woke up forty-five minutes ago and had already taken care of her hair and make-up. If a customer stopped by and requested a lineup, all she'd have to do is change into her "hooker garb" (her term) and wait by the kitchen for Jim to give the cue to proceed to the lap dance room. She could switch outfits in less than three minutes -- she'd been practicing -- and wouldn't be late for the lineup.
"That guy was a real jerk last night." Lindsay choked back a sob and blinked through yet another round of tears. "I've never met anyone like him before."
Kenzie motioned toward the chair across the way. "Sit down, hon. I agree, he was. Want to talk about it?" The foreign bombshell adjusted her shades to combat the intense morning glare. "I felt sorry for having to leave you with him."
Emotions thickening her chest, Lindsay plopped down with an audible thud. She wished every client could be as fun and exciting as Sammy, but learned a cold, harsh lesson last night: they're not. "Eric wasn't in a good mood from the outset." A lump had grown in Lindsay's throat, her voice a whisper. "And it never improved."
"He was an asshole. You'll meet plenty of them working here, trust me. It comes with the territory." Kenzie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged the incident off like it was no big deal. She'd dealt with her share of dickheads over the years, both in and out of the house. "Don't let it affect you, okay?" Kenzie reached for Lindsay's hand. "It's over. My God, Kayleigh. You let everything get to you here. You got paid for your time. Let it go and move on."
"Five hundred and ten dollars." A cold shudder racked Lindsay's body. I hope every customer from here on out isn't like that guy. Perhaps the party with Sammy was an anomaly? God, I hope not. I'll go back to Citronelle if it was. "I was hoping for more like six or seven hundred." I refuse to be dehumanized like that ever again.
"Fuck that asshole!" Kenzie slipped off the sunglasses and shielded her eyes. "Worrying like this isn't worth your time."
Lindsay grabbed a heavy clump of hair and gazed heavenward, feeling angry, frustrated, and foolish. I don't belong here. I'm in way over my head at this house. "What if he leaves me a horrible review on the website?" The thread Sammy started yesterday was up to twenty-seven responses, and everything about it was positive. Six people claimed they wanted to meet and party with Lindsay because of Sammy's praise. But if Eric, the trick from last night, left a negative review, would it offset all the good?
"You don't need to worry about Eric posting something nasty and others seeing it. Colt or Jim would take it down immediately. If they miss it or are busy, Colt has a webmaster who monitors the site day and night, and he removes anything negative. You'll never read a negative review of any girl on the site."
I guess that's why there's nothing bad said about any of the girls. "That's good to know, I guess." This wasn't the time for an emotional breakdown, even if Lindsay was justified in having one. I opened myself up to evil men like Eric by wanting to work here. I'm just as much to blame for what happened last night as he is, if not more. "But what if the customer went to Jim afterward and bitched about me during the exit interview?" Her gaze was pained, watery. "I know he did; he had to. He said he was going to."
The look on Kenzie's face was somewhere between annoyance and empathy. To her, Lindsay was a whiner and refused to let things go. "Kayleigh, honey, don't worry. That guy was a fucking loser. Jim listened in during your party and knows things got off to a rocky start because of the negotiations. Jim knows what an inconsiderate prick he was for the entire hour, too. Stop worrying!" Kenzie again snatched Lindsay's hand and swept her thumb over the back of it. "Colt will listen to the party today once he and Pamela return from their day out, I'm sincan sınırsız escortlar sure. Everything gets recorded, you know, right? They won't hold it against you if the guy showed up in a horrible mood and left in a horrible mood. It's not your fault. Nothing you could've done would've made him happy."
"But..."
"Were you nice to him? Did you do everything he asked during the party? Were you gracious, responsive? Did you thank him afterward and ask him to please come visit the ranch again? That's all you can do." Kenzie sat back in her chair and gazed at Lindsay with a heavy heart. "I talked to Jim last night after the fact and he told me nothing you said or did was wrong. Everything you said was right and by-the-book. You. Can't. Please. Everyone!"
