Sodom business

I graduated from school with a gold medal and entered the Philological Faculty, from which I later had to leave. So how did I become a prostitute? Actually, ever since my sexual attraction began to manifest itself, I have been imagining vivid, often unusual fantasies for myself. Then, more and more often, these fantasies began to center around professional sex or prostitution. I don't know why, but I was terribly excited by the idea of making money from sex. For me, being a prostitute sounded much more tempting than being a banker or, for example, a deputy.

But let's face it for a minute. Are there any women in the world who can claim that they have never thought about how they can make money from serving customers. For me personally, such thoughts have long been my number one fantasy. I can't even tell you how many times I've jerked off at night, imagining myself as a prostitute in dirty, depraved scenes.

But ever since I started taking an online literature elective taught by a cool professor, these fantasies have become even more vivid and vivid. Prof. Peskov, who became my mentor, gave us an assignment to read several books with memoirs of one rather famous in the criminal world pimp - a Caucasian by origin. You may have heard of him and his books. They were stories from the life of a pimp and his prostitutes in Moscow, and these books just overshadowed everything in the world for me. I just lost my sense of reality because of them.

I read them in bed at night in my dorm room, but only when my roommate wasn't there so I wouldn't be disturbed. I would sit with my back against the pillows and run one hand between my legs to rub my clit while I read about all the various adventures of the pimp and his whores in Moscow. These stories excited me so much! I used to reread some paragraphs several times until I came at the description of some particularly arousing scene.

And while reading, I usually imagined myself as one of the girls, mentally transporting myself to the sexual scenes described by this wonderful Caucasian pimp.

You know, I was born and raised in Ryazan, among typical Soviet families, where everyone had only cleaning, laundry and grocery shopping on their minds. But while my friends at the institute were dreaming of marrying a banker or a TV star and going to the Mediterranean together, I was constantly fantasizing, imagining myself as a prostitute with my pimp, living in a hotel room.

I liked these books so much that I decided to write a term paper on them. I titled the paper "The Psychology of the relationship between the pimp and the prostitute in the novels...". I got an A+ on my paper and my supervisor said he really liked it so he asked me to come to his office to discuss my term paper again.

- You have a remarkably mature analysis of the characters' relationships, Varvara," my mentor said.

That's my real name, Varvara. But I ask everyone to call me Varya, especially since I started serving clients.

- Thank you, Anatoly Anatolyevich," I replied.

- You have penetrated very deeply into the thoughts of a typical prostitute, and you have understood what is really going on in her head," he continued.

My professor was a very handsome man, about fifty, so I knew for sure that he was married. But that didn't stop me from having a little crush on him. Older men can be so sexy sometimes!

- Surprisingly, I think I understand where the desire to sell my body comes from," I said.

- Yes, the conventional wisdom is that prostitutes have always practiced their profession purely out of need. As you know, the wicked are clever. A woman becomes a prostitute because she has no other choice, and so on and so forth. Of course, there is some truth in all this....

- But it doesn't explain the whole situation," I interrupted.

- It doesn't explain it at all.

- So, prostitutes, as you pointed out in your review of these books, do it for a variety of reasons, both out of necessity and out of desire," the professor went on, with a slight note of pedantry.

- Whores, Anatoly Anatolievich, not prostitutes. The word "prostitute" sounds somehow medical. I like the word "whore" better.

- Okay, whores! - he said, emphasizing the last word.

We were silent for a long time, staring at each other.

- Varvara, I hope you don't think it's rude, but I wanted to ask..." he started, when I interrupted him again.

- Call me Varya," I said.

I liked that name better, especially when I imagined myself as a prostitute.

- Okay, Varya," he continued. - I couldn't help feeling that you were imagining yourself as a prostitute, and it was so authentic that I wondered if you had any experience in that field.

My professor had a very well-developed intuition, although he was wrong about me already having experience in that area...at least back then. His guess, however, made me strangely excited.

- I know why you say that, Anatoly Anatolievich. I understand that you might have had that feeling. Although, in fact, I have absolutely no experience in this case.....

Again there was a long silence.

- At least for now.

I leaned forward and looked him straight in the eye.

- I've been thinking about getting that experience, though. Especially after reading the books you assigned us.

