Nonetheless, the clients found me. I had just finished dinner when the intercom beeped, letting me know that someone was watching. It was a courtesy. It gave a worker about ten seconds before the client's camera came on to hide methers, if you were into drugs, or to get into a provocative position, if you were into tips. I didn't worry about either, though tips would have been nice. It's just that I'm no actress. Me in a provocative position was about as natural as an elephant in high heels.
The intercom opened; I heard the air on the microphone. Somewhere--in a comfortable viewing room, no doubt--some man was strangling his cock while he looked at me.
"Hi. I'm Andrew."
"Maddie," I answered, looking at the closest camera. "What can I do for you, Andrew?" It wasn't politeness. That was the script we had to follow.
"I want to watch you come."
I nearly groaned. If I managed it, Andrew would be paying for my food for the next week. Chances were, though, that he would get bored waiting for me to get there because it took me a million years. "OK," I said. I didn't sound very enthusiastic and I knew it.
I crossed the room from the tiny table for one to the tiny twin bed for one. I hadn't made it when I woke up that morning and didn't bother to straighten the sheets now. I laid down and lifted my gray shift to my waist. No underwear. What was the point when it just came off and on all day?
The intercom came on again. "I paid to use your hands."
I sighed. Of course he did. "There's a red button next to your screen," I told him. "Push it."
I knew the instant that he had. I lost all sensation in my arms from the shoulder down. Four years with the implants made the sensation less foreign but no less troubling. Andrew flexed my hand and made a fist. He ran his hands down the inside of my thighs. I was told that he could feel everything like they were his hands. And I was like some arm-less vessel waiting for the guy to get over the novelty.
He used my hands to lift my shift over my chest, exposing my breasts. He pulled on my nipples, chafing them a little. He was gentle enough that they hardened. "Very nice," he said. It was a disembodied voice over my head. I wondered if his hands felt disembodied, too.
My hands skimmed my torso, taking their time getting to the goal. I opened my legs, looking up at the camera, hoping that this would go better than it usually did. Fingers parted me.
"You're dry," Andrew said.
"There's lube on the table," I said, glancing to my left.
"I want you wet, naturally," he said. His voice had a strange command to it. Most guys who came to me were shy. I imagined pimple-faced twenty-somethings with some irregular feature: a big nose or crossed eyes. Something that made them want to watch me and not want to be seen. None of them spoke with authority.
"Open your legs wider," he ordered. I obeyed and got a strange thrill out of it. Fingers played around my vagina, penetrating me shallowly, teasing the opening. My other hand caressed me from my ass to my front and back again. When he parted me a second time, his finger was slick. At least he didn't insist on rubbing me raw.
He started a rhythmic stroke and it wasn't half bad for aim. I felt bad for the guy. If he had picked another girl, she would be calling his name already.
"How does this feel?" he asked.
"OK," I responded. There wasn't any tension in my voice. He would know I was lying if I said it was mind-blowing. The only thing worse than lying was being caught in a lie.
He teased over me for a few more minutes until he hit a thrilling spot. I made a low sound. He concentrated on that square inch of flesh and my legs opened wider.
"How about now?" he teased.
"Much better," I said breathlessly. I thought I heard his chuckle on the other end of the intercom.
While he worked the spot, he penetrated me with two fingers. This went on for a while, stoking me slowly higher and higher.
"You're flushed," his voice observed, the stroke not slowing, "but, you're quiet. Are you getting closer?"
"Yes," I gasped. My fingers moved with more purpose; I pushed sensitive flesh into them. He gave me more friction and a promising tickle started.
Suddenly, he stopped touching me and my body lost its tension. It was a damn shame though not an uncommon occurrence with me. The sad thing was that I probably could have come with this one. I looked up at the camera. "I'm sorry, Andrew. This is my fault; I'll make sure you're refunded. Or, Sarah is two rooms over and she comes if you look at her funny."
"Were you close?"
