I reached the corner. The sick yellow light buzzed and cast a falsely angelic glow on my body. The stretch of my skirt was tempting and they were still looking, but no one would come. I could tell tonight would be slow. The only ones on the street were the pathetic losers. They were always intimidated by me, thought even I would turn them down... No, I got my work from the heartbroken, the ones who used to be strong. Those who were sick of feeling fucked around with. For a night I was just their plaything, they could be in charge.
Finally. A man walked towards me, a customer. He was dressed in a black suit with white stripes dripping down it. His stride was proud... Too proud. Wait, what was he doing on my street? Cautiously, I reached my hand into my bag trying to grope for my gun. Something was wrong, he didn't belong on a street like this. He could have any woman he wanted. 20 feet away. 10 feet. 5.
"Hello darling," I dared. He arched an eyebrow seductively and walked around me in a circle.
He spoke. "I have a proposition for you."
"Sorry, sweetie, I don't make deals," I replied. I followed him with my eyes, entirely unsure of his next move.
He let out an arrogant laugh. "This time, you don't have a choice." Then he came at me. I knew it. I pulled out my gun but he grabbed my wrist and twisted it sharply away from me. I was pinned against the wall quicker than I could even believe. "If you can tell me something beautiful about yourself, I'll let you go..." he hissed into my ear. "But all I can see is a sad, ugly whore."
He was right.
Heartbroken Harlot by laubauzz is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
