A career cop and a wanna-be prostitute merge their lives.
It had been a very long day, surveilling a nerdy businessman type at the request of his equally worthless wife. But, I’d been hired to do it, so I did. She was convinced that her husband was fooling around on her because he’d been seen in the company of another woman, often, or at least she’d been told. Well, he had, but it was his ex-sister in law, a friend, and nothing nefarious was going on. Truth be told, I always enjoyed it when suspicious married people paid me a ton of money only for them to find out that they were wrong in their suspicions. I was in a sports bar, having dinner and a couple of drinks before I would head home and get some sleep.
How did I end up here? After high school, I joined the Marines, who made me an MP and, later, an investigator. It was a logical fit for a Black, 6 foot 6 inch, 225 pound, 19 year old who had been a high school football linebacker. After four years, I tired of the military’s strict regime, got out, and joined the FBI. I lasted there four years, only to find out that the regime of civilian law enforcement was twice as strict as the military’s. So, I decided to live by my own rules, got a private investigator’s license and now made a living charging way too much money to do things people wouldn’t do themselves. My name is Jacob, but everyone calls me Jake.
From my booth seat, I could see several guys at the bar, watching football games on the wide screen TVs.
So, in walks this redheaded female. She couldn’t have been more obviously a hooker if she had it tattooed on her forehead. Tank top and a short, no really short, skirt that barely covered her ass. She was really pretty, 5 foot 4, long red hair and a little on the skinny side, maybe 105 pounds.
She parked her ass on a stool next to one of the guys at the bar. They talked; he laughed and obviously blew off whatever offer she was making him. I watched to see what her next move would be when the brazen little bitch grabbed his wallet off the bar and slipped it into her purse.
Hooking, I don’t have any particular feelings about since, in my mind, it is a victimless crime. Theft, however, pisses me off. The guy she had been talking to figured out where his wallet went and grabbed her as the bartender was calling the cops. She was screaming that he was hurting her, so I decided it might be time to intervene.
I towered over the guy even with him sitting on an elevated bar stool. I told him to let go of her and I would make sure she got arrested for prostitution. He gauged my size versus his and decided to comply. I retrieved his wallet from her purse and gave it back to him.
I called the bartender over and said, “Look guys. When the cops get here, just tell them that she was soliciting and not about the theft. She’ll get what she deserves that way and won’t end up with a record. I’ll explain why after the cops take her away.”
They looked at each other and, even though they didn’t know me, my tone told them that I wasn’t lying and agreed.
The cops came, took statements from the three of us and left with her, promising to bring her back in an hour or two.
I was left with two puzzled looking men, so I explained. The State had decided that they didn’t want prostitutes walking the streets, but also that prostitution didn’t warrant a criminal record and jail time. So, they had instituted a corporal punishment program for prostitutes. At the jail, she would not see a magistrate, not have bail set, and not get a court date. She will be stripped, strapped down to a spanking bench, and get twenty strokes from an old-fashioned razor strap. Afterwards, she’d be dressed and brought back to where she was arrested – here. Any subsequent arrests for prostitution would result in the same treatment, except the stroke count would go up by 10 for each additional arrest. Eventually, each girl will decide that hooking isn’t a good way of life.
Their only response was “Wow. I’m going to wait around to see that.”
“Just so you’ll know there sport, the law also provides for the john to get the same treatment if he is caught trying to hire a prostitute. Yes, she’s going to be one unhappy little girl the next time you see her, but so would have you if you had taken her up on her offer.” And, with that, I sat back down to finish my dinner and surveillance report.
It was around 90 minutes later when the cops brought her back. She was still sobbing and both hands were trying to rub the fire and itching out of her ass. She was putting on quite a show.
She walked along the bar with the bartender and other patrons laughing at her; I could see she was not only sore, but very embarrassed. When she got to the booth where I was sitting, I said, “Sit down.”
“Why?”
“Because I told you to,” and, with that, she gingerly lowered her sore ass onto the seat across from me.
I don’t know why, but I felt sorry for her and wanted to make sure she was OK. She had gotten the punishment she deserved and now it was time to move on.
“Let me see your driver’s license.”
“Why?”