Lindsay looked down at her Chuck Taylors. "I felt like a failure." She glanced up and again made eye contact with Kenzie, dizzied by the thoughts swirling through her mind. I shouldn't be here right now. But I am, and I'm screwed.
"You are not a failure. You're a good girl, Kayleigh; you have drive, ambition, goals, and a loving heart." Kenzie took another sip of water as Lindsay gave an empty, emotionless nod. "You want to work hard, please others, and be successful at your job. And best of all, you're sweet as candy -- a little cutie pie. You have a bright future in this business but need to work on the mental side of things." Kenzie patted her thigh. "Stop being so sad."
"I don't want to get into trouble and for Colt or Pamela to have any bad thoughts about me." A size or two too small, Lindsay's nightshirt with the cookie monster designs on its front stretched tight across her breasts. "You know I'm still the new girl here. I mean, I need this job." Even if I'm not ready or deserving of it.
"Fuck that guy, baby! Forget him! How many times do I have to tell you?" Kenzie waved a dismissive hand. "Colt, Jim, or Pamela won't be upset. Trust me, I've been here for years. I know how they think."
"And what happens if Eric ever comes back and, God forbid, wants to party with me again?" Lindsay rolled her face, her expression bleak and shadowed.
"Decline his ass! Turn him down, tell him no." And after his act last night, Kenzie doubted Colt or Jim would let Eric through the front door again. They'd turn him away before he had the chance to ask for another party with Lindsay or anyone else.
For as wonderful of a time she had with Sammy on Tuesday evening, last night was the polar opposite for Lindsay. Pamela was away at the hotel in Ambridge, so there went yet another opportunity to lose her lesbian cherry. Customers passed Lindsay over during the first seven lineups of the day -- a real bummer -- but she got chosen during the eighth. That should've ended the night on a high note, but Eric, a client visiting from Arizona, had a sour attitude from the beginning.
With Kenzie chaperoning the conversation at the bar as Lindsay's fill-in Big Sister, Eric admitted to having a "shitty day" and was looking to blow off some steam. He was obnoxious, arrogant, and a complete jerk, but Lindsay was intent on making money and agreed to escort him back to her bedroom to discuss pricing.
Things went downhill in a hurry.
Kenzie took care of the negotiations and Eric flat-out laughed when she mentioned Lindsay's prices were $700 an hour for a GFE. It was a high quote, yes, but also fully negotiable. Kenzie said $700 because she wanted to maximize the profit for both Lindsay and the house. Personally, she refused to sell herself for anything less than $600 for a one-hour GFE. Kenzie had her standards, lofty as they might be.
Eric shot back that was a rip-off and refused to go any higher than $400. "Ain't no piece of pussy worth seven hundred bucks! I could go up north and pay four hundred for the same goddamned thing! Hell, for seven hundred, I should get to fuck her in the ass, too, without a condom, and make her clean my dick off with her mouth!"
"Anal sex is prohibited here, sir," Kenzie responded in a calm, businesslike tone, though she was seething with rage inside, "and if you'd like to drive three-and-a-half or four hours north in the middle of the night to pay a lesser price, by all means, be our guest." Kenzie wanted to rip this man a new asshole, to be blunt, but since he was a customer, she couldn't. "We don't want you to go elsewhere, but you're more than welcome to. It's your decision."
"We can go lower than seven hundred, baby." Lindsay should've already declined the party after his comment but was determined to have one before bedtime. All the other girls had at least one party throughout the day. "I'd like to show you a good time and put a smile on your face."
Lindsay asked Kenzie to continue the negotiations. She agreed, but also motioned for Lindsay to zip her mouth and let her do all the talking.
After elvankent suriyeli escortlar a contentious back and forth, Eric agreed to $510 for one hour. Just ten bucks above the house minimum, Kenzie equated the negotiations to trying to squeeze blood out of a turnip. The issue wasn't that Eric was looking for the lowest price and wanted to save money. Kenzie never blamed a customer for that. Rather, it was the way he went about it. Eric was rude and disrespectful, easily one of the worst clients she'd ever dealt with, and it stunned her that Lindsay agreed to party with him at all.
