High School Whore House (New Writers Welcome)

(OOC -- I am very aware of the age rules in Literotica, so please refer to Nate's profile before you faint in dismay at the below introduction of my newest character.)



Nathan Briggs; "The 8 Ball" game room:


Harmon Turrell curled a finger invitingly to a man standing so tightly in a corner of the pool room as to nearly fade into the dark-stained hardwood paneling. The man cast his gaze about -- there were people all about, at the pool tables, dart boards, and shuffle board table -- but none were showing him any care or concern.

Guiding the man down the long hall, past the bathrooms, storage rooms, and card rooms, Harmon asked with a firm, heavily-accented tone, "You understand the conditions ... and the result of not following them, yes?"

The man nodded, then seeing the Owner-Operator of "The 8 Ball" look back at the lack of a verbal answer, answered tentatively, "Yes ... I understand ... both, all." They stopped before a locked door, and Harmon took a moment to look up and down the passage; the two men were alone. He looked to the man with an expectant expression, then held out his hand, opened palm up.

"Oh!" the other said, repeating Harmon's search of the hallway for prying eyes before reaching deep into his pocket and pulling out a wad of bills. He pulled away a hundred dollar bill and offered it out.

Harmon lowered his hand and cocked his head, responding with a heavily sarcastic tone, "Really?"

The man was taken aback for a moment, but then became defensive as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I can get a blow job out on 12th Avenue for fifty bucks."

Harmon's mouth spread in a toothy grin. He opened the door wide, his eyes never leaving the "John", who looked inside ... his eyes widening and his mouth opening as he looked in on the boy waiting inside the nearly empty, non-descript room; his hands were sunk deep into his jean pockets, exposing the waist band of his dark boxers, and upon seeing the men at the opening door, he cast his eyes downward and, as if pre-ordered to do so, stripped his already unbuttoned shirt from his shoulders and let it drop to the floor beside him.

Harmon pulled the door closed again, explaining with confidence, "But on the street, can you get a 16 year old virgin who doesn't understand that long shot means not likely to win. He owes me a grand, and he has no other way to pay me."

"A grand?" the man spat out.

Harmon threw his hands up in a whoa gesture. "Relax. I'm selling him out for a hundred bucks a fuck ... but his virginity--" He spread the fingers of one hand, reaching back to the door with the other. "--will cost you five."

The man hesitated, glancing down at his money again. Harmon feared he was losing the man and opened the door, revealing Nate once again. The man stared hungrily at the boy, then counted off five bills and offered them to the part-time pimp.

Harmon snatched the bills, and headed away, saying, "Remember the conditions, my friend ... and enjoy."

The man checked the hallway again, then entered the room. He tried to smile to the boy but his mind was already enveloped with the images of things to come.

Nate did smile, a slight, nervous expression, asking, "He told you the conditions, no? Don't hurt me ... slow down if I ask you to ... I leave the room looking as I came in ... which means no bruises."

The man locked the door behind him, moving slowly forward as he answered, "Yeah, yeah ... I know."

Nate remained where he was, hands still shoved deep into his pockets. "I ... I'm not sure ... what do we do now...? What's your name? I'm Nathan."

The man looked about the room, finding a twin bed mattress, topped with basic bedding and a handful of pillows, laid out atop wooden crates in one corner. He walked to the bed and began working at the front of his pants hurriedly. "Come over here."

Nathan hesitated, then complied. He reached the man just as his pants and boxers fell away to the floor, revealing his hairy crotch and already solid penis. The man tossed a couple of pillows onto the floor before him and sat down, pointing to the pillows and ordering, "Get down there."

Nate hesitated again, confiding, "I've never done this. You'll tell me what to--"

The man gestured him down with anxious annoyance, "Yeah, yeah ... just ... get on your knees."

Nate did as he was told, positioning the pillows for comfort, then moving in closer between the man's parted thighs. As the man directed him -- what to do with his hands, his mouth ... how to handle penis and balls, speed and depth and direction and grip -- Nate began pleasuring him, his movements tentative at first but showing learning as the seconds, moments, and minutes passed.

The "John" was beginning to move with Nate, to work with Nate; his hips shifted to and fro, and first one hand, then the other encouraged the boy to take in more and more of his dick's length. Nate gagged several times -- usually when the man pushed more of his bulk into him -- but as the "John's" moans of pleasure heightened toward ecstasy, Nate seemed to handle the intrusive piece of meat with skill.

Nate pulled away from him, grasping the man's moistened shaft and beating it up and down as he asked, "Are you going to cum in my mouth...?"

"Christ almighty!" the man said, grasping at the boy's hair to pull his head back to his crotch. "Get back to it! I'm not paying you to talk!"

Nate returned to his work, and after a moment was taking nearly all of the man's length through his lips in long gulps that were speeding in frequency. As he heard the man's moans suddenly rising, he prepared; he pulled back a bit and again grasped the man's dick with a firm hand, matching its movements to his mouth. The man came with a long, loud groan; his dick jerked within Nate's mouth, its warm, thick, sticky ejaculate seeming as if it instantly filled the boy's mouth. Nate pulled back farther, beginning to quickly and firmly pump the man's shaft, spray after spray of cum filling his mouth. Nate grimaced -- as much as he could with a man's penis shoved into his face -- at the taste of the man's discharge; it was a foul, salty taste that some claimed to enjoy but which Nate knew he would never prefer to the taste of a fresh, clean pussy.

Nate continued to pump the man's penis until finally the last twitching of its muscles had died away. He pulled it from his mouth, continuing to stroke its full length as he watched the man, now collapsed back onto the bed, panted in deep ecstasy. Nate knew they'd end up here at the bed, knew how it would end -- at least, this part -- and had been ready; he reached into a slight gap of one of the crates upon which the bed had been constructed and pulled out an opened container of baby wipes. As the man came down off his mountain of euphoria, Nate went to work wiping the man's discharge from his hands and lips, then pulled out a bottle of water and rinsed his mouth of the foul taste.

He'd finished just as the man, still laid back, commanded, "Take off your clothes."

This, too, Nate had expected. It wasn't often that his male customers were so satisfied with his blow jobs, despite his expertise at them, that they forgot they'd paid to fuck him, too. A short moment later, Nate was on his back, the man's hands holding his knees up high as he pushed his well-lubricated dick at Nate's well-practiced anus. Nate put on a good show -- grimacing in feigned pain and begging the man to be gentle -- but compared to taking a man's cum into his mouth, this was easy.

The "John" pounded away, his gaze shifting repeatedly from watching his penis penetrating the boy and watching for the boy's reaction to losing his virginity. And the whole while, the man couldn't stop talking, asking Nate if it felt good, if it felt like he thought it would, did it make him want men only, did it make him want to cum. Just for show, Nate moaned and cried, even nervously grasped his own penis as if wanting to orgasm, too, then releasing it quickly as if shamed to be holding his own dick.

The man finally exploded again, letting out an exertion-motivated groan that echoed off the nearly empty room's walls. As he slumped back onto his haunches, regaining control, he reached out and grasped Nate's semi-hardened penis. He began stroking it roughly, demanding, "Cum for me, boy."

Nate disliked this part almost as much as the blow job. He tried to fend off the man's desire to see him pleasured, saying, "I'm here to make you cum."

The man ignored Nate, continuing to pump him, grabbing the bottle of lube and commanding Nate to dispense it to his dick this time. Nate did so, and soon the man was pumping him fiercely, backing off a bit at Nate's requests for a gentle touch, then returning to his rapid, tight gripped pounding of him once more.

Nate knew there was no way out of this; he resigned himself to his fate and relaxing back into the pillows, tried to imagine he was getting beat off by someone other than this foul man. He pictured girls from school, women from his neighborhood, even a couple of his mother's bridge partners.

