Previously: Hannah met Ben's new girlfriend, Gwen. Ashok died and Harry continued to watch Hannah - from a distance. Stephanie recommended Belle for friend, Ross. His fantasy was wild, but nothing Belle couldn't handle.


Chapter Seven

Hannah

There are many things I hate in life: getting my taxes done, waxing, HIV testing, my period...but there's nothing I hate more than when my sister Jackie decides to stop by.

For as long as I can remember, Jackie and I haven't gotten along. I think that her hatred for me stems from early childhood. Before I was born, she was the star child, the apple of both mum and dad's eye. But then, I came along and ruined it all for her. I stole dad away and she's never forgiven me for it. Oh, well. That's just one less person I have to lie to.

Jackie called me a few days ago as I was finishing up with a client. She'd said that she wabted to come over for dinner. One thing that I've never been able to understand is if she hates me so much, why does she insist on being a part of my life? Perhaps, it's her passive-aggressive way of getting revenge on me. Nonetheless, I can't say no.

After checking to make sure that my schedule was clear, I agreed to have her over for dinner Tuesday night. It might not be the highlight of my week, but it'll get her off my back for a while. I just hope that she isn't having husband troubles again. The last time that she and her husband Patrick were on the rocks - he'd been cheating - Jackie had shown up at my door with nowhere else to go. I'd grudgingly agreed to let her stay and struggled to keep my secret safe. In the end, I'd succeeded. Barely. Thankfully, she and Patrick had worked things out.

A few hours before dinner, I was with a client. Nothing much out of the ordinary. He was a middle-aged bloke who had recently retired and in an effort to feel young and powerful, had booked me. The sex was tedious - standard missionary - but satisfying nontheless. And he gave me a great tip. He'd said that he would ring to book me again, which is always good for me. I can never have too many regulars.

As soon as I got home, I jumped in the shower. I didn't think it appropriate it to have my sister over for dinner with some bloke's sex sweat all over me. Then again, it might get her to leave...Nah. Even I wouldn't do that.

I got out of the shower and dried off. I had just under an hour until Jackie's broom landed. I decided not to bother doing my hair and makeup. It's just my sister. I'm not going to fuck her, so what do I care? I threw on a sweater and a pair of jeans. I knew that my casual appearance would piss off Jackie, but I couldn't resist. And I knew that she would do everything in her power to push my buttons as well. It was how we socialized.

I ordered take-out Chinese and opened up a bottle of wine. I've never been much in the kitchen. I hate cooking and my culinary skills are so bad, they're laughable. When I got my first flat, I'd insisted on hosting Ben's birthday party. I'd been determined to make him a cake instead of paying a fortune to have one made. I'd slaved over my cake, following all the directions to a T. In the end, it had been a disaster: nothing but a hard, lumpy mess. Since then, I'd vowed to keep my indevors in the kitchen as few as possible. One of the pleasures of being a single woman is that I don't have to cook for anyone but myself, so I can just order-in or stick to simple things.

I was just setting the wine glasses out when I heard the doorbelle. "Shit," I whispered, sighing. Typical Jackie. Half an hour early. I should've known. I'd secretly been hoping that she'd change her mind and stand me up. Apparently, the Fates weren't on my side. Forcing myself to smile, I crossed the room and opened the door.

Jackie was standing on the porch, a bitchy smirk on her face. Great, I thought. She's not even been here a minute and I've already pissed her off. "Hi, Jackie," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Hannah." Jackie stepped aside to reveal her young son, Ollie. I haven't seen Ollie since last Christmas, and he'd certainly grown. He was about three now, and he definitely looked it. He had long, strawberry blond curls and deep, penetrating blue eyes. I have to admit, he's a cute kid. Too bad his cunt of a mother is raising him to think he's better than everybody else. His cuteness wears thin after his true, bratty nature reveals itself.

I turned back to face Jackie. "You brought Ollie," I said as politely as possible. I could already imagine my expensive decor being destroyed. Juice spilled all over my white carpet. See, this is why I don't have children. I'm far too materialistic to be a good mum, that and the fact that I'm selfish and like my sleep.

"Of course I did, Hannah," Jackie replied, her voice dripping with venom. "Have you got a problem with that?"

"No," I lied, shrugging. "It's just that I only ordered enough Chinese for you and I, so..."

"Oh, Ollie doesn't eat Chinese. It has MSG in it."

