What Price a Bed – BDSM – Sex Story


What Price a Bed

One

I’d fucked him because I had to. Not because he was sweet, or hot. But because he had a bed.

Not the first time. And undoubtably not the last. It wasn’t unpleasant. Just not what I wanted. Opening my legs for a warm bath and a pillow for the night had become more regular than I cared to admit even to myself.

There were plenty of men out there eager to make the exchange and thankfully my one asset was my looks. It meant that within reason I had some pick of who.

This guy had been a student with digs. Most of them were. The advantages of hanging around a university town. He was twenty. Same age as me. Just luckier in life. Kyle he said his name was. Not that I would remember that in a few days. He hadn’t been anything special to look at. Clean, which was the most crucial thing and a fairly decent human being.

I dressed quickly and quietly, sneaking away from my still slumbering pickup.

His flat mate was in the kitchen when I came out of Kyle’s room with my rucksack.

“Coffee before you go.”

He looked at me brightly as if a strange girl appearing was the most typical thing in the world. It probably was to be fair. I didn’t think for one minute I was anything more special to Kyle than he was to me.

“Thanks that would be great.”

I put my bag down and took a seat. I’d been intending to just slip away unnoticed as I usually did but the offer and smell of freshly brewing coffee was too much to withstand.

“Good night?”

“Yeah. Good.

Thanks.”

I didn’t doubt this lad had laid awake in the next room enjoying listening to the show the previous night. I didn’t much care. I’d been on the streets since early spring and any pretence to modesty had long since gone.

“The name’s Jay by the way.”

“Hi Jay.

Jewel.”

“Unusual.”

“Yeah. I get that all the time.

Got any biscuits?”

Something in my stomach wouldn’t be a bad thing.

“Hang on. I’ll find you some.”

He hunted around in a top cupboard coming up with a pack of custard creams.

“Thanks.”

“Tom still asleep?”

“He opened his eyes when I got up, but yeah. Don’t think he’s moving anytime soon.”

He had been a bit energetic. Normal lad trying to impress me with his stamina. Might have worked if I’d been the usual naive student type. But to me he’d just been a bed for the night out of the rain. My body the price to be paid. To be fair I did enjoy sex and sometimes I could get really into it. But knowing why I was doing it was a bit of a dampener.

I munched on the biscuits, forcing myself to keep to four. I didn’t want to look too greedy. I had a little cash that I could afford a supermarket meal deal later. And perhaps if I was lucky I’d discover another helpful guy who’d buy me a kebab or Maccie Dees. Not everyone wanted a shag in return for being nice.

“The weather looks okay.” I said glancing out of the window.

I hoped it wouldn’t rain today. Perhaps I could avoid cheapening myself two nights in a row beyond a smooch.

“Yeah. Not too bad. Where you off to today?”

“Nowhere in particular.”

I didn’t look homeless so I was never keen to admit it. A bit rough around the edges maybe. No make up and my hair could do with a tidy. But I kept myself clean and my clothes looked okay. No worse than any other young person walking around. Jeans, decent walking boots and a jacket. Even the backpack didn’t suggest anything else, plenty of people had those. Just that mine contained everything I owned.

“Might go up to the cathedral and take a look around there.”

A complete lie. Just enough to sound as though I was typical. I drank my coffee. Not too hot.

“So not a student then?

Me and Tom have lectures this morning.

I’ll need to wake him in a minute.”

“No.

Do me a favour and wait till I’ve gone before waking him. I don’t like awkward goodbyes.”

“Fair enough.”

I swirled the last of my coffee in the mug to mix in any undissolved sugar and swallowed it back.

“Thanks for that, and the coffee. I’d better be going.

Tell Tom I said thanks for a great night.”

He grinned and I knew he’d heard us. With a wry smile I picked up my stuff and let myself out. Another day walking the streets. At least it looked as though it’d be a sunny day.

The morning was starting cool and a little damp, but clear skies held promise. Of course after almost eight months of this I’d become accustomed to closing out the temperatures. It was the wind and rain I couldn’t stand. It was the rain that had made the decision to sleep with Tom. It’d been that or sheltering somewhere that didn’t quite keep me dry. It’s fucking hard to sleep if every few moments cold water drips on your face.

I spent the morning in the park. Strolling and sitting on a bench watching people walking their dogs and some children playing on the swings. Joggers keen on their keep fit drives. Typical people going about their lives, oblivious to me. I was invisible.

