Brothel: The Magnolia Diaries

by Anthology

  “Let’s just fucking go, I don’t feel like dealing with her,” Brooke tells me after two seconds.

  “Chill,” I sigh, banging at the door again.

  “She can’t hear you over that shit-” Brooke begins, then the heavy door swings open. Trixie’s holding it open, a cigarette hanging from one side of her mouth. She’s dressed in a slutty nurse’s outfit, one hand covered up to the elbow with a yellow rubber glove, while the other hand is wielding a machete.

  “What?” Trixie asks over the music.

  “You ready? Tattoos, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she says, looking down.

  Tossing the machete into the room, it hits the floor with a clatter. Then the smack of the rubber glove as she pulls it from her hand, dropping that onto the floor also. She reaches over and grabs a vintage smoking jacket, before looking over her shoulder.

  “I’ll be back,” she says and I look into the room to see a man tied down in a chair.

  Then, she slams the door and looks between Brooke and I.

  “We’re gonna be gone for like hours,” I tell her.

  She looks at me like she doesn’t understand why I’m telling her this, before she shrugs, “He’ll be fine,” and brushes past us and up the steps.

  The tattoo parlor is in the city, and I’ve never been here before but Trixie suggested it. I’m just getting something small on my foot, but I’m trying to talk Brooke into something. When I called and made the appointment the guy just told us all to come and we’d figure it out. The bell over the door tings as we walk in, it looks like nothing more than an average studio. A front desk, then the stations set up beyond and open to everyone for see. The guy at the desk is cute, tattooed, his lip pierced in three different places, and his eyes widen when he sees us. There’s no other customers in the place, and it looks like the guys are just finishing lunch, seven guys in all.

  “You have an appointment?” desk guy asks.

  “Calico?” tattoo guy two says, standing from a seat at his station.

  “That’s me,” I reply and he waves us back.

  The men look at us, Brooke and I are both in short summer dresses. While Trixie’s put on the smoking jacket, it barely does anything to hide that she’s wearing a backless costume and nothing else. I sit on the leather seat and Brooke sits in a chair pulled up for her by another guy. Trixie meanwhile walks around the place, the girl’s got so much energy I can barely watch her without getting nervous. I tell him what I want and where I want it, and he draws something up, placing the stencil on my foot and getting down to it. He small talks with Brooke and I, while the other guys listen in and watch us with hungry eyes.

  “So what do you guys do?” my guy asks.

  “We’re whores,” Trixie answers from the front of the shop by the windows.

  There’s a silence, then they all look at each of us, waiting for us to laugh or call her bluff.

  “No way,” one says.

  “How much do you charge?” my guy asks.

  “Depends on what you want,” I tell him.

  “Blow job?” one asks.

  “Seven hundred,” Brooke answers.

  “No fuckin’ way,” one states.

  “Oh yes, these mouths aren’t cheap,” Brooke tells them.

  “These pussies and asses aren’t either,” I add.

  “How much is that, to fuck?”

  “Pussy, two g. Ass, four g,” Brooke says.

  “What about it all?”

  “You guys wanna fuck them, or what?” Trixie asks loudly, her arms open and looking at the guys. I love that she hates the bullshit small talk, these guys are obviously wanting to.

  Nods go around the room as the guys look at one another. There’s a feeling that begins inside me, that I shouldn’t do this. But I can’t resist the temptation.

  “Sure, why not.”

  “Ten thousand a person,” Trixie says.

  The guy working on my ink stops. It’s done and he wipes the excess ink off. I drop my foot and sit up on the table. More looks go around the room.

  “So we can do anything to them?” one asks.

  “No kissing or oral on them, but they will do anything you want,” Trixie states.

  Brooke and I share a look; she loves fucking just as much as I do.

  “Yeah, we’re down,” I say after a long minute.

  Trixie walks over to me and Brooke, and we stand up. She takes us by the hand, walking us over to the center of the room.

  “You, all of you, move your chairs in a line in front of them,” she orders. “And you,” she says, turning to the guy at the front desk, “lock the door.”

