Supply and Demand Pt. 02

"You never went to college, did you Jenny?" Danton asked, leaning back in his chair. Jenny could she he was relaxing, that made her feel good. "You just bummed around after high school, waiting for your chance to start turning tricks."

Wait, Jenny thought, no, that wasn't right. Hadn't she? Memories wavered as she groped for them. She remembered something, study? Success? But Danton was always right. And she didn't want the pain to come back. So she must never have done anything much after high school except waiting to be a whore. What had she done? Cheap, dead-end, jobs? She remembered those. Yeah, that's what a whore in waiting would do. Waiting for her chance to prostitute herself. So it must be what she'd done. It was what she'd done. Jenny felt strange, as if her head was rearranging itself. She remembered school, remembered wanting to go to college. She remembered how different she'd been, how she'd hated prostitution, despised the men, pitied the women, what a fool she'd been. But something had changed, made her realise that she'd been wrong, so wrong. Made her want this. It had taken years, for her to summon up the courage to do what she really wanted, come to Danton, beg for the chance to work for him, whoring herself. She remembered how he'd helped her, agreed to her request, all the talks, as he'd helped her learn what she needed to know to be a good whore. Someday she might remember what it was that had changed her mind, but it didn't matter, she had what she wanted now. Her mind reeled again, as she remembered her life, then the world righted.

"No, I never went to college. What would a silly little girl like me want with college?" Her reflection beamed at her, the lights dancing. Jenny knew that it was right answer. Of course it was. If she'd gone to college she would remember it.

"Does WFP mean anything to you Jenny? I don't think it does, but I'd like to know for sure."

Jenny frowned. She was sure that those letters had meant something to her. But then Danton had said he didn't think that they did, and the hint of memory had slithered away and vanished.

"No, should it?" Jenny shrugged.

"Oh, I don't know," Danton seemed to be thinking out loud, "maybe we could start something. Whores for prostitution. Well-fucked prostitutes? What do you think? You could be the spokeswoman. Oh, sorry, you're not a woman. How about spokeswhore?"

"Sure." Jenny wasn't really sure what Danton as on about. But she could do anything. As long as it involved whoring.

"So, Jenny, much as I'm enjoying our talk, we both have things to do. So let's wrap this up. You're a whore, a prostitute. You sell your tits, your pussy, your whole body, you get fucked for money. You love it and you never want to do anything else. You're just a little fucking whore."

Jenny couldn't help but agree. It was true. Deep down, at the core of her being, she was a whore. Right alongside the concepts of being human, female, of self, of identity, wound around all that, infusing it, was the utter certainty that she was a whore. "Sure, I sell myself, I love it, I get fucked for money and I never want to be anything other than a little fucking whore."

"Jenny, look at me." How long had she been looking at the mirror? She didn't want to look away. She loved the lights that sparkled around her image. And she loved her reflection. How her image in the mirror made it clear that she was nothing but a whore, a prostitute. But Danton had said look at him, so she did.

"I think we can look on this as a takeover or may be the end of an internship." Danton smiled at what Jenny thought was some private joke. "You'll be on the same rates as the other girls from now on, paid by the trick. They'd be angry if you kept undercutting them. And if you're part of the business we can't have that."

"Sure." Jenny didn't care too much. But more money would be useful for keeping herself looking good. The type of outfits that she wore certainly weren't priced by the amount of cloth that was in them. And then there was make-up and getting her hair done and manicures and exfoliation (where had she learnt such a big word?) and...

Danton idly gestured for her to leave, his attention now on other things. "Well, run along, I'm sure there's some demand you want to supply."

Jenny couldn't agree more. There were always men out there demanding the services of a little fucking whore like her. And she wanted to supply as much of that demand as she could. She couldn't think of anything better.

The End