The Audit

Part One: Zachariah Hunter

ZOE

My name is Zoe Daniels, and on the day I turned eighteen, I became an Only Fans model.

My mother, who had just lost her husband a few years ago and was still reeling from the aftermath of taking care of an only daughter who was very rebellious, lost it.

Without batting an eyelid, she gave me a choice. If I was going to become an Only Fans model, then I wasn't going to do it under her roof.

And so on the day I turned eighteen years old, I left my father's house, my head held high, acknowledging that I had chosen my path.

Three years later and my Only Fans career had kicked off successfully.

Sex was something to be enjoyed, something that one didn't have to be ashamed of. I was happy to be the one to show people that they could enjoy sex and other activities patterning to it without having to wear the cloak of shame which society had sewn for us.

I had my own apartment, I paid my own bills and had two cars that I was conflicted on some occasions about which I wanted to drive.

For the last three years, I hadn't spoken to my mother.

Not until this morning.

I was preparing my digital camera to give my fans some content for the morning when my phone vibrated, the shrill sound interrupting the process of slipping my long, veiny dildo into my wet, throbbing vagina.

Irritated, I picked the call, wondering why an unrecognisable number was calling me so early.

“Hello?”

“Zoe.”

My mother's voice brought back memories I wanted to keep buried. All I remembered of her was her on my eighteenth birthday screaming that she wasn't going to have a prostitute as a daughter.

Why was she calling a prostitute?

“Mum…what do you want?”

Why was she trying to reach me after three years? I had moved on, I hoped she had done so too.

“Zoe…you have to help me.”

“What do you mean?”

I dropped the dildo I had been holding, my heart clattering in my chest. As much as I hated my mother, her voice sounding so helpless had slightly unnerved me.

“Have you read the news recently? Didn't you hear about what happened to me?”

Hear what?

It had taken me some time to get over her, but I was proud of myself for doing so. I had blocked her number, shut her from my life and faced my career with a determination I didn't know I possessed.

Why in heaven's name did she think I gave two fucks about what happened to her?

“I moved on with my life, mum. I'm sure you did so too. Why do you think I know what happened to you?”

“I'm in prison, Zoe. I'm calling you from a prison cell through a smuggled phone.”

Now, I was completely hooked.

My mother in prison? She was the purest person I knew. A saint. So seriously did she take her activities in the church that she decided to throw her own daughter out on the streets rather than see her turn into “a prostitute.”

How was it possible that she was now in prison?

“Prison? You've got to be kidding me, mum. Is this a plan to get me to come visit you? Because it won't work. You can't change me…I've chosen to be an Only Fans model, and I'm happy with it…”

“Oh, this isn't about your choice of living, Zoe..” My mother's voice clattered into mine, “I'm…I'm not supposed to be in here. I was betrayed…”

I looked at my phone, wondering if it was my mother speaking.

Betrayed? What in heaven's name was going on?

“You…you have to come and see me so I can explain everything to you, Zoe. Please…you have to…”

Even though I had content to prepare, content that took hours to edit after the videoing process, I knew that my mother was more important. If she was in prison as she said, then something was truly wrong.

“Which prison are you in, mum?”

“The Bedford Hills Correctional Facility in Westchester…I'll try my best to include you in the approved visitors list…”

I struggled to hear her clearly as noise in the background of the prison began to interfere with the call.

“I…I have to go, Zoe…I have to go…”

“Mum? Mum?”

The call ended, leaving me staring at my phone in absolute shock.

When I had woken up that morning, I had expected a normal morning filled with content creation and interacting with my fans, but it turned out that fate had other options in store for me.

Putting off my camera, I grabbed my towel as I entered the bathroom.

I was going to prison to see my mother.

__________

The Bedford Correctional Facility was a cold building an hour away from New York.

As I peeled my car through the high gates, I was afforded a view of the obstacles an inmate would have to slip through before escaping.

As much as I wanted to see my mother leave this place, I had to rule out escaping. It clearly wasn't possible.

I forced a smile when I encountered the dark haired man officer behind the glass counter.

His eyes scrutinized me as he spoke.

“ID and inmate number.”

After the call, my mother had sent me a text which contained her ID and inmate number. Retrieving my phone, I called out the required information to the man.

“This way please.”

I was ushered into a small room where a female officer was conducting a search. I rolled my eyes disappointedly as I stepped into the queue of visitors that were being searched.

As the officer gave me a quick pat down, I smiled as I imagined how amazing my content in the prison was going to be.

“Here you go.” I received a slip of paper which boldly had the words “visitor's pass” at the top, and a locker key which made me raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Put your belongings in the locker, you're only allowed some money for the vending machine.”

She handed me a clear, plastic bag where I put in the few dollar bills I had brought along with me.

Scratching the back of my neck, I observed how tight security was and wondered how my mother who loved her privacy was coping.

I sat on one of the chairs in the large hall littered with vending machines while an officer went to fetch my mother.

When I saw her come through the metal doors in the popular orange prison uniform, my entire world seemed to come apart.

And for the first time since I exited my mother's life three years ago, I cried.