But ultimately, he settled on a fantasy of being professionally serviced by Jessica Woodridge and Jin Shou, a pair of friends from Harrison High. It was a safe fantasy for him, one that wouldn't leave him standing in the school hallways with a boner if either or both of the girls should happen to parade by in sexy or revealing clothing. Nate wouldn't be fucking either one of the two girls because they solved their financial problems the same way he did, by offering their bodies and services to those with cash in hand.

After a moment, Nate could feel the pleasure beginning to build down low and worked the fantasy to achieve an end to this voluntary violation. He pictured himself atop a counter in Home-Ec, with Jessica at between his thighs working the handle end of a utensil up his ass and a second one up under the hem of her own short skirt; Jin was above him in a 69, his dick fully down her throat and his mouth full of her swollen, cherry-flavored pussy ...

... until finally all screamed in simultaneous orgasm -- or, at least, Nate's dick finally erupted, cum splashing upon his sculpted belly and between the man's still-pumping fingers.

"Good, good," the man laughed, pleased with himself. "Now, you're a man's man ... you'll never want anyone but a man..."

The man's ravings -- which Nate ignored, first as his head swirled in ecstasy, then later as he simply tried to imagine the man as a mute -- continued on, until finally Nate managed to urge the man out of his ass and away from him totally. Nate pulled several wipes from the container and handed them to the man, saying, "I'm going to clean up, but I'll be right back."

Nate grabbed his clothes and headed for the nearest door, explaining, "Just gonna use the bathroom."

The door opened to a dark room -- not the bathroom, but another storage room -- in which Nate quickly wiped his ass and his belly as well as he could, donned his clothes quickly, and got the hell out of Dodge.

((OOC: Feel free to check out John's Profile if you'd like to read John's background))



John Shepard; inside Harrison High School, early Thursday morning
(Second day of the RP, after Jake and Jessica's "encounter".)



Walking down the crowded main hallway and making his way towards his first class of the day, John Shepard once again told himself never to accept a major role in a blockbuster film.

It must have been the thousandth time he told himself that.

He could barely stand the way people covertly followed him around, as if he couldn’t feel their eyes locked upon him, or like he didn’t notice their phones snapping photos of him from their seats in the upper-level bleachers while he was in gym class. It wasn’t like he was being chased around by hordes of fans, however. There was only a small group of girls – and he had recently added a pair of guys as well – that he felt he ought to take restraining orders out against.

To think that his roles in those well-received independent films would cause him to gain a gaggle of wanna-be paparazzi reporters… he had trouble believing it. It seemed as though people would do anything to get their foot in the door of Hollywood these days. He felt like the only one that, instead of dreaming of Hollywood, had his hands planted firmly upon that same door, trying instead to keep it shut. He thought he had been pretty successful thus far, having turned down a few requests to audition for minor roles in some big-name movies.

He couldn’t imagine dealing with the infinitely-more-aggressive paparazzi of Hollywood. He knew that he would end up like the many humiliated, washed-up, drug-addicted super-stars of yesterday who had partied hard one time too many, or who had sought drugs to escape from the stress and anxiety of having their every move recorded and reported.

He used to ask himself what the purpose of dealing with all of it was. Was it just for the money? For the fame? For the women?

“Definitely for the women,” he chuckled to himself. He instantly regretted it a moment later.

A voice from among the mass of students milling about the hallway called out his name. He knew exactly who the voice belonged to, and consequently pretended not to hear it. She sounded far enough away from him that he had a chance to lose her in the shoulder-to-shoulder traffic.

“John!” she called again, much closer than before. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to get through the crowd that surrounded him, not with the faces of both friends and strangers looking up and stopping to greet him, slowing the traffic flow considerably. He kept a smile on his face, and returned the greetings of those he recognized. Unless John knew you well it was hard for him to match your face to your name. He was introduced to a great number of people on a daily basis.

He didn’t think he was conceited or arrogant, and no one had ever told him that he was. Of course that didn’t really mean much, as he knew those envious of him never ran out of nasty rumors to spread around the school.

“John Shepard, are you ignoring me?” came the voice again, sounding bemused.

There was no escaping her now, she sounded as if she were right behind him.

“What? Oh! Sorry Kaitlin,” he said as he turned around, feigning a surprised expression. “I was thinking about the Statistics test I have later today. I didn’t mean to ignore you.” The half-truth came easily to his lips. He did have a Statistics test that day.

“Don’t worry about that stupid test, I know you’ll ace it,” she said in a bored tone as she slid up next to him, her arm snaking around his waist to pull herself closer. She hated talking about school subjects, which was exactly why John had brought it up. She perked up visibly. “You know,” she continued, her tone now obnoxiously flirtatious, “I wouldn’t mind at all if you thought about something else instead.” She giggled in that way John found immensely irritating.

He reached down to his side where her hand was failing to be subtle while it caressed his body. He nonchalantly pushed it down and away, looking to be rid of her touch. Unfazed, she brought her arm back to her side and clasped his hand in hers.

She continued to talk, changing tactics from 'subtle flirting' to 'blatantly sexual'. “What I mean, of course, is that I’d like it if you thought about me instead of some dumb test.” She turned to look up at his face, hitting him with the best smoldering gaze she could manage. “Better yet,” she added, her voice dropping to a sensual whisper, “I’d really like it if you did things to me. Why fantasize when you can have the real thing?” She finished by guiding their joined hands up to her chest, practically forcing him to feel her up. She moaned suggestively as their hands touched her left breast.

John had to admit, Kaitlin was incredibly hot. A brunette with cool blue eyes, there was nothing he could complain about when describing her physical appearance. She stood around 5’4” with a petite, slender body that many guys at Harrison High fantasized about. She had perky breasts that fit her frame perfectly and she knew it, flaunting them about whenever she could.

She was also known as one of the biggest bitches at the school, and John couldn’t stand it. He hated the way she sidled up to him, all nice words and hungry eyes, when he knew that she’d be tearing into the next poor freshman she met down the hallway. Once he got rid of her, that is.

John quickly flexed his fingers and twisted his arm, his hand disappearing from hers quicker than she could follow.

“Look, Kaitlin, I’m really not looking for anything like that right now,” he stated bluntly, knowing that she’d forget what he said by this time tomorrow. “I just remembered, I have an early meeting with my counselor about college.”

He shouldered his way through a throng of students, careful not to hurt anyone, and darted down a less-populated side hallway, heading towards the counseling offices.

Jessica Woodridge: Thursday Morning: Harrison High:

Jessica hardly caught a wink of sleep the previous night. Of course her nights were usually filled with the stress of sneaking out, the indecency of putting her body up for sale followed by cramming a whole nights worth of homework in a few hours. But despite all that, one night with Jake had left her body reeling and her mind alive in a loop of continuous thoughts.

There was so many more possibilities on the line. When it came down to it though, she knew she was going to take Jake up on his offer. Everything he said appealed to her and solved all the classic problems of a prostitute. Though a young teenage girl hardly had trouble finding a client in the usual dives, Jake had insisted that he knew a variety of people that would be interested in her and her friends. Plus he saved them from having to do business in sketchy areas where violence flourished. A safe haven to meet and do business would likely be welcomed by all. Besides, Jessica had no reason not to trust Jake yet. He remained truthful in deleting the pictures and giving her the opportunity to leave without sex. Just because she chose to fuck him twice last night was no reason for her not to put her loyalty in his hands.

This morning though she felt a little bit worse for wear though she tried her best not to show it. Only the faintest of bags showed a light purple color beneath her blue eyes, combing the messy post sex hair back into a French braid. Her usual school attire was on display for her prim and proper appearance, only this time she dared to wear her skirt a noticeably few inches higher.

