I have been desperate before, but never like this. I was barely going to squeeze by this month. There was just enough money to pay rent and utilities at the new apartment, and that didn’t count food. I knew coming to California would be expensive, but I live in a shoe box studio, work two jobs waiting tables, and still only barely survive.

Some of the other girls who lived in this building seemed to know my plight. They too came here with aspirations to become an actress, and so have plenty of people before me. Apparently there was a betting pool among the veteran tenants about how long I would last here. It’s been six months living here. I had saved quite a lot for over a year before I moved out here, and that had helped me get through it. But everything was going so wrong. I knew it would take time, but I just didn’t know it would be so expensive. 

This was the first month I didn’t have savings to supplement. I pulled together both paychecks and all my tips, and bought myself another month, but I didn't know how I could keep going. I was contemplating my struggles over a bowl of ramen, the only thing that I could afford, when Cara, one of those veterans, came over.

“I brought champagne.” She said this in a sing-songy voice as she waltzed her way into my home. “Six months was the farthest out, and I won the bet.” 

I didn’t like the idea of complete strangers betting on me becoming a failure. But I figured they went through it, they knew the struggle, and I was still here. I may not be in the market to make friends with these people, but I was in no position to turn them down either. Besides, I could use a drink. 

She poured me a glass and herself one as well. “So I see you are having a feast. I don’t know how you are going to finish it all.” She was mocking me while I downed my glass of champagne and poured another. 

“I am determined to stick it out. I don’t mind sacrifices.” I refused to be shamed.

“I see that. I respect it too.”

“I am not naive, I know it's going to take a long time before I get anything.”

“You don’t need to defend yourself to me.” Cara plopped herself down on my bed, making herself look the picture of comfort.

“Are you just here to gloat, then, about how my struggle won you money?”

“Yes actually.” She got up, put her champagne glass down on the desk, and reached into what I assumed was a knock off Louis Vuitton. She had a habit of wearing a lot of high-end designer clothing, all probably fake because, to my knowledge, we paid the same rent, and I know she hadn't booked any gigs. Not ones that pay anyway.

“I wanted to give you this.” She pulled out an envelope. I took it, opened it, and saw a couple hundred bucks. I immediately handed it back to her.

“I don’t need charity. I don’t need you to rub it in my face.”

“That’s not this, Steph. That pool was for two grand. You are the one who stuck it out. You deserve credit.” She didn’t take the envelope, she just turned, grabbed her champagne, and started looking at the pictures on my wall.

“Cara I can’t take this money.”

“Hell yeah you can. I took the money when I made it.”

“What?”

“There is always someone who bets on the underdog. Most people didn’t think I would when I came here three years ago. When i did make it, the person who bet on me, gave me part of the winnings. What is in that envelope is basically nothing when you look at the big picture. But to people like us, the underdogs, that's enough to keep our heads above water. I looked at the envelope, and she was right. In the grand scheme of things it was nothing, but it would be there like a little security blanket. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Really.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as I placed the envelope into the tip jar I keep in my refrigerator. The silence continued as I took another sip of champagne. 

“I actually came here for another reason.” Cara was looking at me now. “I came here to offer you a job.”

“What?” I read her face. Cara had this look of consideration on her face. It was the same look I had seen on every casting director at every single audition I had been on. “Do you have a pull with a studio or some company?”

“No, it isn't an acting gig. It's for the meantime, to help you get by.”

“What kind of a job?”

“There is this… social club. Very exclusive and outrageously private. It pays five hundred a night plus tips. Five hour shifts, and it is self-paced so you can pick your own shifts.”

“What’s the catch?” I scoffed at the offer. It was too good to be true. Is this some sort of brothel?” I laughed at my joke but was taken aback by her silence, as she just took another sip of champagne. “Are you seriously asking me to work in a brothel?” I practically shouted at her. The audacity of this woman to come into my home and proposition me like this. 

“It is not a brothel.” She said this with such an air of annoyance at the idea that for a moment, I thought I misunderstood. But only for a moment. “It’s more of a glorified glory hole.”

“Get out!”

“Now listen…”

“Get out!”

“Half of the women here work there. There is no shame in it. Sex work is work, you know.”

“Listen, I'll give you your money back, just go.”

“Keep the money, that has nothing to do with this.” Cara sat back down on the bed. I stared at her, completely astonished at the conversation we were having. “Just listen to what I have to say, and then I’ll leave.”

“I took my chair and positioned it across from her. If listening to her would get her out of my apartment, it would be better to get it over and done with. 

“It is a social club, like I said. Very exclusive, and very private. The people who work there are kept completely anonymous. Our protection is far more important than whoever is visiting. We get paid in cash and outside of security, who checks us in and stays on the club floor, no one sees us. We only offer what we want. But there is a limit and slots are first come, first serve. 