Time passed slowly with nothing to do but I was used to it. I was adept at people watching. Perhaps one day I’d write a book about my time on the streets. That was about the only dream I had left.

Come midday it was off to the supermarket to buy lunch and hang around near the train station. There were benches there to sit on and no one to bother me. It also passed the time imagining where the arriving and departing passengers might be going. It was easy to spot the company people, the families visiting friends, or the tourist on a day trip to see the Cathedral. Clothes spoke loudly if you paid attention.

This was pretty much my day. At first I’d tried to discover work but no one wanted to know when I couldn’t provide an address. I’d managed a couple of cash in hand jobs around Easter but they’d dried up. Perhaps Christmas would offer another opportunity.

All in all I lived day to day. My only income the Universal Credit I received monthly. That in itself had been a challenge. Again with no address a bank profile had been impossible to get. Luckily there was a way to access it through the Post Office. The next challenge had been keeping it. Early on I’d been mugged sleeping under a bridge. Two guys, druggies, had taken almost all my money the very day I’d withdrawn it.

I was lucky it was only money they were interested in. I’d wondered I would be raped or beaten. Or both. Instead they’d taken my cash and run. That’d also been the last time I’d had a mobile phone. Bad things happened on the streets and no one cares.

After that I was careful to hide what I had and stay away from the crackheads that shared my world at night. Lucky for a while a guy in the same position as me has taken me under his wing and shown me how to survive. But he’d moved on and now I was alone.

Losing the phone wasn’t a complete disaster either. Paying for credit was an expense I could do without. And I had no one to ring. It’d just been a source of amusement. A few games and whatever free ebooks I could discover. I missed reading. And my music. I didn’t miss paying for data.

“Any spare change luv?”

I hadn’t seen the guy sitting in the doorway and it made me jump back.

“No. Sorry.”

I kept walking. I’d seen him about before. A middle aged guy all the time begging. His face was sallow and he looked spaced out. It didn’t take a genius to know where his money went. An easy route to follow but also a reminder to keep myself clean and presentable.

“Bitch.”

The word didn’t hurt me. He couldn’t know I was in no better position than him. Just that I hadn’t fallen quite so low in my self esteem. At least not yet.

Evenings were worst. They dragged. Just time spent waiting for everyone to go home so that I could bed down for the night. If the weather was bad I’d use shop doorways for shelter. But they carried the risk of being moved on. When it was dry like tonight, the park offered better accommodation. It was dark and quiet.

I took a final drink from the town water fountain and a visit to the public loos, then I headed for the park.

It was locked at night. Eight in the summer. Six now the nights were drawing in. It was probably around ten now and the streets were fairly empty. No one to see what I was doing.

Old wrought iron gates, Victorian with coats and coats of paint dried hard and sharp where it’d cracked were drawn across to block my way. A huge chain and padlock securing them.

It wasn’t a issue to me. I was quite agile and had done this many times. I threw my bag over the top and jumped up to grab the top of the railings. I hauled myself up and carefully stepped over the spikes, my small feet just fitting between them in the cross rail. I lowered myself a little before jumping the rest of the way.

In the dark I couldn’t see across the lawns. Only shadows thrown upon more shadows. But I knew where I was going and cut across, ignoring the paths.

There was an area sheltered from the winds. High shrubs and overhanging trees enclosed a small area where a long bench was installed. My bed for tonight.

I lay down using my backpack as a pillow and laid my jacket over myself, up over my eyes. There was no light here to block out but it gave me a comfort similar to sheets. I closed my eyes. It wasn’t a comfortable as Toms bed but it came free. No need to perform like a prossie being it’s main attraction. And I was more than able to fall asleep quickly in the worst of places.

“Uhh. What…”

A momentary daze before I was instantly alert. Pressure holding me down. The smell of alcohol and weed.

“Get off me.”

Two guys were trying to hold me to the bench. I kicked out at hands holding my legs.

“Be quiet.”

A hand went over my mouth. Others were at my clothes and I went wide eyed, twisting and struggling against my attackers.

“No.” I managed before I was muffled again.

I saw a face flash in front of mine. A crazed druggie I’d seen about now intent on raping me. His friend had my hands held firmly.

“Come on. Don’t pretend you don’t want it.”

