| She worked the streets of Main and Paramount in the rundown sector of town. Her name was Holly Martin, but people, mostly men, knew her as Holler Holly, because she hollered loudly when she was having sex. Her cries were noteworthy, because she was a professional, a prostitute as well as a drug dealer. Cops knew her, too. She was wanted by the police for her illegal activities.
Holly came to the southern town of Sweeten, looking for a new scene, and the growing market of underage kids who needed to get high was large in this smaller town. She came with a friend of hers, Jamie James. They began to sell dime bags of pot on the street. They held off on selling their bodies, until they ran out of marijuana, and in need of money, they headed out in the dark in coochie cutter shorts, thin tanktops, stilettos, and showing off what they had in the twitch and swing of their hips. They became the only hookers who were brazen enough to walk the streets of Sweeten, but that was because they didn't know what lie beneath the low crime rate of the little town.
Holly's body was young, as she was only 23. Her skin had yet to be stretched over the weight gain of age, and since she was an exotic dancer for a few years after her 18th birthday, she was very fit. Her stomach muscles were chiseled and flat. Her tits were large and milky. She had a firm bottom, very round and large. Her body would be somewhat pear shaped, if it wasn't for the long legs. Her other nickname was "Stretch" since her legs stretched on in the eyes of men.
She wasn't always a street walker. Once, she was the daughter of wealthy parents. They disowned her after she dated a 45-year-old man in high school, who was giving her drugs and fucking her without protection. They found out, because the boyfriend taped one of their nights of passion. Holly had never been more defiant of them. She did it to make them mad, to make them punish her, but instead, they did just the opposite, pretending as though she wasn't even their daughter. All she really wanted was to be cared for like their jobs, which they spent more time with than their only daughter. Money, cars, and free reign about the house never meant as much to Holly.
She said she didn't care at the time. She moved in with the old man, who was the only one around to take care of her, and Jim, who was much more experienced in the ways of women, offered his apartment and love at first. Then when she was getting comfortable in the apartment, he told her the truth.
She was a naive 18-year-old Daddy's girl back then. Instead of being a kind Father figure, like she had thought he was, seeking attention in their overly sexual relationship from the man, he was actually quite the opposite. He was controlling and quite unexpectedly, he was not like anything she thought he was.
Jim tied Holly up when he once again, caught her off guard. Then, he began to tell her who he actually was. He said he actually placed the tape in her parent's bedroom, knowing they'd find it when they came home. He confessed that he only got with her to get her thrown out on the street with no place to go.
He'd seen her in the mall and thought she was the best one out of her group of girls, obviously the popular wild type, who looked for thrills to escape her comfortable life as a rich girl. Jim never really understood girls like that. All of that power and wealth, a great life destroyed by the needs of stupid little girls, so he waited until he would catch Holly off guard. He chose girls like her specifically because they were the most easy to manipulate. They always thought they knew more than they did.
He found the chance when her friends spread out in the food court, looking for dinner amongst a medley of fried chicken and sugary sweet ice cream. She wasn't eating, and although she would deny it, she was an anorexic. She was very vain about her beauty and the gifts of a fit body, which she was essentially rotting from the inside out by never nourishing it, never developing the kind of breasts and ass that most men admire.
Jim came and talked to her, very kindly to get her trust. She tried to ignore him, laughing and pretending to be ignorant. Then, he slipped in a notion that he had the right kind of thrill for her. She was a snotty thing, in the way that she held her shoulders back and raised her brows doubtfully. She made him feel he wasn't good enough for her. He decided right then and there she was perfect for his newest project and gave her his number, just in case she did want something else besides walking around the mall. He made her feel like a kid in that respect, as though he could lead her down the path she wanted to go.
A path with an older man like her Father, but instead of ignoring her and buying her love, he would actually be there to give her attention. It was obvious she wanted to enjoy that sort of relationship. It was obvious in the way she called him that very same night and met up with him. She was a bit of a slut, but she didn't know how to fuck like an expert. More or less, Holly had only been with inexperienced boys.