She decided against going to her locker this morning, knowing she'd wind up being late to first period anyways. Instead she took a detour to Jake- er Mr. Jacobs office. June had already been so kind to schedule a meeting for her oblivious to the real meaning. Smiling and greeting her at her desk, Jessica felt no need for formalities as she opened Jake's door knowing they had unfinished business that needed to be tended too.

Mister Henry "Jake" Jacobs;
Thursday, before first bell:



Jake strode down the school's hallway like a new man. He was feeling confident, proud ... lucky! And hard as a frickin' rock. As soon as he'd arrived at campus just before 7am, he'd gone to the Staff Locker Room and dug out the jock strap he used for evening pick-up basketball; all morning, as he'd gotten ready for work, driven to work, and even walked across the parking lot to enter the building, he'd been plagued with one hard-on after another. He wasn't sure whether wearing it was really that good an idea, though. He no longer had that embarrassing flag pole extension directly below his belt line, but his entire package was now leading him down the aisles and -- whether true or not -- he felt like his manhood was being presented for judging by every young girl whose eyes happened to drop low on his form.

Finally at his office, he checked with June to see if Jessica had called in or stopped by.

"I scheduled an appointment for her, this morning," the Office Assistant answered. "She should be here anytime. Was that okay?"

Jake's stomach rolled over. He hadn't really expected to see her so quickly; he'd assumed she'd take a few days to mull over his proposal, and now he couldn't help but wonder what kind of an answer she was bringing to him so quickly. "That's fine, June. Send her in when she arrives.

"You have an appointment with John Shepard, too, Mister Jacobs," she called after him as the door was closing behind him.

"Send him in, too," Jake hollered through the glass as he quickly set about getting comfortable -- coffee brewing, soft jazz playing on the iPod base, window shades set to let in just the right amount of light. Finally, he dropped into his chair, grimacing and fidgeting at the feel of the jock strap grasping at his junk.

And he waited -- thinking, of course, of his talk the night before with Jessica.

A whore house. He'd realized after she'd left the night before that that was what they were talking about setting up, a whore house. Jake had access to the building they were going to use and could create the circumstances necessary for a secure, inconspicuous setting that wouldn't draw a lot of attention, despite the fact that the building was on school grounds. Most people didn't even realize that the building belonged to the school. For years, it had been occupied by local businesses or non-profits; at one point, after a tornado had ripped through a lower-class neighborhood on the edge of The City, it was a shelter for more than two dozen homeless families. It was risky to do something this illegal and immoral both so close to a thousand-plus student high school, but on the other hand, who would expect it!

And of course, Jake knew lots of men, lots of horny men that he knew -- or hoped -- would pay good money to get laid by young, barely legal high school girls. And of course, the girls could always work off campus, as they were now. The whore house was only an option.

Girls, Jake reminded himself. It isn't just girls. There were guys taking money to satisfy the sexual urges of others for money as well; their customers included both genders at times, just as the girls' customers did.

Jesus, he complained quietly; he was stiff as a rod again. Gotta stop thinking about this.

The door to his office opened, and Jessica poked her head inside. Again, having just been considering his erection, Jake's stomach turned over nervously. "Come in, please."

He gestured her toward the chair opposite his desk, and she entered and sat. He couldn't help but notice that her typical, conservative school skirt was noticeably higher on the thighs today. He smiled, recalling having those thighs parted over him the night before ... and again, trying to be inconspicuous, shifted his weight in an attempt to make Big Jake and the Boys a bit more comfortable in their smaller and tighter than usual surroundings.

They stared at one another for a moment, knowing expressions on their faces. And when, finally it appeared as if someone was ready to cut through the silence, Jake's eyes shifted toward movement beyond Jessica: John Shepard was just entering the outer office and walking up to June to check in for his appointment.

Jake reached to the intercom quickly, pressing the appropriate button and telling June, "Please ask Mister Shepard to stand by for a moment."

John, Jake thought, was an interesting young man, as well as a joy to be advising. He was an accomplished actor, not just in Harrison High's Dee-MAP program, but on the stage and in commercials and independent films. Lately, during their formal talks in his Jake's office, as well as their informal talks about the school grounds, John had expressed some problems with ... groupies? Is that the word...? Some of the girls were hanging all over him, and in class they were paying more attention to his handsome looks that to the lessons of the less-attractive instructors.

Jake had wanted to talk to the young man a bit more about his problems, but after last night -- after his time with Jessica, and after spending the next hours formulating a plan for the immediate future -- Jake had decided he wanted to talk to the very personable, very charismatic, very attractive young man about something totally different.

Jake had been hearing some rumors about teachers and students getting too familiar with one another, which, of course, had a very ironic and personal implication for Jake himself now. He had become aware of a particular attraction and, accessing the school video system after hours one night to comb through dozens of hours of one particular camera view, he'd come to learn that his boss -- the bitch who had been promoted over him because, he suspected, she'd been sleeping with the Superintendent -- had been spending a good deal of time eying one particular male student ... the young Mister Shepard.

Jake had been trying to figure out some way to use this to his advantage and hadn't come up with anything. Now, he thought he had a way. He'd heard -- rumor or truth, he wasn't sure -- that John's acting was going well, but not well enough to put away enough for his upcoming college expenses. Jake was beginning to notice a trend amongst some of his charges, and -- as with Jessica -- he hoped to use this to his advantage concerning his Boss and John Shepard.

Jake turned his attention back to Jessica and smiled. If she's willing to fuck for money ... I wonder if Mister Shepard is as well...

"So, Jessica," he asked softly, knowing that June had a way of hearing things she wasn't intended to quite often. "What have you decided about my idea...?"

Jessica Woodridge;
Thursday, before first bell:

Unable to be the first one to break the silence that hung over them, Jessica was thankful for the interruption. As she too peered out the window she spotted John Shepard waiting just outside for his appointment with Jake. The close proximity, despite the thick walls, made her nervous about the topic at hand. She ran in different circles than John as he primarily put his energy towards the Dee-MAP Program at Harrison.

Still though, the thought of seeing any student she recognized made her feel both nervous and alive. The more time she spent in his office the more memories came flooding back from last night. God, how had she convinced herself sleeping with him would be a good idea? It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy herself. Judging by her orgasm it was quite the opposite. But standing in his room she felt more exposed to him, more vulnerable now that she had shared something so intimate with her advisor.

She had to keep reminding herself she was no longer the girl from three months ago. Now she turned tricks and got herself into messed up situations. It was the new Jessica and she wasn’t quite sure if she had made friends with her yet.

Jessica listened to his question, thankful they didn’t have to tread through small talk before they got to the topic they were clearly both itching to hash out. Sitting down in the chair opposite his desk she couldn’t help but go back to how she felt yesterday sitting in that very seat. In a perverse way she could almost look back at what happened as a good thing. Though clearly she did not enjoy herself that Wednesday morning, an interesting proposal had been born from it.

"I took the night to think it through and I'd like to take you up on your idea." Jessica began, jumping right into it as she neatly arranged the pleats of her skirt. She folded her hands delicately across her lap as if this were a business meeting. In some ways it was as well. Business of a peculiar nature but business none the less.

"Only if you assure the building is safe and secured. I don't need police involved with my life right now, and neither would you I assume." Jessica said as the only thing she was truly weary about was the confidentiality of the whole place. After all it was so damn close to the school! Any severely lost kid could stumble in and find a whole mess waiting for them. Then again even Jessica hadn't given the building any thought before Jake had mentioned it. Hell, she didn't even realize it existed.

