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-This is an erotic story where sex is exchanged for money. The story’s main focus is the ultimate submission through corruption. It is not meant to condemn nor endorse the character’s actions in the story
-This story is my first work of fiction that I am submitting to Literotica. It was much longer but I cut out some detail to make it easier to read. As work of fiction it is just a fantasy that I had and is not meant to be taken seriously.
-If you have any moral objections to the subject matter or if you just don’t find it erotic you would probably be better off reading something else.
“You know that this account is in R3? That’s over 90 days without a payment. Why is it that you feel like you don’t have to pay your bills?” The rude and pushy woman almost barked into the phone asking questions so quickly that no explanation was possible.
“I d-don’t know, it’s not that, it’s t-that I-I mean to pay, I will get t-the money soon, I don’t know what I can s-say.” Cynthia stumbled and fumbled with her words, truly at a loss of what to say.
“I can say that your credit is going to be completely useless, I can tell you that I’m putting another mark against your name. This is going to follow you forever!”
There was a certain amount of satisfaction in the credit agent’s voice. It was almost as if she was hoping that payment would go unremitted just so she could lay her weight into the poor girl on the other end. Like a shark smelling blood she sensed the fear in the girl on the phone and she went in for the kill. This was the part of her job she enjoyed most, yes, she actually enjoyed it. Somewhere along the way the world had treated her poorly and she wanted revenge; doling it out was her specialty.
Her words struck deep to the pit of Cynthia’s stomach and made it hard for the girl to breath. Cynthia had her entire life ahead of her, in many ways it had not even started yet. She was in her second year of university and just 20 years old. Now she was being told that whatever her life was it wasn’t going to be nice. The agent’s rant made it clear that Cynthia would never be able to buy anything that she wanted because nobody would ever trust her.
The marks against her name were getting more numerous than she liked to think about. This wasn’t the first credit agent to call her small apartment, just the meanest. They all carried a certain level of intimidation but this one was just flat out scary. At twenty years old, Cynthia didn’t know how to deal with all this, she didn’t know her options, the crisis just made her scared. She was scared to answer the phone in her own apartment; she hated hearing the voices on the other end. The sad truth was that she knew she wouldn’t even have a phone if it wasn’t for her roommate. The telephone was in her roommates name but the collectors still found her.
For all the money she spent Cynthia didn’t even have anything to show for it. The reality of the situation is that she spent the money because she was irresponsible and naive. When she lived at home she never had to budget for anything, her parents took care of the bills, gave her a place to live and even gave her spending cash when she needed. All she was expected to do was save up for school but it’s not like even that was 100% on her shoulders. Her parents paid her entire tuition and gave her a small allowance. Even Cynthia was having a hard time remembering how things got so far gone.
The entire house of cards was built on credit cards; the companies were basically giving them away everywhere she went. New found freedom and a large credit limit can be a dangerous thing and spending money without a budget is a stupid thing. The bills would have been piling up if Cynthia bothered to keep them, but she couldn’t bear to look at them so in the garbage they went. First notices, second notices…………final notices. Except for panic attacks when the phone rang or the mail arrived she mostly just tried to push the harsh reality out of her head and so the implications just got worse. Maybe if she faced it head on she could have consolidated her debts into a line of credit or find another solution; her was to just ignore it though.
Cynthia, despite her debts, was still alive to have fun, her warm personality and her down to earth good looks brought her many friends. Her naturally brassy blonde hair was swept across her forehead and often held in place with a black hair band. This was the signature of her look, anyone who met her thought she had all the cuteness of the girl next door with enough mystery in her eyes to never give the impression of being boring. She always looked up to people, not in the figurative sense but in the literal one, she was only 5’2 and weighed 100 lbs.
RING, RING, RING
The phone rang again and Cynthia froze in fear as a newly natural reaction. Her last interaction with the phone minutes early had left her trembling. Her roommate wasn’t there to filter the call so she decided to let the answering machine do her dirty work.
“Hey Cynth, you comin out canlı bahis şirketaleri tonight?” it was her friend, Kim’s voice through the machine.
