Sordida

by Jason Andrews

  Angie turned around, glared at Amercia with a warning stance to intimidate her.

  “I was joking,” Amercia said, “Have fun guys.”

  Tim walked closer with the buckets once again, now bored of the draw and envious of Angie’s likely two-day paid trip away. Her mind drifted on the monetary value of her surroundings. She wanted her piece of the action.

  Ten

  A

  mercia awoke from a dream where she was on a beach running towards the waves of the sea that was sheer bliss. As she opened her eyes fully to return to the consciousness of the real world, she stretched her legs then turned her head in a panic to make sure the five hundred pounds in cash was still beside her on the bedside cabinet. Vaguely remembering more of the dream, she hadn’t had a holiday in years. Watching all those adverts on the television before drifting to sleep must have embedded into her mind in the early hours. The events of last night had taken its toll on her as the alcohol she consumed was excessive, leaving its pain as the hangover started to set in with memories of numbers written in ink over cocks, testicles and other various body parts in the most fucked up raffle she’d ever had the opportunity to participate. What a fucking night, she thought, no bastard would ever believe it, but I did it. I eventually found Sordida.

  Amercia sat up to check the time on her phone; it was Sunday afternoon already. Having got home in the early hours by a complimentary taxi from Tim Helman who also happened to own part of the taxi firm, what she had witnessed in one evening was mind-blowing. Having finished the prize draw rewarding members that included doctors, lawyers, successful business owners with cash prizes, glass dildo’s, weekend breaks at the Helman House Hotel in room two-three-two, Amercia had been introduced to many members of Sordida over the next few hours of the evening before climaxing the experience back in the dark room. Members welcomed her as if she had known them her whole life, others taking an interest in her accounting studies, while some warmed to her charm intensified by the complimentary rum and cola’s that had been bought for her all evening. Amercia realised last night that for the first time in a long while, she had a sense of belonging. Strangely she was needed and enjoyed the way she was included to feel sexy, intelligent, with a purpose. It was the easiest five-hundred-pounds she had made in her life, and she witnessed the potential of a great opportunity if she could only learn to leave her scruples at the door as she entered. The night had been surreal; she felt as though she was the star of the show with everyone wanting a piece of her as the new girl in town.

  “Nicky, Melissa, get your fucking fannies over here now,” a voice shouted, Amercia now fully awake recognised that voice from the woman down the road with five children, most from different fathers who visited on different days. “I said get your fannies over here. Your fucking dinners on the table.”

  Unaware of her name because Amercia kept herself to herself and barely socialised or spoke to any of her neighbours, she knew this woman was trouble. Most of the violence related incidents in this small council estate all seemed to stem back to her direction. Having heard drug busts, random men shouting in the night, witnessing her fighting with other men and women in the street; now hearing that voice as she screamed her children back indoors was a brutal reminder of Amercia’s current circumstances. Living with a low income in a deprived area with no friends, family in a small bedsit was only a step-up from being homeless in her world. This reality was too much to handle at times, yet the escapism Sordida offered complimented with the extra money was appealing. If she could earn at least earn five-hundred-pound a few times a month, it would enable her to look for a more desirable private flat. Her gut instinct was that with the number of male and female escorts she saw last night, stability and regularity of work at Sordida might not be in the long term all that beneficial. For the current period, there was nothing else around to earn money that quickly.

  Still unsure if Tim Helman would consider her for a long-term plan with Sordida, Amercia felt she had left a good impression on him worthy of extra consideration. He never spoke of his wife or other business ventures to give too much detail of his history away, but the respect he had from the members was noticeable. Tim presented himself as a leader of sexual encounters, a self-assured man who seemed likely to be obeyed by those who knew him well. His club was a good business venture, to have an eye for spotting potential was a skill he had mastered, entrepreneurial and astute. Amercia considered that her nervousness in his presence was associated by his wealthy status more than his personality, with every look she had given him last night, Tim was the pot of gold at the end of her depressing rainbow. She didn’t want to come across needy or beg for it, but he had to know how sincere she was about making her mark on the club to benefit them both. The glimmer of hope that he gave her as he handed the rest of the money promised was a short, simple statement as he opened the taxi door for her.