Jim's revelations and confessions shocked Holly to the core. The whole time while they were dating, he explained how he was a pimp, fucking other girls all the while he fucked her. He didn't deal drugs himself, letting others work for him, so that was why he had such an abundant supply to get her addicted on pills and weed. She had no idea, and her mind was blown. She knew she had made a grave mistake, thinking she knew everything so well. Her know-it-all manner had gotten her into trouble.
She was a toy in this game. He told her how he did this with all of the whores that worked with him. They'd all come from wealthy families, but she had been the easiest to get. That may or may not have been true, but he liked to degrade her, watching her start to cry. She deserved it for the ways she had been treating him, as though he was working for her. She was going to work for him now.
Their relationship had been "loving" before. The sex was sometimes rough just before she came to live with him. As he was explaining, a parade of people walked through, laughing at her tied up in the corner. They knew what he was doing, asking loudly as they patted him on the back.
"Snagged another huh, JT?" he asked Jim, referring to him by his pimp name, Jimmy , who stood like a cocky white man, folding his arms and staring down at her with a stern look.
"MmmmHm," he replied, smiling wickedly at his friend.
They returned their gaze back down to her. His friend began to talk again, asking about what her specially was going to be. Jim answered, "Anal."
At that time, the cherry of Holly's ass had yet to be taken, and paired with the added information, her mind was completely falling off the edge and tumbling down the rabbit hole, not believing that this was real. It must have been some sort of roleplay adventure. She wouldn't believe Jim was so dirty!
"She has really nice tits, kind of on the skinny side though, may want to feed her, JT," he teased, slapping his chest lightly and laughing.
It was as if the friends didn't even realized that she was being held against her will. They were okay with her being forced into prostitution and slavery to this man, who she now considered to be a stranger, although she knew him well. It seemed now though, that she had only known his cock and a shadow of his personality and true form.
Holly kept quiet, listening to everything as thought it were unreal, something she would wake up from, but the truth would haunt her. She would be turned into a slut, trained to do the bidding of strange men for money and drugs. She wouldn't want to at first, she'd fight it, but eventually, she'd see the money and remember the life she once had. She would use her body to get what she wanted and make the money for Jim. She became the best trained fucktoy he ever had.
After a while though, her name got around. She got arrested and was in prison for a few weeks. The sheriff of the precinct got her released, for good behavior and because he used to be friends with her parents. The cops were good around her hometown, but the former good girl was urged to leave, if she wanted to continue her business or just to start over. Holly was too well known throughout the area, and so she did, running away from Jim, who tried to forbid it. He was losing his money ticket.
Sweeten's streets were full of horny men, who were deprived of sex. Holly and Jamie had never been so busy. They bought weed from a supplier on Sundays, after getting their cash. It was the best thing Holly had ever done to go out on her own. She couldn't believe more hookers didn't do it. Sweeten was wonderful, and she began to run the business from her apartment, selling weed and pills, even dope occasionally. She only sold dope to those who were already addicted though. She did have somewhat of a heart, although it grew smaller by the days in a life that continued to be bad.
On one particular night, Holly was only out to sell dope. She had been warned by a local diner she visited often that she should stop what she was doing earlier that day, it was going to get her in trouble, so she wasn't going to sell her body. She didn't have a good feeling that day, as if something was wrong. It hadn't been from what the man said, but his words only added to her feelings of premonition and concern. Jamie was out of town, visiting her Mother who was in the next town over, which put more emphasis on her being alone that night.
Holly always thought she could handle herself, so the man's words fell on semi-deaf ears. She needed to make money, and she couldn't just stay home because she was scared. She would have never made any money in her years of this profession. It was what she had to do to make a living and pay the bills, as well as all the nice things she liked to have. Even if she was putting her life on the line every night, she had been trained well. It was one of the only things she gave her former wicked pimp credit for.
