Roses & Thorns

Chapter One: Mouth Shut

There's nothing glamorous about being a whore. Maybe the job of an escort came with some florid perks but a girl could only be so lucky. There was a fine line that I was quite familiar with at this point, therefore, I wasn't offended.

So when my service was requested, I did exactly what I had been accustom to doing for the past few months. I went into the employee bathroom of Lush, starred at my reflection in the mirror for five minutes while circulating the same four words in my mind: Independent, Safe, Sometimes Smart. It was the only thing that gave my job a purpose. I had to ensure my well being to some extent.

"Rose, wrap it up, you have a client out here waiting for you." I heard my supervisor, Mr. Roth, say in his gravely voice.

I sighed heavily, giving my reflection one last glance before turning to leave the bathroom. 

Mr.Roth was exceptionally short and had the worlds farthest receding hairline as a result of poor genetics.

"Sorry, I had to freshen up." I lied.

"Just remember," he began without acknowledging or caring about my time in the bathroom, "no sex. I reminded your guy but you can never be too careful." He said to me as if this were my first week as a Lush girl.

I'd been here for almost 4 months already and though it had been difficult for me in the beginning to understand what this grotesque job entailed, I was no longer considered a novice.

"I know Mr. Roth." I said, approaching the back door of the club. He gave me a nod then walked in the opposite direction as I accosted the gray Benz that would lead me to my fate tonight.
• • • • • •
Steven Greene, or Master as he liked me to call him, brought me to his Upper West Side apartment with that giddy smile he always wore when he requested my services. Even worse, he insisted on awkward small talk at each stop light. I hated small talk with anyone and Steven was no exception even if he was a frequent client that paid me on a consistent basis.

"I had an exhausting day at work." He said, kicking off his shoes once we entered the apartment. "So tease me, play with yourself, and then let me-"

"I got it." I said quickly before the words that followed made me gag.

Lush provided very unique services. Young, conventionally attractive women were employed as shot girls, strippers, or "Lush girls" for the club that serviced men off all ages. The same girls were always up for request meaning, if a man wanted her, he could have her at any time in any place. For a price.

Usually the request was for a simple lap dance or even a strip tease in a private room. However, sex was never an option and the only sexual acts we could undergo was foreplay. Hand jobs, blow jobs, anything involving a dildo, was approved. But of course, there were very specific exceptions.

It was a basic concept but some clients took it to new levels and channeled their inner sadist to enhance their pleasure against the stringent limitations.

Steven Greene was exactly that type of client because he was above the rules. No one could tell him otherwise.

I set my purse down on one of his gaudy pieces of furniture and scanned the room quickly before he came out of his walk-in closet.

Greene had something to prove being nouveau riche in Upper Manhattan with flamboyant art pieces hanging from his walls and golden speckled couch cushions. But above all, he had to prove to me that he exercised control because of all of his money. Which was why I was stuck here with him in the first place and why I would never find what I was looking for.