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Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jun 11, 2009
Customer Service
Ushering Cindy into the room, I closed the door and spoke to her firmly.
"OK he should be here soon" I said looking at the clock and seeing it was almost noon. "Now remember, when he gets here, your name is Holly and you follow the rest of the script", she nodded submissively as I encouraged her kindly stroking her cheek gently.
It was carrot and stick with the girls in this business. You had to use a firm hand on them to keep them in line, but you also had to know when to be the nice guy. Excessive brutality with rental cunt makes them immune to it. What you want them to see is that you can also be kind; that way they are always striving to keep you happy. Of course the undertone of threat has to always be present.
What kind of girls do I have, and how do I employ them? We have all kinds. Some we get from our Russian contacts who acquire girls via promises of work contracts in the US. They get the girls to us, we pay them a fee, for which we get the girl and her passport. Some are just girls from broken homes, runaways and such. We get them and then we put them to work. Of course local girls always get relocated to another part of the country if we get them in their home town.
Some work in massage parlours, massaging creepy men, jerking them, blowing them and fucking them. Some work the streets. Some of the riskier ones are kept in rooms in a seedy motel we own, and the rooms are locked from the outside. Clients pay us for time slots usually denominated in half hour intervals for those ones. Some guys will pay a half hour slot for something relatively quick, while others will buy two or three consecutive half hour slots for something a little more. They can do what they want with the girl during their allotted time, so long as they don't leave marks. The ones working the street tend to negotiate fees by what act the client is requesting. All girls are heavily supervised.
Yes, there are times you just need to make an example of a girl and when I did that I never took unnecessary pleasure in it. It was just business. Sometimes girls hold out on cash, other times they start trying to get away. Stupid shit like that and when it happened you had to hurt them badly so they understood that disobedience would not be tolerated.
The problem with beatings is you had to be careful not to damage the face, or to leave bruising to the body such that customers would be turned off. Whipping the feet or burning them with cigarettes was good for that, but then the girl hobbled awkwardly when walking which didn't look graceful if she was actually a street walker. If she was working in a upstairs store "massage parlour" that was fine though. We could use electricity, use of objects forced into the vagina...etc to inflict pain on a girl, but it was a constant struggle to find ways to keep the disobedient in line without hurting their profitability.
Some of my competitors were all savagery and no business sense. They needlessly killed off their own girls when they angered them which made no sense. Why kill off something that is turning a profit? Sure punish them, but don't kill them unless it is necessary. Those are truly "pimps". I see myself more as a business man, who provides a service. Granted it has happened where I have had to dispose of a girl who was becoming a liability but that was always the last resort and I always made it clean, never making a spectacle of it. For example, one of my former girls, a girl named Shelly had been speaking with an investigative reporter about the sex trade and the girls who were caught up in it. The reporter was also talking with the police and if Shelly could help her out, she was promising to get her out and help her relocate. Naturally when I found out about this, Shelly had to go. I told her I was driving her to see a client, as I saw no need to torment her with the knowledge of her impending fate. Why do that? It just causes them to try something stupid. Keep them in the dark and they stay passive, walking willingly to their doom. We drove upstate, in some wilderness area an hour north of cottage country. I told her he was a rich client and had a cottage. I stopped on a road and told her his cabin was about 200 yards into the bush and that he wanted us to approach from the rear so his neighbors didn't see. I could tell she found this odd, but she knew that everything about our wealthier clients was odd. As she had been with many clients who were into BDSM she thought nothing of it when I cuffed her and gagged her before we headed over. I assured her that compared to some of her clients this guy was relatively gentle. He liked girls tied up and gagged for sex, but he wasn't into beatings. I saw the relief in her eyes at that, as she had been with some real cruel motherfuckers who liked making girls scream. As we walked into the woods, she seemed tense, as though she was nervous about something but that made sense as she was chatting with a reporter. When we came upon the hole that I had already pre-dug, she finally realized what was happening, but she was already cuffed and gagged. She pleaded pitifully through the gag, crying out and struggling as I threw her into the hole, her anguished wails of terror coming through the gag as she fought in the last few seconds of her life to continue living, and not to be buried in the wet muddy hole. I made it quick. Not out of mercy so much as practicality. The more messy you make it, the more evidence you leave. I filled in the hole myself as the more people involved, the more potential witnesses that can turn on you later if the DA offers them a deal. After some hard sweaty work, the hole was filled. Shelly would never be found. Realistically, as far as the world was concerned she had never existed. She had no idea who her dad was, and her mother was a meth tweaker who didn't give two fucks where Shelly was and what she was doing. Her passing was of as much consequence to the world as that of a bug hitting a windshield.
