The Exclusive Sex Worker Novel Novels & Stories

she queried in a breaking voice. “Well, forgive me for not telling you earlier, but that wasn’t why I was working in a brothel, I wasn’t doing it because I couldn’t get a decent job, I wasn’t doing it because I was indebted to Susan. I was a damn sex worker because that was the only way I could keep up with my insatiable desire for sex, I was doing it because I was a nymphomaniac, a sex freak, I can’t survive a few hours without sex, I can’t resist the urge to do it at the slightest chance I get… don’t pity me, I am not asking for that, just hear me out.” She uttered as tears rolled down her eyes.

"Yes, Master. And what would you like me to do, Master? Right now?" "I assume you can type? Yes? There's a computer and printer in the office through there." He points at another door. "You can start by writing a letter of resignation. After that, you can join me in the bedroom." I wake up in my dingy bedroom, and for a moment, I stare up in confusion at the ceiling, the events of the previous day swirling up inside me. It seems unreal—fantastic but unreal. I shake my head. After meeting and having mind-blowing sex with a complete stranger, he offered me a job as his ... his what? Courtesan? Call girl? And I accepted.

Elise’s POV I stayed exactly as he had left me, bent over the reading table, cheek against the cool wood, skirt tangled around my ankles, the open manuscript only inches from my face. Grant’s cum was already sliding down the insides of my thighs in slow, warm trails. The air in the special-collections room felt heavier now, thick with the scent of sex and old paper and the faint trace of his cologne. He stepped closer. The wet head of his cock brushed my lower lip. I opened without being told.

She grabbed the left lapel of my suit and seductively, coed, “Sir, we—“ I held her wrist and pulled her forward leaving her stupefied as her pretty blues widened. Halting her when she’s a breath away from me. I pecked her right cheek and whispered in her ear, “Fuck off, I’m engaged.” With that I pushed her back, making her stumble back. I walked away leaving the stunning beauties. I fished out my phone and messaged James to tip all the workers generously from my tab. Any other day I would’ve gotten a release before leaving but I was craving for a certain Raven head and I didn’t have a feast before my hunt. With all the malice I knew, these sex workers didn’t deserve our disgust. These women

I let that sit, because sometimes silence does more than words. Then: “I don’t sell fake alcohol.” I said calm and certain. He watches me, like he’s trying to decide if I believe myself. I don’t need him to. “They collapsed in your club.” “She,” I corrected. “One person.” He taps the file. “Still enough.” I lean back slightly. “And the rest?” His brow lifts. “The sex workers.” There it is, the angle they actually want.I hold his gaze. “People choosing what to do with their own bodies isn’t illegal.”

Back to work. It becomes pattern. Every promotion, a session. I climb fast. Office whispers. But I don't care. The sex gets better. She adds toys. Plugs in my ass during day. Vibrate meetings. I squirm. Cum in pants once. She cleans me in bathroom. Sucks my cock dry. One night, overtime. Her office. She bends me over window. City lights below. Dildo slams in. Hard pegging. My cum shoots on glass. Streaks down. She licks it off later. Kisses me. Shares the taste. Ambition fuels me. Her dominance drives me.

Men and women were having sex openly on leather benches, padded tables, and plush rugs, using whips, restraints, and various toys. Unfiltered moans echoed off the walls. It was a complete sex den. "Welcome to the den of freedom," I said, trying to sound confident and smooth. "I found this place a few months ago when I needed an escape." I turned to look at Jay, expecting to see curiosity or excitement, but the words died in my throat. The warmth on his face was completely gone. His eyes were wide with pure horror, his lips parted as he took in the sight of two men on a table nearby.

"Yeah. I remember. What about it?" "I went to that exclusive, underground club downtown," I whispered, weaving the web seamlessly. "I was sitting at the VIP bar, completely out of it, when that exact girl approached me. She was wearing a trashy, revealing outfit, Lake. She was a sex worker. A cheap, high-end whore trying to hustle a quick buck from the wealthy clients in the back rooms." I watched the words hit him like a physical blow. The absolute shock that registered on Lake's face was art. His chest flattened, his jaw dropping slightly as his mind struggled to process the information.

**Story 5: The Last Train** **Chapter 4** The subway car had become a moving prison of pure lust. Maya lay sprawled on the long bench seat, completely naked, body glistening with sweat and cum. Her pussy and ass were red, swollen, and leaking multiple loads from the four men who had already claimed her. Her face, tits, and stomach were streaked with drying semen. She looked — and felt — like a used whore. And she had never been more turned on in her life.

" Destiny shook her hand and introduced herself as well. Jewel giggled nervously and said, 'Honesty I'm not sure where to begin. I guess I'll just start with a bit of my history. I work at a very busy and demanding job. I don't have much of a social life. When I do go out though I like to have sex. Just being honest so please don't judge me. I love my work, but all the stress gets to me through the week so on the weekends when I can find someone, I will more often than not take advantage of the opportunity. Sex relaxes me like nothing else especially good sex. Unfortunately, I've hit a dry spell lately. The few sexual partners I've had have been way too quick and then out they go. I must fin