"Yes. I'm just--"
He found that perfect patch of real estate and slipped my fingers over it again, cutting me off. My body obligingly opened to the sensation: my legs straining wide, my knees trembling. The pleasure was doubled after being taken away. My back arched and I heard his chuckle again.
Then he stopped. This was an interesting development. I was frustrated and let him see it, since I sensed it was what he wanted. It was rare that a client's desire and my feelings ever lined up.
He started again and I immediately felt the promise of fruition. "Do you want to come?" he asked me, his voice uncharacteristically calm.
"Yes."
"Beg me."
It was a game I heard other girls describe. Voyeurs don't usually make such requests. But, clearly, this wasn't a typical voyeur.
"Please," I breathed. "Andrew, please."
"Please, what?"
"Please, make me come. Don't stop."
I sucked at dirty talk, too. But, I was actually aroused. The words came out of my mouth unpremeditated.
His fingers went harder and rougher. "I want to fuck you," he said.
"No," was all I could manage. I was about as turned on as a person could be but that didn't mean that I was going to go from a watch-and-touch prostitute to a full blown anything-goes prostitute.
"No?" Andrew asked. He kept working me.
"I don't...."
"I'll pay."
"That isn't something I do," I whimpered. I was so close and there was something about his desire for more that kept me aroused.
"You should. You're fucking delicious."
The complement pushed me over the edge. His touch didn't slow and I undulated against it, unable to stop my moaning. Hey, I was like anyone else: I liked to come. I just didn't get there that much. "Yes," I groaned. "Oh, God, yes."
The fingers worked me until I twitched with overstimulation. Then, sensation returned to my arms and hands with an electrical tingle. My fingers were pruney from working me. My arms were weak.
"Was that a real orgasm?" he asked me while I caught my breath.
I looked up at the camera. "Yes."
"You could fool me if you faked it, you know," Andrew said.
"I never fake it. That's why I'm so fucking poor." He laughed openly at that. I decided that I should just stick to the script. "Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, Andrew?"
"I was serious when I said that I wanted to fuck you. Can we meet?"
"I'm sorry. I don't do that."
"Not even for a hefty overpayment?"
That was an interesting development. Most voyeurs aren't well-funded. "Ask for Alice," I told him. "She'll treat you right. Block five."
"I don't want Alice."
"I'm sorry Andrew. I can't help you." I got up and hit the green button on my wall that cut him off. He now had two choices: leave me alone or pay again. It was enough to turn off the few other offers I'd had. At least I knew that I would have enough money for a meager breakfast tomorrow. I turned off my availability and rubbed my arms. If there was any other way to make a living, I would have already done it.
#
"You're distracted," Alice told me in the cafeteria.
"I'm just thinking about a creep from last night."
"A creep? You mean a client?"
"Same difference."
She rolled her eyes. "You're going to starve with that attitude."
We got up to the cash line and she put the back of her hand under the scanner. It chimed. "Anything else...Alice? You have one hundred forty-three credits remaining." She had plenty of money for eggs and pancakes.
"That's all," she said, waiting for me.
I looked down at my banana and toast; and held out my hand, hoping I had enough to pay for it. The scanner chimed and I breathed in relief. It was a lucky morning for me. Sometimes I could only afford the free coffee.
"Anything else...Maddison?" the food service computer asked me. "You have twenty-one credits remaining."
"Twenty-one?" I asked.
"Three credits deposited in your account November 21 by client Brian Downing. Twenty credits deposited in your account November 23 by client Andrew Mueller," the computer recited. I stared at it until I got pushed from behind.
"Andrew Mueller? The creep from last night?" Alice asked.
"Yeah. You're welcome, by the way. I told him to ask for you if he wants sex."
Her eyes lit up. "Thanks!"
We sat down at a steel table. Alice and I had been at the orphanage together. When she turned eighteen and got turned out of the group house, she came straight here. Legal prostitution with a promise of shelter and security. I, on the other hand, tried to go into the military. I missed the height cut-off by two inches. Jobs were only gotten through the government and they had no interest in a no-skill little nobody like me. Six months after Alice, I entered the same brothel. That had been four years ago.
