He wandered down the street slowly, walking leisurely, despite the late hour and the section of town. He was looking for her, and nothing was going to stop him from finding her. Not tonight. Tonight he needed her. Each time they walked by, he'd look them over, from top to bottom. Mostly, though, he'd look at their eyes. And each time he found himself shaking his head. No...no...too jaded...too old...too rich. Each time, he was met with jeers and offers. Each one had something to offer him. "Hey handsome...wanna date? I'm a great date, and I'm sure you got a good HEAD on your shoulders..." "Hey stud, I got something you need...right here." Each time, he smiled. Each time he shook his head. Perhaps another night they -would- have what he needed. (And God help them if they did) But tonight he was looking for Her. He turned back towards the parking lot. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't going to find her. Not here. Maybe it was the part of town. Maybe she was on the Northside, or the Westside. He would check. He had all night. As he drove along Stetson Blvd., he saw her. She was walking much too fast, and a bit clumsily, as if she didn't quite have the hang of the high heels she was wearing. As if perhaps the tight red latex mini were making her feel just a bit too uncomfortable. He pulled up along side of her. He wanted to make sure. He stopped the car. She turned to look at him. The look of relief on her face was evident. He wasn't a sleaze. He was dressed in a nice pair of slacks and a sweater. He was smiling. He was probably just lonely. Hell, he was probably just as uncomfortable as she was. "Hi there," he said, "need a ride?" "Well, yeah...if you're headed where I'm headed." "I am." She smiled and walked to the door, "in that case, sure..." She had a room in what appeared to be a run-down boarding house about a mile from where he picked her up. The closet door was closed, but he could imagine the tawdry outfits he would find if he opened the door. The only pieces of furniture were the bed and the dresser. The bed was made, but somewhat untidy. He sat down on the edge of it. "What's your name?" he asked her. "What do you want it to be?" she smiled, jokingly. "I don't want to fuck you," he said softly. She nodded. She'd been right. Just a lonely guy wanting to talk. She'd heard that a lot of the girls had guys like this. So you smile, you act a little innocent, and then they give you a big tip. Just like that. Easy money. "My name's Anna," she said. He smiled. "No it's not," he said, "but that's okay. I can call you Anna tonight. Would you please get undressed, Anna?" She blinked. He wasn't going to fuck her, but he wanted her to get undressed. Well, okay, why not? He was paying, after all. "I need to..uh...I need to see the money." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened his wallet and showed her what was easily be fifteen one hundred dollar bills. She nodded, trying not to show her interest in the money, and began to remove her clothes. He watched, silently, as she removed her heels, and then her black stockings. She started to say something to him, but he held a finger to his lips, and she finished removing her clothes in silence. When she was standing, naked before him, he leaned back against the headboard, pulled his legs onto the bed, and motioned for him to come and lay next to him. She hesitated for just a moment, but then complied, and moved next to him on the bed, laying on her back, and looking at him. "Close your eyes..." he said softly. It wasn't a command, but the force behind his voice made her look twice at him. "Close them, Anna," he repeated. She nodded, and, although she was beginning to tense up, she obeyed him. She felt his fingers touch her stomach, and she began to shiver. She was beginning to wonder what this man wanted. He was a little different than any of the others she had been with. It appeared that all he wanted to do was touch her. That was a little spooky. Then again, she'd only been doing this for a few weeks, and everything was still a little spooky to her. He was moving his fingers in little circles on her stomach, not moving towards her breasts nor moving downwards, but just staying in the same general area, stroking her. Then he did the strangest thing... He began singing to her. Softly, and only slightly out of tune. She tried to stop herself from laughing, but the smile wouldn't stay away. He was singing an old song that she remembered from being a child. "The ants go marching ten by ten...hurrah, hurrah...the ants go marching ten by ten...hurrah, hurrah...the ants go marching ten by ten, the last one stops to..." he stopped and she opened her eyes to look up at him. "Do you remember what the last one stopped to do, Anna?" She nodded, "Yeah, the last one stopped to buy some din..." He looked, cockeyed at her, "To buy some DIN? What's that supposed to mean?" She shrugged and found herself giggling. "I dunno. But that's the way I remember it." He chuckled, and put one finger under her chin, "tsk, tsk...you opened your eyes, little one." She smiled and immediately shut them again. "I'm sorry," she said softly. Perhaps he was one of -those-. Into giving orders. Maybe he was even one of those who liked it when she called them daddy. Maybe she would surprise him by calling him daddy before he ever asked. But he didn't ask. And she didn't call him that. Because suddenly she felt his fingers on her clit. She let out a small, involunaty moan. That was the first time in two weeks where she'd actually felt something when a man touched her there. Her eyes clenched more tightly closed. He was stroking her, and singing to her. It was the strangest combination of things she'd felt in ages. She wanted to laugh, and she wanted to moan and arch her back all at the same time. She was relaxing under the ministrations of this strange man who was paying -her- for sex. But then he stopped singing and began talking to her. "Anna, why do you do this?" She opened her eyes, and immediately felt his free hand come up to cover her face again. He wanted her eyes closed. "I...uh...