"Oh, right." I have no idea what the fuck MSG is, but figured it was best to play along. "How silly of me."

Without another word, Jackie pushed her way past me, dragging Ollie along behind her. "It's so nice of you to finally have me over to see your new place, Hannah. I didn't get to see much last time before you shoved me out the door." Her smile was wicked, catty.

I cleared my throat. "It's just that I've been so busy with work and everything..." I sat down and poured out two glasses of wine. I downed mine and refilled it, then set one before Jackie and, with a snarky half-smile, she sipped it.

Ollie wandered off to amuse himself and Jackie leaned forward conspiratorially. "Ben's not around now, is he?" she asked, looking around. While she and Patrick had been separated, Jackie and Ben had hooked up a few times. Jackie had romanticized it, but to Ben, it was just sex. In the end, he told her that he wasn't looking for a relationship, and Jackie had left in a huff, furious. She still hadn't forgiven him.

I shook my head. "Ben and I aren't together anymore," I confessed.

Jackie snorted. "Did he realize after stringing you along that he wasn't on the market for a girlfriend?" She downed her glass of wine.

"No." I shook my head. "I broke up with him."

"Ah." She nodded understandingly. "Caught him with another woman?"

"No."

"A man?"

"No!"

"Then what?" She was deriving some sick pleasure from all of this. I could tell by the evil gleam in her eyes. I should have known better than to make a friendly gesture toward her. Jackie is a bitch, plain and simple. Nothing would ever change that.

I sighed, looking down at my feet. "He felt that my job was coming between us and gave me an ultimatum: my job, or him. I chose my job."

"Good for you. Never give up your job for a man. He'll never appreciate it. It'll only cause resentment." Are we speaking from experience? Bitter about giving up your job at a big corporation to marry a tosser?

"Is everything all right, Jackie?" I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. She was being extremely bitter, even for her.

"Patrick and I are getting divorced," she confessed.

"Oh...I'm sorry."

"Don't be. He's a useless bastard. Always has been, always will be. Did you know that he doesn't even take care of Ollie anymore? It's all my job!"

"Wow. So…was he cheating again, or..."

"What do you think? Of course, he's cheating again. He's nothing but a disgusting, chauvinistic pig. I should have known better than to marry him."

I couldn't help but get a little barb in. "I thought he was 'the love of your life?' That's what you said at your wedding."

"Well, I was wrong, wasn't I?" she snapped. "He's nothing but a prick. I'm just glad I realized it before it was too late."

"Yeah."

"I've already told mum and dad. They've agreed to let Ollie and I stay with them until the divorce is finalized. Patrick's giving me the house, but I can't stay there until he's gone."

"Why not?"

"He's….enjoying it with his new girlfriend, Amy."

"Bastard."

"So, it's back to mum and dad's for now. They kept my old room in tact for me, thank God."

"That's good."

"Well, living with mum and dad isn't exactly my ideal living situation, but I don't have anywhere else to go." Her eyes were burning into me, guilting me.

"I'd invite you and Ollie to stay here with me, but..." I scrambled to find an excuse. Termites? Black mold?

"Don't worry, Hannah. After our last stay together, I wouldn't want to impose. I know how much you love your...private time."

When Jackie had last stayed with me, she had stumbled across my dildo collection. They were technically for work, but, desperate to keep my secret safe, I'd let her believe that I'm a sex maniac who loves to masturbate. That's better than the truth, right? "I sure do." I chuckled nervously.

Jackie sniffed. "The last time I talked to mum and dad, they wouldn't shut up about you. All they could talk about is how proud they are of you and how tough your job is. You know, all they used to be able to talk about is how disappointed they were of you. You went to university to get a degree in English and you're wasting your life, Hannah. And the thing I don't get is, what's so tough about being a nighttime legal secretary? I mean, sure it's got it's downsides, but so does every other job."

I chewed my lip. Maybe I should come out and tell her the truth. After all, what's the worst that can happen? She'll never speak to me again? On second thought... "The truth is, Jackie, I'm not really a nighttime legal secretary. I never have been."

"Oh." She quirked an eyebrow, her eyes never leaving mine. "Let me guess, you work for Scotland Yard. No, no, better yet. MI-5. Are you like Jennifer Garner on Alias?" She was mocking me. Cunt.