"As for the people I know that work as," Jessica started inhaling before she called them 'whores' since it seemed rude to do so out loud. "Prostitutes." Jessica corrected, knowing that wasn't even better. It seemed so real now that there was, what could she even call it, a whore house? Or at least a prospective one. Loosing her train of thought as she grasped at the gravity of the situation she stumbled back on track.

"Anyways, there are definitely others like me here. I can give you there names and things can start up. That's only if you promise to keep things confidential. If they don't want a part of it there secret stays a secret." Jessica said, knowing she didn't need any angry students coming after her.

Erin Sawyer
At Home, before School, Thursday morning

Erin woke up well rested, after all she'd only worked an hour and made a grand. No reason to get greedy after that kind of take. As always she let the sun wake her up. She detested waking up to an alarm clock and most nights she'd turn it off anyways. If she had been up all night servicing customers she wasn't going to wake up before the sun even made an appearance. It meant she was late but she had a solution for that.

First period for her was gym and it was already well under way by the time she dragged herself to school. She parked her car and made it to the gym but she didn't bother to dress out. She rarely did. No, she had her own arrangement worked out. Suck the coach's dick every other week or so and in exchange he reported her with perfect attendance. It had been a while since their last meeting and even longer since she'd been bothered to dress out. She wasn't that late to school so she might as well kill two birds with one stone.

Her cream colored peasant blouse flounced around her chest loosely, the thin fabric seeming to always be on the verge of giving someone a peek but never quite delivering on its promise. Her tight jeans showed off her ass which she only emphasized with a pair of low wedge sandals. Her long wavy hair she left loose like she usually did. It was one of her favorite outfits if one because of how versatile it was. Change out her sandals for a thicker pair and either add a corset to cinch the blouse up tighter or ditch the underlayer. Either way she could be ready for work in two minutes flat.

She went to the girls locker room and through it into the offices of the gym teachers. Coach Stebbins had and office with a door, a desk that wrapped around the perimeter of the small space, and a big window looking out into the gym over it. As usual he'd given the other girls her age their assignment before retreating to his office to do his real work, planning for the baseball team and oggling 18 year old asses through his window.

Erin let herself in and shut the door behind her, locking it.

"Sorry I missed class again coach," she said with a mock frown.

Mister Jacobs with Jessica;
Thursday, before first bell:

"I took the night to think it through," Jessica answered, "and I'd like to take you up on your idea."

A smile began to instantly spread across Jake's face. In his mind, her purred, Ab-so-lute-ly won-der-ful...

"Only if you assure the building is safe and secured. I don't need police involved with my life right now, and neither would you I assume."

Cops. Jake hadn't given the police much thought, and now he wondered why the hell not. His smile faded at the thought; being exposed would ruin him, ruin her, ruin anyone associated to the whore house.

It was ironic that Jake's only fear up until that point was of getting caught by school authorities, not legal ones. He had a plan for keeping the operation secret, but it was complicated and needed some tweaking.

Jessica explained that she had names of other working girls -- working guys, too -- which would be vital if his security plan was going to work. He looked out to John Shepard again, waiting patiently in the office lobby, chatting with someone Jake couldn't see beyond a large ficus tree. He was hoping that the young actor would be the key to his plan, but -- thanks to Jessica -- he would have options, he hoped.

"I am certain the building can be secured against ... let's call them people who don't belong." He had a second copy of the school's year book on his desk, and he turned it toward her, again showing her the aerial photograph on the cover. He tapped a finger to the building at the photo's far left, tracing the pic as he talked. "It has no direct connections to the rest of the school ... no enclosed hallways, no covered walkways ... except one, and that one comes almost directly from the Administration Offices ... these offices. So, no wandering students. And, once I get control over what staff has access to the building--" Which was, of course, still an issue Jake was working on. "--we won't have to worry about staff wandering in there either."

He pointed to the street and the parking lot. "Good public access that can be monitored and controlled. Therefore, those people we want to visit us, can ... but only those people. My plan is to create an Adult Education Tutoring Program." He smiled; he was proud of this idea. "That means adults can come in and out of the building ... and no one will question it."

Finally, he pointed to the second floor windows. "If you've been by the place recently, you know that most of these windows were walled off. It was used as a clean room by some electronics firm, before it became a homeless shelter after the tornado. So ... no prying eyes from the school's direction, or from the homes across the road."

He pushed the book closer to her, in case she wanted to study it any more, then leaned back in his squeaky, office chair to sip at his coffee. "So ... what do you think?"

Coach Stebbins, with Erin;
Thursday morning, First Period.


"Sorry I missed class again coach."

Stebbins immediately looked out the window toward the group of primarily females in the gym; the jockettes, as he called them, were all working hard on offensive and defensive exercises, while the prissies were practicing their dance steps or tapping away at cell phones. Confident that no one was showing any attention to the office and its inhabitants, he turned in his rolling office chair and gave the girl a quick once over.

"That's okay, Erin," he responded, a sly smirk on his lips. He took one more look out the window, then pushed the heels of his running shoes against the floor, causing his chair to roll back deeper into the office, out of view of the big window. "I needed to talk to you anyway..."

As his chair hit the wall and came to a stop, he slouched down into it and began unbuckling his belt. "It seems you have some overdue class work..."

John Shepard;
Thursday morning, first bell



Having successfully ditched Kaitlin once again, John breathed a sigh of relief as he walked briskly down the less-traveled hallways of Harrison High. He was still quite a distance away from the Administrative Offices that also housed the Counseling Offices. He glanced briefly up at one of the hallway clocks and saw that he had only two minutes until the first bell, which was when he was scheduled to meet with his counselor, Mister Jacobs.

John enjoyed Mister Jacobs’s style of counseling, and had sought his advice and his ears on numerous occasions throughout their time together at Harrison. Mister Jacobs had often offered John the solutions he needed to successfully juggle his school and acting commitments. Whether it was a pass to miss a lecture in favor of heading to the library to study for a test, or helping him find the right words to ask a teacher to grant him an extension on a paper which was due, John knew that without Mister Jacobs’s help he wouldn’t have been able to maintain his grades and continue to act. He was very grateful to have a counselor who would help him. It wasn’t always like that.

During his freshman year, when his counselor wasn’t Mister Jacobs and was instead ... Oh what was her name again, John thought as the first bell rang. He grimaced and continued his brisk pace, thinking he might be able to get to the offices within the next two minutes. Well, whatever her name was, she was a total ditz, John thought, turning another corner.

His first counselor had screwed up his freshman year’s schedule right out of the gate, and had called him into her office the first day of school to talk to him about it. When he walked in, she had favored him with a stare he couldn’t describe back then. Now, he likened it to the same stare his ... fangirls ... had gave him last year when he walked through the gym in his school-issued swimsuit, heading off to swim class. It had made him uncomfortable, and she had spent the first minute or so staring at him like that before she realized she was supposed to be talking to him. The conversation was very awkward, and after she had made the necessary corrections to his schedule and bade him a good day, he had walked directly to the principal’s office to ask to be given a new counselor, as he didn’t feel comfortable with his current one. That’s when he was assigned to Mister Jacobs.

Right as John finished reminiscing about his weird former counselor, he arrived in front of the Administration offices. He opened the outer doors and stepped inside. As the doors shut behind him, he checked the clock again. He was three minutes late.

Stepping over to the secretary’s desk, John smiled at her and said, “Hi, sorry I’m late. I have an appointment with Mister Jacobs that was supposed to begin at the first bell. Is he available?”

The secretary was about to respond when the intercom on her desk crackled abruptly, squawking out to them both in Mister Jacobs’s voice, “Please ask Mister Shepard to stand by for a moment.”

