"So." He started slowly, "I would like to talk to you about last night."

His piercing gaze was leveled with mine, waiting for my response.

Too bad I didn't have one.

There was no room left for interpretation since we were both well aware of what happened last night.

I cleared my throat and began to fiddle with my hands, "What about it?"

He leaned forward, "I have a proposition for you."

"Okay.." My voice trailed off, waiting for him to tell me what the proposition was.

"Well first, I'd like to know why you do what you do?"

HIs question irritated me because it wasn't his business why. I'd come across multiple men who'd asked me this as if they actually cared.

In reality, they probably all had the same fantasy of "saving" an escort because of her assumed troubled past, and her being so grateful for the out they provided, that she bent to his every will.

No fucking thanks.

"Because."

"I don't mean to offend you." He stated as he played with the pen on his desk, "I'm genuinely curious."

"I'm flattered. Go be genuinely curious somewhere else."

I didn't have to pretend to be polite because we clearly weren't speaking as teacher and student.

A chuckle left his throat, "Fine. How about I tell you why I think you do it, and you tell me if I'm wrong?"

Motioning for him to continue talking, I waited to hear his theory. It didn't take a rocket scientist to connect the dots. I'm a student so I'm sure he knew I did it to put myself through school.

"For tuition correct?"

Look at Einstein.

"Yes." I answered.

"So how about." He paused, "You drop all of your clients except me."

"You're not even my client."

"True, but I want to be. I'll pay you what you would make a month to only be with me."

On average, I made between $4800-7200 a month. That's if I didn't take a week off or if someone didn't reschedule.

I knew a professor's salary couldn't afford that, and even if he could, I wasn't interested.

Not only would I lose all of my clients should he decide he didn't want to do this arrangement anymore, but I also didn't like the thought of him having that much control over me.

"No thank you." I replied, "Is that all?"

His brows furrowed in confusion at my answer, since I was apparently supposed to fall over myself to be with him.

Tuh.

"You're not interested?" He asked.

"No."

"May I ask why?"

"No."

The similarity in this conversation between last night and today wasn't lost on me. My hope was that by keeping my answers short, he'd let the conversation die down and go find someone else to "help."

Jaxon rubbed a hand over his beard, "You didn't even take the time to think about it."

"I don't need time."

The clock on the wall ticked for what seemed like forever before he spoke again, "Are you sure?"

"Look, I'm not a charity case. I don't need your sympathy or your money for that matter."

"Charity case? Kyser, I just want to fuck you on a regular basis." He said nonchalantly, "You charge for that, and I'm willing to pay."

The embarrassment.

I stood up abruptly, the chair teetering behind me, "If you want someone to fuck, go fuck yourself you rude piece of shit."

His face didn't change in the slightest, "I hope you'll reconsider."

As I walked out his office, I couldn't help but feel happy that I was finally able to tell him how I felt about him.

• • •

Harry was a younger client, one who I didn't really enjoy.

He was always rough, sometimes to the point where I had to tell him he was hurting me.

I anticipated today was going to be one of those days.

Power was his thing. He needed to feel like he was in control of everything that took place. I think it was daddy issues since the few times we talked, it was always about how his dad didn't respect him.

There's therapy for that, sir.

I currently sat on my knees as he fucked my face, gripping my hair so tightly it felt as if he would rip it out.

The speed he was going was beginning to be uncomfortable and I could barely breathe. His hands then released my hair and he gripped my head, pushing his dick to the back of my throat.

This caused a choking sensation and I tried to move, but he refused to relieve the pressure, ignoring my hands pushing against his thighs

"That's right. Choke on my cock." He encouraged.

Bitch I'm about to die.

My eyes watered as he held my mouth against him before abruptly moving.

I heard him laugh as I began to cough violently, trying to catch my breath.

When I could finally breathe again, I stood up and went to get dressed.

"Where are you going?" He had the audacity to ask me.

He didn't deserve my answer.

"I paid for two fucking hours. Not a half-assed blow job."

I ignored him, continuing to get dressed. He had just tried to kill me, then laughed about it, and expects me to stay? I had already give up my dignity, $600 isn't worth my fucking life.

Reaching into my purse I dropped $300 on the floor and walked out of the room.

This wasn't the first time this had happened. A similar incident was just last month when a client tried Anal after I told him no.

After being with the agency for a year or so, Ava and I decided to branch off. She had the clients and referred some to me.

We made more money this way by cutting out the booking fee and the agency fee.

The downside of doing freelance is that you lose that aspect of protection from your agency. I always search sites for bad reviews on customers before I accept their date, but that's all I can do.

These men don't respect me because to them, I'm not worthy of their respect. Another body that they're paying to use in whichever way they saw fit.

At least Jaxon had the decency to show respect and I didn't think he'd do anything of the sort simply because he could lose everything he'd worked for in a matter of days if I told.

The second time this had happened.

It won't be a third.

I sent Ava a message asking for Jaxon's number so that I could call him the next day.

______

author's note: thanks for reading. don't forget to vote & comment pls 💕