The Degradation of Shelby Ann by Emma Cole

I’m a Mess

Eden

I stumbled a few steps on the spiked heels before I caught my balance. I'd also caught the attention of the room's occupants, except for Trixie, whose bleach-blonde head was bobbing in the lap of one of the men from earlier. The clients sat on the booth in front of a makeshift stage, a table that was bolted to the floor. It was close enough to reach out and touch, but far enough away to fit a hooker on her knees. Mirrors ran across the wall above the booth, their reflection softened by the swirls of gold etched into them.

Other than his fly hanging open and his pants slightly lowered, the man Trixie serviced was fully dressed, as was his friend. They were of the typical coloring of this area, with dark hair and eyes, though one's skin tone was a bit swarthier than the other. From their kempt nails, appearance, and quality suits, I surmised they were made men or one of the local families' 'cousins.' A wannabe would be slick, but they tended toward off-the-rack wear. If these guys were slumming it, they would have dressed down, but not cheaply.

I took it all in at a glance, my mouth running dry at whatever game Danny was playing. They had better quality pussy at their beck and call, and I wanted far, far away from whatever these men were really here for. Not to say my cunt was sloppy or unclean. I worked hard not to catch anything, including feelings, but I wasn't even a bit refined. No, I was a wrong side of the tracks girl who got paid by the activity picked off a fucking laminated menu. Men wearing bespoke suits didn't need women like Trixie with obvious home bleach jobs or me in my dollar store lingerie; they could afford top-notch trophies along with all their accoutrements. Even under the high, I was embarrassed by my attire. I'd worn it to keep the spendier stuff used on stage from getting torn up, and now I came off like the backroom tramp I was. At least I'd had Mandy wax me in our little makeshift salon in the corner of the dressing room after our shift the night before last. No stubble here.

My eyes drifted back to the hands of the men. I only recognized the tailored suits because we knew to look out for them and make ourselves scarce if they showed up, not because I could tell what label was inside based on the cut or drapery or whatever the fuck it was called. No signet rings were present on his fingers, so not immediate circles, but the clothes still had me on edge. Cherry Baby sat in the midpoint between territories. Danny paid out the ass for the privilege of being in the neutral zone, so the lower initiates and wannabes from both the Carlotti and Finelli crews would come in, but never on the same night as the guys with actual power. Men like these never came in when we were open to the public. They'd occasionally use the club as a meeting place, but to be here tonight meant something was going—

"Hey, my dick isn't gonna suck itself. Get the fuck over here." The finger snap that accompanied the voice startled me out of my racing thoughts. All this shit was ruining my high.

Without protest, I sauntered across the room to the horseshoe-shaped booth and dropped to my knees in front of the man. Tossing my long dark hair behind one shoulder, I reached out to unfasten his trousers.

I peeked up from under lashes heavy with mascara and ran my tongue over my full lips, wetting them, as I deftly fished the man's dick out of his silky boxers. His eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, and shining with lustful anticipation— his mouth open enough that I could see the pink tip of his tongue tracing the edges of his ultra white top teeth. After a slight tug from me, he lifted his hips enough that I could reach his smooth balls. I wasn't sure if he was naturally almost hairless, but there wasn't much more than fuzz, a blessing in some cases.

Leaning in, my tongue darted out to swirl around the ruddy tip of an above average-sized dick before my jaw opened wide, allowing his length to tunnel straight to the back of my throat. With tried and true expertise, I sucked and licked him to the precipice as I tugged lightly on his delicate sack, murmuring soft moans timed to vibrate the head every time it nestled in my throat.

I wasn't even taking him all the way before he tapped out, dragging his dick from the suction of my swollen lips with a pop and a string of saliva trailing after it. Wiping the moisture off on my shoulder with a quick twist of my head, I shot a questioning gaze at my client.

"Did I do something wrong?" I nearly purred, hiding my frustration that he’d stopped me when I’d almost had him blowing his load. Fuck, I nearly took it without a condom. Fucking tweaker move, Eden. Berating myself, I tried to pay attention to the man while also attempting to catch sight of the bowl of condoms that was usually set out. Hopefully not cherry this time. Cute that they matched the name of the club, but the damn things burned my snatch, and washing the sickly sweet smell out of there was a nightmare. Not to mention the after-effects of using them with anal that didn't bear thinking about. It took more than a smidge of effort to abort my shudder.

"No," he answered sharply, patting my cheek just as I spied the bowl on a side table. He then reached over to grab a handful of Trixie’s hair, pulling her off his friend, her face sweaty and lips swollen. "Jesus fuck, you suck at sucking. Angel had me about done within two minutes, and you've been hoovering Oscar's porker for ten minutes straight. Did you leave the man any skin?"

