Supply and Demand Pt. 02

Six months later...

Jenny strolled down the grey gleaming corridor leading to Danton's office. She couldn't do much else in the four inch heels that she now routinely wore. She could feel how they made her arse sway, as she put one foot in front of the other. She knew, now, how to walk in real heels. But she was impatient. She wanted to get to the meeting with Danton. She was sure that today he'd have to admit defeat. She'd hoped the same three months ago. But they'd gone over the records together and she'd had to agree that she'd made no noticeable difference at all to his business. If anything, Danton's take was better than when she'd started. Jenny was sure that he wasn't lying. She knew enough accounting, together with her observations from the brothel, to know that she hadn't won. It was frustrating. But he'd been generous about it, and said she could have another three months. He even suggested that she bring in a partner to help, offered to pay them both an allowance.

It was a good idea and Jenny had happily agreed. Her friend Sally had been eager to help. At least, Sally was eager after Jenny had taken her friend to see Danton and left them to have a private chat. And in return for another three months all Jennifer had had to do was agree to keep visiting Danton for regular talks. Apparently Sally did too, but that wasn't any of Jenny's business. Jenny had hesitated at first. To take another three months meant delaying the start of her career again, and keeping on having sex with all those men. She'd lost count of how many. But she was determined to beat Danton, and somehow the idea of all that sex hadn't seemed as bad as it had at the start. A little part of her admitted it was fun, that she liked the sex. She tried not to acknowledge that part of her mind, or how her arousal would spark whenever she as much thought about what she was doing with the men, how she was always wet and ready for them. The thoughts simmered just below the level of her consciousness, secrets she wouldn't admit, even to herself. They didn't matter. It was all about defeating Danton. So she'd agreed to another three months. She was going to win.

Danton was already seated in the chair under the mirror when she entered the room. He smiled, indicating the seat for her to sit in. Jenny knew. It was the one in which she always sat. She removed the coat she wore against the winter cold and took the offered seat. She glanced up at her reflection and smiled. It smiled back, lights sparkling around it as they always did.

Danton looked at the woman across from him. He wondered if anyone who saw her today would recognise her as the same determined young campaigner who had come to see him six months ago. Oh, the determination was still there, just a little, re-directed. But the simple pony tail was gone. Jenny's blonde hair was longer now, not tied back, bleached a lighter shade, teased out and falling in waves. Her make-up was much heavier. She no longer wore simple dresses. Today her skirt, pink, was so obscenely short that it was little better than a belt. Even before she sat down it did nothing to hide the tops of her stockings and the ends of the garters that held them up. Her top was hardly more than straps over her shoulders and a narrow strip of cloth around her breasts, just barely covering her nipples, the tops and bottoms of her breasts clearly exposed. It hadn't taken many conversations to convince Jenny that she needed to display her wares to good effect if she was to direct any custom her way. It was just as well that she'd worn a thick coat, Danton mused, warm, even if it was pink and reached no lower than her skirt. That is, just grazing the bottom of her crotch. Her clothes offered no protection against the cold. Or anything else.

"Hello Jenny," he began. Danton knew that she thought of herself as Jenny now, not Jennifer. Another conversation had been devoted to customer relations. How taking a more relaxed attitude would help. And how she needed to really take that attitude to heart. After that she had never referred to or thought of herself as Jennifer again.

"Hello," she replied, brightly. Jenny always tried to keep a smile on her face, the product of another conversation, that one devoted to how a happy attitude rubbed off on a customer.

"OK, to business. I'm sorry," Danton continued without a break, "even with Sally's help, you haven't made any difference." Danton smiled, remembering how he convinced Jenny to bring her friend Sally along to see him, after her first three months of 'effort' had failed. All it had taken was a short discussion about how having partners in a business often helped. Sally was a cute little thing, barely five foot two, with short dark hair that framed an angelic face. It had only taken a couple of private discussions with her before Sally had broken easily. The innocent ones usually do, Danton reflected. He'd been pleased to discover that Sally was a virgin before being convinced to join Jenny's efforts. Now she was a no-pay, no-play kind of girl. Danton doubted that Sally would ever have sex that didn't involve her getting paid. He'd managed more with the cute brunette in three months then he had with Jenny in six. Sally knew exactly what she was now, was just playing along with Jenny, had been for weeks. Danton intended to rectify Jenny's misconceptions today.