As for the reporter, getting her off of my case was the next order of business, and I took care of that in short order. No I didn't kill her.... Too high profile. Her editor was one of my clients and I explained to him why it might be very embarrassing for all concerned if she continued trying to expose us.
Anyway, back to the present. Cindy had come from a poorer working class home. Her mother was a drunk and her step father was horribly abusive. Instead of approaching a guidance counsellor at her school she ran away, and was quickly snatched up by us. I was nice at first, providing for her needs, acting as a caring older boyfriend, but what she didn't realize was that with every gift I purchased, and every meal I paid for, and every joint I let her share, she was running a tab with heavy interest. It's a pretty standard routine. When I came to her to pay up she seemed dumbfounded. She clearly did not have that kind of money, and so I beat her savagely. When I was done I raped her. Leaving her locked in a room, I came in several times over the next week, abusing and raping her while withholding food. This is how you break their spirit. It was a matter of time before she accepted her new lot in life. In no time I had her sucking me and fucking me like it was nothing. Anything to keep me from hurting her. She even learned to pretend she liked it. The first time I took her in the ass, she howled like a banshee, screaming in pain the whole time before I released myself inside her bowels. But even that she eventually learned how to take without screaming. She always gritted her teeth and crunched her fists up tightly, grunting and even whimpering but not screaming.
Cindy had then been moved to the hotel, where strange men came in at all hours, 24/7 to thrust themselves into her body and use her like an object as they grunted and sweated, ramming themselves into one or more of her openings. Sometimes she would be woken up at 2 or 3 in the morning by a strange man crawling on top of her and parting her legs before forcing himself into her and ramming away until satisfied.
Now I had a special client who wanted to use her. Who was he? A high profile media televangelist who was making a move into politics. He was one of these hardcore Christian fundamentalist types, who rallied against birth control, abortion, rampant sexuality amongst teens....but he still had the needs and desires of a man. I was known for discretion. Many a politician had used some of my more high class girls and knew they could trust me to be discrete. Granted I always had hidden cameras recording it all. If ever I found myself facing any serious prison time in a courtroom, these "respectable" men would receive copies of these videos and become highly motivated to intervene on my behalf behind the scenes. Just a little insurance policy.
What did he like? Young girls. He liked young girls and he liked seeing fear in their eyes, and hurting them, hearing them scream. Cindy looked younger than she was, so I told her to lie about her age so he would believe that in fact she was younger. I had her dressed in a private school uniform, but not one with the stereotypical plaid skirt. That might seem over the top. Instead it was a flat blue skirt. She would definitely fulfill the fantasy in such a way that he would actually believe it was real. I told her to act frightened before penetration, and to pretend he was hurting her when he penetrated. We even rehearsed it a few times together, so she knew how to act it just right without tipping him off that it was an act. She had the whimpers and little frightened yelps perfect without any unnecessary over the top crying out. As one of my higher profile customers he was not required to use a condom.
Of course in addition to the pain she would pretend feeling, the real pain would follow. He liked hurting girls bad, using ridiculously large dildos, whips, and even outright beatings. When he was done with a girl, the bruising on the face and the lash marks on the body tended to render them non profitable for at least a week. He paid good money to compensate for the lost earnings. He also agreed in advance that if any of her teeth ended up broken he would pay for the repair work.
We were in a home out in farm country where nobody could hear her screams.
