I'm Just Pretending to Drive a Minivan

So, there I was, sick as f*ck, working....waiting for something, anything, anyone to happen. None of my regulars were out and I was desperate. This minivan pulls up (why is it that most guys that cruise for chicks drive minivans?? Interesting....) and the window rolls down and Joe Averagemiddleageguy asks me a few questions. He is into weird shit he says and asks me how I feel about degradation (not a fan of it but if I am sick and the price is right, I can be anyone and do anything. Excusing, of course, being sh*t on or gang banged anally by a bunch of guys, etc.).

He says he has tried lots of girls and none of them can give him what he needs, that most of "us" have hang ups, despite the fact that we talk a good game. I am very curious as to what he is talking about but if he just wants to tell me I am scum and sh*t then I can deal with that. See, I have been called scum before and it was awful BUT in this case I would be going into it KNOWING that it was going to happen. Big difference. He and I come to a mutual understanding that we will give this a trial run, he will just drive around and say/ask me various things and depending on my responses - he will decide whether or not I may be a fit candidate for him and his desires.

Now, degradation is one thing, I mean, prostitution (at the level I was at) was pretty much degrading in itself and is mostly about play acting anyways so that did not concern me. When a guy says that he is into weird sh*t that can be anything. I did post a long time ago about a date that got me to wear his daughter's pyjamas and "walk in" on him watching a porno - and I did it. I one time watched this documentary about somewhere in the states and the prostitutes that work the streets there, in it this girl was talking about how one of her dates that she had known for a while decided he wanted her to go to the zoo with him after hours, break into the monkey cage and have sex with them. Personally, I was told about this one guy that used to pick up girls in Vancouver and would hire two to have sex with each other while he watched and jerked his dog off at the same time. I know it sounds retarded but I knew I guy that sold dope to a girl that did it...

Anyways, you can never know what they mean by weird, weird is defined differently by different people. Like how six inches to me may not be the same as six inches to you. This guy and I weren't going to get a chance to step to far into the "weird" part of his fantasy but just deal with the immediate degradation part of things. His main concern and instruction for me was that no matter what he asks me to do, I have to do it. Fine. I have to do exactly what he says, no questions.

I jumped in the van and am told to get on my hands and knees on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Fine, no problem. Then he is telling me I am scum and all that and that I deserve nothing and that he is lucky that he let me into his van. I am lower than a dog...blahblahblah. I am trying to respond appropriately but since I have no idea what he wants me to say, I was finding it hard to play along. "Yes, master?" Is that appropriate??

I am not allowed to look at him, only at the floor. He is driving around and the eventually he pulls over to the side of the road but leaves the van running. I have no idea where we are, we could have been anywhere. He tells me to get on the seat, after I pull my pants down and shove my ass in the air so anyone that walks by can see me. This is where my problem begins...I would take my gear off all the time for "work" but exposing myself like that is not something I was ever comfortable with. But I am not allowed to ask questions, remember? I just have to do it. Reluctantly, I do what he asks.

He is having me wave my ass around and then unrolls the passenger window. He tells me to stay exactly where I am and not to move. He says "Oh, there is 2 young guys about to walk by on your side, I am going to talk to them". Me? I am mortified. I mean, what a position to be in. I know it seems that I could just sit up and get the hell out of there and I can't even explain to you why I didn't do that..but I just didn't.

He says loudly "Hey guys come over here...come on, look at her, do you want to stick your fingers inside her?" I'm like "WHATTTT???" and he just rolls with it demanding me to stay where I am and proceeds to offer these guy ten bucks to do as he asks. It was at this point I had had enough. I sit up and there is no one there. No guys, no fingers, no one. He was just testing me and I failed.

It was really humiliating, he was right. I laughed (with sincerity and with relief) when I realized that there was in fact, no guys there. I just find this story amusing.

No moral, no life lesson, nothing overly heart wrenching here. Just rather humiliating to recant but here it is...because I'm sharing. I am sure this is something for dinner time conversation.

