Penny's Worth Ch. 08

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Penny becomes a courtesan to Suárez but sees price to pay.
1.9k words
4.35
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Part 8 of the 12 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 03/31/2015
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Rearrangements

They say that when one door closes, another opens and then something about not staring longingly at the closed door. My open door came the very next day, but I was almost too hung over to be able to tell.

As I walked through the lobby, the desk clerk signaled me. "Excuse me, Ms. Vivian, James Roberts has asked to see you as soon as you arrived."

I wore a pair of dark shades to protect my eyes from the searing dim light of the lobby, and my head was still throbbing. "The party shouldn't have disturbed anyone. That's why the penthouse is sound proofed."

"It has nothing to do with a party, but there will be additional clean up fees."

"Fine, add it to my bill." I started to walk off.

"No, Mr. Roberts needs to speak with you now. He said before you, ah mmm, start your work." James Roberts was the owner and manager of the Aventeen. I'd never met him in person.

"OK. I'll go to his office. Bring me coffee. Lots of coffee."

I never realized the elevator was so loud until I rode it to the second floor. Roberts' office was down a long corridor. I expected he had some complaint I wasn't in the mood to deal with.

"Good morning, Ms. Vivian. It is so good of you to see me so quickly." He shook my unsteady hand. Roberts looked like someone who'd played a hotel manager in a movie from the fifties. He had a narrow mustache, with short brushed back hair held in place with tonic, and a grey suit with outdated lapels. He seemed as dated, style-wise, as the hotel he ran. At least, his tone was warm and friendly.

Perhaps it was a coincidence, but a large cup of coffee in fine bone china awaited me as I sat down. I sipped and still retained my sunglasses.

"This is a matter concerning, General Emile Suárez. I believe the two of you are well acquainted."

I was surprised to hear Suárez brought up by the hotel manager. "Yeah. I've entertained Suárez a couple of times." I put it as delicately as possible. Roberts supposedly only reluctantly accepted his hotel's place as an entertainment venue for horny men.

"Well, it seems General Suárez wishes to make a farther..." he cleared his throat, "ah, business agreement with you."

"And you're setting this up?" I didn't understand why Roberts would know or be involved in any dealings I'd have with Suárez.

"No. I'm simply here to offer you complete and exclusive access to the Presidential suite for your liaisons with the Defense Minister and..." again, he cleared his throat, "any other business dealings you may have."

There was a knock at his office door, and another man entered. A black-haired man entered and sat in a chair next to me. I'd recognized him from the Suárez entourage. I never got his name.

"Good morning Ms. Vivian, I am General Suárez's chief secretary, Colonel Alberto Díaz." His accent was thicker than that Suárez. "When I first met you, I believe you went by the name of Penny."

The man stood out to me. I knew I'd seen him before in the Presidential suite. Then it hit me, Díaz was the one that seemed to be looking at me with dissatisfaction. Even now, as pleasantly as he spoke, his look seemed to be one of disapproval.

"Yes. Suárez liked the name Vivian better. I go by that now."

"Well, the General would like to offer you a more formal arrangement."

The arrangement, as things unfolded, was that I would be on exclusive retainer for Suárez's visits, which were typically three or four days a month. I'd stay with him overnight during that time. When he wasn't here, my retainer fee would be $1,000 a day and for days he resided at the Aventeen, I'd be compensated $5,000.

Even though my brain was still limping along from the after effects of copious amounts of alcohol, I did a rough calculation that my pay would be in excess of $40,000 a month.

My brain, apparently still not thoroughly engaged, had me ask, "On the days he's not here, I'd still be entertaining other clients? You know the ones."

Díaz gave me an odd critical look. "I believe he would insist upon it. He said he wishes you to continue your work."

"So, what's the 'and' here? What else do I need to do for this arrangement?"

Díaz laughed. "I'm sure you are aware of the General's unique sexual preferences. You would continue to cater to them all."

I knew he liked a certain amount of unique kink. So far, it wasn't anything extraordinary. He wasn't into S&M, blood or scat; I drew the line on that stuff. His groove was psychological in nature.

I agreed and signed a nondisclosure agreement. I'd risen to the rank of courtesan. Less than six months before, I was role playing as a $200 a pop motel call-girl solely for my husband.

