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Post by alphonzetta remus innes on Aug 18, 2010 13:51:35 GMT -5
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It was something like eleven in the evening. It was starting to go dark, and the street lights were doing the annoying flickery thing they did when they couldn't decide if they should come on for good or not. She didn't see the point in them herself. The darkness was friendly, anonymous, and easy to hide it. Plus, the pale moonlight made her look healthy. Well, compared to the orange fluorescents or blue-tinged sodium arc lights anyway. They hollowed her out, making shadows pool under her cheekbones, under her eyes, and in her concave stomach. She hadn't eaten today, but the thought hadn't really entered her mind. One of the other girls was complaining about being hungry, though, so Alphie turned around. "Shut up, Felicia. Go home if you're that hungry, I'll take your business." Of course, her threat was enough for the woman to listen to her and keep her mouth shut, glaring daggers at her back for a moment, until a car was heard coming around the corner.
There was a whole parade of them there last night, at semi-regular intervals on both sides of the street. They hadn't organised it like that, but if they had inquired, they would have found out that each of their bosses held a certain amount of territory on each street to position his girls (or guys) on. First on Alphie's side of the road was a woman with dyed red hair, bleeding lipstick, and overly done purple eyeshadow. She was wearing a red leather mini with matching cropped top, red fishnets, and black biker boots. Alphie didn't know what she was called, but she looked to be around thirty, and didn't often get much business when Alphie was closer to her. The next was Wendy, a girl two years older than Alphie who apparently needed the money for her three year old daughter. She was attractive enough, but she didn't smile as much as some of the others, and tended to be passed off as sombre and weird. Third was Brenda, a coloured girl with waist-length dreads and a penchant for black. She got a lot of the same customers, but rumour was that that was only because she'd let them do whatever they wanted.
Next to Alphie was Felicia, who she only knew because the girls across the road kept calling to her. She was blonde, a typical cheerleader, if you can imagine. She was new, it was clear. She had only been out once or twice, and the feedback hadn't been good. This, they all knew, was her last chance to make it work, or she'd be out on her ass. That didn't bother any of them. More work for them. Not that she ever took much of it. She didn't even look like she wanted to be there. Even Alphie, at fifteen, had had better acting skills. They were kind of important when you were faking orgasms left, right and centre, so it would be better for everyone if she just went home.
Alphie was on the corner of the street, right under a street lamp and next to the empty parking lot that served the stop 'n' shop, on the opposite end of the street to where you could hear the beach when it was quiet. Usually, a car would pull in there, walk back up the street, choose his 'partner' for the ensuing business, and go back to the car. If the girl was to be taken anywhere else - a flat, a hotel or motel room, or somewhere else entirely - Alphie was the one notified, as she was closest. She also had to surreptitiously note every license plate that dealt with them. She saw the headlights and stood up a little straighter. Automatically, her hand raised to flip her hair over her shoulder, and her chest pushed itself out. Her free hand rested itself on her hip. Her clothes and makeup weren't as eye catching as everyone else's, that was for sure, but she knew she'd get her fair share of attention, nonetheless. People seemed to like skinny girls, and she was the smallest of them all, and possibly the youngest.
She was wearing a short school skirt, although it wasn't reminiscent of any private school in the area, and her legs were bare beneath it until your gaze hit her shoes, a pair of typical suede grey heels. High, but not overly so. She didn't want to strain her arches and be out of commission for a week like had happened before. It was the worst week of her life, having people come and go from her house under her father's nose. Thankfully, he had been unconscious most of the time. Her top was white, midriff-baring, and open to the last three or four buttons. Her purple bra was visible if she stood just the right way under the light, but her underwear was a pleasant surprise for those willing to shell out fifty bucks or more. The car was nearing, moving slowly down the street as if perusing the wares, and she felt a familiar sense of nervousness. Would she be rejected this time, or would she be chosen over everyone else? More than anything, she needed a boost in confidence today after listening to her father's tirade about how she wasn't good enough, and that she was a whore and a disappointment. He wouldn't remember it an hour from now, but she would.
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[/blockquote][/blockquote] status: complete word count: 914 date&time: 18th august, roughly 11pm tag: trevor moore outfit: clickersnotes: ew. that sucks. >_> sorry.[/font][/size] |
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Post by trevor on Aug 18, 2010 15:42:39 GMT -5
 Another cigarette, and I'm so bored
(Your words aren't making sense)
AND I WAS TAKEN, BUT YOU WERE WAITING ONE MORE DRINK AND I'M CONVINCED- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - It was late, and Trevor had no reason to be home. His grandparents let him go out for the night, because he had been buy with Paxton the whole week before, and he needed a break. He drove around the small town in his black jeep and really only had two beers before he was bored of the clubs and was out around the town. He wasn't that drunk, but the smell of alcohol was in his breath. He left the club because there was no action there. All the pretty girls had been with other guys, and he was bored there. Sure, he was covered in tattoos, but it was worth it to him. He loved his tattoos.
When he left the house for the night, his grandparents didn't expect him home till the next morning, he always was out drinking all night, and you could tell that he was hungover the next day and he was a real asshole that morning. He was usually a lot nicer, but still an ass at times when he was sober, but tonight he wasn't sober. He wanted some fun, and he was bored at the clubs. He had heard about the girls who always were looking for sex and he never been with one of them before. The last girl he had sex with was Crispen, and she was dead. He was stuck with their baby now. Well, actually his grandmother had her right now.