"I wish." I chuckled. "I'm a prostitute." I met Jackie's gaze, trying to gauge her reaction. Her face remained unmoving.

It was quiet for a mnute and then she snickered. "Yeah, right, Hannah. Come off it. Let's be honest, your not quite cute enough to be a prostitute. I mean, look at your body. Your tits are all right, but they're so…tubular. And your arse is nothing to write home about"

Oh, really? Biting my lip to refrain from speaking, I grabbed my laptop from the coffee table, and turned it on, opening up my website. I set it down on Jackie's lap. Her eyes roamed the page and her mouth dropped open. "See?" I said.

"You weren't kidding," she whispered, her eyes wide in shock.

"No," I answered simply.

Jackie looked at me as though I were a complete stranger. "You're disgusting!" she hissed, shooting to her feet. "Filthy!"

"Tell me how you really feel," I muttered, shaking my head.

"How can you...degrade yourself like that? Mum and dad raised us better than that!"

"It's not degrading. It's actually quite empowering..."

"Stop! I don't want to hear anymore!" She clapped her hands to her ears.

I scoffed. "Well, you have to, Jackie, cos I'm telling you the truth. I'm a prostitute. This is who I am. It may not be what everyone else does, but it makes me happy. I love it."

"You're a filthy whore!"

"That's just semantics..."

"Do mum and dad know?"

"Yeah."

"And they're proud of the fact that their daughter is nothing but a disease-ridden whore?"

For some reason, I'm not quite sure why, that stung. I felt my blood start to boil and rose to my feet, my jaw clenched. "I may be a disease-ridden whore, Jackie, but at least I've never been cheated on. Because I actually know how to please a man. I''m not a frigid bitch like you!"

Jackie's hand snaked out and connected with my cheek with a loud CRACK! It rang throughout my head, making me stumble a ittle. I took a step back, my hand flying to my stinging cheek. "Get out!" I barked, picking up Jackie's purse and throwing it toward the door. "And don't come back. Have a nice time living with mum and dad, I know you'll make them proud."

"I'm already gone." She picked up Ollie, who'd been happily watching TV, and stormed out. "I can't believe you'd say that to me, Hannah. Me, your own sister. How could you?"

I heard the door slam shut behind her and then a deafening silence. Typical Jackie, making it all about her. How could I call her a frigid bitch who doesn't know how to please a man? Ha. How could my own sister call me a disease-ridden whore? I hadn't imagined even Jackie capalble of that. What got to me the most was that I actually cared what she thought of me.

I snatched up the bottle of wine and took a greedy gulp. I needed something to calm me down. I'd just succeeded in driving my sister even further away. Who cares? I thought. You don't need people like her in your life. Besides, she'll get over it, she always does. Willing myself to believe it, I took another drink. I had a few days off and it didn't matter that I'd be drunk before the night was out. After all what did other people do when they desteroyed their relationships with their family?


Belle

A few days later, feeling much better, I met an old client for a booking. Ross and I had first met several months earlier. He'd had me dress up like a priest while he dressed up like choir boy...and then I 'molested' him. Strange fantasy, I know, but it takes all kinds, He'd promised to call me th enext time he was in London. I can't wait to see what his fantasy will be this time.

He had a room booked at the same hotel as last time, and I expertly navigated my way through the posh hotel. Some of the staff recognized me from my frequent visits and glared at me disapprovingly. I smiled in return. They know what I'm up to, and I know that they know. Thankfully, prostitution is legal in England.

I knocked gently on the door and squared my shoulders. The key to being a successful escort is to appear confident and in charge at all times. You have to be in chage, otherwise, you set yourself up for trouble. Thankfully, I've been able to avoid too much trouble in my five years as a sex-worker.

The door opened and I was greeted with Ross's beaming smile. "Belle!" he exclaimed in his Scottish brogue, his arms out wide.

"How are you?" I stepped into the embrace, burying my face in his chest+.

"Great. And you?"

"Never better." I kissed him on both cheeks. "It's lovely to see you again."

"You, too. I'm sorry it's been so long."

"It's okay."

He led me into the room, closing the door behind me. "Work's been mad and I haven't been able to get away." He handed me the envelope of cash and I discreetly dropped it into my handback.

"Thanks. Maybe you should consider switching jobs." I accepted a glass of champagne. "I get to travel all over the world. And the best part is, it's totally free."

"Really?" He arched an eyebrow.

