The brothel looked very different during the day. There was no music, and the pink mood lighting had been replaced by brighter, practical LEDs, which revealed the many little imperfections that were usually carefully hidden in the shadows. Cords, plugs and wires, smoke machines, tears in the walls, chinks in the wood, suspicious stains and missing ceiling tiles, it was all visible now that no customers were here to see it. The smell of stale beer and sex was nowhere to be sniffed, and the sharp aroma of a potent floor detergent lingered in its place.

'So,' said Mr. Southerner. 'You've done this kind of thing before?'

He was sat on a red leather sofa, watching the stage with mild interest, a short, slender man with an unremarkable face and dull, brown hair. Mr. Southerner's appearance rarely drew attention, and this effect was only heightened by his grey suits, which seemed to be the only clothes he owned. Today however it was harder still to pay much attention to the pimp because of the man next to him. Mike was everything his employer wasn't: tall, athletic, his skin carefully tanned and regularly moisturised. His tight, sleeveless shirt had been well-chosen, and showed off the chiselled physique marvellously, while his jeans had to have been sown straight onto his behind, so snugly did they fit him. Mike never wore a beard, and currently his head was shaved as well making him look very youthful indeed. He too eyed the stage, although there was more passion in his eyes than in Mr. Southerner's, and unlike the older man Mike could trust he was being watched back.

'Yes,' said Rachel. 'But not before... .'

Mr. Southerner waited expectantly, but Mike rolled his eyes.

'Not before your accident,' he said.

Rachel nodded.

'I can dance, I've taken lessons,' she said. 'But I haven't tried... the other thing yet.'

'I see,' said Mr. Southerner. 'Show us a little.'

Mike pressed a button on a remote, and music began to blare from the speakers. Rachel took a deep breath. Luckily she wasn't worried about the dancing. Even on this stage, she felt almost comfortable now, performing her routine. It had taken a while to get used to this new way of moving, to her limp, useless legs and to her chair, but Rachel had managed it, and now she was twirling around on the brightly lit stage to the beat of some pop song. She had regained much of her old confidence, much of her old skill. Dancing kept her upper body fit and strong, and she was as proud of her long, blonde locks as she'd ever been. Rachel had grieved for the loss of her great bum and firm thighs, which had gone all wobbly and skinny, but she'd quickly learned to focus on those assets that remained.

She put one hand high on a dancer's pole and deftly circled it, propelling herself using only the other hand. She glanced at Mike, who nodded with appreciation. Rachel grabbed the pole with both hands and lifted herself up, chair and all, and swung around it, before hitting the stage again and seamlessly continuing her twirls.

After a while, Mr. Southerner gave Mike a signal, and the music stopped, and so did Rachel.

She was out of breath, but looked less nervous now.

'Nice,' said Mike. 'What do you think?'

'Looks good,' Mr. Southerner said to Rachel. 'You can dance all right.'

'Thanks.'

Mr. Southerner stroked his chin.

'Let me see those tits,' he said.

'Oh um, all right.'

Rachel looked down at her body. She had chosen functional, comfortable clothing for her demonstration, sneakers, leggings, a sports bra and a simple, black shirt. The outfit was hardly flattering, but she'd chosen to focus on the performance instead.

Rachel quickly took off the shirt. After her little show and the warm-up, it was quite sweaty. To her relief, the two men looked on with what looked like purely professional curiosity. She could see their eyes darting around her stomach and zeroing in on her little muffin top. She took off the bra as well, and suppressed a sigh of relief as the breasts were allowed to breathe freely again. They were natural, and just large enough to sag ever so slightly. The moderately cool air and the sweat meant that the nipples were hard almost immediately.

'Not bad,' Mr. Southerner said. 'Lift.'

Rachel felt bizarre as she took a breast in each hand, and carefully pushed them up, while the men watched with nothing more than polite interest.

'Squeeze a little.'

She did, and had to laugh. Mr. Southerner looked bewildered for a second, but Mike was smiling.

'Ah well that all looks good to me,' said Mr. Southerner.

'Thank you,' Rachel tried to look serious again.

'But we will have to make sure that you are going to be able to fulfill all of your tasks here.'

Rachel swallowed.

'Don't worry,' Mr. Southerner said, and then smiled knowingly. 'What do you think of Mike here?'

Rachel tilted her head a little. Things suddenly looked very different.

'You mean I could... we should... you know... .'

Mr. Southerner's smile became ever so slightly frustrated, and Mike's chest swelled. Neither, however, looked surprised.

'Would that be acceptable then?' Mr. Southerner asked, and rose from his sitting position.

'Sure,' said Mike simply.

'Y-yes,' said Rachel.

'Well, then I think it's time I left. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Foster. I hope you'll be working here in no time. For now, I leave you in the capable hands of my associate.'

He reached up to shake Rachel's hand. His grip was firmer than his appearance suggested, and there was something incredibly assertive about the way he'd spoken, despite his nasal voice and the low volume.

'Bye,' said Rachel.

'See you, boss,' said Mike.