Because they couldn't agree on at least $600, though, Lindsay's room and board fee for the day didn't get waived. That sucks, but at least I'll make some decent cheddar tonight, was her train of thought. It's better than nothing.
After the dick check, payment, and shower (another thing Eric complained about), he reentered the bedroom and found an anxious, smiling Lindsay seated on the edge of the bed. She had on a frilly little chemise, stockings, and modest high heels, and looked like an angel on a mercy mission from Suck City. "Hi, baby. I've been waiting for you." She flashed him a pearly smile. "What would you like me to do first?"
"How about you shut your fucking mouth -- I'm not paying you to talk -- get down on your knees, and do your job? Blow me, you overpriced whore."
Lindsay recoiled as if she'd been slapped. Although she'd become more accepting of that word in recent times, she flashed back to when Jim took her to the sheriff's station and the lady behind the desk called her a whore. Lindsay came close to having an outward reaction again, but dropped to her knees, rolled a condom onto Eric's cock, and offered a sterile, unenthusiastic blowjob.
How was this possible? Lindsay's blonde head bobbed back and forth as she kept both hands on the base of Eric's shaft, her eyes closed, yet she felt no pleasure and was crying inside. I love sucking cock more than anything, but I don't want to be with this horrible man right now. She didn't understand what was happening, or why. How can I feel no emotion or joy sucking dick? What did I do wrong to this man? Why is he being so hateful?
I'd rather be back home in Citronelle with Mom, Dad, my sisters, and all my friends....
"You like cleanin' that cock, don't you?" Eric put his hand on the back of Lindsay's head and applied pressure, urging her to go faster. "It's all girls like you are good for." He reached down, lifted the hem of her chemise up and over her head, and tossed it elsewhere. "How many guys have you fucked today, whore? Am I number five? Ten?"
Lindsay kept quiet, but there was plenty more cocksucking. Keep it together. I have to get through this.
"This was a five-hundred-dollar mistake," he told her at another point. "You're doing it all wrong."
"You're not even any good at this. You should be fired."
"No, do it like this... No, do this... No, try this... Dumb, stupid girl; you're all gums!"
Eric made Lindsay crawl on her hands and knees over to the recliner, where he took a seat and received another round of fellatio. Lindsay tried responding to one of his mean quips this time, but he put his hand over her mouth and said, "Shhhhh. Every time you talk, it goes down."
Eventually, Lindsay was taken back to the bed, where she got fucked in the missionary position and on her side. I feel violated! She didn't smile once. Her face was tight, an uncomfortable scowl, as she glared at him and continued to endure his insults.
"If I catch a disease from you, rest assured, I'm pressing charges."
The hour-long session ended with Lindsay on her hands and knees, and Eric fucking her as hard as he could. There was nothing positive from this encounter, no satisfaction. I'd like to beat this man to a bloody pulp. I want to hurt him. She looked like a zombie because Eric did nothing but degrade and belittle her from start to finish.
"I didn't even get to nut off. I'm complaining to your pimp boss out there; I demand a refund. Hopefully, he beats the shit out of you later as a punishment."
For a such a friendly, small-town girl who radiated positive energy at all times, no one had ever treated Lindsay this way. Did making me feel worthless get him off? What other reason could there be for the way he acted? I know I'm not a bad fuck. No one has ever complained, including Sammy. He said I was the best he's ever had.
"Jim was outside your room with his hand on the doorknob for at least half the party, if not three-quarters of it," Kenzie said. "He was waiting for you to object to anything that guy did, tell him no, and was gonna burst in and toss his ass out of the house if he didn't listen to you. It blew Jim away that you never objected to anything Eric said or how he treated you."
Lindsay picked at etimesgut türbanlı escortlar her fingernails and brought a knee up to her chest. "Colt says the customer is always right, and I must please him or her at all costs." She cast her eyes to the side, away from Kenzie, and frowned.
"Not customers like him."
Someone who didn't know Kenzie may think she was a pushover because of her sweet, good-natured personality, but Lindsay knew better. Kenzie was straightforward and not afraid to stand up for herself. I wish I could be strong like you. You remind me of Pamela.
