F4A - 3rd world slave whore

I leave the comfort of first class and descend into the cruel tropical hellscape that was finding a three-wheeled cab and getting the driver to reach my hotel.

By the time I arrive in the well-appointed French-style lobby my shirt clung damp to my broad muscular back and chest. I stop at the hotel bar, and order a bottle of water and watch a local boxing bout on the large TV behind the bar. I stay there until I stop sweating. The bout between two youth of indiscernible gender was brutal and lengthy. Eventually the fight is called when one lost a pile of teeth to a vicious uppercut.

I watch with fascination as they removed their crude protective gear and it turned out to be two girls on the cusp of their teen-aged years. I open and finish a second bottle, mesmerized by the fight.

Eventually, I realize I am not sweating so much. The A/C has cooled me down and I am eager to shower and change. Eager to confirm to the broker that I have arrived and I am ready to receive.

A girl not much older the the two boxers on TV leads me up to my room, the penthouse. It is bathed in light, offering me a view of the misty humid city outside. The Frenchy-ness of the place culminates here. A large four poster bed, wicker furniture, a clever palm frond fan. I expect the high-backed claw-footed tub, but not the separate functional rainfall shower.

I tip the girl, she smiles. I do not smile back, imagining her broken and torn.

It is time. I slide open the burner and slip a small sim card into the slot. There is only one number this phone has ever called. I dial and a women picks up. Very crisp English-accent with just a hint of the Hong Kong world she grew up in.

"I am here, the penthouse." She replies just as curtly, "20 minutes Mr. Simon."

I begin stripping off my shirt, looking at the full length mirror. My tall, trim and fit body. Short dark hair and piercing blue eyes. I smile as I begin arranging the tools of my release on the bed...

/r/dirtypenpals Thread