"Shit," the exclamation by Jenny accompanied by her smile slipping before quickly reappearing, "I really thought we'd get you this time." Convincing her to adopt a more relaxed attitude to swearing, so that the men she dealt with weren't put off by her mode of speech, had taken a few meetings. Another couple to make her willing to give them the verbal encouragement they expected. All up, more meetings than it took to have Jenny changing her clothing style, Danton mused. But all achievable, as would more be today. Danton could see that Jenny's eyes were already held by her reflection, above and behind him. Good, he thought. And this time Jenny had accepted his word about her failure in their competition without asking to see proof.

"I think we may need a little reconsideration to see where we are."

"Umm, ok," Danton could see the distant look in Jenny's eyes.

"Now, you're trying to drive me out of business, aren't you?" From Danton's tone he may have been discussing something of little importance, polite questions, would a guest prefer scotch or bourbon, ice or straight, but his eyes were fixed on the pretty blonde.

"Yes." Jenny's eyes were wide. Danton could see her smile and knew that she was thinking about winning their competition. She could hold that thought for now. Very soon she'd have no more use for it.

"In fact, Jenny, we're competing. You might call us competitors." Danton allowed his smile to become predatory. He knew that the girl wouldn't see it, wouldn't know what to think about it if she did.

"If you say so," Jenny's words were slightly slurred, as if she was in the middle of a dream.

"Now, competitors might use different language and words. But if they're competing, then they have to be doing the same thing, or how can they be competitors?"

"Umm, I, I don't know." Danton could see the frown form and disappear on Jenny's face. She never liked frowning for long these days. He suspected that the thought that had caused her unhappy expression had vanished with the frown.

"And competitors, whatever terms they use to refer to their activities, have to be in the same business, don't they Jenny?"

Jenny's eyes were wide, fixed on her reflection "Umm, I."

Danton pressed the point, carefully watching the girl's eyes, fixed as they were on her reflection "So if we're competitors, Jenny, we must be in the same business."

Her eyes didn't move, continuing to be locked on her reflection, but Danton could see something stirring in them. Some hint of the old Jennifer. "No, that's, that's not right, I'm not."

"Don't be silly, Jenny," Danton chided. "We offer the same services, so we must be in the same business." It had taken more meetings than Danton had wanted to convince Jennifer that simply offering vanilla sex wasn't going to prise many customers away from the prostitutes. If she was going to compete with the whores who worked for him then she had to provide an attractive range of services. Slowly Jenny had been convinced to widen her offering, until it rivalled any of the girls working for him. Her range was now more than competitive.

Jenny nodded, her eyes wide, fearful.

"Stand up." Danton snapped. Jenny had no choice but to obey. She stood, suddenly unsteady on her heels where before she'd been confident. She wobbled, like a teenager trying on her first pair of heels before a school dance. All the time her eyes remained fixed on the image in the mirror.

"What do you see, Jenny, don't think of it as a mirror, what do you see?" Danton's tone was more demanding now, the words sharper, coming quicker, he needed to keep the girl focussed on what he wanted.

"A, a girl?" Jenny was swaying slightly.

"And what's she wearing?"

"A, a skirt?"

Danton allowed himself a smile "That's right Jenny, a skirt so short that she flashes everyone as she walks by. And what about her tits, how much of them can you see?"

He could see her shaking now. "Almost, almost all of them."

"That's right, you can see almost all of her tits. Can you say that, Jenny?" Danton calmed his voice, allowing hints of reassurance to creep in, coaxing her like a child.

"You can see almost all of her tits," the blonde replied, automatically.

Danton paused, letting Jenny dwell on her reflection. Giving her time for the image seep into her mind. "And that girl, what does she spend her time doing?"

Jenny's tone changed, sounding more like Jennifer, "She, she stops men."

Danton cut her off, firmly, he wasn't going to allow any evasion on her part, "That might be her objective, what she actually does is have sex, isn't it Jenny?"

"Yes." He could see a small tear run down Jenny's left cheek.

"She gets fucked. A lot. Say that Jenny."

"She, she gets fucked." Her voice was low, halting.

