MISTY BLUE

Chapter 1: Something Like The Nightshift

Chapter 1: Something Like The Nightshift

Motel Room, Red Light District, Baltiney, New York...

       The curious onset of early morning drizzle greeted the vast number of citizens who had ventured out into the open either casually or briskly hustling to get to their respective destinations as the beginning of another day meant a good deal of money and time being spent for each of them. One such citizen had not been in much of a hurry to get the day started, at least not until after the convenient excuse of check-out time as the rain continued to pour in the backdrop as a slumbering blonde seemed to toss and turn amid the messy crisp white sheets of the moderately neat motel bed that had been her means of obtaining a much-needed rest. She didn't start her night alone as the dawning of a new day implied as her most recent lover had gone shortly after their unseemly act amid the darkness of the room had come to an end. The slumbering blonde was something of a commodity in the late night hours when strolling the darkened street corners in search of the next gentleman caller to spend the night with as a means of supporting herself.

She was a decent-looking young woman, slender in her build with crisp baby blue eyes that seemed to heighten the attraction of many a man whenever they came to seek out her services. Her youth had been another ideal factor as the men who came to see her often had it in their minds that they'd be able to teach her a thing or two. Whether it had been about sex or the delicate balance of pleasure and pain, she had already been well-versed in such horrific lessons ever since she'd taken the initiative and run away from home.

She'd been sixteen at the time and the bastard that had elected to give her an adult education of sorts had been an entirely unwanted teacher in the form of her father. She was told from the moment she was born the bastard had been her father, a vile drunk and meth addict by the name of Kent Davers. Her long-suffering mother had been lost in the constant fogged haze of drugs and did little to nothing to go against the bastard who had free reign to do what he pleased once his daughter began to come of age.

The slumbering blonde continued to toss and turn amid the white bedsheets as she found herself trying to escape the torment from the erosion of memories that manifested themselves as her latest round of nightmares. Her name, whenever she cared to acknowledge it, had been Melissa for lack of actual inspiration on the part of her druggie other.

Melissa Karen Davers.

She had always found it to be something of a hindrance rather than an honor to be linked to the disgusting bastard who had not been secretive about his designs upon his child and the woman whose brain was practically mush as a result of her continued drug use. When she took off from the rundown and largely forgotten trailer park that had been her only home for the past seventeen years of her existence, she managed to do away with the name. Choosing one that symbolically reflected her trauma from the past and paved the way for a new future, a future far away from the place and people who had made her life a living hell by the sheer aspect of her having been born to them.

Once she'd gotten a taste of what life had to offer, a few harsh lessons in the way of trusting people, especially men who seemed to be more or less a mix of the bastard she left behind or determined to take her under their wing as some kind of pet project. Neither of these sat well with her as she found herself carving her path by way of learning all there was to know about survival whether she wished for the lesson or not.

She took to calling herself Misty.

It seemed fitting enough and easier for the clients to remember should they ever return to her for an encore performance so to speak.

As the minutes passed, Misty seemed to have had enough struggling to sleep and she sat up swiftly drenched in sweat to the point of her wild blonde locks sticking to her forehead and shoulders as she tried her best to recollect her surroundings. She found that she'd been naked from head to toe and a bit sore from her previous exploits with the most recent of her clients as she took note of the sheet falling from her chest and revealing her small but pert breasts. The lingering chill from the early morning air coupled with the coldness from the changing weather had left her rather pinked nipples as hard as diamonds as she took a moment to catch her wayward breath.

Her heart was beating about a mile a minute as if she'd just run a marathon as the fragmented images of her unwanted memories seemed to still linger despite her being awake to fend them off completely.

She turned her attention toward the half-full round glass on the end table beside her, realizing it had been the leftover vodka her former client had taken upon himself to ply her with when they first arrived. He'd been another of the married type, seeking comfort in the form of sticking his cock into the nearest woman that had not been his frigid wife who had been lacking in terms of sexual gratification.

Misty sighed taking the glass in her rather shakey hand before rapidly drinking it down.

Once she'd finished it, and the usual sting in the back of her throat further contributed to her being largely awakened, she felt the inevitable sensation of pressure on her bladder and sighed. She had always dreaded having to walk about on the cold floor after recently awakening but it couldn't be helped as her need to use the bathroom had been greater than her desire to linger amid the warmth of the sheets that had been effortlessly provided by her body heat.

With one more sigh in resignation as to what she needed to do, Misty pulled back the wrinkled white bed sheet and braced for the cool air hitting her naked body as her feet touched the floor and she had been on her way to the bathroom.

She didn't doubt that she'd looked to have been quite the sight should anyone else manage to have been privy to her awakening as she shuffled her way toward the bathroom feeling both the heaviness of her legs and the soreness that had come from a night of unending activity. She'd gotten used to awakening with her legs sore and the ache between her thighs after any number of clients.

Misty shuffled into the bathroom amazed at how clean it was and wincing from both the pain between her legs and the brightness of the light she turned on via switch in a bid to see better when she reached the toilet.

This had been something of a typical morning after one of her apparent "night shifts".

Misty mentally resolved to start her day, despite the cold and the onset of rain knowing all too well that she'd be back on duty so to speak once night fell no matter the weather. After all, life in the vast and chaos-driven city of Baltiney, New York didn't seem to slow down for anyone, not even a working girl like her.