A glance at Oscar's shiny member revealed it was indeed a bit red, but it was also half-limp and still comparable in size to the stiffy I'd been servicing. I wondered if he had issues getting a full erection, some large men did, and alternately felt badly and a bit vindictive that Trixie was turning fifty shades of red from her efforts and consternation. I rarely had any trouble sucking a dick to full-mast. Hence another reason for our nemesis status— I was just plain better at everything.

"Get on the table, Hoover."

My smugness waned at the cueing of my least favorite part of the scheduled activities, at least the ones I knew about anyway. A stomach cramp nearly had me spewing on my client’s polished loafers, and I beat back the urge with my will alone. I was starting to wonder if the nausea wasn't just from my hatred of whoring and being sick from forgetting to eat tonight, but if I'd actually gotten a bad batch. Not like I could ask for a refund or could afford to buy more yet—especially after splitting this take with Trixie. Even if two were more expensive, she didn't command the same rates I did, and Danny would make me split the take fifty-fifty as usual. His house, his rules, and an even split kept most everyone happy.

"My Angel, why don't you get on top." It wasn't a question, and his familiar caress of my cheek and possessive use of my name made my blood run cold. I wouldn't be any man's regular warm hole, not after my mom and— fuck, I needed another hit.

Shakily, I got to my feet, the man chivalrously helping me up. The very idea of it was laughably ironic. I was here because of his cash, not because he was my date. I didn't want to risk a smack or pissing him off, so I complied with his demand, stopping briefly to shrug the flimsy lingerie off before I climbed up on the table. With the spin of no-name's finger, I changed direction to straddle Trixie's head.

"You had first pick last time, Oscar. I'm choosing this time, and we can switch for the next round." Next round? Oh, come the fuck on. Did they bring fucking boner pills? I stifled my initial groan but balked when neither of them moved toward the condoms.

"Hey, you guys gotta glove up. Should have had them on already, but I forgot to mention it." I held the man's stare as I made my demand, refusing to back down. This was one area Danny wouldn't hesitate to intervene over, special guests or not. Can't sell tainted pussy.

"Danny Boy said all the girls are clean. Was he lying?" The man started to tuck his dick back in, and I could see my next score dissolving into the ether along with my job. If this cunt claimed I said Danny couldn't be trusted, my ass would be out of here without even collecting the night's earnings.

"No, no. We're clean, but we stay that way by insisting on protection." He hesitated but didn't quite look sold. I knew what would work though. "Plus, some chicks see a little baby batter oopsie as a ticket out of here with the right man." Trixie started to say something, but I sat on her face, smothering her with my crotch, and aimed a pointed glance at the shaved pink pussy under me. That instantly had the man stepping over to grab a few foil squares, tossing one to his partner who seemed to be having better luck stroking his own dick. I lifted up, letting Trixie breathe when she tapped out on my outer thigh. Fucking idiot woman. Trying to get us screwed bareback. No way, you trashy whore.

"I'm Arlo by the way. And I think you heard Pony Boy back there is Oscar." The ripping of the packets rasped through the room, sending relief coursing through my veins... until Arlo explained what they wanted. "Danny said muff diving isn't your favorite, but you'd do it with a smile if we brought party favors. Then he wouldn't have to charge me double to get your cooperation." My ears perked up at party favors, but my brows lowered into a frown at the lost money. Fucking Danny.

"Would you like to do the honors?" Arlo held the thankfully pale, non-cherry rubber out to me, making a tsking noise when I tried to reach for it. Instead of handing it over, he rubbed the lubricated latex over my lower lip. Getting the hint, I took it into my mouth, working it around until I knew I had it going in the proper direction before taking the tip of his erection between lips. I slowly went down on him, the condom unrolling down his shaft until he hit my throat, and with a slight gag, I took him in to the hilt.

"Shit, yes. Angel has a divine mouth, Oscar. You're in for a treat." Bossy ass is gonna be in for a treat if he doesn't stop tickling my tonsils.

Thankfully, he retreated, directing me to lick and suck at Trixie's sex while he fucked her unless I was sucking on him. I wasn't high enough to give it much effort, doing the bare minimum to pass for the 'girl-on-girl' request and earn my cash. More than anything else, it was because I couldn't stand the bitch the pussy was attached to. What girl hasn't experimented or at least thought about it?

Trixie, though, didn't have any such reservations. She went to town, nearly gnawing on my clit and nether lips in her zest. Her focus moved to just my clit as Oscar pressed against my opening without any warm up and started to cram it in. Fucking Pony Boy was right, he's definitely hard now. I might have whimpered by the time he hit bottom, cursing Danny again for setting this up when I was running low.