When he arrived, I greeted him, smiling and treating him with respect. We shook hands and I helped him unload some of his stuff from the car. He always brought really expensive champagne, for which I provided a room fridge, a freezer full of ice and a ice bucket. He also brought expensive caviars, pate's, cheeses...etc. He was a man of refined taste.
He also brought cuffs, restraints, gags, whips, crops, massive dildos that would cause pain and tearing, and even an electric prod to be used both externally and internally. He also brought sewing needles for piercing her more sensitive body parts.
Ushering him into the room, I introduced him to Cindy.
"Holly, I want you to be a good girl and do everything he says, do you understand?" I said kindly and firmly. She nodded, swallowing nervously.
Closing the door, I left them alone and waited in the den. I had a small monitor there that allowed me to see what was happening. I recorded both video and audio, but sensibly had the audio hooked up to ear phones so clients would not hear their actions being transmitted from speakers next door. I didn't need to use the ear phones to know what was happening. Instead I opened a book and began to read as I saw he was speaking to her. I heard a loud slap come through the walls, and looked over at the monitor, to see him gripping her chin tightly, speaking to her in a harsh manner.
He made her start to undress, taking off the jacket from her uniform. As she started fumbling with the buttons of her white shirt, she evidently was going too slow for his liking and he grabbed it tearing it open. He then stepped back and continued to allow her to undress. Once she was naked, he made her pose in different ways while he explored her. Then he undressed himself and moved her over to the bed. I went back to my book, and a few moments later I heard a girlish cry, and new instinctively that he had just penetrated her. Well done Cindy...er...Holly.
After several minutes I could literally hear the bed shaking from the violence of the intercourse, and didn't need to look at the screen as the loud creaking and pounding sounds were accompanied by her frightened whimpers of mock pain. When he was done, he took the time to take the champagne out of the ice bucket and have some, along with a few fine snacks.
Then he took out his cuffs and bindings and started to restrain her. As she had never been tied or gagged before, the fear in her eyes started to look a bit more real to me, as did the shakiness of her movements but she did not resist. After a few moments he had her immobile, unable to defend herself or escape. Then he gagged her and went for his other suitcase. When he opened it in front of her, her eyes almost bugged out of her head. She visibly shuddered at the sight of his "toys". She surely must have realized that this ridiculously sized dildos simply could not enter a human body without inflicting terrible pain and possibly some serious damage. The needles, the whips, crops, paddles, and the electric prod also got her undivided attention. She knew she was in for an ordeal at this point, and he had booked her until 4 PM.
Leaving the den I went to the kitchen to make some coffee. Preparing the grinds, and setting up the coffee maker I started hearing some cries of pain coming from the room. These were different than before. These were not faked. When the coffee finally brewed, I started to pour my coffee when an ear splitting scream of agony reverberated through the house. This kept up on and off until 4. Good thing I brought my i-pod and was able to listen to music as I read.
At four, I checked the camera and saw him step into the ensuite bathroom and shower, before he came back out in his suit and tie. Smiling he came up to me, and handed me an envelope with cash. I did not need to count it. He was a long standing client.
"Hey, I got a few spare playoff tickets" he said cheerfully to me as he reached into his suit pocket and handed me four of them.
"Thanks!" I said, shaking his hand and walking him out to his car. Seeing him off I headed back inside and went to check out Cindy. When I entered the room, she was curled up, shaking and whimpering, probably in shock. I pulled the covers off as she snivelled pathetically. Her face was swollen, with bruises, and blood coming from her nose and lip. Grabbing her jaw I opened her mouth and inspected her teeth to make sure none were broken. She had blood on her inner thighs and dripping out from between her buttocks, but nothing too serious. Her breasts and nipples had been quite abused but would recover. Bite marks all over, lash marks. She would not be much use until those injuries healed up a bit, but that is why he paid me so much.
"OK, get up, clean yourself and let's get going" I said gently. She kept whimpering and staring off into space.
Crack! The sound of my slap echoed through the room. Grabbing her jaw I leaned in close. "Get cleaned up and let's go!" I said firmly. She crawled out of the bed, took a quick shower and got dressed.
For the whole drive home she just shivered and sniffled. It was annoying but at least she didn't try to talk. That would have been fucking irritating.