“Look girlie. You got the whoop’in you deserved and you know you deserved it. Now, I want to try to help you, so choke up the driver’s license.”
The driver’s license said that her name was Lucy and that she was 24 years old. I looked at the license, then looked at her and said, “This is a fake license. How old are you really? And, is your name really Lucy?”
“I am 24 and my name is Lucy.”
“OK, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to start telling me the truth right now or I’m going to call the cops and have them come back and pick you up for using a fake ID. It’s Friday night, so you’ll sit in jail until at least Monday, see the judge, and probably get released for time served. But, you’ll have spent the weekend in jail. Which one do you want?”
She lowered her head and more tears filled her eyes. “OK. My name is Lucy and I just turned 18.”
“See, that wasn’t too painful, was it? Are you hungry?” I knew the answer by looking at her, but asked anyway.
“Yes please,” and I passed her a menu and called the waitress over.
“Order what you want for dinner, but be careful not to order so much that it makes you sick. I can see by looking at you that you’re haven’t been eating regularly.”
She ordered her dinner and began eating. By the way she tried to eat everything at once, I knew she was really hungry and, a couple of times, I had to warn her to slow down so she didn’t puke.
“Why were you arguing with the guy at the bar before?”
“I told him I wanted $500 and he got mad before I could tell him why.”
“OK. $500 is pretty steep. What’s special about you that you were asking so much?”
“I’m a virgin. One of the girls I hang with told me that $500 wasn’t too much to ask for someone to pop me.”
“My god girl. What kind of people are you hanging around with and how did you decide that hooking was the right career for a virgin?
She teared up. “My parents put me out when I was 17 because they didn’t like that I dated some Black guys. They said only a slut would date a Black and they weren’t about to put up with a slut living in their house. They put my stuff in a garbage bag and put me out on the street. I ran into some prostitutes who took me in and took care of me for a while, but then they said I needed to start earning some money if I wanted to stay with them. And, that’s how I got here. I have made some money but only by doing blow jobs.”
“Damn, that’s harsh. Both from your parents and from your friends. So, where do your friends live. I’ll drive you back there.”
“Oh I can take the bus, if you’ll just loan me a few dollars for bus fare.”
That sounded like twenty pounds of BS so I asked her, “You can’t really go back to living with your friends, can you?”
That question broke her down. She started crying and said, “Not without making some money for them.”
Despite the tough way I lived my life, I had a soft spot for helpless females. I said, “All right. You’re going to come home with me tonight and we’ll get things sorted out in the morning.”
“Oh I don’t know if I should.”
“Look sweety. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m the one who has been looking out for you this evening. Yes, you got your butt torn up, because you needed it. Now, it’s time for you to recognize who is on your side and who isn’t and do what you’re told.”
“I know. I just never had anyone who wanted to help me without wanting something in return.”
I handed her a napkin to wipe her eyes. “Now you have. Let’s go. You need a shower and to have your clothes washed and we both need some sleep.” With that, we got up, got to my SUV, and headed home. Once we got out of the smoke-filled sports bar and into clean air, I realized how rank she really smelled. I guess her friends weren’t big on taking showers or washing clothes.”
It was about a twenty minute drive my home outside town. It was an older home that I had bought from an estate sale. I was pretty proud of it and was gradually fixing it up.
Once inside, I got one of my sports jerseys that I figured would cover her up. I walked her to the master bath, which I had just had remodeled. Inside was a huge walk-in shower; I liked nice showers. I told her to go in, take off all her clothes and put them outside the door so I could wash them. Then, take a long hot shower, put the jersey on, and come on out.
If she hadn’t figured anything else out, she was at least to the point where she accepted that I was on her side and was doing what she was told. She went into the bathroom, closed the door and, a few minutes later, I heard the door open and close as a pile of clothes appeared outside the door.
Luckily, I put on a pair of rubber gloves before retrieving her clothes to put them in the washer. When I did, her panties were crawling with live critters, otherwise known as ‘the crabs.’ I put her clothes in a garbage bag, then went back to the bathroom.
I knocked on the door. “Lucy, open the door. I need to see you.”
“But, I’m not dressed.”
“I know kiddo, but this is important.”
