tres

I stare spellbound at the door. A cool gust of wind blows into my room and my gaze darts around once more. But it's too late to tidy up now anyway, so I straighten my shoulders a bit. At least I want to present myself well. Pete also turns away from me and a man enters. He wears a thick coat and this alone shows that he comes from the upper class. The fabric looks heavy. But sturdy. Just right for such a weather.

And as he enters, he looks around. But it doesn't seem like he's surveying the area. More like making sure there's no danger. His shoulders are a bit too tense and the fact that he pays more attention to the corners than to the chaos confirms this assumption. But I shouldn't care why he doesn't pay attention to me right away. Then there is still a little more time that I can look at him. Especially the sack in his hand. This one looks old. There are also slight holes to be found there, and the fabric looks very worn here and there. As if it would simply tear under too heavy a weight.

"Hi. This is Kalota." Pete takes several steps forward and holds out his hand to the man. "Unfortunately, she sustained a minor injury, but that won't stop her from doing her job properly."

The tester only gives him a cursory glance before closing the door and examining me. And that's what keeps me looking down. Humble, shy and yet graceful. That works best. At least in my experience. And so I no longer see the faces of the two men. But I don't need that either. Pete clears his throat quietly, showing that his hand has probably not been noticed yet. But that's how it is. I have to listen to Pete. Pete on the tester. And the tester on the rich. The chain of society.

"Get wood," says the man and I hear his voice for the first time. It seems calm and considered. As if every word has been considered door is open and with the slamming I know the tester and I are alone now.

This is the hardest time for me. Testers are often rude. She doesn't care how I feel about her exam. For them, the job is important to me. And that's just finding out if I'd be enough for the rich.

He immediately steps closer to me and drops the sack on the floor. There's a loud bang and that's enough to make me jump. A clear sign of how tense I am. Otherwise I'm not easily frightened. But my opponent does not notice it. Instead, he walks around me and while I don't get a glimpse of his face, I know he's looking at every inch of me right now. He probably wants to see if I have any insect bites. It is not uncommon for the women in the gutter to be bitten by small bugs, fleas or the like. Not me. And I'm very proud of that. Another benefit of having your own room. I don't have to be afraid that someone will bring in any cattle, which quickly turns out to be a nuisance.

When he's right behind me, he stops. Immediately I tense up a little more and it's always really hard not to turn around. After all, that's nobody I know. It's a stranger. I should have gotten used to the fact that I can't always control what they're doing by now. But I haven't. My instinct for self-preservation always makes it difficult for me to show so much trust in someone whose name I don't even know.

"Take that thing off," says the tester, gently tugging at my underpants. I immediately comply with the request and let the thin fabric slide down. And even as I want to get out, he grabs my pelvis. I stop immediately and take a deep breath. No frantic movements. And certainly none that might make him feel like I'm flinching. That's not nice to see. The men want to be desired. It's clear to everyone that none of the prostitutes really attract the clients finds. But the men don't seem to care. They want to feel that we enjoy their touch. Appearances are enough.

But it doesn't appear to be a sexual touch. Instead, he pushes my pelvis slightly to the right. "Keep your feet on the same spot," he whispers and I nod shyly. Still not sure what he's actually doing there. But no explanation follows. Instead, he pushes my hips to the left and I give in to the strength again. I have to Then Pete comes in. He immediately looks at us, but instead of saying anything, he rushes to the fireplace. He carries some logs and throws them on the floor with a loud thump. The tester sighs softly and it's more than obviously he cares about Pete.

But he doesn't say anything, instead going to the sack that he had thrown down so carelessly earlier. Immediately he opens it and now I have a better view of him. Brown hair is messy and looks a bit too long. But they were probably combed back otherwise and the wind has now tousled them. The face is tilted downwards, so I can hardly see anything, but I can see what is being taken out of the sack. a comb. The tester quickly stands up and this time I stare at him with wide eyes. A comb is not a bad thing. An examination for lice. Nevertheless, it is always difficult for me to be examined for all these little things. As if I were an animal.

He tilts his head slightly when our eyes meet and a slight smile is on his lips. These are surrounded by a beard and there are already some gray highlights. It makes him look older than he is. At least the immature crow's feet on his eyes suggests that he may only be a few years older than me. And even the bags under the eyes are not yet as swollen as is the case with the elderly.

"Look down," he whispers, and I immediately comply. The voice sounds sensitive. Unlike Pete. That makes me frown. Actually, it's always the other way around. I experience men's dislike and Pete's kindness. But apparently "Some things are different with this tester. Then he starts to comb my hair. It pulls hard and by now he must know that I haven't had a brush in my hand for a long time. But how can I? After all, I can't afford one .

The tester exhales annoyed and turns away from me. "She should be showered and made up," he barks across the room, and out of the corner of my eye I can see Pete flinch.

"Yes, we wanted to finish her off too, but she had the injury and..."

"I'm not interested in that." The tester snorts indignantly and runs a finger down my arm. "It's still dirty." Just to punctuate his words, he stretches out the finger that was just on my skin to Pete.