  We stand there as the guys do as directed, rolling their work stools into a line before us. The front door lock clicking.

  “I’m not getting in on this,” the front desk guy tells us, “I’m married.”

  The guys rib him and taunt him, but he comes over and sits on the tattoo bench I’d just been on.

  “Okay, you can watch,” Trixie says.

  Brooke and I size up the men, all tattooed and pierced, and all good looking. I only had one client yesterday, so the need is real.

  “Well, get to it girls,” Trixie tells us.

  Then she grabs the straps of my dress and pulls them, ripping the fabric and releasing my tits for all eyes. She does the same to Brooke, but hers falls completely to the ground, leaving her totally naked. Brooke’s body is amazing, her ass is fat and juicy, her tits too, high and perky but heavy below her nipples. Trixie gives Brooke’s ass a hard smack and I see her eyes spark with excitement. I wet my lips and lean down to lick one of her nipples, I luckily put in the barbell through my tongue today, and I run the metal ball over her. She moans and bites her lower lip, I sink to my knees and reach up to grasp her tits, my fingers digging in since she likes that shit.

  Trixie moves up behind Brooke, roughly hiking her leg up by the knee.

  “Get in there,” she tells me as she puts her other arm across Brooke’s waist.

  I pet her clit with my thumb, stroking the delicate pink skin, then take over with my lips. She leans back against Trixie, opening for me, groaning and pushing her pelvis into my mouth.

  “Spit on that shit,” Trixie tells me.

  So I pull back, collecting my saliva and spitting on her. My fingers rub it in and I can hear the seats to my right squeaking as the guys shift in their chairs. Some say things in response, but remain quiet for the most part.

  “You,” I glance up to see Trixie looking over at them, “come over here.”

  I continue to go down on Brooke, when I feel someone stand beside me.

  “Suck his dick.”

  I turn my head and there’s a condom covered cock right there. Pivoting my body, I use my hand on Brooke as I start sucking the dick. The guy moans and holds his shirt up against his abs. His balls are already shrunken up, and I take him deep, but mainly use my hand along with my mouth. The key to a good blow job is the hand, tight and fast, and you don’t have to take much into your mouth. I hear Trixie give out more orders, and Brooke’s body moves away from my fingers. I focus on the one cock, when another comes up next to it. Immediately my hand covers that one, and I take turns putting them in my mouth while jerking them off.

  Trixie says something else, and the first cock leaves me, only to be replaced by a new one. This has a piercing at the head and the base and I moan as he slides in. I can hear other sounds of sucking dick not coming from me, so I assume it’s Brooke. The room fills with wet smacks, groans and grunts. Hands are on my hips, and I slide my knees further apart, I can’t be sure, but I think it’s the first guy’s cock I sucked. He slides inside my pussy, gripping my hips hard as he starts fucking me. My tits begin to sway, and one of the guys who has his cock in my mouth, grasps one, pulling at my nipple barbell.

  The guy who has his cock pierced is loud, mumbling and fucking my throat. It dawns on me that I’m not looking at any of them, and I try to ignore why. Trixie gives another order, and then
I’m pulled to my feet, my dress falling off my body and to the floor. She brings me towards a tattoo bench, and I take in the debauchery surrounding me. The guy who’s married is sitting there jerking off, and all I see is naked men with hard dicks. Brooke’s already on a bench, riding one while another stands behind her and is fucking her ass, another is standing on the bench and has his dick in her mouth.

  Trixie tells one guy to lie on the bed, which he does. Then she turns me around and I get up on the table, my ass sliding down his dick. It stings since I have no lubrication there, but the condom helps. Then she orders the one to start fucking my pussy, he steps forward and pushes my ankles high in the air, before he pushes in. I lean back and place my hands on the bench beside the guy below me for leverage. Then the last guy, takes the back of my head and pulls my upper body down so he can fuck my mouth. I go through the motions, it feels good, but I can’t get out of my head. Trixie walks back and forth between Brooke and is ordering the guys to fuck us harder, choke us, slap us. I hear accelerated breathing as one by one they start to come.