She opened the door and I stepped in. “Haven’t you noticed something biting you between the legs?”
“She blushed, embarrassed, and said, “I have. But, I thought it would go away.”
“It won’t baby. You’ve picked up the crabs somewhere. The live ones are biting you and also laying eggs in your pussy hair. Then, the eggs hatch and there’s more crabs to bite you and lay more eggs. It’s a never ending cycle and there’s only one way to stop it.”
She started sniffling. “How?”
“We’re going to have to get rid of your pussy hair and keep you shaved for at least a couple of weeks. That will get rid of the place the crabs are hiding and also the eggs.”
She had been holding her hand over her crotch as we talked. “Move your hand.”
I think she had finally decided I was one of the good guys and complied. She had enough pubic hair to knit a rug; I guessed she had never even bothered to trim it.
“Get back into the shower. We’re going to take care of this right now. You won’t start healing until you’re shaved smooth, front and back.”
She got back in the shower as I gathered shaving cream and a razor. I told her to spread her legs as wide as she could, then lean back and hold onto the shower bars.
Starting just under her belly button, I began shaving medium size areas , doing each until all the hair was gone. Immediately after removing the hair, red bite marks began appearing where I had shaved. She didn’t budge, even when I needed to move her pussy lips around to get all of the hair around them. She did moan when my fingers brushed her clit though.
I had to shave about two inches down her thighs to get all the hair. Then, I told her to turn around, spread her legs, bend over, and grab her ankles. It was the first time I had gotten a look at her butt since her trip across the spanking bench. It was a mess. Most of the redness was faded, but the dark blue and purple deep bruises, that would stay there a lot longer, were prominent.
Anyway, back to the shaving and soon she was as bald and smooth as the day she was born. I told her to finish her shower, then put the jersey on and come out to the living room. I also made sure that whatever hair was on the floor of the shower was bagged up or washed down the drain.
I had pulled out some antiseptic cream and, when she got to the living room, I had her lay on the couch with her legs spread while I swabbed the cream over her bites; then had her get on all fours and did the same between her ass cheeks.
“Tomorrow, we’re going to go buy you some new, more appropriate clothes for an 18 year old who isn’t hooking for a living. What do you think?”
“I’d love that.”
“And, I’m also going to start teaching you how to take better care of yourself. I think it’d be best if you stayed shaved for quite a while, maybe permanently. What do you think about that?”
“I think I’m going to be embarrassed because a man needs to teach me female hygiene, but I understand.”
“OK, let’s get some sleep. Come with me and I’ll show you to the guest bedroom.”
She laughed. “No one ever wanted me in a bedroom because I was their guest before.”
I got her settled and went to bed but didn’t sleep well that night. I certainly didn’t need a female to be responsible for right now in my life, but damn, this girl was literally helpless. If someone didn’t take her under their wing, she’d likely end up in prison or dead. What to do?
I woke up the next morning to the smell of her making hot coffee. I sat down at the kitchen table and Lucy made us both a cup.
“OK. Let’s start with the basics. What’s your full name?”
“Lucy May Carlton.”
“Mine is Jake. I don’t suppose you have a copy of your birth certificate, do you?”
“Actually, I do.” She showed it to me. She hadn’t lied about her age. She had just turned 18 two weeks ago.”
“Do you actually have a driver’s license or permit?”
“I had a permit, but it expired.”
“Alright. So we have some paperwork to take care of including you getting a state ID.”
“I’m not taking you back to where you were staying. They don’t care about you. I will take care of you here, if you want, but there’s going to be rules, lots of them, that you’re going to have to follow. What do you think?”
“I’d love that, but I don’t know why you want to help me.”
“Neither do I, but we’ll deal with that later.”
“Rule 1 is not more hooking, not ever. If you do, I’ll turn you in myself so you can get the 30 stroke version of the razor strap.”
“I never want to feel that strap on my bottom again. Not never.”
“That doesn’t mean you might not get your little butt warmed up if you aren’t good. You understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“OK, give me your phone and what size dress do you wear? The clothes you had are not acceptable and we can’t go out shopping for new ones with you wearing a sports jersey.”
She told me she wore a size 2 and handed me her phone without an argument.