John was surprised. He knew that if you were late for an appointment your time-slot could be given to someone who had an emergency, he just hadn’t thought it would happen so early in the morning. He smiled again at the secretary, told her he was going to go have a seat, and walked over to the waiting area. He didn’t peek into Mister Jacobs’s office like he normally would have, as he assumed it was an emergency meeting and he did not want to be disrespectful. Sitting down, John leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the room wash over him, and relaxed his mind. He was surrounded by chaos constantly; it was always relaxing when he found moments of peace and quiet.

It wasn’t long before another student entered the offices, checked in with the secretary, and came over to where John was sitting. John hadn’t opened his eyes, preferring to keep the period of tranquility alive as long as possible.

That dream was immediately blown to pieces, because at that moment the other student said, “You’re John Shepard, aren’t you?”

John groaned inwardly, but he wasn’t about to rudely dismiss someone just for asking who he was. He opened his eyes and looked over to a student he didn’t recognize. The boy in the chair across from his own had that distinct “freshman” air about him.

John answered his question. “Yes, my name is indeed John Shepard. What’s yours?”

“Are you the John Shepard? The same John Shepard that was in The Dawn of a Dream?” The student fired back, oblivious to John’s question. John hated this conversation; he had repeated it with hundreds of people ever since the movie was shown at a local theater. He wished he had asked the theater’s owner not to show it.

“Yes, I am that John Shepard.” John figured it wasn’t worth it to try to ask the kid any questions; the freshman was obviously more interested in meeting “the” John Shepard.

He settled back into his chair and let his mind dip into ‘auto-respond’ mode, answering the questions mindlessly. He had answered every one of them half a thousand different times. John hoped that whoever Mister Jacobs was seeing would be finished soon. He didn’t want to have this conversation continue to where he would have to say no to the inevitable request to sign this kid’s backpack, or shirt, or face, like he was always asked at some point.

"It seems you have some overdue class work..."

"I suppose I do," Erin said as she walked up to his chair and sank to her knees between his. She helped him finish his belt and unbutton his slacks. She fished his cock out and took it between her lips, lashing the tip with her tongue as she squeezed the base of it. She made sure to tilt her head to one side and flip her hair out of the way so the coach could see her work. Her red lips stretched around him as he firmed up and she started to take him deeper with each stroke.

The coach didn't know about her job and she liked it that way. As far as he knew she was just a highschool slut eager to get out of gym and willing to suck cock to do it.

See "mmmmm"'d around his dick as she began to bob her head up and down, twisting her grip around the base of his cock at the same time.

Coach Stebbins, with Erin;
Thursday, First Period, Coach's Office:

The gym teacher breathed deeply, relieved to finally be feeling his dick serviced. Erin had been blowing Stebbins two or three time a month for much of the school year. She'd approached him, asking if there was a way she could get out of gym class; and his answer had been, "Is there anyway you could forget that I was your teacher and just a man?"

Stebbins was a pig; he knew it and accepted it. The students -- hell, even the other staff members -- knew that his eyes spent more time on tits and tight asses than on eyes and grade books. But even he had been surprised at how easily Erin had taken to pleasing him that first time.

And now, after resisting self-pleasure for more than two weeks just to be ready for her, she was having no problem pushing him rapidly toward ecstasy. It took less than a minute for him to feel the climax approaching. He let it well, almost to the point of explosion, before reaching down to grasp her head tightly and keep her upon his erection. Last time, Erin had pulled away early, gripping and stroking him and talking dirty to him in an attempt to take attention away from the simple fact that she didn't want his cum in her mouth.

"An ... A ... plus," he informed her between heavy pants, "Deserves ... a swallow ... bitch."

He erupted with a satisfied groan and relaxed back into his chair, amazed at both the girl, and his power over her.

That was the drawback, he was a pig. What the school saw I'm him was a successful baseball program, but what got his wife to ignore his shit she didn't know. If he'd ever picked her up for her services she'd have charged him double. Still, keeping him satisfied made her life easier.

She didn't like his cum at all. It was grainy, sour, and utterly unpleasant. So she didn't like it at all when he held her down and forced her to take it. She tried to push away but he held on tight. Of course the old bastard would have also saved up. It filled her mouth a little dribbled out. She couldn't get it in her so she leaned in farther and let that dribble fall on his shirts before she swallowed noisily. By instinct she pulled up and opened her mouth proving she'd swallowed.

Jessica Woodridge;
Thursday, before first bell:


Jessica soaked in all the information, picking through it with a fine tooth comb to check out any flaws. The plan itself though seemed to have no faults to it. The only possible problem that it held was the house on a whole being discovered as a ruse for prostitutes to do business. Even without the precautions Jake was taking to set up an Adult Education Tutoring Program, you would never assume by just seeing people inside the building that they were all whores and customers. As long as the sex and exchange of money was kept hidden, no one would be the wiser.

The program, the blocked out windows and whatever Jake would do with the staff to secure them was all just added insurance. It was extra cushioning to keep them safe. The fact that Jake had even bothered to come up with a way to conceal the building and the people inside proved that he had invested a good deal of thought into the project. Most of all it proved he cared.

"I think this all seems plausible." Jessica stated, a smile of semi disbelief on her lips as she looked down at the photo of the building. It was hard to imagine it being tainted with there dirty deeds. She kept looking for reasons that this ideal would fail but the truth was there were few. It was just the fact that the whole idea was so grand and bizarre, to have a whore house so close to school, she knew there must have been some sort of major fault to it. But the harder she looked the less she saw.

"Actually it's very plausible." Jessica said, her eyes now looking up to him. She reached into her bag and pulled out a random piece of paper and pen and began scrawling names across the top. Just name's though, there was no need to risk labelling their occupation. In her neat cursive writing she had put down 'Erin Sawyer, Karilina McIntosh, Jin Shou, Nate Briggs'.

Jessica held the paper out to him, wondering if she was in the wrong by outing these people. She would face a fiery vengeance by them thats for sure if they ever felt angry towards her revealing their nature to Mr. Jacobs but Jessica knew it was only to help them after all.

"Those are all the people I know of that..do what I do." Jessica said, still playing it vague with her words in case someone were to hear. You could never be to safe within the school. "I'm sure there are more though."

Stebbin's heart was still pounding as Erin stood and looked to him with that by your leave expression that she always gave him after a blow job. "A-plus, Miss Sawyer ... A-plus."

He drew a deep, high-in-the chest breath -- not because of the pleasure still coursing through him but because it helped to narrow his waist line -- and set about zipping, buttoning, and buckling his twenty-pounds-overweight body back to public presentation. He nodded his head toward the door, excusing her for another week or two.

As she headed away and just before she opened the door, he shot out to her, "Final Fitness Exams are next week.". He turned to make sure she was listening and added, "I think it's about time we fucked ... don't you...?"

He smiled devilishly, then turned back to the window and the underclass virgins prancing, dancing, and running about beyond his window ... uncaring of whether Erin agreed with him or even had a comment for him...

Typical really, Erin was used to Stebbins' attitude. It was one more reason she prefered blushing, grateful virgins like Pamela to entitled dick heads like Stebbins. She had no intention of fucking him. No, next time she'd just bring along a copy of a picture she'd taken of them one of the first times they'd worked out their deal. Stebbins was rough as always and Erin's face was clearly visible. It could ruin his marriage and would certainly destroy his career. She just needed to remind him who really had the power. Right now though, she really needed to brush her teeth and rinse her mouth out.

(OOC - A Companion thread, "David and Jessica, starts here. You can subscribe to it now and read it as it is posted; or you can wait until it is completed, which will be announced in the OOC once completed. This CT occurs "Thursday night". )

Kari McIntosh, 1st period, Gym;

Kari yawned for the fourth time that morning. It was only first period, gym, but she was tired as hell, and it wasn't like she had an actual bed to sleep in. The apartment she had found wasn't too far away from school,but it wasn't in the best neighborhood, and she always had to be careful. Hopefully she could find something better soon, but the money she had saved from a long time ago was running low, and she didn't know what she could do after all the money was gone.