The silence became tense. And then Professor Peskov did something I will remember for the rest of my life. He pulled out his wallet and gave me two hundred dollars.

- Then I guess you can start gaining this experience right now," he said boldly.

- Maybe," I said, accepting both bills from him, amazed at my calm and collected demeanor. Now my fantasies of becoming a prostitute were starting to come true. And now, for the first time in my life, I was being offered money for sex. I had the opportunity to become a real, real whore!

- Hmm! Only two hundred bucks," I said, turning the papers in my hands.

- Unfortunately, that's all I have," he said.

- I guess we can work something out," I said, getting up and walking to the door to put the latch on.

- For two hundred bucks, I can take it in my mouth, Professor Peskov," I said slightly wryly. - Would that be okay with you?

- I'm fine with that," he said, grinning.

Although I had seemed calm and balanced on the outside, my heart was hammering with the speed of a jackhammer now that I suddenly realized there was no retreat.

I unbuttoned my blouse and exposed my breasts.

- This is for your visual pleasure," I said, showing him my full breasts and reaching into the fly of his pants. I pulled them down and saw that it was still soft, so I jerked it up a little to make it swell.

Then I knelt down, caught a glimpse of the professor's face, and put my lips around his cock. I was twenty years old now, and I'd taken more than one cock in my mouth, but this was the first one I'd ever sucked for money-for real, convertible dollars!

Within seconds the professor's penis was fully hard in my mouth, and a minute later his hard cock began to throb and spurt, freeing itself from its load. I swallowed every last drop, licking my lips hungrily.

- That was easy money," I said, zipping up his fly. - Maybe next time you'll make me work a little harder. And we can do something else interesting.

After he cummed, he started to look a little embarrassed and tried to look away.

- Maybe next time you can have this," I said as I lifted my skirt, pulling down my panties and showing him my pussy. - Of course, it would be a little more expensive.

I couldn't believe how quickly I was getting into character. I guess all my previous fantasies plus reading these books were paying off. Don't believe those who say you can't learn anything from books!

His eyes stared into my thick-cheeked vulva like two spotlights while I held my skirt up so he could watch. Then I sat on the edge of his desk, lifted and spread my legs so he could see my narrow, long slit even better.

- Do you like it, Professor? - I purred.

- I love it," he replied, smiling excitedly.

- Here, take it as a souvenir," I said, handing him my panties. And then I walked outside, feeling the cold breeze of the fall air under my skirt!

Professor Peskov became my first client, and for a while my only client. Just as I had fantasies about whoring that occupied all my time, he had constant dreams of using a prostitute and paying for it, despite the fact that he was a very handsome and attractive man, and could probably sleep with any student from our institute if he only wanted to. But he was paying me for it, and they would have lined up for him to fuck them for free.

He confessed to me that he'd already used the services of a lady of love. And the fact that he gave us an assignment on these books was partly due to his interest in prostitution. So when he read my work and immediately guessed that prostitution and the whores themselves interested me as much as he did, he confessed that he could not help but call me into his office and make me this audacious offer.

And the first time was followed by many more. Throughout the semester, I sucked and fucked him once a week, and he always paid me for it. One time, he offered me five hundred dollars for letting him take me in the ass. He stupidly didn't realize that I would have let him do it for a regular fee. I've always loved anal sex. I don't have to pay extra for it. Although I did learn to turn around the fact that men willingly paid extra for that special pleasure denied to them by many of their wives and mistresses. After that first time, when he squeezed his cock into my tight girl's ass, Professor Peskov did not want to do anything else. And I gladly took five hundred from him for every time he did it. Shit, I made 10,000 bucks that semester alone, and from one single client. And he, of course, gave me an "A" on the exam!

But it all came to an abrupt end when his wife found the pair of panties I gave him that first day. She hit on him and he broke down, saying he had been seeing a prostitute. She pressed him even harder and he was forced to admit that the prostitute was one of the female students, namely me! There was a huge scandal, and I was forced to go on leave. But by that time I was ready to devote myself to my true calling. I was already bored with higher education. The only education I was interested in was arithmetic, which I would need when I added up my income from the sale of my body.

