Don’t call me a whore. Although that is what I am, I do not wish to be called so, not to my face, and certainly not in print. Though tell the truth my name is in print if you look hard enough. The 1873 edition of “Harris’ Guide to Lancashire Ladies”, if you please:

"Miss D. Old Crompton Road, Manchester City”
This accomplished nymph has just attained her eighteenth year, and fraught with every perfection, enters a volunteer in the field of Venus. She plays on the pianoforte, sings, dances, and is the mistress of every manoeuvre in the amorous contest that can enhance the coming pleasure; is of middle stature, fine dark brown hair, green eyes and very inviting countenance, which ever seems to beam delight and love. In bed she is all the heart can wish, or eyes admires every limb is symmetry, every action under cover truly amorous; her price two pounds".

It is a lie to say I am but eighteen. I passed that many a year ago, but for the purposes of this tale I am still so. In any case you will never tell, such is the unsullied nature of my beauty. You may think me arrogant. I am not so. I speak as I find, and I find myself still relatively blemish free despite the nature of the business I come to be in. “Harris’ Guide” is correct in it’s assertion that I am all you could wish for in bed of course. It tells you not of my delicate bone structure. I am in want of a more ample bosom it is true, but what I lack there I make up for in skill it is to be sure. You would be surprised how many men prefer this.
Tonight I am dressing in my finest. Well, the finest I can manage, a gown of dark green, corseted of course. I have a matching hat for every gown I own. Just because my cunt is my living doesn’t mean that I don’t take pride in what lies on the outside too. I lace up my boots. They are black leather, heeled and have the most lace holes I have ever seen in my life. But they keep my calves warm and make my feet look that bit more delicate.
I can see how cold it is already, and it is barely past seven o’clock. I trace my fingers along the shutter of my window and breathe out; my breath catches on the window and makes the candle on the washstand flicker. I can see in the street below a carthorse slowly wending its way, the gas light gutters and I rub my hands together for warmth.
I must prepare my bed. My bed, along with what lies between my legs is my business and men do not like careworn sheets and untidy living arrangements. I take off the sheets I have slept in, and repair them with fresh ones. Out of the trunk underneath my bed I take three new candles and put them in place ready to light when I bring you, or whoever it may be, back. It doesn’t look so bad now. Sparse, but still homely. Which is what I have found is favoured most. True you can see the floorboards and the walls are a strange yellow in the candlelight, but at least there is a fire in the grate.
I take my hat up from the dresser and arrange it so. My hair is swept up in the fashionable style of the time and tucked within it. You can still see it a few tendrils creeping forth, which will give me away in an instant as a “fallen woman” whence I am in public.
Descending the stairs from my room (take care to avoid the third one from the bottom, one false move and you shall be in the sanatorium) I make my way out into the street, which is as usual little more than a dirt track with an assortment of cobbles. I need new boots. Perhaps tonight I will procure the money to pay for them. As usual I pass the ale house, and the strong smell of drink is inviting. Maybe I should take a nip of something for courage? For while tonight could be the night I finally get my new leather boots, it could also be the night I end up at the bottom of the ship canal. Such thoughts are ghastly, but I need not fear. I am far from that, at least for this one night, though I do not know it to be so yet.
I am to take my place in the ginnel near the entrance to the theatre seeing as it is Saturday. Saturday night brings forth all the young dolts. Young dolts who have freed themselves from the fierce constraints of their families for one evening and are able to roam free with a few shillings in their pockets. Young dolts who are hungry for cunt. Young dolts who will line my purse. Mayhap tonight is the night I will take one in hand who has never known a woman before?
I hope that I will not have to wait long, I can feel my hands turning blue with the cold, my feet pinch and my gown does not keep the chill out as well as I had hoped it would. I absent mindedly step off the pavement such as it is and look to my left. I fail therefore to notice you on my right, and you walk straight into me. I am startled at first, then angry with myself for being so foolish as to be knocked off balance.
“My dear lady, please accept my apologies…” you say. Polite. Unusual for one so young. You are not from these parts. You would not have been so thoughtful of word if you knew who or what I really was.
“No need to apologise, sir. I was just caught a mite unawares is all” I reply. You are definitely not what I am used to. You are pale of skin, dark haired and gentle looking, yet there is something of the night about you. Forgive the irony there.
“Let me assist you and see you are unharmed…”
“I am well, I am well…” I say. You have already taken hold of my gloved hand.
“It is far too chill a night for you to be out like this. You must be cold through. Please at least allow me to see you to safety and warmth”.
“Very well” I couldn’t say no, could I? You may very well be about to unwittingly pay for my boots.
We enter a brightly lit establishment across the way from the theatre and find a table. It is there I can look at you properly and see how smart you are. Waist coated, white shirted and trousered in your finest. Drinks are purchased and consumed. Conversation is made. Time passes. I make moves to go, for whilst the company is as intoxicating as the liquor, this is costing me shillings.
“I must away. My companions will wonder where I am”
“You are not away to stand in this loathsome weather, surely?”
You really have no idea, do you?
“Sir, would that I am. Though mayhap you wish to see me back to my lodgings instead?”
You gulp. I think you understand what I am trying to say but I am unsure. Time will tell. You nervously pick up your cane and follow me out of the inn.

* * * *

“Mind the third step, sir” I say. Yes. It is true. It seems you have indeed come back with me. I did not expect you to come this far. But you have.
“This is, charming…” you say, rather unconvincingly.
“It is not, sir – but thank you all the same. It is home for me”.




