Whore (Oliver Sykes Fanfic)

Begging For More

About a week into my stay in the whorehouse, and Madame figured I was ready to start having clients. She'd went over every detail possible and had me tested for various STD's. I was lying down on my bed, reading a book of poetry, to pass the time before my first client was supposed to be there. It was a simple blow-job and that was it. I heard yelled outside the room door and I sat up in bed, wonder who the hell was yelling. It sounded like an argument, instead of the usual yell of 'faster' or 'more'.

"I don't get why you're even mad!" It sounded like Ashley. She was always so nice to me, I didn't think she had it in her to yell like that. "It's what I do, and our relationship isn't gonna change that."

"I just don't like to know that my girlfriend is fucking other guys, I have a right to get mad!" Jake yelled back. That answered my question as to who was yelling. Ashley and Jake had an odd relationship. They argued, they screamed death threats, apologized, fucked, and the cycle continued. In the matter of a week, the cycle was already starting back over again. I sighed and laid back down. They'd be done yelling soon anyway.

"You knew this when we started dating! I was a whore then and I'm still a whore!" Ashley screamed. "I'm not gonna quit just cause you're an insecure prick!"

"I might be insecure, but guess what, I'm not a filthy fucking whore! You'll fuck anything that gives you an invitation to what's between it's legs! That's why you don't mind fucking girls! You fucking dyke!"

"I'm not a dyke! You've fucked guys but I'm not calling you a faggot!" I tuned them out. They made each other feel like shit on a regular basis, yet continued coming back to each other. Their yelling got to the point that Madame Gigi had to call them into her office. My head hurt from the nonsense that had erupted between the two. I honestly didn't get it.

From what I'd gathered, Ashley and Jake met when one of them first came into the house. They must've hit it off quite well, and they began seeing each other. But if that's how they met, then they both met as whores, and are still whores. So what's there to argue about? Jake was mad because he was sharing his girlfriend with whoever Madame assigned her to, and Ashley was mad because Jake was being a dick about it. In my eyes, they both just looked ridiculous. Yelling never solved anything anyway.

Tyler knocked on the door and opened it a little. He gave me a shit-eating grin. I set my book aside, making sure to place a bookmark inside the book.

"Your first client is here. You excited?" He asked, bouncing on his heels. "The noob is finally getting broken in!"

"You're more excited than I am." I replied with a playful eye-roll. He scoffed and held the room door open for me as I walked down the hallway to the room my client was waiting in. "Here goes nothing."

"Wait, hold on. Here." He handed me a small thin, piece of fabric. "You put this on your upper thigh, if things get rough, press this button and someone will come help you." I took it and put it on.

"Thanks." I gave him an awkward thumbs-up and went into the room. It was a dark, dank room. There was a queen-sized bed against a wall and the curtains covered the only window in the room. On the edge of the bed was a man. I'd seen his face before. "Hello there." I said as seductively as I could muster. The man licked his lips. He looked old enough to be my father. I pulled out the white tab that Ashley had shown me the first day.

"Hello, slut. Now come on, I don't have all day." He spat at me. I blinked, a bit taken aback by how he was talking to me. He spoke as if I was trash. Filth. I went over to him, started tugging his pants down followed by his boxers. It was odd, and ugly. I knew what to do, I'd been forced to practise before on Jake, which didn't help our already estranged relationship.