  “Not you!” I hear Trixie order, and pulls the guy away from my pussy.

  She says this again over by Brooke, and as soon as the guy in my mouth and ass both come, Trixie has me by the arm. She brings me to my knees and then guides the guy who was in my pussy to my face, no condom, and forces my jaw open with her fingers. I take him in, the taste of latex nasty on my tongue and I really fucking hate her right now for making him take the condom off. Moments later, Brooke is beside me, doing the same. She also doesn’t jive with no condoms, and I’m surprised she didn’t get into it with Trixie about it. But like me, she knows we’re getting paid and we can make them come fast. Trixie urges them to fuck our mouths, “Faster, harder, hold her there.”

  My guy pushes my head down, shoving his cock down my throat. He’s not huge but I still gag, my hair gets yanked and he’s manipulating my movements. Then I realize it’s not him, it’s Trixie. She’s standing behind us, forcing our heads up and down, holding us there as they fuck us. My guy’s balls tighten and I use my hand to pump him hard and fast, but my hands replaced by my mouth as Trixie forces him in deeper, and I feel his cock jerk as he fills my mouth with cum. I hold it there, on my tongue, until he’s done. He steps back and falls from my lips, and I stand, Brooke’s guy also just finishing.

  “Good job ladies, nice work,” Trixie says with a huge grin.

  I gather all the cum in my mouth, and spit it at her face. Her head flinches back in the unexpected movement, looking at me wide eyed, before she starts cracking up. Lifting the side of her jacket to wipe it off her cheek, she then widens her eyes and holds up the cash Brooke and I just earned.

  Chapter Five

  Calico

  A few days after the tattoo parlor gang bang, I was back to work. There was a guilt after that experience that I’d never known before. I felt dirty and just about as ashamed as you can be. Stone and I messaged through that night, and I could barely reply with more than one word answers. He had a random day off the day following, and wanted to hang out. I’d planned to tell Marcus I had a volunteer day so Stone and I could hang out, but after what I did, I didn’t think I could look Stone in the face. I told him that maybe I could see him later, and left it at that.

  I've put in my resignation with Marcus. Due to our previous talk, and my obvious disinterest with the business as of late, he wasn’t surprised. He told me I was welcome back anytime and there was always a job for me. I wanted to move in with Stone so badly, I just felt like I had to leave this life as soon as possible in order to salvage some of myself from the wreckage.

  I wanted to surprise Stone, not telling him I was coming, and show up at his door with my bags. I spent the day packing up my shit, and I’m in my closet folding laundry late that evening, when there’s a knock at my bedroom door. I figure it’s one of the girls since I told them to come down and see if they wanted any of my clothes. I can’t exactly show up to Stone’s with more lingerie than actual clothes. Besides, I plan on getting all new shit like that, just for him.

  Exiting my closet, I head for the door, just as another, harder knock comes. I swing it open, the smile dying on my lips. It’s Stone. Blood drains from my face, my feet falling back a step as I brace the door to keep me from dropping. His eyes widen when he sees me, but I know he’s not here as a client though. Like he had to see this was me, and now that he does, he can’t believe it. Walking past me and into the room, he looks around. I can’t explain this, shock and terrible pain of all my lies coming to a head.

  “So, this, this is what you’ve been keeping from me?”

  I close the door and turn to face him. I notice then he’s holding onto some papers.

  “I knew you were guarded, that there was something going on…but I never thought this.”

  I hear his words, see him, but this isn’t real. My brain is telling me it’s not, while my heart on the other hand is lifting its shield and preparing for battle.

  “I went to visit my buddy at the tattoo parlor he works at, never guess what I heard went on there the other day.”

  A wave of embarrassment crashes over me, and I keep telling myself I shouldn’t have let him get so close to me, that I shouldn’t have let us go this far. But it’s all bullshit. I’m pissed because for the first time in my career, he’s making me know that what I’m doing is hurtful. I think that if I own my shit, that it somehow is a metal armor to protect me from what I’m really feeling. That’s why my parents’ don’t know, he didn’t know. It’s not because it’s not their business, it’s because I’m scared of what they’ll think of me.