And that immediately causes heat to rise to my face. Yes, I'm still dirty. I'm still wet from the water that just spilled on me and the drops are making their way down my body, but that's not enough. I need a sponge for the dirt in the gutters. The dirt literally eats into my skin and can only be removed by vigorous scrubbing. I have laundry days. Once a week. This would have been tomorrow.

"So am I supposed to waste my precious time cleaning them now, or how did you imagine that?" And now Pete gets up and comes towards us. There is still no fire burning in the fireplace and I'm getting colder and colder Goosebumps form and I can only suppress a chill with difficulty.

"No, sir," Pete mumbles, grabbing my upper arm. "I'll clean them up quickly so you don't have to bother with them." With that he wants to pull me to the corner where the half-full bucket is still standing. But before I can even take a step, the tester says, "No, that's taking too long."

Pete immediately lets go of me and just gives me a quick look. “But I don't want to find her dirty again. Is that clear?" Even I find the coldness in the words uncomfortable. And that, even though they are not even addressed to me. Pete just nods and stands in the same place for a moment, doesn't seem to really know what he is doing now and now the tester steps closer to him.

"There's still no fire." The voice is soft. Barely audible, yet the warning is very clear. "Yes, sorry," Pete mumbles, hurrying back to the fireplace. And this time it doesn't take long before the soft cracking of the wood can be heard and even if the flames are still small, the warmth is already reaching me. lets me breathe easy. God, I forgot how beautiful that feeling can be. When the orange glow alone is enough to ward off the cold.

"Very good. Now get out of here." The tester points his finger at the door and as Pete leaves the room, my heart beats faster. Now comes the important part. Now I have to convince. Even if you can hardly hear my stomach wound, this is throbbing lightly and that might make me act differently, so I just hope he doesn't choose a position for sex where he touches it.

He comes towards me and puts two fingers under my chin, pushing it up. "Now for the fun part." As he does so, he brushes his thumb across my bottom lip with a little too much force. Sliding it lightly into my mouth, no more words are needed to let me know what's next.

****

I immediately give him better access and he looks at me inquiringly for a moment. The gaze seems to eat its way through my skin and I would like to look away again. But my fingers are still under my chin, showing that I should remain in this position. Then he finally lets go of me and slowly pushes his thumb a little deeper. This slides firmly over my tongue and the taste of dirt spreads. But I know that. The testers require that the whores are clean. But they don't even care about washing their hands.

"Let's see how far I can get, then." He sounds almost bored, and without once again making sure I'm ready, two fingers replace the thumb. And this time, there's no slow probing. He presses immediately fingers deep in my mouth and moving them. I gag, but he doesn't pull back, just keeps going. Rubs the roof of my mouth. Depresses my tongue. Saliva builds up in my mouth and I clench my eyes convulsively , wants to concentrate. But I can't really manage it. Because he keeps moving his fingers uncontrollably in my mouth. And that causes me to choke again.

Then finally he withdraws and once more I tremble. Tears cloud my vision and I have to blink to get a clear view again. God I hate this procedure. This is to see how far I can get an erection in the mouth. He wants to see how strong my gag reflex is. I can't say why fingers are used again and again and not the hardness. Perhaps the danger of biting is too great? Or it's the fact that fingers tend to entail even greater submissiveness. The man can look me straight in the face, picking up every movement while trying to make me choke. Maybe it's the interaction of the two factors. In the end it doesn't matter either.

The tester holds the saliva-covered fingers in front of my face and wiggles them slightly. I open my mouth again, wanting to give him access again, but he shakes his head almost imperceptibly and walks around me. And so I listen to the footsteps and straighten my shoulders a bit. But that wasn't necessary, he grabs my shoulders and pelvis and without putting pressure on me I know what he wants. And so I lean forward and stick my butt towards him. I should be uncomfortable that he now has the best view of my most intimate zone. But it is not. After all, it would be a position that protects my stomach and so I feel more joy than embarrassment.

To the point where a finger slides through my labia. It's obvious that I'm not wet and even the little saliva on my fingers hardly changes this fact. Nevertheless, the tester does not seem to be bothered by this. Again and again he circles my entrance, slides to the front of my clitoris and briefly plays with the little pearl. The touches are pleasant. Not as hard as it usually is. But nothing helps. I can't feel any excitement. This is simply because of the tension that always accompanies such a visit. i want the job And that's exactly what won't let me switch off.

"Relax," he whispers, and I take a deep breath, nodding slightly. But that's more automatic than serious. After all, I can't force something like this. Still, I try my luck and tell myself that this is It's not a job. But it just doesn't work. The tester seems to get that too. He sighs softly and lets go of my pelvis. But I don't move, keep my bottom stretched out.

And I'm so focused on what follows that I realize too late how he's snapping his knees behind my knees. The force of the impact causes me to buckle immediately, and even as I flail my arms to somehow regain my steadfastness, he grabs my hair and pulls me down with a jerk. And with that, my last attempt to stay on my feet was nipped in the bud. I hit the ground hard with my knees and can't help but gasp softly in pain.