*oooh* I need the money." "Yes, you do need the money, don't you? And that's why you're here... That's why you're willing to give your body to any man who wants it. Why you're willing to give your body to any stranger...like me for instance..." She nodded her head, just a bit, suddenly confused. The feelings in her body were incredible, but his voice had become like ice. Oh, he was still speaking softly, and he still sounded friendly...but there was something under that voice. Like broken glass wrapped in bunny fur. "Have you ever thought of it, Anna... you're a whore. There isn't a single part of your body that I couldn't have if I had the right amount of money. If I took out one of those bills you saw, I could have your cunt... couldn't I, slut?" She resisted the urge to open her eyes. Suddenly she didn't want to see him anymore. She was sure he had suddenly turned into a monster. One of those sleaze bags she had every other night. The ones who liked to call her "slut", and "whore" and "cunt". She nodded softly. Yes, he could have her cunt for a hundred dollars. For much less, even. And she knew it. "Yes...and for another of those bills, I could take your mouth. Isn't that right, my pretty little toy? I could fuck your mouth with my cock. You'd even let me do it without a condom. Because you're a good little girl. And you're only doing this because you have no choice, isn't that right? You need the money that badly." He was still stroking her clit, softly, and now she felt him slip a finger inside of her. She gasped and arched her back, but felt his hand push her back down. "Am I right, slut? You need this money so badly that you'd let me fuck your mouth without a condom, wouldn't you?" She tried to think about this, but couldn't grasp an answer. What he was doing to her body was too intense for her to think. So he stopped. "Well?" he demanded. "Yes...," she answered, frustrated, "Yes, I would. I would let you fuck my mouth without a condom, and come down my throat if you wanted to. Yes." He smiled. "I thought so. And for yet another bill, you'd probably let me fuck your ass as well, wouldn't you?" He had begun to stroke her again, his finger moving softly inside of her, but suddenly all she could sense was his voice. She was still an anal virgin. She had been lucky in that noone had wanted that from her yet. This man was going to take her ass... she could sense that. Her body started to shake. "Shhh, calm down," he said softly, "and just answer the question...I'm not going to hurt you just now. But I could if I wanted to, couldn't I? Because that's your job little slut. It's your job to make me happy. And if it made me happy to hurt you, I could, couldn't I? I bet other men will want to hurt you...other men will want to use your body, and tear you apart..." She felt his fingers moving over her clit, a little faster now. Despite her sudden shakes and the way his voice was affecting her, she was close to coming. And then, suddenly, his fingers were gone. She cried out. "Yes, little slut. You want this, don't you? For the first time in your pathetic, useless life, you want to be fucked, don't you?" She nodded her head, frantically, her body still shaking, and her nerves all jumbled up. She was confused. "Tell me your name," he ordered, his voice still soft. "A...Ann.." She felt him slap her lightly across the face. "Your real name." "S...Staci," she answered, in shock. The slap hadn't hurt, but she felt the hand still there, as if it had burned her. "Yes. Staci. Probably from some little town in nowhere, America. Here in the big city. Same story as half a billion other girls. What makes you so special Staci? You're just like every other one of them. The only thing you're good for is fucking. Isn't that right? You'll never be an actress or a model or a star. You'll always be on your back though...where you belong." She shook her head, angry, that wasn't true. "Yes, Staci. Yes. You can deny it all you want. But what you want is someone like me. You want someone with money. Someone who will make you feel secure. You want me to take you out of this room tonight, and put you up in a fancy room and come make love to you once a week and pay all your bills. Isn't that right, Staci?" She was shaking hard now, on the verge of crying. Had he just said he would take her away? Make her his mistress? Pay her bills? She nodded, yes, she wanted that. "And if I took you away from here, Staci, would you let me hurt you? Would you let me call you a whore and a bitch?" She nodded again, the tears beginning to flow down her cheeks. "Yes, you would let me hurt you. I know you would. Because you need the money, and like all little tramps, you will do anything for that money. Say it, Staci. Say, 'I'm a whore. I'm a slut, and if you take me away from here, I'll do anything for you.' Say it." She was crying, and nodding. And her mouth was playing traitor to her mind. "Yes," she cried, "yes, I am a whore. I am a slut, and I'll do anything if you take me away...please...please take me away. I don't want to do this." He smiled. "Open your eyes," he said softly. She opened her eyes, and looked up at him. He looked so handsome. Like an angel almost. He reached down and stroked her cheek softly. "Oh my precious little Staci. My beautiful little whore. So eager and willing to please me. You would please me even if I wasn't going to take you away from here, wouldn't you?" She was nodding, and reaching for him, trying to pull him down to her. But he was holding her arms away from him and shaking his head. "No. Staci, you're not fit to hold me. You know that. Now you be a good girl and lay there like I tell you to." She put her arms down and closed her eyes again. "I said open your eyes, little harlot." She opened them again and shook her head, "Please..." she begged. "Please what?" "Please take me away? Please let me make you happy..." "No. No, Staci, I think you're too filthy to leave the streets. You're a whore, and you belong on the streets. You want my money, and you'll have my money, but I don't want you. I spit on people better than you every day. You're worthless. A piece of litter on the streets. A little cunt who isn't good for anything but being fucked. You can stay here in your dingy little room. I'm going back to the people who would laugh at you. Who wouldn't give you the time of day..." "No..." she cried, "please...don't...don't go...not yet. Just stay a little while longer." "No." he replied. "You couldn't make it worth my while..." And he stood up. "NO!" she cried, louder, almost screaming, "please don't..." He reached into his wallet and pulled out four hundreds. He laid them on the dresser. He opened the door. "no...please..." she was whispering and crying. "You grow repetitive, dear. You'll find your money on the dresser." And he left.