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Casting Couch


written by:
Thomas B

My name is Violet Van der Hyden and I'm a prostitute. My clients and there have been many call me by my professional name, Beaver.

You might wonder why I'm proud of my career. The truth is I work for a little-known federal government agency.

Let me explain.

When I was eighteen, I was homeless and hungry. Men, not boys, asked me out. Those same men wanted to fuck me; I was reluctant. I was reluctant until they offered me money.

They wanted to fuck me because they thought I was pretty. I don't know about that. I'm 5'10" tall with the longest legs you've ever seen. I'm blonde, and my bush is reddish blonde. Sadly, nobody wants to eat a prostitute's pussy. Men tell me that my 34Ds are beautiful and they can't wait to get their hands on them.

Since they were paying, I let them. Of course, for the money they were paying they wanted more than just my tits.

Within a year, I was no longer hungry or homeless. I'd become proficient in the basics: fucking and sucking.

It wasn't hard. I mean, I worked three weeks a month and averaged three clients a night. That's about five hundred clients a year. I got lots of practice, and lots of repeat business.

Two years later, I'd been arrested a half a dozen times. The fines were manageable, but spending nights in jail was not.

So, when a stranger bailed me out after I'd been sentenced to thirty days in jail, I was grateful. I offered to thank him the only way I knew how. "That's not what I want, Beaver," he said, "my name is Brandon Green, I want you to work for me."

I knew girls who had pimps. I didn't want or need one. Basically, I said, "fuck off."

Mr. Green rescinded my bail, but every day for the next week, he stopped in the county jail to see me. "Beaver, my offer still stands."

If you don't know, jails and county jails in particular are a shitty place to be. A week later, I'd run out of fuck offs and agreed to listen. "Listen, that's all."

"Beaver or should I call you Miss Van der Hyden?"

"Suit yourself."

"At it's very basic level, I'm a cop."

"What? You want me to work for the police?" I gave him another fuck off, but I couldn't go back to jail; I just couldn't. I listened.

"I work in the federal sex crimes division and I want you to help us catch sexual predators. We'll teach you how to act."

I laughed. "Mr. Green, in my line of work, every girl I know is the world's best actress."

"We'll make you better."

"Let me be blunt, Mr. Green, you want me to fuck and suck for the police, but not fuck and suck the police?"

"Exactly."

"That's a new one."

TO BE CONTINUED

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The author of this story: Thomas B

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