What situation could arise that she hadn't already handled? She had been raped. She had been choked. Death would be a heaven to this. She was already experiencing Hell when she had to fuck immature boys at parties who had no clue how to please a woman and were bent on being too forceful, knocking her about in their cheap hotel rooms. It was the last bag she had. What could possibly be worst, she wanted to know. Well, prison was equally bad. She didn't like being someone's bitch, and because of her rap sheet and pretty face, she was usually made into one.
Business boomed that night. Drugs were selling like crazy. Everyone seemed to have a fix. She made $400 dollars and was running out of things to sell, but she had one last bag. She had grown greedy, wanting to monopolize on that night's fortune. She went out again, looking for a buyer in all the cars that passed by. She hung out at the gas station, but it seemed as though business was over for the night.
She headed home, the dope in her back pocket and the money in her bra. As she passed by the local motel on the sidewalk, a man got out of his car and came to her. He was older with jet black hair and a large belly. He looked to be about 5'9 to her 5'5. He called out to her sternly.
"Hey uh, what you sellin', girl?" he asked, waving her over.
She came down the sidewalk and entered the parking lot, walking to the SUV, which wasn't particularly nice, rather rusted. She shifted her hips and mashed her lips together. If he wasn't going to be friendly, she wasn't either.
"I got some good stuff if you know what I mean, something to get you through the night, make your mind escape," she said, selling it to the man who looked skeptical.
He wasn't too eager, but he dug her vibe and knew what she meant. She wasn't selling sex, but rather, drugs. He nodded to her, a signal that he wanted to see it. She came closer and slyly brought it from her back pocket. Pursing his lips, his brow raised and he pointed over to a hotel room.
"The money's in there, my friend's gonna want to see this. He's better at knowing what's real and what's full of sugar," the man told her, insinuating that she was to go with him.
"Like I told you, that ain't what I'm sellin', and he can come out with the money," she replied, not ready to be raped.
She didn't care if he was innocent of the fact. She had enough experience to know what could happen to her if she went into a hotel room with strange men, especially if there was another. That sounded like a set up, in her opinion. Holly eyed him carefully, watching him as he again, didn't seem too bent out of shape over her reluctance.
"Well, I know you're not going to give it to me to walk over to him, and he hates doing business out in the open, so I don't know what you want to do. I'd be willing to give you $100 if that's real," he offered, lifting his brows.
He seemed so doubtful, daring her to prove it by getting his friend's approval. The price was more than she was originally asking for. Sighing, Holly stuffed the bag into her pocket, going for it, even though everything in her mind opposed the decision. She was hungry for money and the chance to prove she always sold the real thing.
They walked over through the cars in the parking lot to the rooms, separated by a few feet in between the cabins. They all looked worn and beaten down by the years. Black mildew and dirt on the walls, the gutters swinging off the roofs, and the gold plate of the room numbers was tarnished and chipped. They came to a stop at room 14. Holly glanced around, seeing a few sets of eyes around. A man smoked a cigarette outside of she went in as he opened the door for her.
Inside, Holly found a quaint decor, typical of a cheap motel. There were 2 cardboard box type of beds, and on one of them sat a male older than the man leading her inside. He had salt and paper hair, wrinkly skin, but his body had a tall form, broad shoulders with a bit of a gut. A TV with a broke antennae sat on a plain wooden dresser. The flowery wallpaper was faded and aged to a dark yellow. The other man stood up, looking from her to the one behind her. He had bright blue eyes and thin lips. She stopped studying him and waited for the deal to be made, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.
"She's got the stuff," the man from outside said quickly, heading to the back of the room and rummaging around in his bag.
"Let's see it," the older man said, lifting a brow and folding his arms.
He wasn't too excited to see what she was selling, but he would be. Holly knew he would once he saw the cut of the crystals. She brought it out from her back pocket, twisting to face him again and shifting her hips as she held it out in her hand. He reached to take it, and she pulled it back.
"Not till I get the money," she told him, clenching the bag into her fist and staring into his eyes.
"Right, right," the man said, tapping his lips and turning his head, "Tommy, you got the money?"
