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My confidence is sky high after Mr Gregory rated me five stars last night, with another amazing review for my resume. He may have a drawer rammed full of panties, but mine are a memento he’ll be holding dear.
I search through my clothes for an outfit that fits the bill for this evening – quite the opposite of the one I was wearing yesterday. I pick one of my oldest black bodices from the back of my wardrobe. A good choice, I think. I used to wear it nearly every weekend at our local rock bar, and it shows. It’s been worn so many times the boning is warped, and the top barely holds my tits in. Perfect.
I pick out one of my favourite little skirts, but it’s hardly a stunner anymore. I keep it mainly for sentimental value now as the lace around the bottom is frayed to shit. I pair it up with thin holdup stockings, laddered on purpose with a nail file.
I’m less careful with my makeup tonight. No flash contouring, just a thick layer of pale foundation, and catflicks done with a pencil, no brush. I don’t use lip liner, just a heavy coat of budget red gloss, destined to get smeared.
I do a twirl in the mirror, and grin, because I’ve chosen well. I look like a cheap goth hooker, just like User 1496 wants me to.
The address is a place called George Grove, and I know it pretty well since it’s only two streets over from mine. I know the path User 1496 is talking about – a lane that runs alongside a poor excuse of a local park, normally filled with crack heads. It makes me wonder how the hell a client around here can afford over a grand an hour for some playtime, but that isn’t my question to answer. The Agency will have run their checks on him.
It’s a good job I’m close to moving out, since some of my own neighbours might well get to see me in full slutty action tonight. What a farewell fuck you that would be…
I walk quickly, with my head down and my leather coat wrapped up tight. I click arrived on the app as soon as I reach the faded George Grove sign, and the instructions come straight through.
Number 37. Room 2. Front door is open.
Room 2 of number 37. Ok, right. So, this place must be a house share, like mine.
I’m careful on the cracked paving slabs as I step up to the house once I find it. The lights are on in the front windows, both upstairs and downstairs, but the curtains are all drawn shut. Sure enough, the front door is open. Room 2 is straight down the hallway in front of me, most likely where a dining room used to be. I catch sight of the kitchen off to the side, and it’s almost as grotty as the one at my place, which is saying something. I won’t be accepting a coffee if I get offered one.
I knock on the door of Room 2, but User 1496 doesn’t answer. I knock again, and wait, but still nothing.
“Hello,” I say, with my face up close to the door. “It’s Holly, I’m here.” But there’s no response. No sign of life until I get another buzz from the app on my phone.
LOUDER. Knock on the door like you mean it. Call me Steve. Shout that you need to see me, that you’re desperate for my dick.
Ah, yeah, of course. He wants me to make a spectacle of myself, just like the proposal stated.
It feels weird out here, in the hallway, knowing the house is probably full of other residents, minding their own business… at least for now, but that doesn’t matter. There’s only one reason I’m here, and it’s time to get in character.
I knock harder this time, knuckles rapping hard against the wood.
“Steve! Are you in there?! It’s me. Holly!”
Nothing.
“STEVE! Let me in! You know what I’m here for!”
Silence.
I take a breath and hammer my fist against the door so hard it rattles.
“STEVE, FOR FUCK SAKE, JUST LET ME IN, WILL YOU?!”
I hear a door open behind me, and spin around as two people step out into the hall. A guy in a baggy sweater and loose denim shorts, and a girl in a fluffy pink dressing gown, folding her arms as she stares at me.
“You here for Steve?” the girl asks, like it’s not obvious.
Time for the roleplay. I let my coat fall open, so they can see my cheap slutty outfit.
“Yeah, I’m here for Steve,” I say. “Is he in? I need to see him.”
“Think so,” the guy says, his eyes straight to my tits, that I know are spilling right out of my bodice. “What you after? Weed or something?”
“No,” I say. “He promised he’d fuck me tonight. I just hope he follows through with it.”
I expect their eyes to widen in shock, but they don’t. The girl sneers at me like I’m a crazy bitch, and as for the guy, he laughs. Yeah, cheeky bastard. He fucking laughs at me.
