[ Home ] [ Up ]

The One With The Prostitute

I'd left the video store at around nine o'clock and started my journey home.  I zipped my jacket up as the cool air and frosty wind attacked my body and I cupped my hands and slowly blew into them, giving slight relief to the chilling world.  As my breathing got heavier and my back ached, I had the feeling that I wasn't on top of myself anymore, A feeling that I hadn't had for the last week, so I knew the time was right.  I looked around carefully for some unsuspecting victim, until I came across a bunch of prostitutes.

The prostitutes were huddled together inside an entrance to an old rundown club and were chatting away and laughing. I noticed a young woman over to the left of the woman who was counting her money. She had a black skirt on which revealed a lovely pair of long legs and stockings which emphasized her legs even more.

As I watched the women closely, their eyes were drawn to me and they all smiled.  I Quickly averted my eyes and headed for a nearby alley, hoping to find a tramp or a dog which I could easily mame easily entertaining me for the night.

As I walked down the alley, I felt a cold hand touch my right shoulder. I could smell the cheap aroma of perfume and I could hear the murmering of the person behind me.  I turned my head slowly and looked at the hand on my shoulder. It was clearly a womans with its long fingers and I could pick up the red colour of her nail varnish from the neon light above my head which was advertising Budweiser beer.

I turned around and I was facing the prostitute which was wearing the stockings.  Her eyes were small as if she was squinting and I could see Train Track lines on her right fore arm, most probably from Heroin abuse.  Her head was swaying from side to side and she kept repeating

"Wanna Fuck"

I'd rather fuck my right hand than that dirty slapper I thought in my head, as I turned round and walked away.  The prostitute followed me, but this time she fell on me making me bite my tongue.  The taste of blood inside my mouth made me feel powerful, and the thought of death was running riot in my head.

I grabbed her hand which was as cold as me and gave it a tight sqeeze, she gave a slight squeel but it seemed as if she was liking it. I then grabbed at her face squashing it like you would a stress relief toy, her enjoyment turned to pain and she started to cry. She was that high off the drugs that the pain I was giving her wasn't affecting her as much as anyone else. Taking this in mind I took a Pen out of my pocket and jammed it into her eye

(Rushed I Know)