I stayed in Moscow. I once read in a newspaper article about the taverns where whores and their pimps congregate. Naturally, I started going there too, and on the very first day I met "Uncle Armen," a Caucasian pimp who was a copy of a character from the books I had read.

Long story short, since I have to move on to the next story, Uncle became my pimp and I served clients for him for three years. There are often stories about pimps who abuse young sluts. Some do for sure, but not Uncle, and not with me. Besides, I was smarter and more intelligent than the average street whore. Besides, I liked having a pimp, unlike some who hated their masters.

I did a little bit of everything. I walked around Tverskaya. I worked in the pubs. I did my work in the Euro-apartments in the high-rise on Kotelnicheskaya Street that Uncle rented for me and the other five girls who worked for him. Some people would never work for a pimp, but at that stage of my career working for a pimp was part of my fantasies, triggered by the books I read at the institute. And then, he was Caucasian too, and he drove a new Merc too!

However, working as a prostitute quickly becomes exhausting. That's why a smart girl takes breaks, sometimes for a while, sometimes for good. So after three years of servicing clients, I decided to quit. My uncle took it easy, at least at first. He had a few other girls to make dough, which, by the way, I helped him recruit myself. Plus, he and I always got along great. He was a very smart guy, even though he worked in a field where mostly not-so-smart types congregate, so we quickly discovered an internal similarity. We even had conversations about philosophical and literary topics. At first glance, people thought he was just a pumped-up thug. But he wasn't like that at all. He was a player, a serious and intelligent player.

Fortunately, unlike some part-time girls, I had a great figure. I always went to the gym after school and then the institute, so I was slim and trim. Plus, nature awarded me with smooth and rounded forms, with big, full boobs and a firm, round butt. In addition, I took modern dance classes for almost five years. Therefore, having naturally lush forms and having studied dancing, combined with experience from prostitution, which gave me knowledge of what men enjoy, I could easily get a job in a striptease. It didn't pay as well as customer service, but it was enough, and life was easier.

One night, about a year after I left Uncle and stopped working as a prostitute, I went to his house to wish him a happy birthday - he was thirty. Although I was no longer working for him, I was always welcome in his havirah. I knew several of the shemars who worked for him and maintained friendships with them. I was even a mentor to some of them. Whores often hate each other, overwhelmed by anger and jealousy. But not me. I've always had a good relationship with the other prostitutes. My Uncle even once told me that I would make a good bandera, and that I should definitely try working on my own. His advice stuck in my head, and eventually it turned into a story, which I will tell soon.

I had arrived at Uncle's house just ten minutes before, and we were just beginning to celebrate when suddenly this wild scene happened. Uncle put one of his new chicks, Dunka, a bright blonde from the Ukraine, on his lap. It was immediately obvious from the way he cooed over her that she was his favorite of the new whores. Not knowing the routines of his chavirah, she naturally imagined something special about herself. I could see it in the smug expression on her face and in her demeanor, as if to say that Uncle belonged to her alone and no one else.

Suddenly the door opened and Masha burst into the room. Masha was a beautiful swarthy prostitute. Uncle and I had recruited her during a trip to the Crimea, and I was helping her learn a new profession. After I left Uncle a year ago, she took my place as my number one prostitute. Now Masha stared coldly at Uncle and Dunya, blushing slightly with anger.

- What is this goat doing here? - Masha said to Uncle, pointing at Dunya. - I thought you said she'd gone to Khokhland to visit her starving family.

- Shut your fuckin' face, Masha, and stop fuckin' around! - Dunya said, and I immediately realized that she had made a big mistake. Young and untrained whores should treat their more experienced sisters with respect, or at least pretend to.

- Who do you say "fuck" to, you backstreet cunt? - Masha hissed.

- To you! - Dunya replied in a chilling voice. - You're a cunt yourself, a cheap cunt!

I felt like the wool was going to fly.

Like a wild cat, Masha lunged at Dunya, and both of them immediately began to knead each other as hard as they could, clawing at each other and turning their dresses into rags. Uncle held his stomach and laughed as hard as he could, watching the fight between the two bitches, full of pride, like a schmear wagon, for which the purses were fighting.

Uncle and I exchanged a meaningful glance.

The two chicks were fighting so hard that soon all their clothes were tattered rags.