“Protection is enforced, and there is an outrageous number of guards on the floor. They do their jobs well. Payments are guaranteed, because one unhappy girl or guy or whatever, could ruin the whole thing. There is a doctor on staff just in case, but only a client has had to use him. I once saw a guard rough up a client for slipping off a condom.”

“I thought you said it was anonymous. How did you see?”

“Our identity is anonymous, there isn't. You want to find out more, you will have to join.”

It was the most outlandish thing I had heard. A glory hole proposition. Did I come off as desperate? “Well I heard you out. It’s time to go.”

Cara got up, fished around in her bag, and pulled out a card. “There is my unit number, and that is my cell. When you are ready, come see me or give me a call.”

“I’m not doing this.” I refused to take the card so she threw it on the bed.

“If you work there for a month, you will make rent for a month, more with tips. If you work there for a month, you will be set up for a few months.”

“I am not a prostitute.” I was trying very hard to make it clear that this was not for me.

“Who said that you would be a prostitute? It’s a social club. You would be the entertainment. Doesn’t mean quite your day job, not both of them anyway. You can still go to auditions, you can still be an actress. And you can just stop showing up anytime you want. There is no contract, no blackmail. They don’t keep a record of who you are or hunt you down.”

“I can make it the right way.”

“What is the right way?” She snapped, suddenly angry at me. “The reason this place is so expensive is because the big wigs made it that way. They set the rent, they set the wages, and they make the jobs so hard to get so they can keep their heads in the clouds and our heads on the ground so they can walk all over us without dirtying their precious feet.” She was almost yelling at me. I just stood there, shocked. “There is no right way. So if they are going to risk their reputation and spend their money like idiots, why can’t we be the ones who benefit?”

She walked over to my bowl of noodles with a look of disgust on her face. “They work half as hard as you, and will still eat a meal that is worth a hundred times more than this.” She turned to me then. “Do not turn up your nose at the chance to take advantage of their vices, and even out the playing field. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

She walked out of my apartment, head held high, no sense of shame, with confidence I could only dream of having. I called her a week later.

I didn’t know what to wear on my first night out. I know I am generally attractive. Blonde blue eyes, relatively thin. I was a little short, but this was not a date, it was work. When Cara came to pick me up I was surprised at her attire. I had dressed up a bit for the evening. A small clutch, light makeup, high heels, little black dress. She had a backpack, hoodie, sweatpants and a pair of sandals. Her hair was in a braid and she had no makeup. 

“No one is going to see, no one cares what you look like.” She was telling me this on the drive there. "Sure, there are some spots where they catch a glimpse of your hands, so maybe get your nails done. Or if you are sucking a guy off, keep applying lipstick, so they get off on seeing it come off on the condom.” 

I may not be a prude, but I had never heard someone talk so plainly about sex. Not just sex, but strategy. She went on about making it seem like I enjoyed it. They may never see my face, but apparently they will tip better if they think they did a good job. I honestly could not believe that I could enjoy being used like this, or even pretend.

This club, so to speak, wasn’t in the main part of LA. It seemed to work out of one of those far off giant Hollywood mansions. The ones that were built by old Hollywood, and new Hollywood didn’t know what to do with. There was a secluded parking area in the back, far from view of the house. There was an air of danger walking in the dark up to this strange house. It was quelled, though, by Cara’s cool demeanor. She took me down a staircase that obviously lead to the basement.

“Listen, check in is done individually. You might see people in line, but don’t engage. This is all about anonymity; remember that. I’ll go in first, tell him that the girl behind me is new. Give it a minute then, knock and they will take you in. You will get a private guardian and he will walk you through the basics.” Cara knocked and was granted entry.

I heard a noise at the top of the stairs and turned to look out of instinct, immediately forgetting about not engaging. There were a couple of women coming down, and a man as well. I turned away. It always astonished me to remember that men can be hookers too. He must be here for the women, or the men. Either, I guess. After a moment, I knocked on the door, unsure if I had given it enough time. I just couldn’t bare to be outside with these strangers anymore. The door opened and I walked in.

“You’re new, correct?” There were two guards there dressed in black t-shirts, and black jeans.

“Yes.” I felt like running. I knew I was safe, but I suddenly realized what I was about to do and I was terrified.

“This way, please.” The taller of the two guards started walking, I followed. He was a black man, stocky, bearded, and he looked like he could rip a man in half if he were angry enough. That was comforting.

“In here,” he said, opening the small door to a closet sized office.

“Anonymity is the first rule of this social club. The second is protection, all protection. All entertainers are paid half now and half after your shift. Pay is fairly adjusted if, for any reason, you need to leave early. You can leave anytime you wish. You can also stop during a visit with a client. There is an alert button that alerts both the client and security if you need to do so.”

