It hadn't been a good week for Charlotte.
She had already gone through her usual customers, the ones that exhibited a certain kind of loyalty to 25 year old woman. It was already more than halfway through the week and she was beginning to become a bit desperate. Charlotte normally didn't like to refer to herself with the lowly words associated with her profession, but she was really going to have to whore herself out if she couldn't fix this problem today.
The young woman was a pretty beast with her ragged, bleached hair that fell just past her shoulders. She wore a skimpy outfit that revealed the size of her luscious breasts while her shorts perfectly highlighted her ass. To the guilty men that paid her for her services, she represented everything that they were looking for: Cheap enough to hire, Clean enough to respect. In truth, Charlotte took some measure of pride in this appeal. She considered herself an artisan of sorts in her craft and that craft was the blowjob. Originating from an early childhood obsession with thumb-sucking; Charlotte rediscovered her oral fixation with her numerous boyfriends in high school, continued refining her skill on countless frat boys in college, and later perfected her craft on the professors she blew to graduate.
Charlotte enjoyed blowing the middle class men she did, the pleasure they echoed when she climaxed them just right. the look on their faces.....was genuine. Sometimes, especially when she was just starting out after leaving everything behind, she wanted to express that feeling to them. But lesser feelings took over and she guilt tripped the poor men into paying for more than just a blowjob.
"I thought I might try one last time." said a deep, resonating voice.
Charlotte was pulled from her silent brooding to see that the husky man with a dark goatee had returned once more. He sat in his car alongside her in the empty parking lot with his window down.
"I already told you mister, you play by my rules or not at all." Charlotte offered him "Go find some hooker that doesn't have some self- respect." The mystery man was a weirdo, that was for sure. He had come once every week offering her "the experience of a lifetime." No matter how attractive he was to the 25 year old woman, the man was still peddling bullshit and she hated bullshit.
"Ah, but that's why I'm so enthralled with you. I came here to make you one final offer." the man said as he pulled out a plastic bag and handed it to her.
"No fucking way." Was all Charlotte could say. The bag was filled with cash, $100 dollar bills to be precise. She had never held this much of money all at once before.
"Two and a half grand." the man told her, "That's yours to do with as you please. I think you need it more than I do."
Charlotte most definitely needed the cash. This more than covered the month. Perhaps she could......
"You can walk away now, I won't stop you." the man continued, "but I can offer you so much more than that if you just get into my car. Is that such an extreme request?"
"Can't you just fucking tell me what you want!!!" Charlotte shouted.
The well groomed man raised his shoulders incredulously, "But what else my dear, but the experience of a lifetime? You're a smart woman and I'm a persistent lone man. This should be rather straight forward."
"What???" she laughed, "Are you some kind of Dominant Daddy fetishist?"
His response was bare, "In so many ways you are right, more than you could possibly know. And yet you are so wrong. I ask you once more, will you come with me?" he said, his offer truly feeling final.
Charlotte loved mysteries, the allure of the unknown. This man was appealing to her so much and she knew it. Charlotte's instincts told her to run with the money, but something else pulled her towards the car. It felt like a calling on a spiritual level. Charlotte had long fastened her seat-belt by the time the doubt finally kicked in.
"I'm glad you decided to come along. You're not going to regret this!" he proclaimed as he drove off, "But first things first, I'm Micheal Sunderland!"
"You can just call me Charlotte mister, I don't need to know anything else about you save for what you want me to do." she said.
"Well...." he started to say as if trying to contain himself. "I'm an adjuster......."
Those were the only words Charlotte needed to hear. She had heard all about these kinds of psychopaths, the sick fetishists that got their fucked up kicks through sexually abusing Agetrippers. She wasn't going to allow herself to become some sex slave, she was better than that.
Charlotte unbuckled her seat-belt and went for the car door as she simultaneously went for her knife. But Micheal was far quicker than she expected and she felt a sharp needle pierce her arm before darkness took her.