Monday, September 26, 2011

Just a Dollar, Part One

I came home at around eight at night from the late afternoon and early dinner rush at the restaurant, exhausted from being on my feet all day and smiling, which are two of the most exhausting things you’ll ever do.  While my job is fun most times, my boss isn’t too horrible and I get along with the other girls, I’m always thankful when I can get home and finally kick off my shoes.

As I slipped off my white sneakers, I saw that Alyssa was at the kitchen table, as usual, with the computer open and typing away.  Also, as usual, she was naked except for a pair of white cotton panties.  I was thankful she had at least had the decency, this time, to close the windows of our first floor apartment.  Of course, she had nothing to be ashamed about, but as her girlfriend, I liked asserting my right of being the only one allowed to see her naked.

“Hey, Meredith, how was work?” she said, eyes glued to the screen.  She worked as a librarian a the university law library and so she had been home for hours, and probably had slinked off her work clothes as soon as possible.  I leaned over her shoulder and gave her a kiss, squeezing her breast.  I then left to go to the kitchen to make my usual dinner sandwich.  Being around the kitchen and restaurant food all day made cooking for me impossible, and Alyssa had given up trying to break me of my routine long ago.

She followed me into the kitchen and gave me a hug from behind as I was preparing my sandwich, which made me swoon.  Her hands then reached down, into my pockets and she retrieved the wad of cash that made up my tips for the day.  We were saving for a Hawaii trip and while she could automatically partition a portion of her salary, since it was consistent, I had to donate half my tips to the jar.  She counted it out, stuffed half in the jar, around thirty-two dollars, and presented me with the other half.

“So, how far are we to Hawaii?” I asked.

“We have enough for a trip to Cleveland, so we’re pretty much there,” she laughed.  “A dollar for a kiss?” she offered.

“C’mon, let’s not do that,” I said.  “I want to get to Hawaii just as much as you do.”  I was very pragmatic when it came to money, since I had grown up with so little of it around.

“Well,” she said, pulling out her purse.  “How about a kiss for this dollar?”  She stuffed a dollar bill of her own into the jar and held me close.  We kissed deeply, and very long.  My hands found their way to her ass, and hers found their way to mine.

“Wow,” Alyssa said when we finally broke.  “I should pay you for more things.”

“Well, for you,” I offered, “a dollar goes a long way.”

I lead her to the living room and she laid on the couch, I quickly removed her panties and started stripping myself, and soon we were hugging and kissing on the couch.  Our bodies fit together so nicely, as they always do, and we were soon squirming and moaning in our own orgasms.  Both exhausted we cuddled, basking in the afterglow.

“Wow,” she said, “all that for a dollar?”

I giggled, “I guess I’m your whore now?”

Her eyes lit up a bit when she heard that.  “Hm, I’m thinking about a little tip jar next to the bed is in order?”

Over the next few days, we did just that.  A second jar was placed next to the bed, that wouldn’t be Hawaii money, but just for “special tips” as Alyssa liked to call them.  Only a few dollars at a time, but the tip time grew to be my favorite thing to watch.  Alyssa always made a spectacle of the event, putting in dollars here and there, and then cuddling with me.  

One night, as we cuddled, she spoke with me about how much she put in.  “Tonight, you were good, I put in a two dollar bill.”

“I didn’t realize my pay was based on performance,” I teased.

“Of course,” she said, “I can’t let my little bitch get lazy.”  Reaching down she smacked my butt and I squirmed with delight.

“I love it when you get possessive like that,” I said.  “And, I really do love being your little whore, just don’t say it in public, ok?”

“Well, you better just do everything I tell you then, right bitch?” Alyssa whispered in my ear.  She definitely was dominant in most aspects of her life, and I usually did take the submissive role.  She loved hearing me submit to her completely defeated, and I knew this game very well.

“Yes, Alyssa,” I said.  “I’m your little bitch, your whore, and you can just tell me to do whatever you want.”

“As long as I pay you, right?”

“You don’t really have to pay me,” I said, “it’s just I feel, I don’t know, different when you do.”

“There is quite a bit of money in that jar now,” Alyssa said.  “What are you going to do with it?”

“I think lunch tomorrow, I’ll go out to some place nice.”  I giggled.  “And pay with my sex money.”  I squirmed again as I thought of using the money that I had gotten for my performance.  

“How about instead, getting yourself a good uniform for a whore?” Alyssa suggested.

“What are you thinking?” I asked, and Alyssa bounded from the bed, fully nude.  I loved seeing her ass wiggle as she ran into the next room and returned with her laptop.  She showed me on the screen a woman wearing a collar with the inscription of WHORE on it. For the entire time, the pet name had just been a verbal agreement between Alyssa and I, but this would certainly make it more real.

“Alyssa, do you want me to get this really?” I asked, and she nodded with an excruciatingly cute smile that she knew I couldn't resist.

The collar came a few days later, and I slipped  it on for bed.  I dropped my robe as I entered the room, and Alyssa looked me up and down, pleased very much that the collar was the only thing I was wearing.

“You look so nice in that, whore,” she said.  She had given up using my name for the most part whenever we were in bed, and it made me swoon.  Her dominance over me was becoming more and more complete, and my submission was continually matching it.  I was quite literally her bitch, her whore, her property, and I wore her collar proudly.  “How much?” she asked with another big smile.

I grabbed the now almost empty jar, and held it out.  “For you, just a dollar.”

She popped a dollar in and we made love, orgasms quickly washing over us.  The payment routine was our own special foreplay in and of itself, and by the time it was done, we were soaking wet, and talking about how we could push the envelope again for next time.

We started talking about how I would be turned out, to other clients of Alyssa’s choosing, and started discussing pricing structures.  I actually got wet, as she described that women would get their pussy eaten by me for five dollars, but just pay fifty cents if they wanted to eat mine.  We decided on everything from vaginal strap on intercourse to anal, and other humiliations I would be subjected to.  Of course, the dollar amounts we discussed were nowhere near the amounts that real working girls would get, nothing ever went above five dollars, and at that point it was all just hypothetical.

However, Alyssa then suggested, “What about men?”

I had messed around with a few men before Alyssa, however, those days seemed like a lifetime ago for me now.  “What about men?” I asked.

“How much if I want to have you fuck one,” she said matter-of-factly.

I thought about it for a moment.  I decided to play along and said, “Just a dollar.”  I certainly wasn’t repulsed by men, and I was getting a bit wet at the idea of having another one.  The idea that he would just have to pay one dollar to Alyssa for the chance was almost enough to send me to another orgasm right there.

“Are you serious, Meredith?” Alyssa asked stroking my increasingly wet pussy.  “You’re going to have a guy fuck you right here, for a measly little dollar?  Is that how much of a desperate whore you are?”  She flicked my clit, and I pulled her close to me, on the verge of another orgasm.

“Yes!” I seethed.  Alyssa’s hand savaged my pussy, and I shuddered as I came again, surrendering my entire body to her.  She now owned my pussy completely, and I reveled in the fact that she could loan it out to whoever she wanted, man or woman.  I confided all of this to her, as she was now my manager, my pimp, my mistress, whatever label she wanted.

“I may just have to set that up then!” Alyssa teased.  She then kissed me long and hard, “Night whore,” she said, and we fell asleep.

The next afternoon at work, my phone vibrated with a text message and I read it while waiting for some dinner plates in the restaurant’s kitchen.

“Have client for u.  He will pay top dollar tonight, whore.”

I couldn’t wait to get home.

Read Part Two of "Just a Dollar" here.

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