Lot Lizards- One more look in the dirty truck stop mirror, just to be sure. The white tank-top with the push-up bra, the Daisy Dukes cut off too short, the glitter under the eyes. Just like you were taught. You adjust your shirt, making sure every thing you have is on display. The sun set hours ago. The truckers are starting to settle for the night. Sure, this isn’t your first choice of work, but what else are you gonna do in a town like this? The night is warm and slightly humid. Maybe you can convince one of these guys to turn on the A/C when they take you into their truck…

Secret Coffee Order- it looks like any other coffee shop- the chalk board outside shows off the punny new summer special, the bell in the door jingles and lets out the screeching of the grinder and the smell of roasted beans. This has to be the wrong place.

“Just trust me on this,” my friend said. “Wait until she’s at the register and order at 16 oz Flat White with Almond Milk. It’s worth every penny.”

So I’m trusting him.

I sit at a chair, pretending to listen to music until you’re at the counter.

I walk over. You’re cuter than I was expecting. Why does that make this harder?

I order, just as he said. You look at me for a moment, taking measure as my fingers tap on the counter nervously.

“Hey, Jean, I’m gonna take my break.” Your eyes don’t leave mine as you walk out from behind the counter. Your look says “follow me,” so I walk not far behind as you lead me to a storage room, full of sacks of coffee beans and boxes of napkins. You lock the door behind us…

Prostitute and the Business Man- I'm only in town for a few days while I oversee a corporate merger. I'm tired, and lonely, getting ready to head back to my hotel for the night, when a coworker gives me a card, saying to call it if I need a companion. I head back to my suite, and sit on the edge of my bed, contemplating, for a moment, if I'm ready to take this leap. Finally, I take a deep breath, pull out my phone and send a text to the number. "Are you free tonight?" (so who are you? A high-end escort that likes to be wind and dined? A cheap thrill on the corner and a sparkling dress? A leather strapped dominatrix, putting men in their place for cash? Open to ideas for what kind of prostitute you are. )

Your very own boy toy- This is- by far- the oddest thing you’ve ever ordered off an app. But they made it SO easy, and, well, curiosity has made people to wilder things.

But maybe the most surprising part was how quickly it came. As if they were waiting for you. The knock on your door came less than 20 minutes after you placed the order. A tall beautiful woman dressed in black, with a small leather choker stands behind a slightly taller, equally beautiful man, with broad shoulders and a firm build, his hands behind his back.

Not QUITE as discrete as promised. The woman pushes your order in, and you realize his hands are cuffed behind his back. He walks down your hall to your living room.

“Do you want me to wait somewhere out of the way?” The woman asks, “or…” she smiles, “do you want me to watch? He can get a little unruly if he’s not… handled properly.”

In the other room, he sits on his knees, eyes looking toward you, ready to submit. All you have to do is ask.

High End Real Estate- You've always been the best at whatever you do. It doesn't matter what it is, running in the park, tests in college, hell, even fucking, you always worked your ass off to be the best. So when you decided to go into real estate, you weren't looking for the flexible hours or the joy of finding someone their perfect home, you did it because you knew you could do it better than anyone else. And you were right. It wasn't long before you were selling to top end clients, making multi-million dollar sales. You weren't connecting people to homes, but businesses to sky scrapers, or billionaires to estates. You were the best, and you knew it. Today you were showing a young tech mogul around a pent house in the city. His company was opening an office down town and he wanted a place to spend the night when here was here. He's charming and handsome, giving off the effortless charm of someone who knows what they're worth. You give him the tour, showing him the state of the art appliances and world-class view. "Now, you're not the first person I've shown this too," you tell him, "And there's already a small bidding war going on, so if you want to make an offer, you'll have to come in over asking." He smiles. Not a problem. Then he puts a hand on your waist. "How much to get the apartment, AND you?" You've heard these things before, usually as sexist little jokes from older billionaires, but this is different. He's not joking, he's asking. You get 5% of every sale you make. Everyone has a price. He's asking you to name yours.

Cafe Royale- It’s the fanciest new restaurant in town, awarded a Michelin star on its opening, causing quite the controversy as the organization broke its own rules. Reservations are already booked up years in advance. I was only able to get in tonight because a friend gave me his reservation. Apparently his wife didn’t like the idea of him dining alone.

The ambience is not quite what I was expecting- the dark lighting and sparkling fixtures make the main dining area feel like a fever dream. I give the host my friends name. “Ah of course; I have you down for a…. VIP dinner. Right this ways.” Why did she say it like that?

