At His Mercy

By: Evelyn Glass


As she danced around the pole, Gabby kept her mind blank. She didn’t see anything, she didn’t feel anything. Men stared at her, their mouths salivating at the sight of her nubile, sexy curves. But she didn’t even glance at them. It was all mechanical: move in, thrust forward, bend down, swing, and do it all over again. As she took off her clingy, satin bra and tossed it aside, whistles greeted her. At twenty-two years of age, Gabby was in her prime. Her firm breasts complemented her narrow, taut stomach, and shapely legs. Her blond hair whipped in the air, framing her delicate, heart-shaped face.

Men wanted her, desired her, and she was willing to oblige – as long as the pay was good.

When her turn came to an end, she sauntered over, and allowed the ogling men to tuck money in her thong.

It was a job.

And it was the only one she’d ever known.

She strolled off the stage into the back area. No fancy changing rooms in the place where she worked. Instead, torn curtains hung over the cubicles. Walking into an empty stall, she sat on the stool, waiting for her next turn.

Joseph walked in. A tall, bulky man, he elicited fear whenever he marched into a room. The long, thin scar that ran down one cheek gave him a sinister appearance, one that matched his actions. “I’ve got a hot one. He asked specifically for you,” he announced.

She stood, disinterested and resigned to her fate. Joseph was her pimp, and she doubled as the hooker and a stripper in his club. “What’s his name?”

“Lyle.” His voice vibrated with impatience. “Come on. He is waiting.”

Without making a comment, she followed. Conversing with Joseph might earn her a slap or two, and she’d learned to be careful over the years. When she reached the room, Gabby entered. Lyle sat, already half-naked, his muscled abs gleaming in the dim light. His shaggy brown hair fell over his forehead.

His eyes twinkled at the sight of her. “Hey, Gabby. How are you doing?”

Most of the men didn’t like to talk. But Lyle was one of her oldest and kindest clients. He’d often helped her out by giving her some time to sleep after they had sex. And more often than not, he left a generous tip which she pocketed without telling Joseph. She smiled, happy to see him. In this grim life, he was the only hope she ever had.

She stripped off her clothes. “I’m doing well,” she said.

Someone who was forced into prostitution at twelve years of age could never do well. Gabby’s only sin was to run away from home when she was ten. She never met her mother, as she had died during childbirth, and her father beat her on a daily basis. For a ten year old child, running away implied freedom from the constant abuse. But she never got a chance to see a better life. Joseph got hold of her, made her clean his club for two years, and put her on the official payroll when she reached maturity.

Rather than lying on the bed, she stood in front of the mirror. Lyle liked to watch when they made out. As he took off his pants, his gaze settled on her body. She didn’t give any indication that she knew he was watching. He was a little shy. She was the only one he ever hired at the club, and when they made out, he was actually gentle and sweet. Sex was just sex, but with Lyle, it was a little more than that.

He cared. And that was enough in her world.

In the mirror, she saw him walk over until he stood right behind her. Her gaze traveled to his cock that jutted outward from the dark hair that tangled around its base. She felt the stirring of excitement. Making love with Lyle was actually one of the few pleasures of her life. When he pressed his body against her, his penis nudged her hips. Tossing back her blond hair, she ran her fingers down her throat and cupped her perky, smooth breasts.

He liked it when she did this.

As expected, his tongue darted out to skim his bottom lip. Lyle’s hands covered hers. He squeezed her twin mounds. It was exciting in a strange sort of way. Gabby felt moisture gather at the lips of her pussy and tingles of desire spread out into the rest of her body. She leaned back and rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the sensations that enveloped her. His skin rubbed against her. When her arms dropped to her side, his fingers plucked at her rosy-red nipples.

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