  “I saw a video,” he tells me, “saw your face, your tattoos, your tits, your mouth on another guy’s dick…but, I still didn’t believe it was you.”

  He turns the print outs, still shots from a video probably taken from one of the guy’s phones. I look down and he throws the papers towards me, sending them fluttering through the air.

  “He told me what you said you did, so I looked online. It wasn’t hard to find you, you living in the country and all. Even when I got to the website, saw your fucking name,” he stops with a growl and looks up at the ceiling, reeling in his anger.

  I absolutely deserve this, so, I’ll stand here and take it. He’s pissed rightfully so, but I don’t feel like it’s an argument he wants.

  “So, the whole time we’ve been together, you’ve been seeing guys on the side? Here?” he asks pointing back at my bed. “Fucking guys in this bed?”

  I want to correct him, not guys, clients, and for money.

  “I don’t know if that thought pisses me off, or disgusts me…” he stops and I meet his eyes. “Actually, I think I feel sad for you, that you do this, did your dad treat you bad or something?”

  I sniffle and look away, the urge to reply, to defend myself is right there. But maybe if I don’t reply, he’ll just leave, and I go back to living in my bubble of denial. Pretend I didn’t ruin the only good thing I’ve ever had.

  “Are you going to answer me, or just stand there?” he asks with raised brows.

  I clear my throat, crossing my arms under my breasts. “Will it make a difference if I say anything?”

  “I bought you for the whole fuckin’ night, so if you don’t, then this will be one long night.”

  He bought me. Bought me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he growls, stepping closer.

  “What was I supposed to say, oh by the way I’m a whore? What conversation does that fit into? When?”

  “Anytime!” he yells.

  I look down, inhaling deeply. “I know I should’ve told you, but I thought all you wanted was sex in the beginning, I didn’t know anything more was going to happen between us.”

  “Nothing more would’ve,” he comments.

  I inhale sharply, feeling my inside crack and ash to dust.

  “I’m sorry okay, if you go downstairs they’ll give you your money back,” I offer.

  “I don�
��t give a fuck about the money.” He steps right in front of me, his heavy breaths lashing across my face. “I want to know how the woman that I thought I loved a few hours ago, could be someone totally different than who I knew.”

  Resolve and the need to not remain quiet, has me speaking stronger than I feel.

  “I never lied to you. The stories about my childhood, how great my family is, everything’s true. But I kept things from you, yes that’s also true. I have an apartment in the city, I’m a certified vet technician…but everything I felt with you was real…that wasn’t a lie, when we were together, I was there with you.”

  “And having different cock’s numerous times a day, in between fucking me,” he states blatantly.

  Oh, but what we did was so much more than fucking.

  “What difference does it make if I fuck a hundred guys for money before I met you, and a hundred guys for money while I’m with you?”

  “Because you’re with me!”

  “I am with you!” I stop, because I was with him.

  “Why did you lie?!” he yells with a growl. “That’s all I want to know!”

  The center of his brows are pulled down, his nostrils flaring as he breathes deep, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

  “Because I just wanted to be a girl that a great guy liked, and that's it!” I yell back, pushing at his chest. “Not a whore, not a fuck toy for a night, not a cum dumpster! You made me feel like I was a person, whole, complete in all aspects...not just one part of me. The sex between us was something I never thought I could have, to really feel like I was sharing an experience with someone else. Not a body used for pleasure-” my words cut off with a sob, and when I speak again, my tone is low as my eyes brim with tears. “But I guess I don’t deserve that, being a whore means I can’t have that…to be happy, to be loved.”

  “You do, just not with me,” he says softly.

  My chin warbles as I turn away from him, I don’t want him to see he’s broken my shell. He thinks I lied about everything, and that that’s the biggest part of this. But the biggest part is that he got something from me that I thought I was incapable of giving.