"And I pay her, and all she does is get fucked. In business you get paid for what you do, not what you want. So she gets paid to be fucked." Danton knew that he could have left Jenny as she was before today. Letting her continue to believe that she was still trying to drive him out of business by offering everything his other whores did. But he wanted her to realise what she really was. His other girls didn't like it that Jenny got paid less than them. It made them worry about their incomes. He could have put them all in front of the mirror, but that wasn't worth the effort. There were limits and using the mirror had a price. So today was going to cost him a little money as Jenny's income improved, but he considered it money well spent. "So tell me what she does."

"She, she gets paid to be fucked." Jenny's voice was only a whisper now.

"And what do we call girls that get paid to be fucked?"

"I, no." Danton could see more of Jennifer in Jenny's expression. Her resistance was feeble, and pointless, but it was there, he could see it in her eyes. It had to be there if he was to break it.

"Come now Jenny, you know the answer. Don't be silly. What do we call girls that get paid to be fucked?" Danton's tone was insistent now, relentless.

The girl in front of him quailed, "P-prostitutes?"

"Good girl," Danton replied, not bothering to hide the condescension, "prostitutes, whores, hookers. That girl's a whore. Look at her Jenny. She looks like a whore, she acts like a whore, she gets fucked like a whore, paid like a whore. She's just a little fucking whore. Say it, Jenny."

The girl shook her head, feebly, never taking her eyes off the image in the mirror. The image of a pretty, made-up, whore.

"Say it," Danton snapped. Jenny bent a leg at the knee, one foot lifted off the floor. It made her look unsteady, in a cute sort of way. Danton watched as the foot slowly returned to the floor. He could see her mouth moving, but no words came out.

"Say it," he barked, like a drill sergeant to a tardy recruit.

"She, she, she's just a little fucking whore." He could see Jenny's breathing, deep and ragged, after she rushed to the end of the sentence.

Danton relaxed, allowed some warmth back into his voice, "And who is it in the mirror, Jenny. Who is it who dresses like a whore? Acts like a whore? Gets fucked like a whore? Paid like a whore? Who is nothing but a little fucking whore?"

"N, no." Danton could hear the choke in Jenny's voice. She was trying to shake her head, but she couldn't as much as she wanted to, not with her eyes glued to the image in the mirror.

"You can say it Jenny."

"No, please, don't make me, please." Jennifer pleaded with him. Definitely Jennifer now, not Jenny, a last, desperate attempt to break free. Danton could see more tears forming in her eyes.

Danton wasn't intending to give her any relief. Jennifer the crusader, the would-be career woman, was done. She would only be Jenny the whore when she walked out of this room.

"Say it, Jenny." His voice was patient now, like a parent coaxing a child, "Say it." Danton waited. He could afford to wait.

Jennifer's mouth moved again, soundlessly. The tears were running down both her cheeks. And then, her shoulders sagging, Danton heard her say "Me." He saw Jennifer splinter and disappear in Jenny's eyes.

"That's right Jenny, good girl. Tell me that you're a whore."

"I, I'm a whore." He could see her shoulders straighten, just a little.

"You're just a little fucking whore. Isn't that right Jenny?"

Jenny's smile was back now. Her resistance was broken. "I'm just a little fucking whore."

"You're just a whore. And I pay you, so you work for me." Danton allowed himself a smile in return.

"Sure, I'm a whore, I work for you."

"You're tits are for sale, your pussy's for sale." Danton knew that it wasn't necessary to keep going. The girl was broken. She'd happily whore for him now. But it was fun. Jennifer had never seriously inconvenienced him, her and her stupid little protest group. But they'd irritated him. So he was going to draw this out.

Jenny stuck her chest out. "My tits are for sale, my pussy is for sale."

"You love being a whore, you love being fucked for money." It was cruel, she was putty now. Would be until she looked away from the mirror.

Jenny's smile grew wider, "I love being a whore. I love being fucked for money."

"Do you want to be anything other than a whore?"

Jenny paused. All she'd had to do for the last few minutes was repeat what Danton had said to her. That had been easy. She couldn't have done anything else. But now he'd asked her a question. Sure, she loved being a whore, getting paid to be fucked. She could admit now how hot it was, how aroused she was right now, thinking about it, how wet it made her. She knew that she she'd been silly, had pretended that she'd been doing something else for six months. But now she realised that she'd been a whore all along. Had been a whore since her first fucking six months ago, just hours after her first conversation with Danton in this room. And that was okay by her. But was that all she wanted? Hadn't she wanted more, once, sometime? A career? Something other than selling herself to any man? She knew that she had to answer Danton.