Rachel reached for her things, her shirt and bra, and gathered them up into her lap.

She had dreaded this moment, put it off time and time again. Fear of it had kept her awake, caused her to despair, to think to herself as less of a woman, less of a human being. Could she still do it at all, could she still feel? And what if not? What would that mean for her life? Her future? All of this had tormented her for weeks on end, and right now but one single thought dominated her fractured mind.

Cute guy. Rachel blushed.

Mike pushed open the door to a little back-room, and held it for Rachel to wheel through.

The room was nice enough. Not anything remarkable, but it was clean, and a bed had been made for them, bright sunlight flooded in through a window. Mike closed the door again.

'Here we are. When you'll be here with a customer it's gonna be jazzed a bit, don't worry,' he explained, then pointed out the window. 'And probably not high noon.'

Rachel shrugged.

'The room's fine.'

'I thought as much,' Mike observed her carefully. 'Normally I'd have you try and seduce me, you know. Give me the whole show.'

'Normally?'

Mike nodded.

'I don't know anything about your condition, but you told my employer what you are worried about it.'

Rachel looked down, horrified at the thought of Mike pitying her fate. Fiercely she fought back against the urge to cry. She kept it in check.

To her surprise, she felt Mike's hand on her shoulder.

'Listen,' he said. 'You've been in this line of work before, and I've only heard good things about you, so I know you can do all this.'

He gestured around the room.

'What you need now isn't an evaluation of your performance, it's a simple experiment.'

Rachel looked up, and looked into Mike's eyes. They were full of sincere empathy.

'I'm sure you know that we've got a lot unique girls here, and I can tell you one thing: they've all found a way to make it work. All we have to do is find yours. Sound good?'

Rachel flung her arms around a flustered Mike, and pulled him down for a hug.

'Yes!' she said, welling up. 'Yes!'

She wiped away her tears.

'Can you get on the bed?'

Rachel laughed.

'Hey! You saw me dance, that's not what I'm worried about.'

Rachel took her limp legs into her hands, and put her feet onto the floor. She wheeled right to the edge of the bed, and pulled the brakes, then grabbed her arm rests, and pushed herself up and off the chair. With a heaving sigh, she manoeuvred herself across, and, with a little too much momentum, her bottom hit the mattress. Rachel bounced, but quickly steadied herself using her hands.

Mike smirked, and Rachel looked at her chest. She was still shirtless, and her breasts had clapped together impressively during the transfer.

'Great gimmick,' said Mike.

Rachel decided against embarrassment at this point. If she'd wanted to respond with 'oh like you're perfect,' or something similar, that notion quickly evaporated when Mike removed his own shirt, and his lean torso and gleaming abs were revealed.

'Wow,' Rachel mouthed silently.

Mike put his hands on Rachel's knees, and watched her expression.

'You've got very nice legs.'

'They used to be nicer.'

'I'm sure not everyone sees it that way.'

Rachel didn't answer.

'All right let's do this,' Mike seemed utterly relaxed. He got to work on his jeans, unzipped them, then began to peel them off slowly. He didn't look as though he was trying to be seductive, but Rachel could feel her heart pick up the pace a little.

Taking of any kind of leg wear was much easier for Rachel than putting it on. Nevertheless, she struggled a little, as she rolled her elastic leggings down her thighs, past her knees and calves. She lifted each leg in turn and pulled off socks and leggings. Mike watched her legs dangle about.

'You know,' he said. 'You can always make your customers do this sort of thing. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't mind. Might even be a turn on for some.'

Rachel raised an eyebrow.

'You'd like to play with those, would you?'

Mike didn't blush, and grinned shamelessly.

'Maybe,' he said, and shrugged.

Wearing nothing but plain panties, Rachel used her hands to pull herself further onto the bed, all the while keeping her eyes fixed on the male prostitute undressing in front of her. Mike removed his own pants in a casual off-hand manner, and Rachel suddenly felt very hot indeed.

'Oh dear,' she said, and fanned herself a little over-dramatically.

That man, she thought, was too blessed for his own good. Mike struck a pose, flexing his muscles, and laughed.

'Your clients are very lucky,' Rachel said, hoping that he wouldn't take it too seriously.

'So are you,' he said, still laughing, as though Rachel were above such things.

Mike jumped into bed, and immediately scooted closer to Rachel. He sighed with content. She felt his firm arm against her shoulder, and saw that their hips were touching.

'You'll like it here, I'm sure.'

Before Rachel had time to reply to this he began to run his perfectly pedicured foot along the length of Rachel's leg. Mike's expression suddenly turned sincere and compassionate.

'How is it?' he asked gently.

'I can't feel anything.'

She certainly couldn't feel his foot.

Mike stared at the unresponsive legs, clearly fascinated, and for the first time he hesitated.

'May I,' he asked, masking his uncertainty by affecting a gentlemanly manner.

'Go ahead.'

Mike placed a strong but soft hand on Rachel's shoulder. His grip was firm and tender at the same time, and a slight tingle went through her body. He stroked her, her shoulder, her arm, carefully and slowly, moved on to her collarbone and down, down to her breast.