He came back rummaging in his back pocket. His gut thrusted forth into the air, and he seemed to be hot in the heat of the room, which was obviously without an air condition. They both glistened a little. Holly waited, holding on tightly to the bag. She shifted her hips and watched Tommy's hand pull forth his wallet. She furrowed his brow remembering how he spoke of the money earlier. He said he didn't have it on him. Suddenly, she saw the flash of a badge as the two men told her to hand over the drugs.
"SPD, get down on the bed, now, do it now!" The older man yelled, bringing out his gun.
She dropped the bag and went for the door, but she was dragged back by her arms and thrown face down onto the bed. Her breath came out in gasps as one of them held her wrists and forced them down into her back. She blew the hair out of her eyes and let her had fall forward into the mattress. She was going to jail for sure.
"You got anything else on you, Holly Martin?" the second man asked, as a pair of hands patted her down, grazing the sides of her breasts, her waist, over her pockets in the front and back.
The older one flipped her over and ran his hands down her breasts, reaching into through the neck of her top and into her bra, going for the left cup first. Holly was startled and tried to jerk away.
"What the hell are you doin'?" She cried aghast at his actions.
"Checkin' for any more of that shit you try to sell to kids, slut. I know you probably like to stick it in here and make men cop a feel," he accused dryly, reaching into the right breast, finding her wad of bills.
"Aha," he said quietly, laughing as he tossed the wad in the air and caught it again. He stuck it in his pocket.
"No!" she yelled, adding a moment later, "I wasn't selling anything. It's just sugar. That's all! You'll see and you ain't keepin' that money. It's mine!"
"Shut the fuck up," the older one chastised, flipping her back onto her stomach.
She stuck her face down and listened to them talk. She had never experienced this sort of thing from cops. She regretted coming to Sweeten and going against her instincts.
"Yea, right, sugar," Tommy, or so he had been called, mocked, laughing with the other.
"Don't y'know sweetheart? You can't keep money that you get from selling illegal substances and pussy!" The older man shouted, igniting a laugh amongst them.
The two men exchanged high fives and more chuckles as she lay on the bed with her hands cuffed at her lower back. She turned her head on it's side and stared at the window, curtains covering the view of the outside world. She didn't know what she was going to do. She wished she heeded that morning's warning, but she hadn't. Now, she was stuck. Soon, they would bring her out for everyone to see and pushed down into a police escort. She knew the drill well.
"You gonna do the honors or should I?" Tommy asked.
"Fuck no, I'm doing it, get your gun," the other answered, chuckling.
The cuffs eased off her wrists and a hand flipped Holly onto her back. A .45 pointed at her as she straightened to see the men staring down at her. Their faces were masks of stern indifference. She didn't know what was going on. Was she being released? Her mind was boggled now.
"Take off your clothes, whore, we ain't taking you down to the station just yet," Tommy said as he held the gun steady.
Her eyes went wide, bulging from her sockets. Her jaw dropped down, and she stammered over what to say. They were cops. They were supposed to uphold the law! What was this? A joke? What if they weren't even cops?
"I ain't takin' off my clothes for nobody," she replied defiantly.
"You'll fuckin' do it or I'll blow your brains out, and believe me, Sweeten ain't like your hometown, slut. We put you to death for attacking cops down here, bitch. Now, get up and start taking off those clothes," Tommy ordered coolly.
The other one nodded and folded his arms, smirking at the girl as she slowly assumed the role of victim again. She didn't know what would happen. Usually, this happened with someone who didn't want to pay her. She would take off her clothes, or they would be ripped off. She would be thrown down and ravaged for hours.
Holly lifted her top over her head, unclasping the thin cotton bra. The 36 C tits popped out from their confines, rolling around in their juicy flesh. The men licked their lips and continued to watch, as she pushed down and wiggled out of her pants. Before she could take off the black g-string, they barked an order at her again.
"Turn around and stick that ass out, do it like the hooker you are," Tommy commanded, lifting up his gun and gesturing with a cocky grin.
Holly turned around. Her spine showed as she leaned over and her fingers, slipped underneath the strings on her hips and began to push.