"The client pays for everything," I iterated.

"You are a lucky girl!"

"I know." I grinned.

Ross set his champagne aside, all business. "I have something very special planned for us," he said, his eyes alight with childish joy.

"What is it?" I aksed, laughing gaily.

"It's nothing as...bizarre as last time."

"I had a lot of fun last time," I lied.

Ross cleared his throat. "Growing up, my parents forced me to attend Catholic school. Theyr'e both devout Catholics. I, personally, find the whole thing ridiculous. But for some reason, all of my fantasies involve religious figures."

"You might want to get that checked out," I teased.

"Since you fulfilled my choir boy fantasy, I think it's time we moved on to the next one."

"I can't wait."

"Have you ever heard of Rubber-Clad Nuns?"

"No."

"You dress up in a skin-tight rubber jumpsuit..."

"Sounds good..." Not really.

"With a gasmask."

"Uh huh." Even worse. `

I thought the last fantasy was fucked up, but this one...there's nothing remotely sexy about it. But still, Ross is a paying client, and what the client wants...

I smiled politely. "It sounds like we're in for some fun."

"I hope so." He laughed. "I put your costume in the loo. So, whenever you're ready..."

"I'm ready now." I set my drink down and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Turning on the light, I saw the rubber jumpsuit hanging from the shower rod.

Sighing, I slipped out of my dress, kicked my heels off, and took the jumpsuit off of the rack. I put one foor in and then the other, tugging the suit up. Now, I've never really been a fan of rubber or leather. I don't like the feeling of being constricted, but just this once, I'll do it. I just hope to God that Ross's next fantasy doesn't involve anything even remotely close to this.

When I finally had the jumpsuit on, I zipped it up and slipped into the black stiletto boots that accompanied it. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like the dominatrix from Hell. Chuckling to myself, I pulled my hair back into a tight bun and fit the gas mask over my head. Then, I placed the habbot on tip, securing my hair back. Sure, it was bizarre, but if I was going to play the part, I wanted to be perfect.

The discomfort from the rubber was nothing compared to that of the gas mask. I couldn't help but wonder if Ross would find it so sexy if he were the one dressed up in the uncomfortable costume. Something told me that he would. Ross was bizarre, but he was nice and payed well. Two of my favrotie attributes in a client.

Taking one last look in the mirror, I turned the light out and opened the door. Ross was lying on the bed in nothing but his knickers. I could see his erection straining against the cotton from clear across the room. Apparently, he was really turned on. I posed in the doorway, jutting out my hips sensually.

Ross grinned. "You look so hot," he said, rising to kneel expectantly on the bed. "I can't wait to fuck you."

"Feel free," I replied, my voice distorted within the gasmask. For fuck's sake, I sounded like Darth Vader. Is there anything sexier?

"Not yet." He reached into the pillow and pulled out a set of handcuffs. Oh, Christ. "Tease me first."

"It's my pleasure." I crossed the room and tanked his arms up over his head. He licked his lips hungrily. I secured the cuffs around his wrists and climbed onto the bed, straddling him. "How's that?" I asked.

"Good."

I slowly worked one rubber glove off, dripping it onto the carpet. I reached back and gripped his hard cock through his underwear. I started stroking it, being especially attentive to the head. Ross closed his eyes, sighing pleasurably. His lips twisted up into a half-smile.

After a minute or so, I helped him out of his knickers. Immediately, I went back to my task, enjoying the feeling of skin-on-skin. I quickened my pace a little, just enough to being him closer. I felt a drop of precum roll down my hand and smiled. Ross was excited. Apparently he found Rubber-Clad Nuns exciting.

I shifted down, removing the gasmask and took him into my mouth. He gasped and pulled against his restraints. I moved my lips up and down slowly, my tongue tracing up and down the shaft, tickling the soft underside of head. I worked a hand around to tickle his anus.

The sound of a loud banging at the door caused me to cease my actions. I looked up at Ross questioningly. "Get rid of them," he pleaded, wanting to get back to it."

"Back in a minute." I hopped off the bed and went through the main room to the door. I had opened it just a crack, when the person on the other side shoved it all the way open.

"Where is he?" she demanded, glaring at me.

"Who?"

"Ross. My husband."

"Your...?" Shit!

"Fuck!" Ross groaned.

The woman followed Ross's voice into the bedroom and gasped. "What the hell is this?" she demanded.