"I still cannot believe you wanted to party with him. With the attitude he had during negotiations, I would've told him no." Kenzie squinted against the sun. "So would every other girl here. But you were hellbent on fucking him, so I kept negotiating. Money, money, I know... you want it. We all do."
Lindsay ground her teeth, the shame and humiliation digging into her like sharp claws. "I'll remember that for next time, I guess." When the party was finally over and Eric left the house, Lindsay trudged off to the washroom and took a long, hot shower. The water seared her skin until it became a bright pink and she contemplated calling her mother and begging her to come rescue her and take her back home to California but decided against it. I... can't. That's no longer an option.
Kenzie again leaned back in the rocking chair and got more comfortable. "That guy is a prime example of why Jim, Colt, the bartenders at night... someone is always listening in during our negotiations, and usually the party itself via surveillance. Jim was on red alert the moment Eric walked through the front door. He said he almost asked him to leave a few minutes after he showed up."
"I wish he did." Being with Eric was a nightmare, and Lindsay wondered if she'd ever be able to recover from it. I won't be able to handle another party like that again. I'll press the panic button next time and the cops can come for all I care, guns-a-blazin'. I refuse to be treated like trash.
"The alternative to working in a brothel is street hooking. Meeting some random guy in a casino, for example, going up to his hotel room, and him fucking you up something fierce if things don't go right. There's no Jim, no Colt to protect you, and maybe you wind up in the hospital. Or worse." Lindsay froze at the seriousness in Kenzie's voice. "But here, you're safe. No one is going to harm you. There are usually ten to twelve employees in the house at all times, and we all look out for one another."
I can't go home. Not now, not anymore. Things would never be the same once Lindsay fessed up to her family about what she'd done here. Mom and Dad would disown me! I need to tough it out and save some cheddar for the future. Last night was awful, but according to what she'd just heard, it could've been a lot worse. Eric didn't physically assault or attack me, at least.
"I'll never turn tricks outside the house. Not in a million years." Kenzie put her sunglasses back on and swept her dark hair outward with both hands. "Lots of girls do, even ones working here now. Me? I enjoy the feeling of safety the brothel provides and, more importantly, I enjoy my freedom. I don't want to get arrested and go to jail."
"Does Pamela... turn tricks?" Lindsay lowered her voice and leaned in closer. "Illegally?"
"Pamela? Turning tricks? On the street, you mean? No way." Kenzie found humor at the absurd thought. "She owns the brothel along with Colt, and an arrest for solicitation would not only put an end to her career, it would be the death knell for the brothel as well. City council wouldn't hesitate to revoke its license. Colt and Pamela, they'd be out of business forever."
Lindsay nodded, having already known that. Two nights ago, though, she had a dream that she and Pamela worked the streets of Vegas, as a duo, and fucked every guy who was willing to pay their exorbitant fee. When it was all said and done, I was writhing around on the bed, and Pamela showered me in hundred-dollar bills!
"Get that guy out of your mind. You'll never see him again. Just call it a learning experience, okay?"
Lindsay crossed her arms, her muscles twitching. "I don't want to talk about him anymore."
"Good, that's my girl. Don't. Move on."
"I don't know if Aaliyah likes me or not." Changing topics, Lindsay had a confused expression and pointed way out yonder toward Aaliyah, the African American stunner, who was doing Pilates in the far corner of the yard. A fitness enthusiast if there ever was one, the twenty-eight-year-old could be found exercising both morning and evening in the backyard unless she was with a customer. Aaliyah would prefer to do her fitness regime at the local health club or go for a jog around the block but didn't want to take the chance with Sheriff Spaeth and his pack of deputy watchdogs lurking at every corner.
"I don't know what I did wrong to her. Aaliyah, I mean." Clearly unequipped to deal with conflict, Lindsay tapped her foot on the ground and fretted, "I said hello to her this morning, and she gave me the meanest, nastiest look. I was like, what the hell? Do you know if she's mad at me? And if so, for what?"