"Damn, Arlo, she's got a tight little pussy. It's gonna be wrecked by the time you get to it." Oscar punctuated his statement with a dark chuckle as he took a few rough, slamming thrusts before pulling out to fuck Trixie's face. The mirror that ran the length of the wall reflected the tawdry scene if you bothered to look. Shame ate at me, because look I did, and I debated bailing and cutting my losses.

As if he’d read my thoughts, Arlo suddenly held a little tray and short straw in front of my face. The skinny white line of powder beckoned me like a siren intent on sinking a ship. I ignored the tiny voice saying maybe I'd had enough for the night and snatched the straw like the lifeline it was before expertly pinching off one nostril and instantly inhaling the drug with the other. Arlo let out a devilish laugh and took the tray away, winking one dark eye at me as he wiped up the residue with a finger and smeared it on the tip of his condom-covered dick. Without hesitation, I wrapped my lips around it, removing all traces of my vice while giving him what he wanted.

When Trixie crept her long-nailed fingers toward the crack of my ass, I pinched and twisted a spot of skin on the inside of her thigh to deter her. A yelp sounded right before a slap to the wandering hands caught part of it, but I was grateful Oscar put a stop to it. "Hands off, Hoover, I'll personally stretch that ass later." And my ass clenched as Oscar instantly lost points on the attractive scale. How much did they fucking pay for? I wasn't sure how long I could handle this shit tonight, and I'd done zero prep for anal. I cringed internally at the thought, then for real as I gagged on a particularly deep thrust from Arlo.

The men continued alternating between fucking and getting sucked, and every time Arlo pulled out of Trixie, he'd lure me to take his cock in earnest with little bits of strategically placed powder. It wasn't the same as snorting or smoking it, but the cumulative effects of those bits paired with the line began to take me to my happy place. I didn't even care that my mascara tracked down my cheeks from all the face fucking-induced tears. I just wanted to stay blissed out until the deeds were done.

My stomach still twinged occasionally under it all, but it was easy to ignore for the time being. Until the door crashed open. Muffled shots dropped Arlo and Oscar, who had both been spit roasting me at the time. My body fell, still connected with theirs, as Oscar slumped over me and to then the side. My scream was choked off as my face was crammed into Arlo's groin, teeth scraping his dick, not that he would mind now. When we hit the floor, I was able to dislodge my mouth and take in Arlo’s sightless eyes. Scrambling under the table and out from under half of Oscar's body, I saw that his eyes were just as vacant. My heart picked up double time when Trixie's scream was cut off with another pop and liquid started to trickle off the edge of the table to the floor in front of me. Directly in my line of sight was Oscar's groin, cock flaccid, the condom gone, likely dislodged in the fall.

"Get out here, bitch. If you make me come in there for you, I'll make it last." The harsh voice came from somewhere above a pair of wingtip shoes, polished to a high enough sheen that I could see my distorted reflection in them. No way was I going out there.

My dexterity and coordination were severely impaired from all the drugs, not that it would have mattered since I had nowhere to go when a hand reached under the table to jerk me out by my ankle hard enough that I slid across the floor. Briefly I saw Trixie's body still atop it, leaking blood and what I then discovered was piss.

"Fucking disgusting, man. Just shoot her and let's go deal with Danny. It reeks in here." I was too terrified to look up at the second speaker as I waited for the pain that I hoped would be brief. And then I'd join the cause of the barnyard smell of piss, shit, and blood that enveloped the room.

"No, I warned her. Better to make an example now than have to come back again." I huddled into my nakedness, crossing my arms as my teeth began to chatter.

The first voice was again closer than the second, and my chest seized as I started to hyperventilate. A hand grabbed a fistful of my hair, jerking me up to my knees, and my face was forced upward toward the irate man. Tears blurred my vision as I tried to beg for him to end it quickly.

"P-p-ple-ease," I hiccupped out past the wheezing breaths I was failing to get under control.

"Fuck, Tony, just put her out of her misery. She's a fucking junkied out mess anyway." But the man wasn't listening, instead he dragged me to my feet by his grip on my hair. My hands flew up to scratch at his in an attempt to stop him from ripping it out at the roots. I couldn't even screech because I couldn't fucking breathe.

"Tony, wait!"

My arm was seized in a second iron grip, my wrist twisted at an odd angle, putting an agonizing bind on the joints. Something was scrubbed over my face, clearing my eyes enough to recognize the features in front of me. The panicked voice I should have recognized faded as my body went rigid before starting to convulse uncontrollably. I’d barely made out, "It's Eden, Tony" before my stomach finally got its way and emptied itself as everything went black.

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