Ross's face flushed scarlet. "It's not what it looks like, Bree..."

"It's not?" Bree put her hands on her hips. "You're not handcuffed to the bed with some..." She looked back at me, her eyes burning with disgust. "Whore?"

"Come on, Bree..."

"No. You've done this to me for the last time, Ross."

"Bree, please, I love you!"

"Then why are you here with another woman?"

"Because I'm embarrassed!"

"Of what?"

Ross sighed. "Of my bizarre fantasies. I was too ashamed to ask you to fulfill them, so I figured that this was the best way to sow my wild oats..."

"This is a new low, even for you." Bree sighed disgustingly. "Get up and let's go. My mother's waiting with the kids down in the lobby."

I stood there watching the exchange quietly. Bree was an attractive woman, sure she wasn't stick-thin and had real curves, but her sparkling green eyes were mesmerizing. I hoped that Ross and Bree would be able to work things out. "Well, I'd better go," I muttered, backing away.

"I'd say that's a good idea, yeah." Bree didn't even look at me.

I caught Ross's eye and ducked into the bathroom. I quickly changed into my regular clothes and slipped out. On my way out the door, I heard Ross and Bree crying in the bedroom.


Hannah

Once in the lobby, I felt my pulses relax. There's nothing quite like a confrontation with a client's wife to get your pulse hammering. I took a deep breath and made my way to the door.

Outside, the sun was almost down, the sky a brilliant pink. I hailed a cab and got in. The driver asked me where I was going and after giving him my address, I called Ben. "Hello," he said, sounding chipper.

"Hi. How are you?"

"Good. How are you?" It felt good to hear his voice.

"I'm having a shitty day. Do you want to come round for drinks or something?"

Ben sighed. "I wish I could, but Gwen and I..."

"Please?" I begged.

"All right." He laughed. "You know how to get what you want."

"And I'm very good at it. See you in a bit."

"Bye."

Before I knew it, I was home. I paid the driver and went in. I threw my purse down on the table and went upstairs to take a quick bath. I went into my bedroom and switched on the light. I gasped. Standing before me was Harry. "Harry!" I gasped, my hand flying to my chest.

"Hello, Belle," He said casually.

"You scared me. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

"How did you get in?"

"I had a key made."

I felt my heart start to thump against my ribcage. Apparently, Harry hadn't gotten over me. And his stalkerish tendencies were back. "You need to leave," I said, trying to sound authoratative.

"Why, Belle? I thought we could catch up." He stood, coming closer to me.

"I said leave!" I exclaimed, shoving him back.

I saw anger flash in Harry's eyes before he pulled me into his arms, trying to kiss me.

"No!" I struggled in his arms, trying to get free.

Harry shoved me back onto the bed. "Come on now, Belle, is that any way to treat an old friend?" he asked, advancing toward me.

"Harry, please!" I begged, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Just go."

"Not until I get what I came for."

"You need to leave. Now. Ben's on his way over and if you're here when he gets here…."

"Don't worry. I'll be long gone by the time he gets here."

He lowered himself down on top of me, crushing my mouth with his. I worked hand free and gouged at his cheek. He pulled back, a trail of blood dripping down his face. "You bitch!" His fist crashed into my face and my vision wavered. My head drooped back and the room started spinning.

I felt Harry tearing at my clothes, but I was tired, and he was too strong. There was a sudden pain and then I felt Harry moving inside of me. I cried out, the sound deafening in my ears. Harry clapped a hand over my mouth. "Shhh. You'll enjoy it, just wait," he whispered, moving his hips quickly.

I tried to wiggle out from under him, but his weight kept me pinned to the bed. The pain seared through me and I felt myself detach. My mind went blank and time dragged on, limitless. Even through my detachment, I could feel the pain of his movements. My hands lay limply by my sides, useless. I was utterly and completely useless.

Harry quickened his pace and his breath came out in gasps. He groaned loudly and with one final thrust, climaxed. Not wasting a moment, he pulled out. The next thing I knew, he was standing again, zipping his trousers back up. "I'll be back, Belle," he promised, leaning down to kiss me. "Soon."

I heard his foosteps receding and then silence again. I stared up at the ceiling, my eyes unseeing. My world had just been shattered in a hopeless insant. What am I going to do?


Next Time: After her brutal rape, Hannah must decide whether or not to pack in escorting.