  “I’ll be in touch in the next few days,” he had said, giving a positive indication that he wanted to see her again, “I’ve got a few ideas I want to run past you to see if we can reach some agreement.”

  Unfortunately, the journey home for Amercia was not as luxurious or elegant sat in the back of a cab making the limousine ride seem a distant memory. She had considered that the rum last night was laced with something since the pounding headaches were not ordinary for her, having almost drunk herself to death at times on a decent night own in the town centre of Plymouth, she hadn’t experienced the thudding pain and drowsiness that swept over her in short bursts often before. Putting it down to a lack of caffeine and more expensive alcohol compared to the cheap brands she drank usually, Amercia considered that her body was just not used to it anymore.

  “For fuck sake, get the fuck in here now you two will you,” that grating voice shouted again to her kids in the street, “don’t you fucking make me come and drag you in ‘ere. It’s getting cold.”

  Amercia wandered out of bed, into the small living room area of the bedsit to sit on the sofa with the laptop loading trying to switch off from the voice of her nuisance neighbours. She hadn’t checked her escort account in over twenty-four hours and was hopeful of some messages from men in the locality here on business desperate for female company on their expenses. Scrolling the endless number of random greetings consisting of, hi, hey, wuu2, Amercia couldn’t see a definitive message indicating a genuine enquiry for a paid meet. Surprisingly, nothing from Jake either and she had assumed he must need to get something off his chest in another role-play psychology session which seemed to turn him on and help his mental state of mind. I need to get my fucking shit together, she thought to herself, I don’t know how much longer I can cope stacking shelves because I barely survive.

  While online, Amercia browsed to the webcam show site where she occasionally stripped off for men online, but she wasn’t in the mood today for any self-loving action. Looking at herself perform on camera while others she couldn’t at times see observed was a strange experience. It was an act that required an adaptable skillset of game-playing and teasing to convince guys to part with their credits. The number of credits she had stored in her online account would barely even buy a few groceries; although it was extra, the effort required to earn anything reasonable would require hours on end of tit flashing, pussy-poking, ass showing endurance which would end up in monetary value substantially less than the minimum wage. Closing the laptop lid due to lack of interest, Amercia turned to see the small pile of cash still placed neatly on the cabinet; my new start starts right now, she thought, I can do this. Get fucking assertive. She grabbed the cash and headed for the kitchenette cupboards, opening them to a bare space where food ought to be, and the biscuit tin was in sight. Placing the money into the tin and closing the cupboard door, out of sight, out of mind, she thought, my new savings tin starts from today for a deposit on a better place to live. I need to commit to this because I must find a way out of here.

  Even though Plymouth seemed over-run with student flats and acco
mmodation targeted towards the university age-range, she hated this bedsit, and the street burdened with uneducated, low mentality potential criminals in her opinion. Coming from a family of academically minded professionals, her stubbornness and independence stopped her from wanting to return home, and she was sure her mother wouldn’t want her back anyway. The shame of an underachiever in the family was not something her mother would want anyone to know in her social circles. Since Amercia had always thought that with hitting rock bottom, the only direction she could go from here was up, that five hundred pounds of cash might be only a small amount, but the kickstart she needed to save for somewhere better than her current shit-hole of accommodation.

  Amercia intended to call Tim Helman, although, in a way Mr X suited him as a title because it sounded less dull than Tim, she wanted to leave a good impression, have him latch on to her positive can-do attitude. If he had money to throw around, and his member's even more money to waste away on sex parties, then she deserved to lavish in their generosity and kindness. Phone in hand, she dialled his number.

  “Tim, it’s Amercia. I want to thank you for last night. I had a great time; it’s a brilliant club with a good atmosphere.”