- Get the fuck away from me, you dirty cunt! - shrieked Dunya when Masha, who was taller and stronger than her, started to get the upper hand in the fight. That's what all young whores should be told. That an old whore will fight to the death, but will not allow herself to be defeated. That was exactly what Masha had proven now, teaching the young whore a lesson in politeness.

She managed to get Dunka on her stomach on the bed and sat on top of her while she squealed like an uncut woman trying to free herself. Then I saw that Uncle's cock was up, and he was adjusting the fly of his pants. He always got excited at the sight of chicks fighting over him. I was never interested in such nonsense, and Uncle respected my wisdom and stamina. In fact, we often enjoyed watching such scenes together, when fights broke out among the rowdy prostitutes because of him.

I don't know whether it was because of the spectacle played out in front of us by the whores, or whether the reason was Uncle's own visible excitement, but I felt a growing heat in my stomach.

So, being the honorary prostitute in his chavirah, I leaned over to Uncle, pulled down his zipper and pulled out his big, black cock, which I knew like the back of my hand.

Masha, seeing what I was doing, smiled. She didn't mind at all letting me play with Uncle for a while. After all, she knew that I was and would always be allowed to. It was the new girl, Dunka, who had pissed her off, and should have been taught that her wishes were not the most important thing in this life.

- Come on, Varya, - said Masha, looking at me with a satisfied smile. - Play with Uncle's cock. Play with it, because now I'm going to give you a little show.

Masha then leaned over to her purse and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs. Some whores carry these around for amateurs. She snapped each pair on Dunka's wrists and then fastened the other ends to the bed rail. Dunka wriggled like a pinned squirrel, but there was nothing more she could do. Masha had quickly made her realize who was the master of the house, and now she was going to teach her a cruel lesson. Besides, Masha was stronger, much stronger.

- You love Uncle's twenty-five thick, black centimeters, don't you? - Masha said to Dunya in a voice hoarse with anger and contempt. - So don't fucking move, you'll get your thick, black twenty-five centimeters, if not more!

Masha had been living at Uncle's for a while, and I knew for a fact that many of her things were still here. So now she went over to the closet, rummaged through it, and pulled out her favorite toy. Uncle and I smiled when we saw the huge, black leather dildo with a helmet for strapping on; we were both aware that Masha loved to put it on. Masha had recently begun to specialize in masochists who liked this sort of thing, and she was often asked to wear this artificial cock. Once a couple of times, Masha and I participated together in such a scene, when we took turns putting on the dildo and fucked one man in the ass until he couldn't stand it.

Now, a subdued Dunya watched as Masha strapped on her cock and triumphantly walked right in front of her. The bedridden Dunya had only to stare, and the look on her face was completely stunned as she looked at the giant leather strap-on phallus. Though you couldn't tell from her look whether she was more stunned from fear or lust and desire.

- What are you going to do with that? - Dunya asked.

- With this? What am I going to do with it? - Masha said mockingly, grinning shamelessly. - I'll tell you exactly what I'm going to do with it, bitch!

Masha stopped, stroking the leathery cock, twenty-five or more centimeters long.

- I fuck this cock in the ass with it. And I'm going to have you cumming tonight," Masha said.

Dunya's jaw nearly dropped when she heard that.

Masha then walked right up to Dunya's face, waved her leather cock in front of her eyes, and then whipped it several times across her cheeks.

- So, Dunya, you wanted to have a big, black dick tonight, didn't you? Uncle's dick. So you'll get a big, black cock, only it won't be Uncle's.

In truth, I was the one who now had Uncle's thick, black cock in my fist, which I was slowly driving up and down as we watched the promised spectacle.

- This black dick," Masha said, pointing to Uncle's cock in my fist, "is for well-mannered chicks like me and Varya. And this cock is for impudent pussies like you.

Masha slapped Dunya's face.

- Open your mouth! - she hissed.

Dunya had a slightly dorky mien on her face, as if she was beginning to like all this. Suddenly, with a change in her face, Dunya opened her lips, and Masha pushed a leather cock into her mouth that was indistinguishable from the real thing.

- See, the little bitch loves to suck a big cock," Masha said.