Oh, fuck, I had a husband. Fucking near dead brain; why didn't you tell me that? How do I explain away four nights a month out of the house to Dave? I'd have to deal with that issue later, when my brain wasn't still writhing in hung-over pain.

Díaz left to tell Suárez the good news. Roberts explained something about how much money the hotel would have coming in from the Defense Minister's staff taking up the entire fifth floor, while I looked for something I could throw up in, if needed.

~ ~ ~

Most the rest of the ladies from the Aventeen were in the same condition as me. A lot of scheduled customers would be disappointed for the day, but Darleen, the lump, who wasn't invited to our sendoff party, apparently did landmark business from our cancellations.

I'd become very popular with the other sex workers. As I'd moved up and been pursued by the higher-end clientele, they'd received the benefit of my overflow. My work had become enough of a draw that nearly everyone found a nice bump in their own earnings. Since, I'd be upping my rates again, there'd be even more of the well-paying Johns to go around. I'd only be keeping the elite customers. Quality over quantity, the rule of being in the penthouse.

I drove home and waited for Dave to return from his business trip. I put on a garter belt, with black patterned stockings and bright-red sheer panties. My skirt and top barely covered my lingerie. I wanted to make my new arrangements as well packaged as possible.

I waited by the door when I heard his car pull into the garage. No sooner had he entered the room, than I presented his welcome home package. I kissed him and playfully rubbed his crotch. It was exciting to feel his hand go underneath my short skirt and handle my butt through the gossamer material of my undies.

"How I've missed you, Baby."

He pushed me back and had a long look. I could see he was aroused. I hoped he'd scoop me into his arms, carry me to the bedroom and have his way with me for hours.

"How are you doing, Penny?"

That wasn't the response I was expecting. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. It was a long day. Sorry. I was just hoping for a night with Stella. I wanted to relax and snuggle."

What does Stella have that I don't? That was my first reaction. I was, for want of a better term - jealous. I was resentful of myself. That was a new one. I composed my thoughts. I needed Dave in a good mood.

"I can change my clothing. We can just have a relaxing evening. I just wanted to make you know how much I missed you."

I cleaned off the makeup and put on a nightgown. The more I thought about it, the more I realized; I was spending more time with my husband in Penny mode that as Stella. Penny needed lots of sexual release and attention. Stella was content with him initiating intimacy. Lately, we'd had tons of sex, but intimacy as a thing apart, not as much.

He sat on the sofa and popped on the TV. I curled up next to him with my legs on the cushions. Dave half way drifted off, and I noticed the erection in his pants. I unzipped his cock and gave him a blowjob. He barely moved, but I could tell he was enjoying my services. It wasn't long before his load was released into my mouth. I swallowed it all and kissed him on the cheek. There were no words between us. There didn't need to be. This was intimacy.

Dave slept in until late in the morning. I woke him up with another BJ.

After lunch, I explained I'd be home more often. Work didn't require the longer hours of the last six months. Then came the other news. "I'll need to stay overnight a few times a month."

His reaction surprised me. "Is that what you want?"

"I made an agreement."

"Is that what you want or what Penny wants?"

"It's what Penny wants. Yes." I never told him that Penny wasn't in the picture anymore. Vivian was the main player now. It would complicate things too much to explain who she was.

"Do you want me to stop?" I had to make the offer. I hoped he'd allow me to continue. I, for one, wasn't ready for retirement just yet.

"No. Not, if you don't want that."

There was a qualifier in that statement. I should have gotten clarification, but the "No" was the only thing I cared about at that moment.

I rubbed his crotch and felt his cock beginning to get hard. Men are so easily distracted.

"When can I see Penny again?"

~ ~ ~

I arrived at the Presidential suite in the afternoon. The debauchery of two nights before had been thoroughly scrubbed away. On the coffee table that had once been littered with crinkled money and human body fluids, sat a variety of large wrapped boxes with colorful ribbons tied around them. Each package had a label that said, 'For Ms. Vivian'.

I assumed they must be a gifts of gratitude from Suárez. I pulled one open and discovered a dress with the designer label for Givenchy. Another contained Oscar de la Renta. There were originals from Saint Laurent. All were stylish, sexy and highly expensive. I never would have guessed Suárez had such taste.

