New city, new me

My name is Rebecca and I am going to tell you the story of my independence and how I managed to escalate the social ladder and succeed in a new city, away from everything I knew. Coming from a small town, I never expected to have such experiences in a city, or that people even did what I have seen they do in this place. Regardless, I learned all about this new lifestyle and have adhered myself to the new rules in my life.

I have always wanted to leave my little town behind, get away from my abusive family and start anew. I was tired of the same routine, the same faces, the same pain and so I decided to start saving to be able to move out and live on my own. This is how I moved to the city, after saving for a little over a year. I had enough to rent a small but comfortable apartment, pay rent and buy some food for at least 4 months. I was set softly on the bed of reality, but I knew I needed to start making money as soon as possible to be even more secure in my new life.

As a fresh face in the city, people really did not know me. This was both good and bad. A new face means I can be a new person, but a fresh, unknown face is not as charming to people looking for others to hire for their businesses. And so I had to begin somewhere not so fashionable, maybe my parents would not approve of this but I do not care. I’m off to fend for myself and I do not ask for my parent’s opinion on my actions anymore.

I was hired as a bartender in a brothel. Of course, my uniform was excessively revealing and I would need to be cutesy and seductive for our clients, of which we receive both men and women. The payment was nice and, adding the tips, I made some good stuff. The bar was the calmest area of the brothel, though, which was run by illegal Russian mobs. I admire them though, because even if they are here illegally and kill people and manage illegal money, they treat all their girls with respect and do not use underage entertainers. This was the only brothel that I found was decent about this.

The first few weeks my job was normal, very laid back. I got to know a few of the girls who worked there and the common clients, and before long, the brothel began to feel like a second home to me. With the money I made, I began to upgrade my apartment with more luxurious furniture and better food. Of course, sometimes I would have to deal with problematic customers who wanted to touch me. This began to be more constant so my bosses thought it would be a good idea to get me be part of the dancers. I agreed, mostly because the paycheck was much bigger.

And so i began my true job as an exotic dancer. It was pretty simple at first and I got better tips from the audience, and all my clients were handsome men. Turns out, the gross men from the bar cannot afford a dancer from this brothel so they want to get away with the closer to reach girls. I felt pretty happy in my job and I never saw anything wrong with it; I could quit anytime if I wanted to.

Then things started to change when I noticed my boss’ behavior. The girls in the boudoir would only share rumours, but when the boss was mentioned they stayed silent. However, this was different now. They all spoke about him and said he liked me. I have never talked much to him, however, so I do not really know him that much. But, he started to get close to me however he could.

One night in my room before leaving to my apartment, he came in and locked the door. He requested to me that I sucked his cock, his strong russian accent making him seem intimidating. I think this man did not really know how to treat others, maybe he was just cold blooded and shy. I accepted to please him, mostly because I was afraid of what he may do if I declined to do it. I bent down before him, took out his large cock out of his pants, which was hard already, and began to suck on it slowly. He caressed my hair softly and ran his fingers through my ears and neck as I went up and down his shaft.

After a bit, I just relaxed myself and continued to suck him naturally and sensually. He seemed to be really pleased, and mumbled things I could not understand, probably in russian. Eventually, he let out a huge load in my mouth then after swallowing it, he gave me a napkin he took out his pocket so I could clean myself. He helped me up and then walked with me out of the brothel. It was rare to see him out.

He asked me if I had a ride, then the moment he noticed I was shy to answer offered to drive me. I was starting to believe that the rumors were true and he did like me, but I did not want to head jump into it. After all, he was a Russian mob boss who had to take care of his ass anywhere he went. Our car ride was short and silent, his driving was exceptionally good.

When in my apartment, I served myself a glass of wine and jumped into bed. It was 3 a.m already. I slowly began to finger myself as I thought of the boss’ large cock, and I wish he had fucked me back when we were in my room in the brothel. I think he owes me that. Of course, I would not tell him this. He, as my boss, doesn’t own me anything.

My vagina got wet within moments, my fingers already soaked in my juices. I put them in my mouth to taste my insides indirectly, then continued until I fell asleep. I woke up at midday, naked with my legs spread open in my bed. I had to get ready for my day so I got out of bed and got dressed. The day went by fast, probably because I woke up so late, and I had to go back to the brothel. This time, my boss seemed to be waiting for me near the brothel’s entrance. He was never really there but today he was.

Eventually, our late night dates began to become more recurrent and steamy. For the record, yes, he fucked me just like I wanted him too. Eventually, he took me out of the dance scenario and made me his side chick. I was only for him, and everybody else in the brothel regardless of their position had to respect me. I was suddenly and indirectly a boss in the brothel as well, and I must admit the other girls seemed to be jealous.

I never had strong feelings for the boss, but he really did like me. I do not like to think of it this way, but I may have stayed with him for his money and power. He was also a really good fuck, and treated me like a proper gentleman. It’s like I was living in a gangster movie, but we all know how that ends.

One night, we were fucking in his apartment when something unexpected happened. He was over me, thrusting his cock inside my tight pussy, when suddenly someone broke into the apartment. Apparently, it was men who were sent by one of the boss’ enemies to hunt him and kill him. They opened fire at the boss, killing him on his bed right beside me. Somehow, I survived the trial. The brothel was left in charge of the boss’ right hand man, and I was left with a big part of his fortune.

Yes, I went from a country girl to a bartender to a prostitute to a side chick, and yes I became rich along the way.bi did have a lot of sex and recklessness and I was not the best for my boyfriend, but I was in charge of my life. And no one would be able to change that.