Relieved and excited Cynthia picked up the phone cutting the message short. “No, no I’m here! I mean where are we going? I mean, yeah of course I’m coming out!”
Money issues or no money issues Cynthia wasn’t going to let them ruin her good time. Getting used to her new found poverty was a bit of an adjustment but one that she was making as outwardly smooth as one could make it. Being completely broke pretty much ruled out the possibility of having a boyfriend because she couldn’t be in a relationship where he paid for everything; the ground would be too uneven. This however did not mean she couldn’t go out with the girls.
Going out with the girls didn’t require as much money as maybe someone would think. As long as she had enough lying around to cover her part of the cab fare the rest was easy. If the bar had a cover a few well timed bats of her eyelashes was usually enough to side step that. Once in the bar she found that guys would buy her a drink if she was standing around without one.
Cynthia felt this was pretty harmless and she never let a boy buy her more than one drink. The reasoning was pretty simple; one drink is just safe flirting, more could be hustling. She would take her time and drink her drink and exchange flirts but she wasn’t the type to be picked up at a bar so after the first she would politely refuse the second. In her mind taking the second drink would be leading someone on and she wasn’t out to be rude or hurt feelings.
Economics like this flashed through her head but not really in a tangible way, Cynthia didn’t consciously consider the implications of this transaction. Those calculations happened on a much more intuitive, subconscious level. She didn’t think: One drink is worth a flirt, two is worth a dance, three is worth a kiss, four is worth a feel and five is worth a fuck. Still, the subconscious is a powerful thing and somewhere in her mind she was aware of it. She was aware when she put on her little dress that was sure to make her freeze in the icy cold January weather of Southern Ontario, she was aware of it when she flashed a smile across the bar; she just never consciously did the math.
Tonight it was just Cynth and Kim, the other girls had opted for the warmth and comfort of their duvet covers. The weather was particularly cold even for January but the girls were undeterred. Cynthia walked to Kim’s house, it wasn’t far away, but she would have liked to have taken a cab; being broke didn’t prevent her from going out but it sure ruined the comfort of it. It wasn’t just the weather but also the inevitable whistles from boys in passing cars at a girl in a dress walking by herself. Both she and Kim lived in a student ghetto of sorts, so she didn’t fear for her safety just that a taxi would have provided a shield from the obnoxiousness.
The same obnoxious boys were sure to be at the bar so it’s not like she could avoid them all night. Kim was really the centre of attention at social gatherings. Kim had bleached platinum blonde hair and wasted no expense in order to look a little trashy. Cynthia never understood why she attracted so many boys, yet the same qualities attracted Cynthia to Kim.
Kim was always in her own world and more or less treated Cynthia as a sidekick but there was something magnetic about her personality that made her behavior acceptable. She seemed to take everything for granted and was never in need of anything, and because of this people were always trying to provide her with things. Kim possessed many of the things that Cynthia wished she had and being close to her was a way to vicariously realize them. Kim stood 5’8″ and had a body that boys drool over and girls are jealous of. She had breasts that she liked to show off even if that required all sorts of push up material and tape. In heels she eliminated most boys from potential mates based on her policy of not dating shorter guys; even if it was just shoe height.
The other thing that Kim had that Cynthia didn’t like to admit she was jealous of was rich parents. Kim always had money and if she spent it all her bank account would be topped off again by daddy dearest. Cynthia didn’t like to admit this, because she loved her parents and all that they did for her, they didn’t have lots of money but they extended themselves to make sure she got an education. Her parents’ sacrifices were greater than Kim’s parents’ so she felt very ungrateful for even having these thoughts.
Their differences didn’t end there. Cynthia preferred the low key day to day of a single roommate but Kim lived in what could only be described as a party house. The house was rented by five girls and each brought a piece of their personality to the setting. This would have been cause for a decorator’s nightmare, but it didn’t scare off the visitors. Even on a night in for most of the tenants, various characters could be seen hanging around. Including a few familiar boys who, while dating nobody there, were nevertheless canlı kaçak iddaa regulars at the house. Kim was still getting changed when Cynthia arrived.