Ushering Cindy into the room, I closed the door and spoke to her firmly.
"OK he should be here soon" I said looking at the clock and seeing it was almost noon. "Now remember, when he gets here, your name is Holly and you follow the rest of the script", she nodded submissively as I encouraged her kindly stroking her cheek gently.
It was carrot and stick with the girls in this business. You had to use a firm hand on them to keep them in line, but you also had to know when to be the nice guy. Excessive brutality with rental cunt makes them immune to it. What you want them to see is that you can also be kind; that way they are always striving to keep you happy. Of course the undertone of threat has to always be present.
What kind of girls do I have, and how do I employ them? We have all kinds. Some we get from our Russian contacts who acquire girls via promises of work contracts in the US. They get the girls to us, we pay them a fee, for which we get the girl and her passport. Some are just girls from broken homes, runaways and such. We get them and then we put them to work. Of course local girls always get relocated to another part of the country if we get them in their home town.
Some work in massage parlours, massaging creepy men, jerking them, blowing them and fucking them. Some work the streets. Some of the riskier ones are kept in rooms in a seedy motel we own, and the rooms are locked from the outside. Clients pay us for time slots usually denominated in half hour intervals for those ones. Some guys will pay a half hour slot for something relatively quick, while others will buy two or three consecutive half hour slots for something a little more. They can do what they want with the girl during their allotted time, so long as they don't leave marks. The ones working the street tend to negotiate fees by what act the client is requesting. All girls are heavily supervised.
Yes, there are times you just need to make an example of a girl and when I did that I never took unnecessary pleasure in it. It was just business. Sometimes girls hold out on cash, other times they start trying to get away. Stupid shit like that and when it happened you had to hurt them badly so they understood that disobedience would not be tolerated.
The problem with beatings is you had to be careful not to damage the face, or to leave bruising to the body such that customers would be turned off. Whipping the feet or burning them with cigarettes was good for that, but then the girl hobbled awkwardly when walking which didn't look graceful if she was actually a street walker. If she was working in a upstairs store "massage parlour" that was fine though. We could use electricity, use of objects forced into the vagina...etc to inflict pain on a girl, but it was a constant struggle to find ways to keep the disobedient in line without hurting their profitability.
Some of my competitors were all savagery and no business sense. They needlessly killed off their own girls when they angered them which made no sense. Why kill off something that is turning a profit? Sure punish them, but don't kill them unless it is necessary. Those are truly "pimps". I see myself more as a business man, who provides a service. Granted it has happened where I have had to dispose of a girl who was becoming a liability but that was always the last resort and I always made it clean, never making a spectacle of it. For example, one of my former girls, a girl named Shelly had been speaking with an investigative reporter about the sex trade and the girls who were caught up in it. The reporter was also talking with the police and if Shelly could help her out, she was promising to get her out and help her relocate. Naturally when I found out about this, Shelly had to go. I told her I was driving her to see a client, as I saw no need to torment her with the knowledge of her impending fate. Why do that? It just causes them to try something stupid. Keep them in the dark and they stay passive, walking willingly to their doom. We drove upstate, in some wilderness area an hour north of cottage country. I told her he was a rich client and had a cottage. I stopped on a road and told her his cabin was about 200 yards into the bush and that he wanted us to approach from the rear so his neighbors didn't see. I could tell she found this odd, but she knew that everything about our wealthier clients was odd. As she had been with many clients who were into BDSM she thought nothing of it when I cuffed her and gagged her before we headed over. I assured her that compared to some of her clients this guy was relatively gentle. He liked girls tied up and gagged for sex, but he wasn't into beatings. I saw the relief in her eyes at that, as she had been with some real cruel motherfuckers who liked making girls scream. As we walked into the woods, she seemed tense, as though she was nervous about something but that made sense as she was chatting with a reporter. When we came upon the hole that I had already pre-dug, she finally realized what was happening, but she was already cuffed and gagged. She pleaded pitifully through the gag, crying out and struggling as I threw her into the hole, her anguished wails of terror coming through the gag as she fought in the last few seconds of her life to continue living, and not to be buried in the wet muddy hole. I made it quick. Not out of mercy so much as practicality. The more messy you make it, the more evidence you leave. I filled in the hole myself as the more people involved, the more potential witnesses that can turn on you later if the DA offers them a deal. After some hard sweaty work, the hole was filled. Shelly would never be found. Realistically, as far as the world was concerned she had never existed. She had no idea who her dad was, and her mother was a meth tweaker who didn't give two fucks where Shelly was and what she was doing. Her passing was of as much consequence to the world as that of a bug hitting a windshield.