She stretched slowly,bending forward, backwards, and sideways in order to be stretched. She wasn't a jockette, as Coach Stebbins liked to call the girls who had more muscles the most females and spent have the period practicing their hit, nor was she a prissie either. She was on the volleyball team, and the school's dance team, as a tumbler. No, not everybody knew her name. She tended to be quiet in classes, and didn't go to school functions. She was smart as hell, in all the advanced classes, but she felt that made her stand out more.

She did some simple dance stretches to get her going, and then did the performing dance they always did at games and school functions. She tried to keep her problems off her mind though, she needed to find a new way to make money, and quick. She wasn't going to go back home that's for sure. She knew they didn't care anyway. They never supported what she wanted to be-and professional dancer- and they didn't give a cahoot about what was going on behind closed doors in their own damn house. She wouldn't except the fact that she ran away to go on her own, only to come back because she ran out of funds.

Yes. She needed a plan B. And fast.

Mr. Henry "Jake" Jacobs, with John Shepard;
Harrison High Administration Offices:

Jake sat in silence for a moment after Jessica's departure, just thinking. This is gonna happen, Jake. You're creating a whore house! On school grounds! Using students for prostitutes! What the fuck is going through your mind?

He knew exactly what was going on, of course. He was going to get laid again, laid more, laid a lot! That was why he was doing this; he wanted to be close to women who parted their thighs and lips for money. That was all it came down to. Oh, sure, he was being truthful when he told Jessica that he cared about her and the other working students; that was his job after all, looking after the well being of the students in his charge. But still, it came down to creating a safe, secure, stable environment for them to do their work out of ... so that he might be able to get his dick wet once in a while as gratitude for what he was doing for them.

Suddenly, Jake realized that this was the first time he'd thought about sex beyond Jessica. Up until this point, it had all been about nailing her again. He could have requested every thing last night: vaginal, oral, anal ... Well, that's the three holes, what else is there...? Role play, simulated rape, group...

Suddenly, Jake realized he didn't really know that much about sex, not beyond what he'd already done or had seen in movies or read in magazines. Man, you are vanilla, Jake! That made him smile, because while he knew that his sex life had been relatively conservative so far, he hoped that was going to change very soon.

"Mister Jacobs," June's voice sounded over the intercom, "Mister Shepard is still standing by."

Oh shit! Forgot about that. Jake started to stand, then realized he was once again that blood had invaded his jock strap and he was again imitating a flag pole. He reached out to the intercom, pressed it, and said, "Send him in, please, June."

Jake gestured John to a seat as he entered, saying quickly and politely, "John ... thanks for coming in. I have a ... situation I need to discuss with you."

They traded a few comments and questions about school in general, and Jake asked the typical questions about John's sometimes-overwhelming conflicts between his acting career and his high school education. Jake had for a long time wondered why John hadn't shifted his learning to home schooling, private tutoring, or simply a private school, which might be able to tailor a more personalized education for him.

Then, just about the same time that Jake took notice of Ms. Hanover -- the Senior Student Adviser, and his boss -- taking notice of the young Mister Shepard, he came to realize that John's acting career wasn't bringing in the big bucks, as was the case for probably 95% of today's actors. Struggling actors, Jake imagined, were just like teachers; they didn't do their job for the money, or even the thought that some day in the future there would be money ... they did it because they loved to do it.

Jake was pretty sure John loved his job. But he also knew that the boy had an expensive education ahead of him, too, whether he went to a traditional university or to one of the better acting-based colleges.

So, Jake was beginning to feel he had all of his ducks in a row: Hanover yearned for John; John needed money; Jake had recently learned of prostitution within his school; John was a good looking man who an older, sexually frustrated woman might just jump at being with; and, most convenient of all, there would soon be a place very nearby where Jake could control the encounter between the two lovers.

Now, all he had to do was convince an actor to act as if he wanted a teacher, who knew that sex with a student would end her career. Simple shit! Right Jake?

He smiled broadly toward John, then chuckled a bit. There ain't no way in hell you're going to pull this off, you idiot!

"John, tell me ... you like girls, don't you ...? Women...?"

Oh, Jesus ... you started with that?

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes that he had to wait until the secretary told him that Mister Jacobs was now available to see him. Ten minutes had never seemed longer.

The annoying freshman kept prattling on and on about how cool it was that John had gotten good experience in front of the camera. He also kept mentioning how he was also an actor, and how he was hoping to find someone to help him get his career moving. If they didn’t ask for an autograph, they would hint endlessly about how good they would be for any roles John knew about.

His name finally called, John’s eyes snapped open and he launched himself out of the chair, glad to finally be rid of the motor-mouth who was now shouting his name to John, like he would remember it and spread it to his contacts in the business. It irritated him to no end.

He walked quickly to Mister Jacob’s office. He knocked twice on the door as he opened it and stepped inside. John returned Mister Jacob’s greeting. “It’s no problem sir, I’m sorry I was late. I hope that whoever had to see you earlier is alright.” He sat down in the seat opposite Mister Jacobs’s desk. “So,” John asked, his interest piqued, “What’s this situation you’re talking about?” Mister Jacobs rarely asked John for favors. John was always asking him instead.

It seemed that Mister Jacobs had forgotten the situation for a moment, as he proceeded to ask the normal questions about school and his future college plans. John told his counselor about his desire to attend the New York Film Academy, but he abruptly halted. He tentatively opened his mouth and then closed it again, before finally he opened it once more and said, “Mister Jacobs, I don’t have a clue how I’m going to afford to go to school there. Even with the school having offered me all the grants I’m eligible for, I’m still coming up tens of thousands of dollars short per year. I don’t have any credit for private loans, and my father refused to fill out the federal aid form. He…”
John paused for a moment, shoulders slumping as he remembered the things his father said. “He hollered at me for a good long time, saying that I ‘shouldn’t need to take out loans with all the money I make from acting’. He kept calling me worthless, telling me that I’m ‘a selfish, lazy brat’, and finished it all off with declaring me ‘a disgrace to the family name’.” John took a deep breath to clear his mind. His father’s words always cut into him deep.

He steeled himself and continued, “I used to have a joint bank account with him, so that he wouldn’t have to ask me to pay the bills he couldn’t afford to. He hated that and it made him yell at me more, so I put my money into an account that he was the primary owner of. I never thought that he would gamble almost all of it away. I never noticed because I never cared about the money too much, and now that I need it, it’s gone. I’ve got enough to move out once the year’s over, but after that, I’m broke.”

John listened intently to his counselor’s response, but it wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. Without a very substantial sum of money to draw from, John’s hopes of attending college next year were just a fantasy.

While it was hard for him in the present, John knew that he would bounce back once he picked up a few more roles for different films and for commercials. He might have to wait a year or two in order to go to school, but he wouldn’t be scrambling after pennies in the street.

His phone chose that moment to vibrate loudly in his pocket. He ignored it at first, gave Mister Jacobs an embarrassed look, and tried to ignore it. It stopped for a moment before it began again, and this time John slipped his phone quietly out of his pocket when he realized his counselor hadn’t noticed the disturbance. He glanced quickly down at the screen, saw that his agent had called him, and then when he didn’t answer, had left a text message. His agent never contacted him during school except for dire emergencies, so John was already worried before he even opened the message.

The screen display read,


John felt the bottom of his stomach disappear as he finished the message. If Warner Brothers decided to put pressure on the independent film producers and other large film companies, John would be unable to find a role in anything bigger than a local commercial… while wearing a chicken suit. He would be finished.