He drove down a street and another one, and saw lots of girls, the ones he had heard someone at the bar talk about about two hours ago. He looked down the street. The only one that really stuck out to him was the one that wasn't dressed like the others, and was in the front. He swerved around and parked the jeep and got out. His footing was a bit unstable at first and then he was alright. He walked over to the girls and looked around again. Still that same skinny girl stuck out. Why? He didn't actually know. the alcohol in his brain was killing his thoughts.
Taking one of his tattooed completely arms, he ran his hand threw his hair and looked at her. He blinked his brown eyes at her and smiled at her. He was just a bit buzzed, nothing to bad. He looked her over, her white shirt open almost all the way, her short skirt drew him in slightly. She looked nothing like the others, and he liked it. They were all over done a tiny bit, and he liked that she wasn't. She looked rather downplayed. He stood in front of her, not really sure what to say to her. He was still very new about the whole picking up a prostitute and taking her somewhere. The sex would be nothing, just picking out the girl, and wondering how much was a different story.
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(W O R D S ! ?) ii dunno!
(S T A T U S ! ?) FINISHED!?
( O U T F I T! ?) heree
(N O T E S ! ?) rawwrrrr
(C R E D I T !?)this lovely template was made by dear joey AKA xoxsilvermoonox of the lovely CAUTION 2.0 don't steal this or else I will send my rabid heffalumps and woozles after you!! (: the lyrics are by the amazing METRO STATION, control |
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Post by alphonzetta remus innes on Aug 18, 2010 16:08:05 GMT -5
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The expression on her face was indifference, mainly, with just a hint of amusement. They were all so eager to get laid, when she could easily go without it. If she had wanted to, she could have gone to a club and taken a nice boy home with her, but her reasoning was why should she give away something for free if people were willing to pay for it? As long as she was still wanted by people, even if the majority of them were balding, forty-something businessmen with other things on their minds. She soon managed to turn them around, doing anything in her power to make them feel better about whatever stress was on their mind. She was a healer, of sorts, although she wouldn't have come to this conclusion, and although it was fair to say that she didn't always love her job, she didn't exactly hate it either.
The car fishtailed slightly as it pulled into the curb in the middle of the street. Clearly, he hadn't done this before. There were rules, procedures, protocol, for heaven's sake! Plus, getting out in plain view of all the horny prostitutes was never the best idea. As the car door opened, Alphie watched every single female take a step closer to the car. She remained motionless, apart from the small movement of her wrist, which was twirling a curl around her finger as one side of her mouth quirked up into a lopsided smile that seemed to improve her allure to most people. Her eyes followed him as he walked amongst the women, hearing some of what they said to him. "Oh, you're a looker." "Got a hot one here, girls." "Wanna come to my place for some hot lovin', honey?" It went on, but Alphie remained silent, willing herself not to shake her head and roll her eyes at the degradation going on around her.
When he stopped to stare at her, she looked around, pointedly, catching the attention of each person. Reluctantly, they took a step back, and Alphie walked towards the boy, swinging her hips and widening her smile to match his. "First time?" She asked, her voice low and sultry. Her eyes flickered up and down his body, and then amended. "You've not been down here before." She said this with certainty. She would have remembered him, or heard something about him. As she thought this, her heart skip-jumped as a flash of recognition ran through her mind. She knew him. Did he recognise her? Surely not! They were in the same grade, yes, but she was unassuming, and he didn't seem the type to pay attention. Praying that he didn't know who she was, her top teeth caught her bottom lip as she took another seductive step towards him. She leaned towards him slightly, affording him a better view of her cleavage, and allowing her to whisper to him. "Don't worry about this riff raff."
Flipping her hair over her shoulder again, this time exposing the pale, unmarred flesh of her slender neck, Alphie turned slightly more business like. "What're you looking for, darlin'?" She asked, the pet name betraying the fact that her roots were safely anchored in New York. "Prices depend on the gal. Handjobs range from ten to thirty dollars. Blowjobs from twenty five to fifty. Regular sex in your car's fifty to seventy, anywhere else is sixty to ninety. Kinky sex from one fifty to two hundred, depending on what it is you fancy." She fell silent, running over the price list in her head, making sure she hadn't missed anything. There weren't many rules to liaising with any of the girls, but the prices changed regularly, and she didn't want to cock up on her first night as Head.
Stepping back to give him a little room, a little thinking space, Alphie went over to Wendy. "Don't think he's your type, love." She muttered in the blonde's ear, maliciously. "But don't worry, I'm sure you'll get one before the end of the night. Hope you do, anyway, for your own sake." Her voice had been little more than a whisper, quieter than the clack of her heels on the concrete, but that didn't stop her worrying that someone had overheard her and would judge her from it. She didn't judge, but hated the idea that she might be being judged. "Anyone or anything in particular strike your fancy?" She asked, walking back over to Trevor. "My name's Zeta, by the way." She pronounced it Zee-tah. "I can introduce you to anyone you wish." She elaborated, smiling semi-professionally, unable to help herself as her eyes roamed over his body again.
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[/blockquote][/blockquote] status: complete word count: 812 date&time: 18th august, roughly 11pm tag: trevor moore outfit: clickersnotes: ew. that sucks. >_> sorry.[/font][/size] |
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