Pimpology Novels & Stories

She shook her head. I turned back to the man who reminded me too much of my own father. I twisted his dick as Mas and Turo held him still for the punishment. "I'm going to make it my mission in life to make sure you are stuck in the worst prison. There were girls on your list, Winny. Know what the Brunos and Billys of prison do to men who pimp kids?" His eyes tried to roll back up into his head.

He ended up prostituting himself on the street, for some money to help him survive, and it didn't take long for him to fall into the clutches of a pimp and keep almost everything he had earned. Without studying since he was 14, and used as if he were an inflatable doll for the satisfaction of unscrupulous men, who had wives and children at home, and liked to fuck boys in secret, Daniel started getting into drugs. After the beatings given by customers, due to apathy about sex, and beatings given by pimps, due to complaints from customers, was a step.

A cheap pimp, who would never hesitate to destroy the lives of anyone who came into his trap. Paul Worthington had been born into a middle-class family, the son of honest, hard-working parents. He had rejected their way of living and had soon found a career for himself as a pimp. He wanted easy money. And what better way to get it than to take to a life of crime? So he had begun as a small-time crook, a peddler, then became a pimp. Somewhere along his journey of climbing to the top, he turned to making sleazy porn movies. It had been a step towards fame and making mountains of cash. He was always on the lookout for new faces to star in his triple-X-rated films that involved a lot of rough se

“Smartness is part of the trade.” “Prostitution rings. Drugs. Underground fighting,” Antony said, his finger raising with each vice he listed. The list could go on and on, but it was nothing Maksim hadn’t heard. If it brought in more money and power, you could bet Papa had a sticky finger in it. “BDSM clubs. Hotels.” “Business is business.” “But you handle yours differently.” Comparing him to Papa was no way to win him over. But this was good. The police needed him, so he wouldn’t have to worry about being friends with the mayor.

He walked to the bedroom door and opened it. "Come in, girls! Party time!" he announced, and two prostitutes, already naked, entered the room. "Now, Irina, I'm going to have a lot of fun with the girls and you're going to watch and learn how to please your husband." The things that happened in that room would shock any pimp. Everything those three did was too much even for me. I lost track of how long that orgy lasted, but when it was over, I was swearing to myself that this old man was going to regret having handcuffed and gagged me to fuck two prostitutes in front of me.

I froze, trying to process this novel, unexpected experience, while Jeff panted above me. Early exposure to a particularly unfortunate strain of commercial p**n had discouraged me from ever trying this before. Said p**n involved straight guys who were perfectly willing to let their carrot be waxed by another man for money, so long as they didn't have to do any of the dirty work themselves. So rimming had become synonymous in my mind with a particularly submissive (okay, guilty as charged, but, please!) kind of guy who'll do anything to get a man off without expecting any reciprocation.

I’d have taken my revenge long ago, but Xavier had ordered me to stand down. Being here stirred the old rage. Still, I decided to stay and see how the whole thing operated. I regretted it within two hours. Watching depraved old men get excited about buying young girls was… nauseating. We were each handed an iPad displaying the names, ages, and photos of the girls on offer. There were nearly three hundred of them. I was mindlessly scrolling when one caught my eye. Number 102. I frowned, wondering if my vision was playing tricks on me.

"Hey, the little bitches know what they were getting themselves into. And I ain't got no control if the little sluts want to make some money on the side by selling their pussies and assholes to anyone who will pay them." Isaac snorts. "You're forgetting to mention your guys who pimp them to your clients and take a cut of the price for your own pocket." "It's a good business model," he slurs, drunk already despite the early hour. Isaac's fist tightens at his side. "Let's get one thing clear, shall we, Xender? I would never sink low enough to do business with a man like yourself. Though 'man' is too nice of a word to use to describe the likes of you.".

His hand reduced the volume of his stereo speakers. “My brother,” Pimp Zee shook his hand again. “Been a while since I caught sight of your ass around. How come you ain’t stopped by my crib since?” “Too busy working under the sun and rain and not enough time for anything else. How’s your pimping game going on for you?” Zeke killed his cigar in an ashtray and they wound their windows down. “Ain’t got no complaints. You know me, I'm always out looking for young bloods. I’ve got some new sluts in the backseat that need to put in work.”

Then he gestured expansively around him. ‘Are you trying to get us thrown out of here?’ ‘No. I’m trying to get you to the point, remember?’ At that he shrugged good-naturedly. “So you are.’ Suddenly he was serious again. ‘Since you ask such a direct question, you deserve a direct answer. No, I’m not, as you say, a pimp. I am, however, in a strange position of having a large number of ... of business contacts who are not averse to the company of beautiful, accomplished and intelligent women who...’