yes

“Look,” he said – “It’s only temporary. If I send you out there without it you’ll stand out a mile. You’ll have every guest in the house chasing after you!”

Shit. Oh shit. He was right. I had to look every bit the whore. Otherwise they would see me. I needed to be invisible.

I bent over slowly, resignedly, and offered him my buttocks.

I closed my eyes when I felt his fingers on my bottom. I felt the nib of the pen pressing into my flesh. He was careful, deliberate, slow. Too slow. What could be taking him so long?

“Don’t worry – you’ll get your permanent number soon enough,” he said as he worked.

“Good, that’s that done,” he said with satisfaction when he was through, and he gave my newly marked bum-cheek a congratulatory pat.

Strangely I found myself wanting to see it, to see what I looked like numbered, marked as a whore.

“You are Whore 94,” he informed me. “That is your name while you wear that number. What is your name?”

I looked at him quizzically. Did I really have to say it?

”Whore 94,” I obliged him.

“That’s right,” he said. “And while you’re out there address all men with ‘Sir’, all women with ‘Miss’. What’s your name?”

“Whore 94,” I responded meekly, “Sir.”

“Good girl. Right, now get out there and put on a good show,” he said jollily, giving my bottom another pat.

It was time. Time to dance. Time to be a whore.

I slid out through the curtain into the club proper. My God. I was a part of the show now. I was one of them. One of the whores. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Where should I go? No-one had told me where to go! I turned back to the curtain, feeling lost.

“Your boss will introduce you to Mr. Khani,” the manager said, waving me away from him.

I should present myself to the CEO dressed like this then? He would see me numbered as a whore. Oh God. I couldn’t face him like this, could I? I couldn’t do it. But I had **** now, did I?

Nervously I made my first few steps over towards the alcove where I had left the CEO. My hips swayed as I walked. I felt eyes on me from all directions. I was on display. In public. A whore.

“Ah, Whore 94!” The CEO called out when he saw me trotting towards him. “I was starting to wonder what had happened to you!”

How did he know my number? He hadn’t seen it yet – couldn’t have.

I knew that if I were a whore, a real whore I mean, then I should curtsy and start dancing for him. I also knew that if I were in his private office I would be obliged to do the same, since I had signed up to that. But here, in public, I was under no such obligation.

Yet I did curtsy. And I did start to dance. Why? Why did I do that? To blend in perhaps, to remain invisible. I hoped that was the reason. What other explanation could there be?

Two other whores danced for the CEO with me. We displayed our breasts to him, we wriggled out bottoms, swayed our hips. I was playing whore to the man who had spanked and **** me. What a disgrace I was.

“Very nice,” he said as I wriggled my 94 for him. “I’m proud of you Elizabeth.”

It felt good hearing him call me by my name. I wriggled more teasingly, forgetting I was there, in that bar, dancing topless in public, numbered as one of the whores.

“Unfortunately,” he said in a loud voice, “You shouldn’t be here dancing for me at all – I’ll introduce you to Mr. Khani junior– son of the owner of this very club, and one of the largest investors in our company.”

He stood up, moved his hand down to my bum-cheeks and held it there, guiding me across the club like that. I shivered as I remembered the last time he had held my buttocks in his palm. I felt myself wriggling on him as I clip-clopped alongside him in my heels. He was delivering me to Mr. Khani.

“Look, I shouldn’t tell you this,” he half-whispered as he steered me along, “but a word of advice, if I may. Mr. Khani’s father is incredibly powerful – both he and his son are well used to getting exactly what they want. Don’t look at him directly, don’t speak, always curtsey before doing anything. Obey his every command. Just act like the other whores, basically.”

I thought I was just going to dance for him? That was all wasn’t it?

“Come on Elizabeth,” he said, apparently reading my thoughts. “You’re a big girl now. You know what ‘dancing’ means in a place like this. This is not just a run-of-the-mill strip-club where good little office boys ogle and stare before slipping their green into your knickers. This place is for real.”

He was right: I knew. Or at least I should have known. I still didn’t know what I was doing, why I was going through with it. I wasn’t drunk, was I? Did I want to do it? Was that it? Did I want to try out being a whore? Was this some kind of bizarre self-exploration?

“These people own everything, Elizabeth,” The CEO went on. “They own property, business, land. They own the food on your table. They own the media. They own the universities. They own people. They own all that you see here. Including these knickers.”

His palm tightened around my bum-cheeks.

“Seriously Elizabeth,” he said, slowing our pace to a crawl. “Behave yourself this evening, don’t deny them anything. You have to convince yourself that they own you for the evening. Give yourself to them. Don’t resist them.”

He wrapped his fingers around the material of my panties above the crack of my bottom, clutched the material in his grip, and drew me to a standstill. He seemed tense, anxious, suddenly.

“If you resist,” his voice hardened, “they can make you disappear – you know – disappear - forever.”

His grip on my panties loosened. I was dumbstruck. They could do that? They could make people disappear?

“Stay alive, Elizabeth,” he said as we resumed our progress across the club floor.

I was in up to my neck. Deeper than that. I was being swept along with tide. I was drowning. What had I gotten myself into??

We arrived at a dimly lit alcove where a group of distinguished looking Middle-Eastern looking men were enjoying champagne, girls, food, cocaine. Can I go through with this and be a whore? Can I let him do as he wishes? Oh god I am so humiliated... but then again the money I needed the money for school and for my parents... I fought back tears as i adjusted my whore panties and pressed forward...