We walk through the main area, past tables of elaborate meals and fine vintages. Past a velvet rope, and in to an elevator. She brings me to the 4th floor. We exit into strobing lights and loud music. Men and women in fine dress sit on sunken couches, watching half-naked women dance in glass cages. My mouth drops, but the host keeps walking.

I follow another set of doors, this time into a much quieter space. A private bar with velvet booths, and candlelight. “here you are, she says go ahead and take a look at our menu. Your servant will be right with you. “

I open the menu, and look over the offerings.

“Jasmine- 5’4”, curled blond hair, energetic, enthusiastic and eager to please- market price.

Sasha- 5’11”, dark eyes, thin features. Talented, if a little stubborn- market price.”

This is not food. I look up, as a beautiful tall women with dark eyes walks past in an elegant dress to a different booth. The reality of what this room is- what I will be doing here, grips me too my core. My server walks over with a glass of red. “On the house. Are you ready to order?”

“ I’m sorry, “I say, about to get up. “There’s been a-“ I stop myself sentence as my eyes finally reach the last item on the menu. My heart starts pounding. “Yes. Yes I am ready to order.”

What does your entry say?

The Appraisal The auction is a week away. The day you’ve been working toward for the past few months- the day you’ve been trained for. But before you can be sent away to your forever home, we need to set a price.

Your trainer walks you down a dark hallway. His hand on the small of your back designates you to passersby as his. Everyone here is so… dressed. So many suits and cautious looks, so unlike the unrestrained hedonism that’s defined the past weeks.

He leads you to my office. “You’ll do great. I just know it:” he smiles as he knocks. He opens the door, but doesn’t follow you inside. The door slams shut.

I stand from behind my desk, walking around to the front and leaning against it. I can tell you know what you’re doing. You stand like you’re expecting this.

Today is the day your starting price is set. I am the person who will set it. You will be graded on appearance, attitude, ability and initiative. The higher the score, the higher the price, the more likely you are to go to a good home. You’re already off to a great start.

Party Favors- Sasha always throws the best parties. Whether it’s a theme night or a dinner party, I know every detail is going to be thought out and tailored to be as satisfying as possible. Tonight seems no different.

The invite came on all black stock. It had to be read under a black light to find the date and details. She’s rented out a warehouse for the event. The theme was a secret. All it says is XXX.

I show up a little late, a little tipsy. My girlfriend on one arm, as we walk into the old brick building.

“Oh I’m so glad you could make it,” Sasha says, as we walk in. “This way, your favors are over here.”

She walks us past coat check, to another room. A room filled with-

The attendant hands me your leash. I look at my girlfriend, uncomfortably. I was expecting something wild, but… to my surprise, she has taken another leash, her face alight with excitement.

“This way,” Sasha leads us to the other room. We hear it before we see it. Moans and orders and flesh on flesh. Men and women lead their favors by the leash through the room. Enjoying them, trading them, working them. Some are off in secluded corners. Some are bound and gagged. One is being shared by a group of men in the middle. There are toys on side tables, lube in hand baskets. Every detail tailor made. My girlfriend leads her favor into the room as I turn back to look at you. Sasha has done it again.

The old facility is dimly lit, the exposed brick and concrete floor making this whole affair feel industrial in its hedonism.

A Gift to a Rival Lord- My carriage arrives just before the evening. It is a long journey from my lands, and my men and horses are tired. I wipe the tired ache from my eyes, stretching sore shoulders and legs, as the trumpets call out our arrival.

"shit," I mutter under my breath, as the round bearded man walks out from the castle to greet me. His face is full of false smiles, and I shape my own face to match.

"I hope your journey was not too hard," He says as he shakes my hand. I assure him it was not. He talks of weather and food, small talk before tomorrow's negotiations. Pleasantries that ignore our years of war.

"If you will excuse me," I say to him at last, "My men are tired, and I myself would not mind some rest before tomorrows... talks... Would you mind-"

"Oh, but of course. In fact," he gives a cheeky little wink "I'll show you to your room myself." He leads me down the hallways, up a spiraling staircase to the guest quarters, but when I reach to open the door, he stays my hand.

"Before you enter, you must know. I have hired for you a... gift. A sign of good faith." He opens the door, revealing you inside, dressed in sheer cloths and silks, waiting on my bed. I swallow. The sacred pleasures of this land are renowned world wide, but even I never dared to dream of tasting them.

"A gift much appreciated," I say to him, as I step inside, and let the door close.