John completely missed what Mister Jacobs had asked him. He lifted his gaze back up to Mister Jacbos, and in a dazed voice asked, “I’m sorry Mister Jacobs…I didn’t hear what you said. Would you repeat it please?” John could feel it as his life began to shatter into pieces in front of him.

"I'm sorry," Jake responded, sure that John thought he had been questioning his sexual orientation. "I ... left me be clearer. I, um ... I know a woman ... she's expressed an interest in you. In ... dating you. But ... well, it's ... sensitive."

Sensitive...? Let's try inappropriate, improper, immoral and nearly illegal...

Jake sat back in his chair and studied the young man; John was looking a bit ... peaked; his face had lost some of its normal color, and he wore the expression of a mourner at a funeral. Maybe this isn't the time for this, Jake...

But Jake needed someone to do his bidding; Jake needed Paula Hanover out of the picture. Jake's plan to create a whore house -- on the campus -- relied on secrecy, relied on Jake's ability to come and go at will, relied on Jake's ability to operate without a nosy supervisor tracking his whereabouts at all hours. Hanover had to either be under his control or gone!

"I guess what I'm asking, John," Jake continued, leaning forward to take his I'm here for you pose that seemed to relax his students well. "I'm asking ... would you be interested in ... getting to know someone ... a woman, not a girl ... who needs some attention. She's a nice woman ... a professional woman ... who ... has had some hard times. She could use some good conversation ... some laughter--" A hard fuck was what he wanted to say, A hard fuck before the video camera I'll be installing. "--maybe a pleasant walk in the park ... or down along the river bank at sunset..."

Jake knew that wasn't going to happen; Hanover wasn't going to be seen in public on a date with a student. Jake only threw it out there because he was afraid that he was beginning to sound like he was doing exactly what he was doing, soliciting a student to seduce a school employee.

Jake had no idea whether Paula would engage in carnal endeavors with a student, but if there was a chance, she'd do it with John; Jake had no doubts about that. The Senior Adviser had been given second glances to Shepard since he was a freshman, before he became known as a local actor and model.

"Like I said," Jake continued. "This is ... sensitive. It's not something that she or I would want to become public. I would make the arrangements for the two of you to meet ... would pay for dinner, a Towncar to take you where you need to go ... dinner at a quiet restaurant, or a nice drive to The Cliffs ... have you ever looked down upon the City from there on a clear night? It's beautiful."

Wrap this up, Jake! You're rambling. He had no intention of sending them out on a date or for a drive; he was going to get them together in a secure location he could control, so all this romantic talk was just to pull John in. Lynch pin, Jake. It's time for the lynch pin.

"And John, you would be doing me a great favor," he said, reaching into his jackets outside pocket and removing a wad of money. He stripped off a hundred dollar bill and slid it half way toward John. "I know times are hard for you right now. School, the career, the other students ... your upcoming tuition--" He glanced at the bill, then back to John. "If you help me ... I will help you. That's for you ... just to think about what I have said."

Jake allowed the folded wad of money to flip open, exposing several more hundreds; it gave the appearance that he was loaded, but to be honest, Jake had had to empty his savings account to begin preparations for the whore house, and these last hundreds -- plus the ones that were hidden inside, to make the was appear thicker -- were the last of his fortune.

"And ... if you decide to help me out-- I mean ... help my friend, there will be more help." On the word help, Jake tapped a finger tip on the hundred before John, then pushed it closer to him. "I don't need to know right away ... but I need to know by the end of the day. And as I said ... this is sensitive. You can't be telling anyone what we've discussed her today, just as I would never discuss with anyone else."

Jake waited for a moment, for a reaction from John. The boy still seemed a bit spooked, though by what Jake couldn't know. "So ... comments...? ... questions...?"

John wanted to be appalled with his counselor for his seemingly complete disregard for John’s situation. But John hadn’t told him about the message; Mister Jacobs had no clue that John very well might have lost all potential income opportunities for… for who knows how long.

He’s just trying to be nice, John thought. He can tell that I’m down and he’s trying to cheer me up by telling me about some woman he knows who fancies me. He’s just joking.

As John continued to listen, however, he started to realize that his counselor was NOT making a joke. John knew this was a serious request when his counselor leaned forward and spoke to him like he always did when John needed help. As Mister Jacobs continued to talk about this mysterious admirer, John was wondering if there was something else going on. Did Mister Jacobs want this woman owing him a favor or something? Did he fancy this woman, and when he found out she had a desire for John, had he told her he would set them up? What it really just a case of helping a friend through hard times? It sounded unbelievable.

Mister Jacobs kept talking, and John listened with rapt attention. His counselor was mentioning the need for extreme discretion, and mentioned the fact that he himself would be paying for all of the expenses. John couldn’t figure out what was going on. Why would he do that? John asked himself, troubled.

That’s when Mister Jacobs pulled out a wad of cash and told John that he would be doing him “a great favor” while sliding the crisp one-hundred-dollar bill to the middle of his desk.

John couldn’t help but listen even more intently. This was very serious for Mister Jacobs; that much was blatantly evident. He listened as his counselor named almost all of the things in John’s life that were troubling him, and nearly every one of the problems he mentioned was centered on his financial situation. His offer to “help” John was hinted at, but it was entirely obvious that Mister Jacobs intended to pay John for going out with this woman. And he was willing to pay John a lot, judging by the fact he was giving John one hundred dollars just to think about the offer.

His counselor’s next move was even more blatant about the cash he was willing to spend; he unfolded the bills in his hand to reveal at least another five hundred dollars, with much more still veiled in his palm.

It practically screamed to John: do this for me, and you’ll be rewarded.

For what it looked like his counselor was offering, going out to dinner with a fan and spending an evening with them was looking to be the easiest decision he had made in months.

Mister Jacobs’s next words only confirmed John’s earlier conclusion. If he accepted his counselor’s offer, it was definitely going to be worth it. When the offer was finally revealed in its entirety, Mister Jacobs reiterated the need for discretion. John wasn’t going to tell a soul.

When he was prompted to speak, John opened his mouth with every intention of accepting, but the words stuck in his throat. What was he really getting into? Did it really matter?

Your career in film is as good as dead, he heard himself think, you don’t have any savings since your dad gambled it all away, and you can’t get any loans. You need cash.

He didn’t have a choice. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

John re-opened his mouth. He was determined: he would do whatever it took to acquire the cash to afford his tuition and get the hell away from his father.

“My only question, Mister Jacobs, is when do we start?”

This Companion Thread continues Jake's solicitation of John into seducing Ms. Hanover.

Mister Jacobs; Saturday Night, at home:



Did you ever imagine this, Jake...? Did you ever imagine you'd be organizing a whore house?

He was sitting back in the Window Seat, with a hot toddy in one hand and the list of students -- whores -- that Jessica had given him in the other. He tipped the list to catch the moon light and considered the names again.

Erin Sawyer. Erin was one of his, one of the two hundred plus students who were supposed to come to him with their questions, concerns, problems, and so on. Jake reached to the pile of folders at his feet and picked the one with her name on it. He opened it, as he already had done -- with it and all the others -- several times during the day and reviewed it again. Senior; loner; not involved in any extracurricular activities. There was an incident earlier in the year involving a college aged man who was roaming the halls, looking for her. She'd claimed not to know the guy when questioned about it later, and -- when the guy never returned -- no disciplinary action had been taken.