"Do you always have trouble getting wet?" As he talks, the tester walks around me and I immediately shake my head. "No, not really." That is not entirely true. I really don't usually have a problem getting wet, but there are those days when I just can't seem to let go of the events of the day. And that's exactly what makes me feel hardly aroused. I actually have fat for that. This ensures that I still have no pain when penetrating.

"I shouldn't give a damn, but if you get the job it could get pretty tiring for you if you don't get wet quickly." Now he is standing in front of me and the crotch is right on my level. But that's not what catches my attention, it's what's being said. After all, it means nothing other than that the customer has no regard for whether my body is ready to receive it. "I have creams for such cases," I whisper quietly, watching the tester slowly unzip his pants. He's still wearing the coat and I wonder why he doesn't take it off. After all, the still burning fire provides a pleasant warmth.

"No, no tools." And with that, the pants slide off his legs. Very slowly she makes her way down and lands on the floor with a soft rustle. "The customer prefers it spontaneously." And now he removes the coat, letting it fall carelessly on the floor. Then he takes a small step closer to me and without thinking about it I look up. "Get him stiff and nice and wet, that might work for you." During the last part he winks at me and again I have no choice but to bend down. But it does not bother me. After all, it's my job.

So I flip the switch inside. From now on, I'm not the woman who wants to escape the gutter. I'm no longer the woman with my own opinion. I'm just someone who acts. And so I grab the member and lean forward a bit at the same time. Very carefully I touch my tongue over the glans and keep squinting up. Find the tester's gaze. This is important. The facial expression reveals a lot. Especially whether you like it or not.

But his gaze rests on me thoughtfully. And only when our eyes cross, a smile steals on the lips. But what he can't show me through facial expressions, his body shows. The blood is pumped into the loins and the shaft becomes a little harder. And that's all I need. I immediately slide the tip of the member into my mouth, circling it with my tongue while looking the tester in the eyes the whole time. Most men want that. Eye contact as I amplify their pleasure, squatting in front of them, taking the low position.

The heaviness just keeps building and I don't really want to admit it, but that's what I like the most. To feel how I awaken the desire. That the men get even deeper excited because of me. It's a kind of endorsement. A sign that I'm at least doing my job right.

The glans gets fuller and fuller and finally I can feel the tendon that connects the tip and the shaft with my tongue. Glide up and down again. Let the pressure on it increase a little. This is the weak point of many men. And it is exactly the same with the tester. Because while I continue to play around the glans, the first drop of pleasure forms and hits my tongue. And that's exactly what makes me put my lips tighter around the heated skin. I gently slide the erection deeper into my mouth and suck lightly.

And that seems to be enough for him. He buries his hand in my hair and immediately the tugging tells me that he is struggling with himself. He wants to push my head forward. Squeeze his glans over my throat and thrust down my throat. But something is stopping him. Exactly what that is I can't say at all. I have to do with the hardness in my mouth. And so I try to ignore him. But it's difficult for me. His hand cramps more and more and now literally tears at some strands and then an annoyed sound is heard. And while that sound still echoes in the room, I'm being pushed forward.

The hand in my hair immediately cramps even more, pulls my head back and the glans presses over my throat. And now my self-control is gone. A gagging sounds from me, makes me tremble under him. But he doesn't care. The erection is pressed deeper into my throat. A gurgle from me mixes with his moans and I grab his thighs in a panic, wanting to push myself away. But the tester doesn't intend to let me go. Instead, he moves his pelvis slightly. And so his member rubs against the sensitive inner walls of my throat, leaving a sting. But that's not the problem, it's that I can't breathe. I want to exhale through my nose, try to calm down somehow, but it doesn't work. And so more and more stifled sounds penetrate my room, while he just uses my neck for his pleasure in small jerky movements. But he never pulls back far enough for me to breathe.

This makes me panic. Tears blur my vision, run hot down my cheek. I do not care. i need air So I hit the tester blindly, wanting to show him that he should let me breathe. But he doesn't back down. And so my limbs are getting heavier and heavier. Saliva runs down my lips, drips onto my breasts, onto the floor. And me? I'm losing my bearings more and more. I can hardly fight back. Only perceive the erection. This pushes itself again and again over my throat. A groan sounds. It sounds far away. And as lightness takes hold of my spirit and I can't even keep my hands up, he finally pulls away. And that's just enough. I immediately gasp for air. cough. Struggling to pump my lungs full of oxygen while more and more saliva flows out of my mouth. I must look terrible. But I can't give a fuck about that. my throat is burning And so I brush my fingers over this one while another coughing fit overcomes me. But this time the tester gives me the time I need.

I'm so busy that I hardly notice the tester walking around me again. Only when he pushes my shoulders forward do I notice that he is no longer standing in front of me. And without thinking much about it, I give in to the pressure. Raise my pelvis. My lungs are still burning and crying out for air. And so my groans continue to fill the room as he grabs my pelvis. Almost slowly he lets the glans slide through my labia to my entrance.

And just as I brace myself for him to penetrate me, he thrusts in. With full force. I immediately want to move forward a little, but he continues to hold my hips, pulling me towards him. And so I'm completely filled within a second. I gasp, the intensity shaking me.