"Can you believe she did that??" "No, I can't. I would NEVER..."

Freddy and Cinnamon

It was a Sunday. Early afternoon..late morning - ish. I may have mentioned in previous posts that Sunday can be a bad day. Don't get me wrong, there are always guys out looking for "girls" but it can be a bad day. Bad day for dope buying too. Bad day to be dope sick, like I was, that Sunday. (As an aside, I will say that EVERY DAY is a bad day to be dope sick.)

I was walking around but basically staying close to the funeral home that was on Dunlevy at Cordova. I had this one girl that has jacked me up more than once bugging me and on top of being sick as a mother f*cker none of my regulars where out looking. So when this black guy (I am only using the term "black" as a descriptive term..I am sure other aspects of my blog are much more offensive than this) pulled up in his teal green family wagon and motioned to me, I was at the window in seconds. He had a proposition for me (don't they all?). Normally, the best kind of date when one is dope sick or is in need, is one close to the red zone and quick. Then the time to get "better" is sooner, obviously. This was not one of those dates - unfortunately he wanted me to go to his house with him and videotape me getting myself off.

SIGH. Masturbating was the last thing I felt like doing. I had been paid to do that before and it isn't an odd request. I remember one time getting picked up by these two young guys whose girlfriend's were in Greece or something and they paid me to do this for them because their girlfriends would not. I wasn't sick that night and it was easy money. THEY don't know if you get off or not - as long as they THINK you do then no harm done. They were hot too, by the way.

But anyways, this Sunday I WAS sick and the last thing I wanted to do was go far from the dope zone but I was desperate. Some one could ask me in a concerned tone "you went to their house? Weren't you worried that they could harm you? Since it is in their environment, etc?" Well, the answer is no. Danger is a part of the game. I wouldn't always go to some guy's houses but it happened.

As I was so unbelievably sick I agreed. I am not going to disclose the amount of money discussed but it wasn't much. His lucky day I guess. So, I get in his car and he introduces himself as we drive to his house. His name was Freddy, he wore a golf type hat and had a small white (yes, in the picture the dog is black - newsflash - that picture isn't him - it is just a pic of a dog and a black guy), rat like dog on his lap. The dog was Cinnamon.

I think that one of the worst types of dates a drug addicted prostitute can get is one that doesn't give a shit about her physical state. That may sound ridiculous because a regular person would think that none of these guys care about a girl's well being. There are those that do though. They at least give you a bit of money to get well first but there are the ones that enjoy the fact that you are sweating and uncomfortable and squirming and desperate and all that. I had told Freddy that I was sick but I didn't know him prior to this date and even though it was obvious that I was a dope addict I didn't want to scare him off with the magnitude of my illness at that moment. Like as if I would be going to do what I was about to do if I WASN'T an addict. But he knew and chose to ignore it maybe. It wouldn't be as fun to watch a film of some girl masturbating if you knew she was there under duress (of sorts).

I am not going to go into graphic detail about what happened while I was at his house but I will mention one thing. When I was dope sick (and it is something I have heard from men and women addicts alike) I could have an orgasm very easily. And it wasn't pleasant like you would think. Your body, when sick, is in a raw state and everything hurts. Orgasms too. So here I am at his house knowing I am going to get off in about 12 seconds and that he wasn't going to be satisfied with that. Not only did he make me continue by telling me he would give me more money but he told me I had to wait for HIM before I made myself finish. By the end of it I was shaking, had had about 10 orgasms and was a million times sicker than I had been when I got there. It was like each time sucked more life out of me. He also was asking me all sorts of sick questions on cam and he was about 30 years older than me. Makes me shiver when I think about it. I didn't have to touch him though - which is always a bonus.

He brought me back downtown after and I never saw him again. This was before the days of web cameras and all that but I can't completely ignore the idea that that tape is still out there somewhere.

I really don't care though, if I must be honest. And yes, Cinnamon watched the whole thing.