  “Amercia, I can’t talk right now. I will message you later in the week, and I’m glad you enjoyed the evening's events. I am a man of my word as you are now aware. I need to head off because I’m swamped, Sorry, but I’ll make it up to you another time.”

  “That’s fine, Tim, I’ll look forward to it in the week then. Take care. Speak soon.”

  Short and sweet, but at least he knew she was serious about wanting to return. Amercia considered getting in contact was for the best. He sounded displeased, but most of her conversations with him had always been short and direct. He hadn’t revealed much about his personal life, other than discovering he was the founder of Sordida with a family share in the Helman House Hotel on the outskirts of the city. Amercia knew he was wealthy, most likely a millionaire regarding all his assets she was aware of, but she only wanted a regular stream of income to better her lifestyle, the odd five-hundred here and there wasn’t enough.

  The shoes Tim had gifted her, now really worn in from the evening were left on the floor as she whipped them off shortly before going to bed last night. While looking at the shoes, their value was at least a hundred pounds second-hand now, but the idea to sell them on might offend Tim Helman if he ever knew. If he never offers her a spotlight escorting role in his club, the shoes wouldn’t be worth keeping. Sordida was in many ways a welcoming opportunity; she was so close to getting in on the payroll, Amercia could sense the members enjoyed her company. She might have looked like she had the personality type of butter wouldn’t melt, due to initially coming from a privileged background, but underneath the hard-cautious exterior was a dirty bitch screaming to get out. Older men seem gullible to the powers of a woman who recognises how to flaunt her sexual charm.

  The fizz from the diet cola spilt over the glass as Amercia poured herself a drink, she couldn’t shift a pounding headache, but the dizziness from the hangover had now eased at least. Tim was on her mind again having now spent an hour reading random news sites; a usual Sunday tradition of hers to catch up with worldly events from the week. There was something peculiar about Tim that didn’t seem quite right, yet she couldn’t put her finger on it. A man with a wealthy family, successful hotel business, didn’t come across very sexual, didn’t get involved in any of the sexual activities from the club, but paraded his presence around commanding respect. Overconfident, slightly cocky, yet wealthy businessmen and women continued to pay him extortionate membership fees for the use of his club with escorts treated like human sexual aids for weird sexual fetishes.

  Why would he get involved in that, she wondered, if you’re wealthy, why the need for a business centred on sex games that seemed demoralising if it wasn’t for the escorts being paid fees for their time. Amercia wiped away the diet cola spillage, noticing she was down to her last bottle the thought of getting dressed and going to the local shop was too mentally exhausting to consider with a hangover, she wasn’t ready to see the outside world just yet. Thinking about her client Jake Parker, he had never mentioned meeting Tim, or the alternative name of Mr X which left her wondering if the husband he had previously spoken of, who had sniffed cocaine from the pussy of a woman he fucked called Kerry, was, in fact, the same guy. There was only one way to find out as she grabbed hold of her mobile phone; once again curiosity got the better of her.

  “Jake, sorry I mean, Mr Parker it’s Amercia – is it safe to talk? I need to ask you something about Sordida if you have time?”

  “Yeah should be alright; I haven’t got an appointment that I’ve missed, what’s up?”

  “I was thinking about what you told me when you fucked in the mirrored room at Sordida. Do you remember the husband who sniffed the coke from his wife’s pussy, what did he look like again?”

  “Um, was military looking, like he would be the kind of guy who did a lot of fitness at the gym, roughly about 6 feet tall – why? You haven’t forgotten about the stuff we discussed from our appointments already have you?”

  Amercia laughed.

  “No of course not, I was thinking about the whole incident where you had been hunted for the club to humiliate you in front of their members as part of their prize-winning sessions, just had me thinking that was all. Why would somebody’s husband allow their wife to go out and find random guys to fuck in front of a mirror? Honestly, I was just curious Jake.”