"No, I love being a whore, I never want to be anything else." Even Jenny could hear the distant, happy, tone of her voice as any other dreams of the future splintered and died.

"Good girl." Jenny could hear the praise in Danton's voice. It made her happy. She'd given the right answer.

"And you're just a girl aren't you? A silly little girl who's a whore. A piece of arse, a prostitute. Not a woman."

Was that right? Jenny wondered. She was 22. Didn't that make her a woman? But Danton was right, Danton was always right. She could join the dots, she might be a silly whore, but that didn't mean she was stupid. Self-respecting women weren't whores. They didn't do what she did. Let themselves be used as she allowed. Their pussies wouldn't be wet and ready and eager for any man with the money to pay them. So she wasn't a woman. She'd never think of herself as a woman again. Only a girl. A silly little girl.

"I'm just a whore, a silly little girl, a prostitute."

Danton was leaning forward in his chair. Jenny could see that in the mirror. She couldn't see his face, of course, but she thought that there was an air of eagerness, of focus, about him.

"And whores, prostitutes, they don't have breasts or a vagina, do they Jenny? Those are things women have."

Jenny nodded. Danton was right. He was always right.

"So what do you have Jenny, what words do you use?"

The words came easily to her. She thought that maybe once they wouldn't have but that made no sense now. "Tits, boobs, jugs, funbags. Pussy, cunt, slit, fuckhole." They were words for what she had. What a prostitute had. She could have said more, there were lots more fun words for what she had, but she thought that what she'd said was enough, for now. She didn't want to waste Danton's time. She'd heard those words, heard them used by the men who paid her. Hell, she'd even used a couple herself. But not all of them, not before today.

"That's right Jenny, good girl." Jenny smiled. She knew which words to use now, which were the right words for her, for a whore. The words women could use didn't apply to her anymore, if they ever had.

"Are you a good girl Jenny? Do you use contraception?"

"Um, yeah?" Jenny wasn't sure what the proper answer was. She thought she had it right. Falling pregnant would take time away from whoring.

"Good girl, good girl," Danton reassured her. Jenny was relieved, she had found the right answer.

"But," he added, almost an afterthought "nothing's perfect, so what would you do if you ever did get knocked up?"

Jenny thought she knew the answer to the question. Being pregnant would take time away from whoring. She didn't want that. She loved being a whore. But she wasn't sure, and she didn't want to give a wrong answer. She didn't want to disappoint Danton, she thought, as a half answer tumbled from her lips. "Umm, uh, get an, an ab,"

"No Jenny," Danton cut her off. Jenny felt sick, her answer had been wrong. Giving Danton the wrong answer brought an almost physical pain.

"Jenny, Jenny, it's all right. You're only a silly little girl." Relief swept through Jenny. Danton wasn't angry at her. "Let me tell you what you'll do. If you ever get knocked up, you'll have the baby. If it's a boy, you'll give it to me and I'll see that he gets a good home, if it's a girl, you'll keep it. Do you know why?"

"Umm, no," Jenny ventured, cautious. She really didn't know the answer. She'd absorbed every word, would do what she was told. But Danton hadn't told her why. Her reflection was no help, either. And she didn't want to guess, in case she was wrong. She didn't want the pain to come back.

"Because, Jenny, if you have any daughters then you will raise them to be just like you, They'll grow up to be little fucking whores, just like their mother. I'll help make sure of that. Tell me what you'll do Jenny."

It was easy now, Danton had told her the right answer. "If I have any daughters, I'll raise them to be little fucking whores, just like me. You'll help me. Mother and daughter whores." Jenny smiled. The idea of being a knocked-up whore wasn't so bad now. It was almost attractive. She wouldn't go looking for it, well, not right away, but she wouldn't mind if it happened. She liked the idea of having a daughter or two, and raising them to be prostitutes, little fucking whores, just like her. Yeah, she'd do that someday. Definitely. And Danton would help make sure that her daughters turned out right, little fucking whores just like their mother.