Darke [Part 1]

by Saber Vale

  If I had a baby for them, I would be paid a million dollars.

  It was more money than I could ever have imagined growing up in rural Alabama.

  I could have done a lot worse than Sandra and Roman Carville. They were in their forties, attractive, and worked a lot, so I was promised I wouldn’t really have to work very hard. Roman had hired me, meeting me in a Four Seasons hotel in San Francisco with my agent Deandra, a retired escort who coordinated these types of arrangements. He undressed me in front of Deandra, squeezing my ample tits, running his fingers along my slit, turning me over on my hands and knees to examine every inch of my round ass. I felt like an animal for sale as he examined me, but I was also, in spite of my humiliation, turned on. What was it about the thought of being used and completely available that had drawn me to this job? I breathed heavily as he slid two fingers inside of me, and Deanna stopped him.

  “Only after you’ve paid,” she said slyly.

  I had always known I was pretty, I’d been the prettiest girl in the little town was from. I moved to San Francisco to be a model and found out that there were actually a lot of pretty girls, and most of them were taller and thinner than me. I was told over and over that I was too curvy, too short, cute, but not stunning. I waited tables at a high-end restaurant near the Castro, riding the train in from Oakland every day, until Deanna found me and handed me her mysterious card.

  “I don’t think I could be a prostitute,” I’d said to her, sitting at the quiet bar where we’d met.

  “You’d be amazed at what you could really do,” she’d whispered, “if the price is right.”

  Roman didn’t seem to think I was too curvy. He squeezed my tits like they were ripe fruit he couldn’t wait to eat.

  “God, I want to fuck her right now,” he said to Deanna, “I love her curly blonde hair, she’s like a doll.”

  “Sign the contract and she’s all yours,” she purred, reaching over to open the lips of my pussy so that he could see. I leaned back and felt my eyelids flutter, but I’d tried to keep his gaze. I wanted him to want me. I’d wanted him since he’d walked in, and even Deanna glanced at me as if to say ‘woah, a hot one.’

  “She looks nice and tight,” he said, kneeling in front of me like he wanted to eat me out. Deanna stroked me, I bit my lip, getting turned on. She was teasing him, sliding a finger in and out of me, knowing the he wouldn’t be able to say no.

  “Ok, I’ll sign,” he said, pulling a pen out of his jacket.

  “She has to sign too,” Deanna said, leaning in so that she could kiss me, play with my nipple with her manicured fingers. She was driving Roman crazy and making me hot, too. She knew exactly what she was doing.

  “Once you sign, you’re agreeing to say yes, every time,” she said in her breathy voice.

  “Ok,” I said, nodding. I wanted to get on with it. Roman read the agreement.

  “Everything looks good,” he said, “are you sure you’re ok with all of it?”

  He handed me the contract. Deanna slipped a book onto my lap so that I had a hard surface to sign on.

  “I really am,” I said.

  I was. Maybe I was jaded and emotionally disconnected, but I didn’t care. Roman could use me any way he wanted, sex doll, surrogate, I didn’t care.

  I scribbled my name on the line and dated.

  “Ok, contract begins now, do you want me to leave?”

  “No, I want you to watch,” Roman answered, his voice a growl.

  Read more here.