You could be any kind of whore you liked here and you lived according to your popularity. I only let clients watch and I got paid accordingly: a single room with one meal a day, usually. The implants in my arms were because I couldn't make enough money to eat without them. It was pennies for a peep show but the arms gave it a bit of kink that earned me more. Alice worked on her back; she had a small apartment and a new dress every time I saw her. More than once, she had given me food.
Alice kicked me under the table. "Stop daydreaming. If they think you're done, they'll take your food."
She was right. I munched on a piece of toast.
"Still thinking about client Andrew?" Alice teased. "Try a little make-up and a dress that isn't gray."
I gave her a look. "I'm not trying to get him to come back. It was a one-time thing. He really wanted sex."
"Hopefully he'll come back for me, then." Everything was very simple for Alice.
I decided to just change the subject; it was easier. "How was your night?"
"Lovely. It was just me and Vince. He brought me platinum anal beads."
We sat around and chatted for a little while. Then, Alice went to the pool to work out and I went to the library to read. It wasn't something that would improve my desirability, but it did take me away from this place for hours at a time.
#
I was curled on my bed in my room with my book from the library when the intercom beeped. I slipped my book under my pillow before the microphone activated.
"Hello, Maddie."
I knew that voice. "Andrew. You're back."
"I couldn't stay away."
I didn't get many repeat customers. "What can I do for you tonight?"
"Let me fuck you."
"You know I don't do that."
"You don't do a lot of things: sex, blow jobs, anal--"
"Look, Andrew--"
"--let yourself get eaten out. Why would you forbid someone from eating you out?"
"Too personal," I told him. "Also, it involves touching."
"I'd like you to reconsider."
I drew a long, calming breath. "Did you ask about Alice?"
"I did. She's here right now with me. She'd say hello, but she's sucking my cock."
"Wise choice."
"Not my first choice. Take off your dress and lay on the bed."
I did as he told me to, naked and laying on my unmade bed. I watched the camera. I had this strange sensation that it was like looking into his eyes. That he was so close to the monitor watching me, his eyes would be all I saw.
"Open your legs and stroke the insides of your thighs." His voice was husky.
I obeyed, feeling a thrill at his very specific instructions. It was a thrill I didn't want to feel. I caressed my own skin and waited for him to say something else.
"When was the last time you took a cock?"
It was crude but crude was usual around here. "Four years, give or take."
"For credits?"
"No."
"Don't close your legs, Maddie. I'm imagining myself there."
The thought of being a character in his imaginings made my heart speed. I couldn't control it. "Fucking me?" I asked before I considered the words.
"Oh, yes."
I looked up at the camera. "Like this? With me on my back?"
"All sorts of ways."
"Tell me how."
His voice was velvet, even through the translation of the speaker. "Kneeling, knees spread." I mimicked what he said. "Bend over at the waist." I was vulnerably displayed.
"Like this?" I asked after a few seconds.
"Yes." There was strain in his voice.
"With my arms tied back like this?" I crossed my wrists at the small of my back.
"Over your head," he growled, his breath audible.
I stretched and spread myself. "Fuck yes," he said. Then, with his voice a little further from the microphone. "Take it, all." Then a long moan and a growling order to "Swallow."
When his breathing slowed, I rolled onto my back and looked up at the camera. "Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?"
"I could make a list."
"Good night, Andrew." I pressed the green button and got my dress off of the floor. I crawled under my covers and fell asleep naked.
#
"He's fucking gorgeous," Alice told me. "Fifty-something. Blonde. Big guy. Well dressed."
The mental image was interesting. I couldn't imagine what a well-dressed, handsome man would be doing in the voyeur block when he clearly wanted more and could pay for it. Knowing that he had been around for the last two days made me jumpy to go back my room.
"Maybe he'll be into you, now," I said to Alice. I had coffee and a bagel for breakfast. Never mind that I had fifty credits waiting in my account. The well of money could dry up at any moment. Indulging in two meager meals would be luxury enough.
