Faking It

Exhausted, Lydia trudged up the creaky stairs to her dingy studio apartment. Her entire body ached in protest as she unlocked the door with her rusty key, the musty scent of her apartment greeting her as she opened the door. She slammed the door shut and swiftly turned the deadbolt before sinking down against the doorframe.

"Come on Liddy, be a big girl. Wipe those tears away, pull up your panties, and continue on with life." She grumbled to herself as she wiped away the tears that were streaking down her cheeks, flinching as her hand brushed over a bruise on her cheek bone.

"That prick better not have messed up the merchandise." She let out a low, guttural sound of frustration before hauling herself up from the ground and heading towards the tiny kitchen. As she walked, she kicked off her high heels and tossed her bag onto the couch.

As she rummaged through her cupboards looking for something to eat, Lydia realized she'd need to go grocery shopping soon. Both her pantry and fridge were nearly empty. Spotting a lone pack of ramen near the back of the cupboard, Lydia snagged it and set it down on the counter, along with a chipped white bowl, and a fork that had seen better days. She walked over to the stove and switched on the kettle to boil some water before exiting the kitchen and making her way back to the living room of her apartment.

Grabbing her bag off the couch, Lydia emptied its contents out onto her small table. Karl, the man who'd roughed her up, had left a small wad of cash on the nightstand, before quickly making his escape. The cash was hush money. He didn't want Lydia calling Mia, her madame, and informing her of his treatment. If Lydia snitched, Karl- who was currently on his third strike- would be permanently removed from Mia's master list. Finding what she was searching for, Lydia picked up the cash wad and unraveled it, quickly counting the bills. Karl had left her $400. Lydia let out a sigh and decided not to rat Karl out this time. He was a regular and she needed all the extra cash she could get.

From her kitchen, the shrill whistle of her kettle pierced the air, indicating that the water had finally reached a boiling point.

Lydia walked over to her television and moved the rug beside it over, uncovering a loose floorboard. Without much prying, the floorboard came up and Lydia grabbed the shoebox from within. She quickly opened the box and began to sift through the money inside, $2,600. With the additional $400 from Karl, Lydia would have just have enough to cover her mom's medical expenses for the month. Her eyes started to water once more. While she was relieved that her mother's hospital costs would be covered for the month, she knew she'd have to scavenge around for food, and her gas would likely get cut due to nonpayment. Despite working long hours and taking on more clients, Lydia couldn't seem to make enough money to support both her ailing mother and herself. The weight of this responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders, leaving her torn between caring for her family and making ends meet. She felt trapped in an endless cycle of financial strain and guilt.

Before her mother's car accident, Lydia had worked at a quaint little restaurant downtown during the mid-morning, early afternoon shift. When her shift ended she'd head off to school at the community college where she was taking classes to obtain her business degree. But when her mother was hit by a run-away driver and placed in a medically induced coma, all of Lydia's plans of finishing school had gone out the window. Her mother didn't have medical insurance and since the driver hadn't stopped there was no way to charge them with the medical expenses. Lydia dropped her classes and picked up more shifts at the restaurant, but before she knew it she was up to her eyeballs in medical debt and behind on the mortgage payment. Knowing that there was no way she'd be able to keep up on the mortgage for her childhood home, Lydia ended up selling it to the highest bidder. Luckily her mother hadn't been upside on her home loan, so there had been some extra funds from the sale of the house, but those funds didn't last long and waitressing just wasn't bringing in enough income to provide for both a studio apartment and paying for medical debt at a long term care facility. Unable to handle all the stress that had been thrown at her, Lydia ended up having a breakdown at the diner during one of her shifts, and eventually confided with one of her coworkers about her financial struggles. The coworker ended up telling her about a side gig she'd picked up to help pay her way through classes. She was an escort at Mia Novella's Escort Services. She told Lydia that her cousin had gotten her a gig and that her cousin also worked there, but full-time, and brought home an average of $5000 a week.

When Lydia went home that night she looked up Mia Novella's Escort Service and gave them a ring. With a single phone call, a brief face-to-face meeting, and a series of physical health evaluations, she was offered the job. It was hands down the easiest experience she'd ever had when it came to searching for a job. Even her brief stint in fast-food had a longer application process. And now here she was, not even a year later, sleeping with random men and occasionally attending events with the more elite clientele. In the beginning, Lydia didn't sleep with anyone. She didn't want to give up on her own moral code, but she quickly realized that just by dating the men she wasn't bringing home nearly enough money. Even now, that she was sleeping with them, she barely brought home enough to cover the expenses.

Lydia pushed her lengthy blonde locks away from her face before placing the box back in its secret spot. As she stood up from where she was kneeling on the floor, she made a mental note to head to the hospital and pay her mother's most recent bill. If she paid in cash, she received a twenty-percent discount, which worked great for her since most of her money was given to her in cash form anyway. She let out another hefty sigh, the days events still weighing heavily on her mind.