As for the reporter, getting her off of my case was the next order of business, and I took care of that in short order. No I didn't kill her.... Too high profile. Her editor was one of my clients and I explained to him why it might be very embarrassing for all concerned if she continued trying to expose us.
Anyway, back to the present. Cindy had come from a poorer working class home. Her mother was a drunk and her step father was horribly abusive. Instead of approaching a guidance counsellor at her school she ran away, and was quickly snatched up by us. I was nice at first, providing for her needs, acting as a caring older boyfriend, but what she didn't realize was that with every gift I purchased, and every meal I paid for, and every joint I let her share, she was running a tab with heavy interest. It's a pretty standard routine. When I came to her to pay up she seemed dumbfounded. She clearly did not have that kind of money, and so I beat her savagely. When I was done I raped her. Leaving her locked in a room, I came in several times over the next week, abusing and raping her while withholding food. This is how you break their spirit. It was a matter of time before she accepted her new lot in life. In no time I had her sucking me and fucking me like it was nothing. Anything to keep me from hurting her. She even learned to pretend she liked it. The first time I took her in the ass, she howled like a banshee, screaming in pain the whole time before I released myself inside her bowels. But even that she eventually learned how to take without screaming. She always gritted her teeth and crunched her fists up tightly, grunting and even whimpering but not screaming.
Cindy had then been moved to the hotel, where strange men came in at all hours, 24/7 to thrust themselves into her body and use her like an object as they grunted and sweated, ramming themselves into one or more of her openings. Sometimes she would be woken up at 2 or 3 in the morning by a strange man crawling on top of her and parting her legs before forcing himself into her and ramming away until satisfied.
Now I had a special client who wanted to use her. Who was he? A high profile media televangelist who was making a move into politics. He was one of these hardcore Christian fundamentalist types, who rallied against birth control, abortion, rampant sexuality amongst teens....but he still had the needs and desires of a man. I was known for discretion. Many a politician had used some of my more high class girls and knew they could trust me to be discrete. Granted I always had hidden cameras recording it all. If ever I found myself facing any serious prison time in a courtroom, these "respectable" men would receive copies of these videos and become highly motivated to intervene on my behalf behind the scenes. Just a little insurance policy.
What did he like? Young girls. He liked young girls and he liked seeing fear in their eyes, and hurting them, hearing them scream. Cindy looked younger than she was, so I told her to lie about her age so he would believe that in fact she was younger. I had her dressed in a private school uniform, but not one with the stereotypical plaid skirt. That might seem over the top. Instead it was a flat blue skirt. She would definitely fulfill the fantasy in such a way that he would actually believe it was real. I told her to act frightened before penetration, and to pretend he was hurting her when he penetrated. We even rehearsed it a few times together, so she knew how to act it just right without tipping him off that it was an act. She had the whimpers and little frightened yelps perfect without any unnecessary over the top crying out. As one of my higher profile customers he was not required to use a condom.
Of course in addition to the pain she would pretend feeling, the real pain would follow. He liked hurting girls bad, using ridiculously large dildos, whips, and even outright beatings. When he was done with a girl, the bruising on the face and the lash marks on the body tended to render them non profitable for at least a week. He paid good money to compensate for the lost earnings. He also agreed in advance that if any of her teeth ended up broken he would pay for the repair work.
We were in a home out in farm country where nobody could hear her screams.
When he arrived, I greeted him, smiling and treating him with respect. We shook hands and I helped him unload some of his stuff from the car. He always brought really expensive champagne, for which I provided a room fridge, a freezer full of ice and a ice bucket. He also brought expensive caviars, pate's, cheeses...etc. He was a man of refined taste.