“Any and all tips you receive are yours to keep. It is your responsibility to collect your tips from the booth. Regardless of your preferences or that of the client, condoms are a non-negotiable requirement. If you have a latex allergy, say so now, so we can provide you with a hypoallergenic prophylactic and lubricant. This will also be shared with security so no mistakes occur. Do you have any allergies?”

“No.” He had been standing there this whole time, spouting policy like he worked at a fast food restaurant and I was a new hire. 

“There is no contract, there is no welcome packet. Your guarantee of payment and protection comes from circumstance. This club trusts you with the knowledge of what we do here, and in exchange for keeping that trust, we will do right by you. Can you agree to these terms?” He held out his hand and I realized all of this would be handled over a handshake. An honorable agreement between a hooker and her pimp. I took his hand and sealed my fate. For one night or a thousand, I was a prostitute.

“Here is your first half.” He handed me a small envelope with what I assumed was 250 dollars. “Now our regular slots are pretty full but we keep special slots open for newcomers. So you can start in any position.”

“Position?”

“Yes. So after your shift, you can come back and schedule another day and reserve a spot, or you can drop by and take what is available. Today you can choose from any category.”
“What are the categories?”

“Standard one is exclusively hand jobs. That is popular for newbies. Then there are blowjobs, vaginal only, anal only, both. Then for higher pay, you can don the shroud. It is a full body costume. It will cover everything but breasts, genitals, hands, feet, nose and mouth. It will still be anonymous, and you will have a private room and a bed. There will, of course, be a guard posted in the room for protection. It is also only one client at a time.”

“No. Not that one.” I didn’t care how much it paid, I could not bring myself to put on a gimp suit. 

“What then?”

I honestly hadn’t thought about it. When you think of a glory hole, you think of blow jobs, and hand jobs. I never liked giving head. Not to mention the thought of actually seeing how many cocks I would be dealing with tonight, made me dizzy. “Vaginal.” It popped out so quickly. I guess part of my mind thought that the most intimate, true form of sex, was the safest. 

“Okay then.” The guard opened the door to look into the hall. After a moment, he ushered me out and down the hall to a private booth. In this small room, there was a cushioned bench, a small chair in the corner, hangers and hooks on the wall. The hole was the wall level with the bench. There was a curtain, it was black. “There is a drawstring on the veil, so that you can place your legs through or just your ass. Take your time and adjust things how you need them. If they tip, it'll come through this little slot, into this jar. The bench is adjustable. Here is the lever. A lot of women strap up the veil and keep their legs on this side, and just shove their pussy out.”

The blunt way he was speaking about this was shocking. But I gather he had seen enough of this not to care. He was desensitized to it.

“Here behind you is the remote. You should be able to reach it from the bench.” I moved aside to see. “It is for the cctv.” He pointed up and there it was, a TV above the bench. “Sometimes it helps the entertainers get horny, to make it easier. You can see the floor, You cannot see the other entertainers, but you can see the clients in action. He flicked it on and there was a fuzzy view of the floor. As he flicked through the channels, showing different areas of the empty floor, I was able to see the holes. I could see people getting ready. Legs, asses, pussy, cock, a live feed of the floor.”

“I thought it was supposed to be anonymous?”

“It is for you. It isn't recording either. We have one Guard for every two entertainers on the floor. This is an extra set of eyes in the security booth. No reason you can’t be in on it. We are on your side. Clients will start coming down in fifteen minutes. Have a nice night.” 

He left, and here I was standing in a glory hole. I couldn’t tell if I was excited or scared close to pissing myself.

“You are here, you took the money, just do it.”

I turned off the TV and stripped naked. I hung my dress and panties. Then I decided to lift the bench to a seated position. I opened the veil, there were little velcro strips meant to hold the fabric, and soon the hole was open. The glory hole. Holy shit what was I doing. Before I could run screaming from the booth, straddled the bench and stuck my ass out the hole. I was desperately trying to forget that there were people out there that had a perfect view of my shaved pussy and exposed asshole. I had to adjust my legs on the wall and the position of the bench until I was comfortable.

Soon enough, I was all set, facing a white wall, behind which would stand any number of people as they fucked me. Panic set in as I stared down at the part of my body that I could not see, that was shoved through a hole in the wall, that I intended to allow complete strangers the opportunity to pay me in order to violate my body. This was too much, I had gone too far.

Just as panic got the better of my senses, and as I made the move to get up, I felt it. A hand, delicately caressing me. It was already happening, so I stayed put. I closed my eyes as I felt the stranger touch me, exploring the folds of my pussy. He found my clit and began to make small circular motions. I was far too nervous for that to do anything for me. They ventured downward, slowly putting a single finger inside me. I felt as each knuckle slowly but surely invaded me, until his finger had bottomed at and began wiggling around in an attempt to arouse me. 