“I’m going to run out and get you a sun dress so we can go shopping. You can pick out anything you want as long as it’s appropriate for an 18 year old young lady. How does that sound?”
She just started crying and thanked me.
And, that started our first day. She picked out nice clothes, new underwear and the toiletries she needed. Today was Saturday, so there wasn’t anything else we could do for the rest of the weekend except get to know each other better.
Later, she asked me, “Would it be OK if I just stayed undressed. The itching from those bug bites is horrible and panties pressing against them makes it worse.”
“Sure. Matter of fact, I usually hang around the house naked too.” And, with that, I pulled my clothes off. When she saw my cock, she couldn’t help staring. Soft, I’m about 7 inches and 2 in diameter. Hard, I’ve got 10 inches and 2-1/2 in diameter of woman pleasing, uncut, Black meat.
“Wow, I’ve never seen someone so big before. I dated some Black guys in high school, but never saw any of them undressed and, even when I was doing blow jobs for a living, it was always with white guys.”
Later that evening, we were on the couch watching TV. I was sitting up and Lucy was laying on her side with her head on my lap. Suddenly, she reached between my legs and pulled my cock up so it was alongside her face. It felt good, and warm, so we watching TV that way for a long time.
“Can I come to bed with you tonight?”
“No. Something we’re going to work really hard on Lucy is your attitude about sex. You’re sex is not for you to sell, or because you think you owe somebody something, or because you’re doing someone a favor. Your sex is so you can be more intimate with someone you at least like so that both of you can feel closer to each other.”
“But, I itch so bad, down there. It’s driving me nuts. It’s worse because my hair is gone. I think I want to stay hairless though; it makes the feelings between my legs so much more intense.”
“We can fix the itch, but the sex is for the right person at the right time.”
“Please help me.”
I took her left hand and pressed her thumb against her mouth. “Suck on your thumb.”
She wanted relief so bad that she didn’t question me. Then, I started massaging her tits, rolling the nipples between my fingers. I hadn’t paid much attention to her tits before, but they were nice. Not fully filled in yet, but maybe a small “B” cup topped with eraser sized red nipples, nipples that were stiffening.
Her thumb had just been in her mouth, but now she was starting to suck on it, moving it in and out of her mouth slowly.
I slid my hand down her belly towards her pussy. Instinctively, she raised one leg to spread her legs wide. I covered her pussy with my hand and began massaging it. Gently, I spread the lips and found her fuck hole, which was already getting wet. I pushed one finger in slowly until I felt the resistance of her hymen. Careful not to go any deeper, I began slowly finger-fucking her as her hips started to buck and the sucking became more intense. As I slowly reamed her birthing channel, I used my thumb to start massaging her clit.
Her heat turned her chest red and her hips bucked wildly, desperate for relief. Suddenly her whole body tightened up; she grabbed my arm with both hands, clamped her thighs together to hold my hand against her pussy, and screamed as her cum hit her hard. She gushed girlee juices all over my hand and began panting as she gradually came down from her first ever orgasm. I slowly removed my hand from her pussy and pressed my wet fingers against her mouth. At first, she resisted, then the smell of her own juice caused her mouth to slowly open; she gently sucked my fingers and started to cry a little.
“I. I never knew it could be like that. I just exploded inside. Even when I was doing blowjobs, I never felt like that.”
“That’s because you were doing the blowjobs for the wrong reason.”
After she calmed down, I patted her on the butt, causing her to wince a little. “Off to bed with you.”
I sat for a while, just thinking. My feelings about this girl were changing. Now, I had to determine if they were genuine or if I was just being sympathetic towards a girl who seemed hopelessly lost. I went to bed.
Monday, we started getting things done for Lucy. We got her a state ID card, got her enrolled in a GED program, and had a doctor appointment with an OB to get her on birth control. The doctor recommended a cervical ‘cap’ and got it installed in her without breaking her hymen.
Tuesday, we went to the depilatory spa to start her laser hair removal treatments. Out in the lobby, we talked before she went in the back. “It’s going to be embarrassing for you in there. You’re going to be completely exposed with women and men you don’t know being able to see you. You just do exactly what you’re told.”
“Yes Jake.”