  “Nothing in Sordida is meant to make sense, that’s the point of it. They will use you for their entertainment and hide behind their wealth to justify that they are better than anyone else and can do what the fuck they want with people. It’s not just a swinger’s club; it’s for people who want to watch others suffer. Power trip moments, those freaks have demons. We went through all of this other day.”

  Amercia rolled her eyes.

  “My head is in a fucking mess Amercia. I need to see you again soon; I’m glad you called me. I was thinking of phoning you to arrange something for tomorrow. I enjoyed the boots and lack of knickers last time, but I should have restrained myself from wanking. I need to learn more self-control to improve the choices I make in life. I should stop rushing in with everything and every decision I make, sets me up for failure doesn’t it?”

  Fucking hell, Amercia thought to herself, he’s fucking droning on again about his miserable life just like he does at meets.

  “Let me look at my diary. I can fit you I think in on Wednesday about three in the afternoon if you want to meet again for an hour, any dress requests too?”

  “Yeah that works out well with me. I’ll draw out sixty-quid from the cash machine in the morning for you but think it’s too dangerous for the red boots again, that look made me fucking horny as hell. Let’s go back to the stylish secretary look and only this time can you be more forceful with me.”

  “Forceful?” Amercia asked, not sure what he meant, “In what way?”

  “You know, just be a bit more enforcing like I’ve been a bad boy.”

  Instantly the image in Amercia’s mind was the two older women whipping the young man and calling him a sissy.

  “You don’t want me to bring a whip, do you? Have you on your knees as I’m calling you fucking sissy?”

  “Fuck no, I meant tell me what I need to do to sort my mind out, be a little bossy is all I meant, not some fucking dominatrix bitch from hell. I want you to be more assertive.”

  “Have you ever considered talking to a real counsellor about your issues? I know you like the idea that you can fuck me if you want, but you don’t seem to want to. I’m an escort Jake, not just a pair of ears – do you want to fuck me or not?”

  “Of course, I want to fuck you. Nothing I want more than to spread those legs and fuck you, but I want to better myself. Resist the temptation; you’re helping me in more ways than you realise. I don’t want to be that guy tha
t goes out every weekend trying to fuck someone, loading up all the apps on my phone, swiping any old direction for a fucking blow job. I need to resist.”

  Amercia rolled her eyes, thinking he was mad as fuck, but he was paying for a service in the end that she provided.

  “I understand,” she responded to calm him down, “I know you’re paying me for my time and in that time so long as I’m there, you can do what you want. Fuck me or don’t fuck me, talk or don’t talk. You were one of my first clients, and I too am learning from you. I have learnt a lot over the past few days and realise now that people are into all sorts. Trust me; I’ve seen all kinds of weird shit.”

  “What exactly do you mean, what people and what weird shit. Amercia, please tell me you haven’t?”

  “Haven’t what?”

  “You’ve fucking been to the club, haven’t you?”

  “Jake, I can go where the fuck I want,” Amercia snapped back, “I told you I was going to try to find it. I told you I had a name to go on at least in one of our sessions, and I needed to see it for myself. You made me curious; you did that.”

  Jake hung up the phone on his end, and the line went dead. Amercia threw her mobile on the sofa. Fucking absolute prick, she thought, what a fucking twat. She picked up the phone to call him again. It went straight to voicemail.

  “Jake, it’s Amercia. Call or text me when you’ve calmed down. I’m not sure what your problem is, but I’m a grown woman. I needed to see for myself. Just let me know if we’re still on for Wednesday. I will not mention the club again, let’s focus on you this time. I’m sorry to have upset you.”

  Maybe I shouldn’t have been this stupid, she thought to herself, if nothing materialises from Sordida, his measly sixty-quid is all I will have. I need to keep him sweet.

  Her phone buzzed as the text message came through. Jake responded confirming the meet for Wednesday was still on. Only this time he requested to meet at Plymouth Barbican over a bite to eat. Seeking a specific time and place, Amercia confirmed she was still available. It was, after all, another sixty pounds for the biscuit tin to support the plans she had for a new life.