I light the three candles. One for sorrow, one for joy, one for new shiny boots. I take off my hat and shake my hair loose. This unsettles you briefly, almost as if you have never seen a woman’s hair before. I light the fire. The room will soon be warm.
“Sit if you like.” I say. You perch nervously on the edge of the bed.
I take off my gloves, finger by finger. You watch me intently.
“Take off your waistcoat” I say. “I should like to see you without it”.
You do as I bid you. There is a fear in your eyes now. It is usually the other way round. I am enjoying this for once.
I purposefully sit down in front of you and start to unlace my boots. I see you staring at me. I spread my legs a little. Nothing too far, nothing too much, just so you have more of an idea why you are here and what it is I want from you. You can see the top of my bloomers. Bloomers are what girls wear, and I am far from a girl, but that is what they are called and that is what you see. I stand up, having taken off my boots and start to unhook the buttons of my gown.
“Take off your shirt, unbutton your trousers” I tell you.
“I think you have the wrong idea about me…I simply wanted to escort you h…”
“I think you know perfectly well why you are here. Take off your shirt, unbutton your trousers. Be a good boy.”
You seem to still be frightened but at the same time I glance down and see you have a cockstand. Not too frightened to be erect, are we?
My gown is taken off. It is on the floor. I will pick it up later on. For now I want to see you naked and helpless.
You are lying on my bed now. I, for once, am in the lead and firmly in control. Normally I am used to a man having his will, this way, that way. Not tonight. I lean over you and carefully unbutton your longjohns, by now glistening wet. I am estranged to the feeling I have in my sex at this moment. You are stirring something within and I too feel a wetness I am hitherto unused to.
“I am going to take you in my mouth. Will you let me do that, sir?”
You cannot really argue or say no, can you?
I slide my lips over your not inconsiderable cockstand. For a moment I think you will not be able to wait until you are inside my cunt and you will spunk into my mouth. So I stop.
You watch as I take off my corset and free my bosom. I slide out of my bloomers so I am naked in front of you, my hair cascading over my body. I take your hand. I think for once I am going to enjoy myself too. I place your fingers over my mound and let you gently rub them over me. The sensation of actually wanting to be touched by someone is new and unusual for me and my cheeks, usually pale with disdain are starting to flush with colour.
“Take your fingers and put them inside me.” I instruct you. You do so and you do it so well.
“Now take them and put them into your mouth. I want you to know what it is like to taste a woman such as me”. I watch as you take your fingers, glistening and place them inside your mouth, trembling yet so close to the edge.
“Now lie back”. You lie back. Though I have to push you. Your mouth catches my left breast. You suck the nipple. Nobody has ever done that to me before and I feel my cunt pulse with pleasure.
I stand over you so that you can see everything you are about to experience. I pull the lips of my sex apart and sit astride you, taking you within. Just the tip of you at first. You are so big I fear you may split me in two. I hear an audible groan as I do this. You grab the bed sheet and crumple it within your grasp. Slowly I lower myself further down your shaft, until you are at once all inside me. My instinct is to hold you like this until you can bear it no longer and have to move and this is what I do. To feel something so hard and so big inside me in this way and to actually want it there is a new experience. For once I actually want to stroke myself, so I can expand for you even further and this is what I do. Though you are watching me and after a few strokes you replace my hand with yours and take over. I move my snake hips over you and begin to grind against your body.
It is too much for you now. I know it is. You come inside me. Very hard and very quickly. Normally I would be glad. I would climb off, hand you your clothes, take my money and hurry you away. The quicker the better. It is not so on this night. I am not yet satisfied and I want the feeling I have pulsing through my body to continue. I am resolved to wait until you are ready to start again.
“I do not normally behave in this way” you say
“I know” I reply “Now stand up, and kneel down at the foot of the bed”
Again, you’re pliable and do as you are told.
“I want you to use your mouth on me”
Fear mixed with desire on your face again.
I take hold of your head and guide it towards my cunt. You slowly begin to lick me. For all your perceived innocence you know what you are doing. Your tongue enters me, then traces its way up towards my clitoris. You are gentle yet firm, a rarity. I look down and see you have sufficiently recovered enough to be rock hard once more. But for the moment you must concentrate on me. You have had your fun once, now it is my turn.
“Take your fingers and put them inside me again” I urge you. You do so, whilst continuing to slowly lick me. This is enough to almost send me over the edge. You must understand I have only ever been used to pleasuring myself. I am not at all used to having pleasure bestowed upon me by a man.
“I want to come” I tell you. This is the first time I have ever said these words out loud. “But I see you are hard again, and I would like to have you inside me once more. Would you like that?”
You nod. I stand up, my legs nearly buckling. I force you back down onto the bed and just for good measure I take you back inside my mouth again and look into your eyes as my tongue flicks over your hard prick.
“This time I want you to take me from behind”
You already have hold of me, and you push me down – surprisingly forcefully, and slowly guide yourself into me, pressing down on my back with the small of your hand. You move slowly and as you do so, reach round and start to stroke my clit again. Doing it this way, from behind makes you feel even bigger inside me and I am now practically gasping for air as you start to move rhythmically against my hips. I gently pull on my nipples while you fuck me.
“Shall I slow down?” you ask. You are divine.
“No, sir. Please no…” I beg.
I never beg. Now I am.
“Please…harder…”
I feel a tumultuous orgasm start to build and I also sense you are close to it too. I start to tighten as you fuck me. I gasp as it happens. I have never come from being fucked before. You don’t stop until you are satiated again, and despite your previous exertion you still spend very hard inside of me.
You fall back onto the bed, your body glistening and wet, still hard. You are exhausted. I am too.
Normally I would have you out and away. Not so tonight. You are not going anywhere. The candle flickers in its holder by the bed. I let you sleep, we will deal with tomorrow when it comes. So please don’t call me whore, for I am no longer.