Cynthia was greeted with loud hellos from the inhabitants as was the custom of their age group. Everyone was always so happy to see each other at night and made of point of showing it with loud voices and big smiles; the same people during the day would elicit a much more low key response. Considering that this was night, Cynth, as she’s known in this circle, was feeling ready to accept their enthusiasm and reflect it back in her own subdued way. She didn’t want to get too comfortable, so she waited in the front hallway, which was connected to the living room and rambled sort of meaninglessly about the events of the their collective present.
“You look love-ly darrrling.” Kim announced as she entered the living room her intonation demanding the attention of the crowd.
Her compliment was directed at Cynthia but it could have just as well been about herself, as if to say you look good enough to be my sidekick. It’s not that Kim was the most exotic beauty, her face was in many ways unusual and the use of liberal make-up made it hard to distinguish as her own, but this face also projected an air of superiority that so many find irresistible. It was as if Kim never second guessed herself and therefore never made a mistake.
“Where are we going?” Cynthia asked like a trusty sidekick.
Kim, already controlling the room, answered her friend in a voice the indicated that she was bored with their destination. “The Limelight; if nothing else they know me there. Did you call a cab?”
Kim was one of those people who had money and expects everything to be done for them.
“No, I haven’t taken my shoes off yet so I didn’t have the chance, I can do it now.” Cynthia felt for a split second like she was almost making excuses to a credit agent as she trailed off.
“Don’t bother, I’ll do it, but now we’re going to have to wait.” Said the platinum blonde princess making it known that this was not really her role.
Cynthia had made sure that she brought enough money to split a cab on the way there and enough to get one back by herself if the need arose. Some of the money even jingled as she walked, it was the change she planned to use on the cab. Paper money seemed better served for other things, like maybe eating the next day, so that went into one of the many less noticeable pockets of her purse. This made her nervous; she didn’t want to be seen as poor in front of her friend, she just didn’t want to be judged by Kim in that way. Kim, who was beyond the reproach judgment herself, was never shy about speaking her mind about someone else.
The cab arrived and the girls made their way through the snow, their high hells leaving holes along the way. Kim was dressed to kill and would no doubt bring enough attention for the both of them. While Kim used hard make-up to look sheik Cynthia went for the much more natural and less expensive look. Her hair swept across her forehead almost coving her right eye and was held in place by her familiar black hair band. The hair band made her feel safe almost as if it blocked people from seeing her thoughts.
Once inside the music blasted and conversation became distinguishable mostly by the amount of head nods. Cynthia really couldn’t understand anything anyone was saying and never could; this usually resulted in her wondering why she did this almost every weekend. Maybe it was her height, maybe it was her ears but she never understood an entire sentence anyone spoke. Most of the attention went Kim’s way anyways, her presence made her feel like she was at the centre of the bar even if she wasn’t centre stage.
Kim really liked Cynthia and despite her sometimes bossy and selfish ways did consider her one of her dearest friends. Kim came to the bars to hang out with her girlfriends, so Cynthia never really got lost in the shuffle. To Kim the boys served more as decorations and points of conversation. Kim seemed to say everything she wanted in a conversation, perhaps this was because she never cared what the other person was actually saying, and maybe it was her height.
As the night wore on the girls drank and danced. Sometimes they danced with each other and sometimes with a boy who had bought them drinks, rarely taking note of even the suitor’s name. The night was carefree and served as an escape for Cynthia’s problems. It was 1 in the morning and her black hair band was making its way from its normal place at the middle of her head to the back. It was while she was adjusting it and trying to accomplish the impossible task of keeping here sweep of hair in place that a boy caught her off guard.
“I’ve seen you here before, but I’ve never said hello, I’m Gave.” The handsome young man said while looking down at a messy haired Cynthia.
For some reason she was able to hear every word he said but she thought she was mistaken about the name. “Gave? With a G?” She shouted back.
“Well it’s Gavin, but my friends call me Gave, and that’s Gave canlı kaçak bahis not Gav.”
She was right, she had heard every syllable he said. It was almost as if she could read his lips and this trend continued as he engaged her in conversation. This was perhaps the first conversation she had ever had at a bar. The way he was looking at her made her feel like she was the only person in the entire room and he was talking only to her, he paid Kim no attention.