"Come on, Lydia. You've got this. Stop moping about your situation. Crying isn't going to make anything better." She muttered to herself as she paced back and forth in her empty apartment, her jaw clenching tightly as she tried to starve off the tears. She knew she shouldn't be talking to herself. She didn't want to appear crazy, but it was a habit she had picked up recently, a way to hype herself up in moments of doubt or stress. The sound of her own voice gave her some sense of company as she faced the quiet solitude of her surroundings. Her footsteps echoed off the walls as she tried to drown out the deafening silence. If she had more time in the day, and definitely more money, she would get a pet, but those odds were not in her favor.

Wandering back into the kitchen, Lydia poured the hot water from the kettle, into her bowl of ramen and grabbed a fork. She quickly scarfed down her noodles, throwing the bowl and fork into the sink, and headed toward the bathroom, for a much needed shower. Showering was her favorite part of the day. During her shower, when she was able to wash all of the filth of the day away, she felt like the woman she was before her mother's car accident.

Lydia quickly stripped off her clothes and threw them in the small laundry bin she kept next to the linen closet. As she cautiously entered the bathroom, her gaze immediately fell upon her reflection in the mirror. A pained grimace contorted her features as she took in the sight of her busted lip and the beginnings of a deep bruise forming around her eye. The harsh fluorescent light only emphasized the severity of her injuries, painting them in stark shadows against her pale skin. She could not help but wince at the sight, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over her for letting herself get hurt like this. Quickly opening up her medicine cabinet, she looked for her stash of coverup to see if there was still enough left to make her look at least semi decent for work tomorrow. No one would hire a "rental girlfriend" who looked like she had been beaten black and blue, and Lydia could not afford to take any days off. While she searched for the cover up, her thoughts drifted to the incident that had caused the bruising on her face.

" I said strip, you filthy whore," Karl snarled, slapping Lydia's ass.

"Oh, is this what you want, Daddy?" Lydia asked, biting her lip and widening her eyes, in an attempt to make herself appear innocent-like. She slowly pulled down the straps on her tank top and tucking them beneath her arms, exposing the tops of her breast.

"Mmm much better. Now that's a Good girl. Show Daddy your tits." Karl groaned, undoing his belt buckle, popping the button on pants, lowering his zipper, and pulling his already hardened cock out, slowly stroking himself while he watched Lydia undress.

Lydia popped her breasts out of her shirt, giving her nipples a gentle tug and squeeze while letting out a small moan. Seductively, she let her tank top slink down past her waist, revealing smooth skin and a toned stomach. Her hand glided down, teasingly stopping at the edge of her skirt's waistband before slipping inside with slow, deliberate movements.

"Get over here," Karl snarled, reaching out and grabbing Lydia by the arm, pulling toward him, "Get on your knees you little slut and beg for Daddy's cock."

Lydia slowly dropped down to her knees, placing her hands on Karl's thighs and tilted her head so she was looking up at him. "Please, Daddy." She begged with her bottom lip jotting out, "Please can I suck your cock?"

Lydia knew exactly what to do and how to behave with Karl. This wasn't their first rodeo. Karl had become a regular of hers pretty early on in her "escort career". Karl loved getting his dick sucked, and he was also incredibly aggressive. He fucked Lydia roughly because he couldn't fuck his wife like that. Society would frown upon it if the governor's wife began showing up to events with bruises around her neck and wrists.

Ignoring her plea, Karl rose from his seat and grabbed Lydia's head, forcing her mouth onto his throbbing member as he started to aggressively thrust into her throat. He kept trying to get her to deep throat him, giving her no time to prepare for his sudden intrusion. When Lydia gagged on his cock, unable to take him any deeper, he slapped her cheek repeatedly, trying to get her to open her mouth up more so he could fuck her deeper. Tears sprang to Lydia's eyes and it only increased Karl's enjoyment. He loved watching her cry.

With one final grunt he spilt his hot seed down Lydia's throat. "What a filthy whore," Karl snarled. "Here," He said tossing a wad of cash at her, "For your troubles." And then he zipped his pants up and left the room.

As tears splashed down her cheeks, Lydia was brought back to the present. The knot in her stomach twisted tighter as she thought of how low she'd sunk, how her morals had been thrown out the door for money. Looking up at her open medicine cabinet, she grabbed her bottle of mouthwash and cleansed her mouth for the umpteenth time since Karl had came in it. She doubted her mouth would ever feel clean again.

While spitting the mouth rinse into the sink, Lydia's phone lit up, making a chiming noise, signaling that shed received a text message. It was from Mia. Lydia quickly dried her hands on her towel and picked up her phone so she could check the message.

"Karl wants to schedule you again. He said same time next week. Are you available? Also, you'll need to come into the office for your weekly STD testing."

Lydia shuddered at the thought of having to see Karl again, but she knew she needed to keep him on her client list, he was her highest paying client and he always requested her at least once a week.

"Yes, I'm available. And Okay. I'll come into the office tomorrow. I'll be there around 10."

"Perfect."

Seeing that Mia's responding message needed no further reply, Lydia shut her phone off and started up the shower. She turned the water on full blast, ignoring the cold water faucet completely. She waited a few minutes before stepping into the shower and fully embracing the heat, marveling at how instantly turned her ivory skin a shade of lobster red.Closing off her mind, Lydia relaxed in the shower, knowing the pain would only last a few minutes until her body became use it. The hot water was a form of self punishment for her. Its heat burned away her sins, cleansing her soul to help her make it through another day.