He also brought cuffs, restraints, gags, whips, crops, massive dildos that would cause pain and tearing, and even an electric prod to be used both externally and internally. He also brought sewing needles for piercing her more sensitive body parts.
Ushering him into the room, I introduced him to Cindy.
"Holly, I want you to be a good girl and do everything he says, do you understand?" I said kindly and firmly. She nodded, swallowing nervously.
Closing the door, I left them alone and waited in the den. I had a small monitor there that allowed me to see what was happening. I recorded both video and audio, but sensibly had the audio hooked up to ear phones so clients would not hear their actions being transmitted from speakers next door. I didn't need to use the ear phones to know what was happening. Instead I opened a book and began to read as I saw he was speaking to her. I heard a loud slap come through the walls, and looked over at the monitor, to see him gripping her chin tightly, speaking to her in a harsh manner.
He made her start to undress, taking off the jacket from her uniform. As she started fumbling with the buttons of her white shirt, she evidently was going too slow for his liking and he grabbed it tearing it open. He then stepped back and continued to allow her to undress. Once she was naked, he made her pose in different ways while he explored her. Then he undressed himself and moved her over to the bed. I went back to my book, and a few moments later I heard a girlish cry, and new instinctively that he had just penetrated her. Well done Cindy...er...Holly.
After several minutes I could literally hear the bed shaking from the violence of the intercourse, and didn't need to look at the screen as the loud creaking and pounding sounds were accompanied by her frightened whimpers of mock pain. When he was done, he took the time to take the champagne out of the ice bucket and have some, along with a few fine snacks.
Then he took out his cuffs and bindings and started to restrain her. As she had never been tied or gagged before, the fear in her eyes started to look a bit more real to me, as did the shakiness of her movements but she did not resist. After a few moments he had her immobile, unable to defend herself or escape. Then he gagged her and went for his other suitcase. When he opened it in front of her, her eyes almost bugged out of her head. She visibly shuddered at the sight of his "toys". She surely must have realized that this ridiculously sized dildos simply could not enter a human body without inflicting terrible pain and possibly some serious damage. The needles, the whips, crops, paddles, and the electric prod also got her undivided attention. She knew she was in for an ordeal at this point, and he had booked her until 4 PM.
Leaving the den I went to the kitchen to make some coffee. Preparing the grinds, and setting up the coffee maker I started hearing some cries of pain coming from the room. These were different than before. These were not faked. When the coffee finally brewed, I started to pour my coffee when an ear splitting scream of agony reverberated through the house. This kept up on and off until 4. Good thing I brought my i-pod and was able to listen to music as I read.
At four, I checked the camera and saw him step into the ensuite bathroom and shower, before he came back out in his suit and tie. Smiling he came up to me, and handed me an envelope with cash. I did not need to count it. He was a long standing client.
"Hey, I got a few spare playoff tickets" he said cheerfully to me as he reached into his suit pocket and handed me four of them.
"Thanks!" I said, shaking his hand and walking him out to his car. Seeing him off I headed back inside and went to check out Cindy. When I entered the room, she was curled up, shaking and whimpering, probably in shock. I pulled the covers off as she snivelled pathetically. Her face was swollen, with bruises, and blood coming from her nose and lip. Grabbing her jaw I opened her mouth and inspected her teeth to make sure none were broken. She had blood on her inner thighs and dripping out from between her buttocks, but nothing too serious. Her breasts and nipples had been quite abused but would recover. Bite marks all over, lash marks. She would not be much use until those injuries healed up a bit, but that is why he paid me so much.
"OK, get up, clean yourself and let's get going" I said gently. She kept whimpering and staring off into space.
Crack! The sound of my slap echoed through the room. Grabbing her jaw I leaned in close. "Get cleaned up and let's go!" I said firmly. She crawled out of the bed, took a quick shower and got dressed.
For the whole drive home she just shivered and sniffled. It was annoying but at least she didn't try to talk. That would have been fucking irritating.