Soon enough he was buying her a drink. Cynthia took her time drinking this one; she was totally absorbed in the conversation.
She finished her drink and he offered to buy another but throwing fiduciary caution to the wind Cynthia insisted on buying the next round. She really liked this guy and didn’t want to be on lower ground or owe him anything. Whatever transaction that was to take place it wasn’t going to involve money. Before she knew it she had blown through all of her paper money and was getting dangerously close to walking home. This reality made the next suggestion all the more acceptable.
“Do you want to get out of here? It’s going to close soon.” Gave said in the smoothest voice he could muster hoping to close the deal.
“Ok, do-ya want to take me to my place?” An excited and partially drunk Cynthia suggested.
At the coat check she explained to Kim what she was going to do. This wasn’t really in Cynthia’s character but Kim approved of her choice so she didn’t fight her too hard. Gave was very good looking, his boyish good looks seemed to clash with his manly body giving him a non-threatening charm. He dressed with a backwards red hat but didn’t look like a white rapper, more like a laid back yuppie too relaxed too turn it forward. His clothes hung loose but from the definition at the top of his t-shirt he no doubt took care of himself. Cynthia liked mostly how his straight hair had small curls that escaped his ball cap.
In the cab was the first time she actually heard his voice in full expression but her earlier impressions were not disproven. His confidence was unquestionable; he was secure in who he was and what he was doing. Most of all he gave Cynthia the feeling that even though he could have had his pick of any girl he chose her. He never even broke eye contact to look at Kim, he never felt the need to make Kim included, he was just focused on her and that was a curiosity she enjoyed.
They had to be quiet once inside, Cynthia didn’t want her roommate to be disturbed either by the noise or more importantly by the fact she had brought home a strange man. While the intention was good the execution perhaps left a little to be desired; it’s hard to shake snow off your shoes and be super quiet all at the same time even without an elevated blood alcohol level. After a little bit of shushing the seemingly natural pair made it down the narrow hallway into the small living room.
Gave made himself at home as if he had been coming there for years, he exhaled noisily as he sat back on the sofa. His vanity required no affirmation; he knew he had Cynthia around his finger. He motioned for her to come to the sofa and no words were required to tell her what to do. Any fear Cynthia may have had was calmed by alcohol and the young man’s at ease demeanor. Soon Cynthia was giving him a slow and relaxing blow job on the sofa.
She slowly and carefully moved her tongue down the shaft of his cock doing little circles with her tongue preparing to put it in her mouth. He had one hand on the back of her head and the other on her forehead slowly guiding her and controlling the pace. Once she was satisfied that she teased him enough with her tongue she carefully put the head in her mouth and tried hard not to let her teeth touch the skin. Cynthia had been a little clumsy from time to time with her last boyfriend and he was trying hard to impress Gave.
He had a nice looking penis in its straight and symmetrical quality. He was likely average in size, although Cynthia wasn’t really sure what average even was, but hard as a rock. It responded to her every loving touch and stood to attention for her pretty face. Her head was now bobbing up and down in rhythm only breaking to look around the room to make sure her roommate wasn’t interrupting.
“Look at me.” He muttered in a low groan.
Cynthia always kept her eyes closed when giving head and tried to ignore the request. It made her feel funny to look up at a boy when giving head because she felt inferior, as if she was a slave to their pleasure.
“Look at me.” The request was echoed in with greater urgency.
Instead Cynthia popped his penis out of her mouth and said “Let’s go to my bedroom.”
The power struggle ended there as the pair of strangers entered Cynthia’s most personal space: her bedroom. Once inside Gave started to undress her without any delay. He sensed that he didn’t want to give her a chance to second guess or throw up a stop sign. Quickly her dress was over her head and after a bit of fumbling was on the ground. Cynthia hadn’t had a boyfriend for a while and by this time she was literally creaming in her panties almost embarrassed by the honestly of her excitement. He laid her on her bed and looked her up and down like a trophy just about to be claimed. His clothes came off in seconds and his dick pointed straight out and strained with excitement.
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