Categories > Original > Erotica > the Whore
Chapter 4: OC
We charged different rates for different men. The High Born had to pay the most. The soldiers at Winterfell less. The skilled craftsmen of Wintertown a little less. The low born even less. Our rates were set so that everyone could afford me. It hurt every man the same to buy me for the night. Every man except the High Born. Even the increased amounts we charged them were not enough to make them hurt. They were just too rich. I would even give myself to some men for free. There were a men in the community that were too poor to attract even the lowest of low born wives. We regarded it as a community service to fuck these lonely men once a month or so. Because we knew if someone didn’t fuck them they might, in their frustration hurt themselves or others. When me and the other whores divvied out who we would do for free, I made sure Hodor was on my list.
But the point was that every man could afford me if he wanted me bad enough. And all the women in Wintertown knew it. So every day they would call me whore behind my back and some of them would say it to my face. A High Born man would pay me as much money as I might make in a month fucking poorer men. But I couldn’t count on a High Born man picking me. So I fucked a different man every night, often for nearly nothing.
Tonight I was picked by the husband of a girl I knew from my childhood. I always gave the low born men a bath first, using the special soap that kills head lice and crabs. After I’d washed him and let him soak a while, I helped him out of the bath and led him into the bedroom.
I took off my shift and asked how he wanted it.
He just wanted to get on top of me and fuck me normal like. I help him get ready by drawing him into a session of kissing while out hands explored each other’s bodies. He really liked playing with my tits while my hands massaged his cock until he was hard enough. When he shifted his weight, I knew he was about to push me down. I beat him to it and laid back with my knees bent and my legs spread. He descended on me as I was laying down and entered me as soon as he was in position. He leaned back while he fucked me and I reached up and played with his chest as he did so, pinching his nipples, lightly. He was able to last a little longer than average and I stopped playing with his chest when he brought me to climax. My obvious enjoyment pushed him over the edge and he finished in me before collapsing on me and falling asleep. I let him sleep in me for as long as I could stand the shortness of breath. He went soft and slipped out before I woke him and asked him to get off me. Some men, at this point get up and leave. But most, like him, want to cuddle after they fuck me. He lay on his side kneading my right tit with his hand.
“My wife was a childhood friend of yours,” he said.
“I know,” I told him. “When we were real little, I slapped her because she told me my mother was a whore. I didn’t know what a whore was, but the way she said it made me think it was really bad. By the time I was grown, all the girls said that she was a whore and I would be one too. And they were right. I did become a whore.”
“That was a long time ago ____,” he said, ending with the name I had borne in childhood.
“Please don’t call me that!” I protested. “I don’t use that name anymore!”
“Well what should I call you?” he asked.
“Everyone in Wintertown calls me: Whore,” I explained. It’s become my name. I liked to be called Whore. It’s who I am now.”
“All right . . . Whore!” he replied, trying to make my name, profession and title sound like something bad.
I rewarded him for calling me: ‘Whore’ with a kiss. When he broke it off I told him:
“All those girls said I would become a whore, and I did!” I told him. “And as a whore, I have fucked all their husbands. With you, I have completed the set! And for the rest of their lives they will always know that I am the whore who fucks their husbands so well they always come back for more.”
“Well, I know I will certainly be back for more;” he told me, as he kissed me again while he played with my tit.
We charged different rates for different men. The High Born had to pay the most. The soldiers at Winterfell less. The skilled craftsmen of Wintertown a little less. The low born even less. Our rates were set so that everyone could afford me. It hurt every man the same to buy me for the night. Every man except the High Born. Even the increased amounts we charged them were not enough to make them hurt. They were just too rich. I would even give myself to some men for free. There were a men in the community that were too poor to attract even the lowest of low born wives. We regarded it as a community service to fuck these lonely men once a month or so. Because we knew if someone didn’t fuck them they might, in their frustration hurt themselves or others. When me and the other whores divvied out who we would do for free, I made sure Hodor was on my list.
But the point was that every man could afford me if he wanted me bad enough. And all the women in Wintertown knew it. So every day they would call me whore behind my back and some of them would say it to my face. A High Born man would pay me as much money as I might make in a month fucking poorer men. But I couldn’t count on a High Born man picking me. So I fucked a different man every night, often for nearly nothing.
Tonight I was picked by the husband of a girl I knew from my childhood. I always gave the low born men a bath first, using the special soap that kills head lice and crabs. After I’d washed him and let him soak a while, I helped him out of the bath and led him into the bedroom.
I took off my shift and asked how he wanted it.
He just wanted to get on top of me and fuck me normal like. I help him get ready by drawing him into a session of kissing while out hands explored each other’s bodies. He really liked playing with my tits while my hands massaged his cock until he was hard enough. When he shifted his weight, I knew he was about to push me down. I beat him to it and laid back with my knees bent and my legs spread. He descended on me as I was laying down and entered me as soon as he was in position. He leaned back while he fucked me and I reached up and played with his chest as he did so, pinching his nipples, lightly. He was able to last a little longer than average and I stopped playing with his chest when he brought me to climax. My obvious enjoyment pushed him over the edge and he finished in me before collapsing on me and falling asleep. I let him sleep in me for as long as I could stand the shortness of breath. He went soft and slipped out before I woke him and asked him to get off me. Some men, at this point get up and leave. But most, like him, want to cuddle after they fuck me. He lay on his side kneading my right tit with his hand.
“My wife was a childhood friend of yours,” he said.
“I know,” I told him. “When we were real little, I slapped her because she told me my mother was a whore. I didn’t know what a whore was, but the way she said it made me think it was really bad. By the time I was grown, all the girls said that she was a whore and I would be one too. And they were right. I did become a whore.”
“That was a long time ago ____,” he said, ending with the name I had borne in childhood.
“Please don’t call me that!” I protested. “I don’t use that name anymore!”
“Well what should I call you?” he asked.
“Everyone in Wintertown calls me: Whore,” I explained. It’s become my name. I liked to be called Whore. It’s who I am now.”
“All right . . . Whore!” he replied, trying to make my name, profession and title sound like something bad.
I rewarded him for calling me: ‘Whore’ with a kiss. When he broke it off I told him:
“All those girls said I would become a whore, and I did!” I told him. “And as a whore, I have fucked all their husbands. With you, I have completed the set! And for the rest of their lives they will always know that I am the whore who fucks their husbands so well they always come back for more.”
“Well, I know I will certainly be back for more;” he told me, as he kissed me again while he played with my tit.
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