A soft moan escaped Rachel's throat, and she bit her quivering lips. Could she dare to hope?

She placed her own hand on Mike's leg, and began to caress it. It was smooth like a cyclist's and she could feel the hardness of his muscles.

'I want you to relax now, all right.'

He kissed her on the cheek. His full lips were soft.

'We are in no hurry, this is all about getting to know your body again.'

He squeezed her breast, and Rachel's whole body shook. She was about to calm down when he took a nipple between two fingers.

Something deep inside of Rachel stirred.

'Looks like something is working down there,' Mike said.

'What?'

Rachel looked down. Her body had not merely reacted inwardly, and she could see her most female area, soft and wet and inviting and beyond wonderful.

'Oh Mike, look.'

They embraced, and he pulled her close, lifted her up and into his lap, and kissed her, swept up in the moment.

They were facing each other now, and Rachel steadied herself, her arms around Mike. He was stroking her again.

'So this is it?'

His hand was just above Rachel's hip.

'Y-yeah.'

'You don't feel a thing?'

'Not on my skin.'

He went further down, and grabbed her bum.

'What's it like?'

'It's like... It's like being tickled but on the inside.'

'That doesn't sound too bad.'

He put two fingers against her pubic hair.

'It's not. Not any more.'

'What about this?'

A not at all unpleasant feeling rose in Rachel's stomach area. Goose bumps formed on her arms.

'Does it tickle?'

'Don't stop.'

She looked down. Mike was rubbing her clit with the back of his fingers, her juices were flowing freely now, a natural body oil for Mike's sensual massage. She let go, and fell onto her back, landed in a bed of her silky, golden curls, smelling citrusy shampoo and sweat, and Mike continued.

'Come here.'

Without stopping he leant forward, and crawled towards her. Rachel spit into her hand, and then reached out for Mike's manhood. It responded to her touch with a twitch, and Rachel noted that he wasn't entirely engorged yet. She grasped it firmly, and was satisfied to hear his moan.

Then Mike entered her just a little further.

'Argh,' Rachel arched what she could move of her back.

'Been a while, huh?'

'No, no, no. You. I want you.'

And she pushed away his hand.

'Yes ma'am,' Mike said brightly, and puffed out his chest.

From the night stand he threw her a packaged condom.

'I would be delighted if you could assist me.'

Rachel grabbed the wrapper, but Mike's hands were back at her tits, and she had pause, as pleasure radiated from his touch. With trembling fingers she ripped open the packaging.

'Take your time,' Mike kissed, then bit into Rachel's nipple, and she moaned without restraint.

As soon as the rubber was on, Mike lowered his pelvis. Rachel tried to pull him down quicker, but he resisted easily and went at his own pace. She placed her hand on the back of his shaved head and tried to reach up to him, to kiss him, just to touch his full lips with her tongue.

The tip of Mike's member brushed her quivering vagina. She could feel all over her upper body, the pleasure and excitement, the anticipation.

A thrust.

And a kiss.

And Rachel began to lose herself.

Thrust after thrust, one wave of intense feeling after another, an explosion of sensation.

Rachel's body was more than just her torso, more than just her upper body, more even than her physical being. The pleasure swept outward was too much, too big for the little thing that she called Rachel, and it soon it was everywhere. Filled her entire world, and she bathed in it, a glorious soothing bath in pure, unadulterated bliss.

And still they were ascending, going farther and farther, reaching new heights with every thrust, and Mike took Rachel's legs, lifted them, spread them, and he entered her. Deeper and deeper. And they kissed and kissed, and Rachel, with all the strength in her arm thrust upwards, had to be part of this, had to take all of Mike. Their sweaty bodies rammed against each other again and again. More, more, she wanted more, but she could feel it. Feel her limits. They were almost there, almost at the top, she would explode. No, she didn't want this to stop, but she couldn't hold anything back, she was helpless in the violent currents of their love-making.

'Oh god! I'm gonna come! I'm gonna come!'

Mike moaned and sped up.

'Together! Come with me! Let's d- argh! Argh! Oh my god!'

It was intense and relentless, and Rachel screamed as the climax reached its zenith. She pressed herself against Mike, and the naked, sweaty figures merged, held together by the high and the rush of their explosive arrival.

Neither moved. Rachel felt as though she'd run a marathon. She couldn't stop smiling. She stretched her arms.

'What were you worried about again?'

'I'm gonna be sore,' she said. 'I won't be able to walk right for days.'

Mike laughed, then had to catch his breath.

'Look who's making jokes all of a sudden,' he reached out his hand aimlessly, and petted her head.

'So I guess we put to rest a few of your concerns?'

Rachel grabbed his hand.

'And then some.'

Rachel looked at her legs, pale and skinny and useless. Who was really okay with their body, she thought. She certainly didn't know if she was, but one thing she did know. It was a body that could be desired, a body that could be pleasured. God how it could be pleasured.

'You were right you know,' Rachel pushed herself up so she could look into Mike's eyes. 'I am going to like it here.'