“Don’t make them have to come get me because you aren’t cooperating.”
“I’ll be good. I promise”.
She was in back about 2-1/2 hours. When I saw her again, she was walking kind of bow-legged, had tears in her eyes and was holding her panties instead of wearing them. “I’m so sore. I feel like my whole crotch is sunburned.”
The attendant told me she would have to probably come back at least one more time to get the hairs that didn’t die on the first treatment, but that would be in two weeks or so. He gave me some ointment to sooth the skin and we left.
I had a towel on the car seat for her to sit on and we went home. When she got out of the car, the whole towel was covered with short, black hair roots; the hairs that had been burned, killed, and had fallen off.
Four months went by and things were going well, although I had to turn her over my knee once in a while for screwing around on her schoolwork. She had gotten her second laser treatment and now, from her belly button to halfway down her thighs, she was smooth, white, hairless, and soft as a baby’s bottom. The bruises on her ass had fully healed and now she sported a cute, teenage, bubble-butt. Around the house, we were always nude, something she had gotten accustomed to, and I masturbated her every evening, which she loved and I enjoyed doing to her. I had given up fighting my feelings for her and I think she felt the same. We hadn’t had sex yet, but we both knew that was in our near future.
One night the weather turned to crap; there was lightning and house-shaking thunder that started after we had gone to bed. Sometime during the night, she came into my room wrapped in a blanket. She said she was scared and could she sleep with me, which reminded me that she really wasn’t fully grown yet mentally. I told her “sure.” She dropped the blanket and slid her naked body up against mine, lying on her side and leaning on me. She was shaking some, so I started rubbing her back gently until she fell asleep.
The next morning, I woke up to her sucking my cock which had already responded and was now 10 inches of uncut, telephone pole hard, blackness.
“I want you. And, I want you because you’re the man I’ve always dreamed of, not because I owe you anything.”
With that, she straddled my hips, rose up, and aimed my cock at her pussy. She rubbed the head against her wetness to get it lubed, then lowered herself until about an inch of my dick pushed into her. She winced, hesitated there for a minute, then held her breath and let her hips fall, burying about 4 inches of black into her belly.
My steel rod hard cock blasted through her hymen, shredding it. She screamed, then just started panting while holding herself from moving any further down.
I put my hands under her armpits and lowered her down until she was laying flat on top of my chest. I didn’t force any more cock into her, but just held her tight and kissed her. I could feel her pussy squeezing my dick, almost painfully but also pleasantly.
“Just lay here Lucy and, when you’re ready, slide your body down to bury more cock into you. Don’t do it all at once. Just go back and forth.”
And, back and forth she went, pushing another inch or so into herself on each stroke until our pubic bones connected. She had taken it all, to her amazement and mine. She didn’t stop though. Back and forth, back and forth she went, until I felt my balls tighten and I shot rope after rope of cum into her belly. When she felt the superheated liquid entering her, her eyes rolled back, she wrapped her arms around my neck and just started whimpering – not sad whimpering, but happy whimpering.
And so, she was mine. Somehow the two most unlikely people had come together and were going to stay together.
A couple of months went by with us being happier than either of us had known. I was sure I wanted to keep her and she was sure she wanted to stay.
One morning I was sleeping in and Lucy had gone off to her GED classes. When I woke up, there was a note on the bed stand along with a small object. I had to turn the light on, but then realized it was her cervical cap.
The note said, ‘I don’t want this anymore, but I’ll put it back in if you want Let me know. Love, Lucy.’
I thought for a second, then threw the note and the cap in the trash. She wanted to have my baby – no, our baby – and I couldn’t have been happier.
A few months later, we were back at the sports bar eating dinner. The door opened and the cops ushered in a hysterical young woman who was frantically trying to rub the pain out of her ass. Along with her was a male doing the ‘I’ve just been whooped’ dance as he tried to sooth his damaged tail.
I recognized him as the smart ass who had grabbed Lucy months earlier on the day I met her. Evidently, he had forgotten the warning I gave him.
Lucy leaned against me and said, “It’s hard to believe that was me.”
I reached down and rubbed her volley ball size baby bump. “Yeah, but it never will be again.”
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