I felt as they slowly withdrew from me, and jumped a little as I felt cold droplets, lube I assume, fall on me. Slowly, they began to caress me again, spreading the lube all around. They began making more tiny circles around my clit, sliding their fingers back inside me, looking for a way to pleasure me to get me ready for them. I felt as they added a second finger, and applied more pressure to my clit with their thumb. This constant and deliberate stimulation would eventually allow me to feel something. My breathing began to quicken, as deep down I began to feel the tiniest inkling of pleasure. It was marred by the reality of the situation, but it was there, and it did help.

But before long, the fingers were gone abruptly. My eyes flew open, staring at the blank wall as I felt the head of cock, with an unknown owner, bottomed out inside me. I hadn’t been with a man in almost a year, so I was definitely not prepared to be fucked so suddenly. But what was it to him? I was just a hole in the wall. So the relentless onslaught of nonstop pounding from what I assumed to be an average sized cock, carried on.

I panted and held onto the bench for dear life as the this sudden, rapid fire fuck continued. Slowly, some pleasure began to build back up. It was sexy to be fucked by a mystery man. For someone to be so aroused by me, to want me so badly that he fucked me with no regard.

I began to moan as I talked myself into feeling sexy, feeling wanted. I ignored the transaction and business of it all. I could feel him react to hearing me. I could hear him moan as well. He was so aroused, and so enamored. He picked up the pace, pounding harder and harder, the sound of his balls smacking my ass cheeks was music to my ears. I imagined a tall handsome stranger giving his all fucking me like i was the best pussy he ever had. 

Then, with one final thrust, I felt his cock as he came. The abrupt end, when I was personally far from it, brought me back down to earth. He pumped his cock a few more times before he pulled out, and then a fifty dollar bill fell into the tip jar. That was it, it was done. I didn’t know what I was expecting. I wasn't expecting to enjoy it, but I guess that was just a perk. Though I didn’t have much time to think about it.

“Oh fuck!” I exclaimed as another cock slammed into me.

“Damn straight.” That was the muffled response to my reaction.

I kept making such declarations, much to his excitement. They were not a show, much as he enjoyed it, but a guttural reaction to the sheer size of this cock. In addition to being completely unprepared for penetration, I was also shocked at how deep this cock was going. I was certain that permanent damage was being done to my cervix. Soon this painful assault was able to give way to some pleasure, allowing moans of pain to turn to cries of genuine enjoyment. All of the sounds I made seemed to give this guy a thrill, so I made no attempt to keep them to myself. 

I leaned my head back, watching my gaping reflection in the turned off tv, allowing myself to be aroused at the sight of my bouncing tits, and sweaty body, as this stranger fucked me so deep. This one lasted far longer than the first, and liked to slap my ass every once and a while. But soon enough he too made one final thrust of his long john into me. I was certain if he hadn’t been wearing rubber, he would have deposited his load right into my uterus. 

I looked at my watch. I had serviced two men in a little over an hour. Both had tipped, and both, in a way, had managed to get me off a little. Again I didn’t have much time to think it over. I jolted at the sudden feeling of a tongue diving into my pussy. Of all things I had not been expecting, that was on the top of the list. For the first time, I wished that there was no wall, so I could pull their head further into me. 

“Oh yes!” was my instinctual reaction as fingers replaced the tongue, and lips encircled my clit, and began to suck. Try as I might, I could not push my pussy further through the wall. I lost all sense of propriety. As I yelled at the feel of suction, constant and overpowering, as fingers expertly massaged my g spot. 

“I’m cumming!” I shouted this and no sooner that I did, my release came and my pussy clenched down hard on their fingers, spasming out of control. Then fingers, and that beautiful tongue were immediately replaced with a cock, and as I came I endured another round of pussy pounding. I was so sensitive, so aroused that another orgasm came while I was being fucked nonstop. I was loud and unruly, wishing I could be more of an active participant, nearly forgetting I was a hired fuck. That memory brought on another orgasm as acceptance of my situation washed over my body. 

He began fingering my clit as he fucked me. This brought on another orgasm, and when I came, he came. He let out a loud guttural growl of satisfaction as he pumped his cock into me. I felt a shiver run through me as my pussy was exposed to cool air, and another as I saw another tip fall into the jar. 

It was empowering to feel so much pleasure, to give so much pleasure. For it to be worth something. I could still feel my pussy twitching as I waited for another client to come and take what they paid for. I had a bit of a reprieve, a moment of worry as well when I wasn't chosen immediately. Then I remembered that I would get paid either way. So I decided to enjoy my break, and as I did, I heard the sounds of other entertainers and clients alike. They were enjoying the night for what it was. I decided I would definitely join them in that pleasure, as I felt my next client line up to take their turn.