Jake flipped a page and looked at a photograph of Erin; it had been published in the year book ... or the school news paper ... or something, possibly the monthly poetry magazine for all he knew. She was a beautiful girl, with long, naturally auburn hair and deep brown eyes. Over the years, he'd masturbated to the image of her -- as he had with most of Harrison's sexy female students -- always after staring at this photo, which he had a photocopied duplicate of in his bedside table. Sometime they were in the quad, where he thought the picture had been taken; and other times in his office, with her face down on his desk, grasping at the its oak edges, screaming as he pounded against her white skinned ass, his dick plunging deep into her again and again and again...

He realized he was hard and started to reach to his groin to reposition himself. He stopped, first checking the windows across the courtyard; the girls weren't home, which was disappointing but not nearly as much as the fact that he hadn't seen either of the pair since he and Jessica had put on their show for them three nights earlier.

Jake closed the file and opened the next one. Karilina McIntosh. "Kari", -- as he'd heard some of the students call her -- wasn't one of Jake's charges and was a total mystery to him. And even her file didn't help reveal her. It was full of contradictions: it indicated that she had lived at her current address for a number of years, but some recent mail was returned with no longer at this address scribbled on the outside; Jake thought he'd seen her socializing with a number of students in the past, but when he'd spent the last couple of days inconspicuously questioning others about her, no one seemed to know anything about her; and talking to some of her teachers, he uncovered some concerns about whether she was going to be able to pay for the Fees and Labs for some of her more advanced classes. The teachers hadn't been able to put their fingers on the problem, but they'd universally agreed that her family didn't seem to be supporting her financially in the classes that were most important to her future education.

Jake had questioned Jessica about whether Karilina was already prostituting herself or just looking at it, but she hadn't been able to give him a solid answer one way or the other. Knowing -- or even considering -- Karilina as a prostitute had led to his pounding his erection to her image as well.

Jin Shou had been the most surprising of the names Jessica had given to him. Another one of his, Jake knew the girl as quiet and reserved and very traditional with regard to her culture -- which, in itself, was another contradiction for Jake. Although the school had ceased forcing students to list their race on their admission forms, Jake remembered that Jin -- or was it Shou...? Which is the given name, and which is the surname...? he questioned once again -- was Chinese, yet she hung out with the a group of Japanese students during much of her non-class time. He'd wanted to ask her about it during one of their counseling sessions, but he'd been unable to figure out a way to do so without sounding racist or without implying that she should have been hanging out with the Chinese kids.

It was a conflict for Jake to even consider asking it, of course. Harrison High promoted diversity in all areas, and the Administration was proud of the fact that of their 1,100 plus students, more than 50% were involved in at least one diversity program or extra-curricular club. They had led the state in that statistic for more than a decade, and every year the percentage rose a percent or two more.

He looked to Jin's photo, also from the year book or the arts magazine. Jake remembered the controversy over it; one of the teachers thought it was a cropped pic of her topless, possibly even naked, and refused to allow it to be published. But it was argued -- successfully -- that maybe she'd been wearing a tube top or strapless blouse and to prevent it from being used was akin to making Jin prove her innocence, rather than the school proving her guilt, and the photo went through.

Of course, Jake had imagined that Jin was in fact naked when he'd driven himself to satisfaction thinking of her. He pictured her tiny body in his arms, legs wrapped around him, as he pressed her against the wall of a Buddhist Temple. He had no idea of whether she was Buddhist, of course; despite his education and job understanding other people, their backgrounds, and cultures, Jake wasn't even sure whether it was the Japanese, the Chinese, or both who were Buddhist; religion wasn't exactly his strong point, but fantasizing fucking Jin as she grasped, screaming in ecstasy, to a statue of Buddha as he pounded her from behind ... that was his strong point.

Jake opened one final file. He hadn't been surprised when Jessica gave him this name. Rumors about Nate Briggs had been rampant for years. One story -- dating all the way back to his Freshman year -- was that he'd fucked a 20 year old Teacher's Assistant in the wrestling work out room. When Security responded to an open door alarm, he found the Assistant, naked, with a sheen of sweat and a panting chest, still lying among the rolled up mats. Under questioning later, she claimed, then denied, then claimed again that Nate had performed oral sex on her, then split -- carrying all of his clothes -- as he heard the heavy foot steps of the Security Guard approaching. She, of course, was fired and only escaped Statutory Rape charges because Nate -- who was never disciplined -- denied to have ever been there and, for good measure, had a solid alibi as well.

The other rumor had been that he'd again performed oral sex -- this time on a male class mate -- to get the young man to take a math final for him. Analysis of the tests proved it wasn't Nate's work; the test was thrown out, he repeated it for a C+ grade, and he was suspended from school for a week. But no evidence of sexual misconduct was ever found, and the student who took the test for him was never conclusively determined.

Jake smiled and chuckled. You're a freak, you know that? There's something wrong with you. As he glanced down to the three files, then back to Nate's, he could even remember fantasizing sex with Nate! Oh, Jake had nothing against homosexuality; that wasn't what surprised him. What surprised him was that in a school with 500 girls running about in micro skirts and second skin leotards and jeans so tight you could pick out the dimples in their well formed asses, that after hearing about Nate's second sexually related infraction, Jake had come home that night and imagined the boy on his knees in the Administration Office, looking up from between his bared thighs and asking, "Now, this will get me out of detention, right?"

Jake laughed and tossed the file aside, shaking his head.

"What's so funny?"

Jake's head jerked, and he found one of the girls in 4-J looking up to him from her kitchen. He wasn't certain she had asked what she did, but she quickly repeated it. He smiled, his mind instantly reminding himself that they'd been neighbors for going on two years, but it was only after he'd fucked Jessica to a screaming orgasm, right here in the Window Seat, that either of them said a word to him.

"Work," he answered, calling through the courtyard a bit louder than necessary. Softer, he repeated, "Work ... just reviewing some files."

She nodded and returned the smile, and then was gone back into her apartment. Jake's excitement disappeared, although his penis continued to quickly harden. He shrugged and was about to evacuate the Window Seat, when the girl was back in the window with a bottle of wine, calling up, "Care to pop a cork?"

"Sure," Jake answered -- too quickly. Don't sound so eager, boy. His mind was already racing with the possibilities here. He didn't believe for a moment that she was inviting him over simply to be neighborly; she'd seen him with another woman, seen him pleasuring her all the way to the mountain peak, and now she wanted to open a bottle with him. Could it be true? Do women only want what they can't have?

"4-I?" he called out, knowing it not to be true. She corrected him, and he asked if he could bring anything with him. Say condoms, he heard the Devil on His Shoulder call out. Lot's of condoms. When she told him no, he finished with, "Be right over."

He left the Window Seat, took a two minute shower, changed into some casual clothes, and was at her door in six minutes flat. Your life is a-changing, Jakie-boy. And all it took was for you to meet a teen age whore. Who-da-thunk...

(OOC -- This is the link to the Companion Thread for Jake and Karilina's first talk about prostitution. Please follow it as it is posted, as it will contain details that the other characters (or their writers) will want to know for their own CTs. Thanks.)

BTW, this CT begins Tuesday afternoon. Don't let that interfere with any of your own posts that take place either before or after that.

This link will take you to the meeting between Jake and Jin, at which they discuss her addition to the staff of the soon-to-be whore house. We will say that the meeting takes place Monday night, just because I have to pick a day.

Please read along with us, rather than wait for the CT to be completed. Some information posted in one CT will be very applicable to others. Once all of the "whores" have finished the CTs in which they discuss the whore house with Jake, then we will all return to the IC thread.

Oh, and for those of you reading who are not participating, there was a question about the age of the characters in the RP. ALL CHARACTERS ARE AT LEAST 18 years of age, as stated in the OOC and in my PC's post about not being willing to go to jail for promoting the prostitution of a minor. Thanks for the concern, though.