- Yes, and I suck it better than you ever have or ever will," Duninka said defiantly, and Masha whipped her across the face again. There was something about the look in Dunya's eyes that made me think that part of her was getting off on being slapped in the face by Masha, humiliating her, and still being cocky and sassy. I love it when sluts act like that - submissive to power on the one hand, and still remaining cocky and defiant on the other.

Now Masha reached into her purse again and pulled out a tube of Vaseline. Most prostitutes carry Vaseline with them, especially those who fuck anally, like Masha. Or like me, when I was still giving my ass to clients.

My uncle put one strong arm around me while I massaged his dick, watching the shameless action in front of us.

Masha squeezed enough Vaseline onto her fingertips and, pinning Dunka to the bed with one hand, slapped the ointment between her buns, rubbing it into her slit.

- Why don't you stop at the gate first? - Dunya asked, already in full swing.

- I fuck with this bolt only in the hollow, not in the cunt, - said Masha and looked at me and Uncle. - Come on, Varya, take care of Uncle's cock," she whispered, looking over her shoulder at us and standing behind Dunya.

And then, with one relentless, brutal thrust, she drove her big leather phallus deep into Dunya's colon. Dunya started screaming like a pig being slaughtered, but I could see she was faking it. I had already heard rumors about her. I knew that she, like most of the girls in Uncle's stable, liked to have her chimney cleaned, and often asked for it herself.

I knew that about myself. And it was even said about Dunka that she had gone a little crazy on the subject, becoming a real chocolatier. I'm a hundred percent sure that Uncle had stretched out her carriage more than once.

- What the fuck! What are you doing? - Dunya shrieked. It suddenly dawned on her that it wasn't the client who was blowing her in the ass for two hundred bucks, and it wasn't Uncle who was cleaning her pipe as her master and commander, but just another prostitute who had chained her to the bed and was now forcing her into this brutal anal intercourse.

- Have you gone completely stupid, you pussy? - said Masha. - I'm fucking you in the ass. That's what I'm doing.

I knew that Dunya was aroused by this, and part of her was aroused by the humiliation she was subjected to. Masha knew it too. Pinned to the bed, chained with both hands to the headboard and forcibly taking a huge leather cock from the older prostitute into her anus while her cat watched the whole thing, Dunya was still trying to insult Masha.

- You miserable goat! You're doing all this because you know that Uncle loves me more than you. He loves my tender, tight, young lusa, not just my ass. And your only tight spot is your ass!

None of that was true. Masha and I had talked about it, and no one could squeeze muscles like Masha. Even the clients said she had a vagina like a virgin.

I distinctly remembered Uncle helping me "bring Masha up to speed" by doing to her what she was now doing to Dunya, strapping on a big phallus and fucking her in the ass. I loved stopping by her chocolate shop at the time, and I'm sure that's when she got the taste and loved putting that strap-on toy on her. You'd be surprised at how often men ask prostitutes to do this to them. That's why a smart, self-respecting hooker always has a strap-on cock with her, and preferably several and of different sizes.

Well, anyway, Masha and Dunya quickly got into the rhythm of ugly anal intercourse. Masha was driving with all her might into Dunya's very pliable ass, and Dunya was screaming unrestrainedly, pushing her ass towards the cock, greedily taking every last centimeter of the leather dick deep into her ass. Uncle and I watched the fascinating show as if mesmerized by the lustful spectacle. His cock was so hard to the touch, like it was about to explode.

- Listen, Uncle," I said, turning to him. - Do you want me to blow you while you watch those dirty bitches?

- Who's a dirty bitch? - Masha asked jokingly, turning to me and winking with a smile. She knew that if I called her a bitch, it was only in jest.

- You, Masha, and that new prodma you're fucking in the ass," I said and then leaned over to take the dark red nub of Uncle's penis in my mouth.

Neither Masha nor Dunya had the honor of unloading on Uncle today, but I did. And then, turning my head to continue to see the spectacle, I got serious about my former pimp. After a minute, he shot a fat load into my mouth. I knew Uncle. Even though he was just a fighting man with a hard cock, I knew that after he cummed, he wouldn't be any use to me for eighteen hours. The only thing he wanted to do now was sleep. So I experienced the satisfaction that only veterans can feel, knowing that neither Dunya nor Masha would enjoy Uncle's hard cock tonight. I was the only one who got that cock!