As I held one up wondering how he knew my size so precisely, I noticed the cards in each box. They weren't from my patron. Most said something along the lines of "From your friends at..." and then the name of a local financial intuition or defense company. They expressed their appreciation for helping to assure that Suárez kept his interests in town. The Saint Laurent had a card that read, "To show our appreciation for your kind support. The people of Balance Avionics."

I was the bait to help haul in the big fish. I was now whoring myself out for corporate interests. The penthouse, the clothing and who knew what else was about to come my way; all for the procurement of business deals. I remembered Quinn once saying, "Everyone whores in this world to get by. We just have sex for our money. We're the most honest of any of them." Now I knew what she meant.

~ ~ ~ End of Chapter 8 of 12 ~ ~ ~

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26thNC26thNCabout 5 years ago
Worth

This was worth nowhere near a penny..

AnonymousAnonymousabout 9 years ago
Accepting that she's now a professional.......

.....there's some hot moments, but it's all getting a little routine.

I confess, I liked it better when she was angry at bitter-tits and fucking everything in sight, getting off 30 times a day....

I can't see her marriage lasting. They've already traded love and intimacy for raucous sex. But humans need both. Hubby is back and forth, indicating he's approaching a tipping point. She's headed for uber-sophistication and will likely soon tire of their little middle class home and life.....until much later,when she wakes up one day and realizes....it's too late.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 9 years ago
Wrapping up Anon

All the sex and prostituting was boring.

Boring? Really? Guess this is coming from a fat, barcode hairstyle sporting, lives in Buttfucksville America, middle manager for WalMart, who does it once a year with his wife-lights off and only missionary style type of guy.

Glad I'm not you! But hey, you ever get into Phnom Penh we can meet up, have a beer, introduce you to some of the local girls, stiff you for the bill and then let you meet some of the local toughs.

Thanks for adding an element of international intrigue

Spy vs Spy? http://th04.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2013/212/c/e/spy_girl_crazy_by_rosnyspy-d6fzhby.png

or kidnapping to South America, which is what PVS deserves.

Why would anyone one want to kidnap Penny and ship her off to South America? In South and Central America prostitutes are a dime a dozen. All those uneducated, koolaid drinking Catholic women are popping out babies by the thousands. The ghettos are filled with children just waiting to be picked up and turned into cannon fodder or sex toys for rich barangs.

Well, Dave too.

Whatever happened to Dave? Did he find a new love interest?

Maybe he's gay now? That's it! He's gotta be gay! Letting his wife go off and become a cheap whore...

Funny that... But, she's going to be making US$40 large a month just from one client and is possibly pulling down another $100 grand a month from her other clients. http://www.quora.com/What-are-the-average-prostitution-prices-worldwide

He's the one that started this fiasco.

He can't help it.... Davy was in the Navy and everyone knows those Squids/Saltwater Cowboys/Whalefuckers are all strange in the head.

Oh, and to you and Bonnie, the dream that a rich handsome man would splurge on a middle age house wife is laughable. If you're over 35 you're trolling for scraps.

The trope is that all typical American women over the age of 40 are landwhales. Luckily that's not always so.

On average 40% of all women worldwide make an extra effort to take care of themselves such that they still look good even into their 50's. Sometimes genetics even helps-the LBFM is in her 50's, has had 2 kids and still looks good, is very loud and enthusiastic in bed and squirts when she cums.

And... could a good looking 30-50 yr old American woman land a rich American man? Probably not... Every rich WASR guy I know wants a sweet subservient Asian, spicy Latino or sophisticated Eurobabe as arm candy. OTOH every nouveau riche Asian, South African, Arab, S&C American and East European tycoon wants North American arm candy.

BTW who is Bonnie? Can you provide a link to her page?

AnonymousAnonymousabout 9 years ago
Gave it a 1

The only thing sad and predictable is bonnietaylor2. Who said we read all eight chapters. Comments said it all. Gave every chapter a one to offset that cunts worthless fives.

NewYorkeroticNewYorkeroticabout 9 years ago
The Learning Curve.

Our protagonist is realizing that the logic of a society such as this is that everyone -- like everything -- tends to be reduced merely to its exchange value. That may be what Penny (now Vivian) wants (or wanted), but does her inner Stella -- who basically started this journey as a girl who just wanted to have fun -- really want to become just another coldly-calculated commodity in a world in which money is the measure of all value at the expense of her dignity and humanity?

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