I could hear the buckle of a belt rattle and felt cold air on my hips as with a jolt my jeans came down a way. I was terrified. My worst fears about living rough were coming to life.

“Now let’s see that sweet little pussy.”

I tried to scream, the hand slipping between my teeth and I bit. Hard.

Fuck.” He screamed out.

My hands were free and I struck out at the first guy, still busy peeling my jeans away, jabbing for the eyes. I got lucky and he jumped back screaming.

I snatched my bag and jacket, running as best I could with my jeans half way down my legs.

“Fucking bitch.

I’m gonna smash your back doors in for that.”

I grappled with my jeans and ran faster. If they caught me I didn’t doubt the threat. High on drugs these crackheads would do anything. Even kill me if I resisted. Another statistic. No once cared about homeless wasters like me. It was escape now or never. I wouldn’t get a second chance.

I had to stop and secure my jeans properly when I reached the gates. I glanced back seeing shadows moving towards me.

“Come on girl. Show us that pretty little arse.”

Fuck.”

I threw my stuff and jumped up, almost impaling myself when I missed a footing. I fell with a thump, landing on my shoulder.

I didn’t have time to worry about it. Grabbing my things I ran for the high street. Lights and cars. Windows I could break to set off alarms for attention if I had to.

“We’ll find you bitch. Then that arse is mine.”

It sounded a long way behind.

I was exhausted by the time I got to the town. Gasping breaths I sat on the pavement for a moment. There was no sign of my attackers. Safe for now.

“Jesus fuck.”

That was probably the closest shave I’d had. And the end to my sleeping in the park. I’d have to discover somewhere new. Somewhere safer.

I straightened my clothes and put my rucksack on. I wouldn’t be sleeping again tonight. And it was cold.

“Fucking hell.”

I got to my feet and started walking.

Two

With the dawn came a repeat of every other day. I wandered, sat and wandered some more.

Towards evening it’d clouded over again and the temperatures were dropping with the setting sun. It was nearly November and the first frosts would be here any day. I couldn’t imagine what January and February would be like. Perhaps I’d end up dead from hyperthermia. There were times that didn’t seem such a bad thing. But I kept going, hoping that each new day might present an opportunity.

I saw a girl not much older than me over by the taxi rank. Just hanging about in a short skirt. I’d seen her before. She was my future shelf if I wasn’t careful. Selling herself to any man with a fat wallet.

I watched as a car drew up and she leant in through the window. A few moments later and she was around to the passenger side and jumping in.

A quick fuck somewhere quiet and cash for another day. She was taking chances, more than I did. But she had a room over a shop along the high street. I knew that much about her. It probably wasn’t great but it was dry and warm. Come the really cold weather I couldn’t see how I’d avoid doing the same so that I could have a warm place to sleep.

“Crap.”

I wasn’t there yet. Not quite.

I checked what cash I had left and decided to sit in a pub. At least I’d be warm until closing.

Less than five pounds. Tomorrow would be hard, I’d have to manage with one meal. A sandwich. I’d had worse days. The day after my advantage was due so I hadn’t done too bad getting this far through the month. It wasn’t a lot but it got me by.

I slipped into a pub and ordered a coke. Of course when the doors closed I had a issue. I still hadn’t found anywhere safe to get some shut eye. After the previous night I wasn’t going back to the park, that was a certain. If those druggies found me I’d be raped. And worse.

I glanced around wondering if I might have to cheapen myself again. It wasn’t busy midweek and pickings were sparse. There might be someone here that was more pleasant than the alternative. Christ. I really wasn’t much different to the girl jumping into cars.

“All alone?”

I turned back at the realisation the question was addressed to me.

“Yeah. Just chilling.”

I smiled on autopilot at the sight of a man.

He was older than most. Thirties, and sophisticated. He looked well off. And fit. A potential I decided. Perhaps my prayers answered. I turned on my charm.

“Want to buy me a drink?”

Taking that as an invite he pulled up a stool.

“What’ll you have?”

“A gin please.”

I put on my best smile. I would have wondered I was a little young for him but he didn’t seem fazed by the age difference and I wasn’t gonna let it bother me.

The barman brought my drink and I sipped it thankfully.

“So what’s your name?”

“Jewel.”

I tipped the gin into my coke.

“Precious stone.” He commented.

Not the first to say that.

“From the Latin jocale. Meaning plaything.”

But that I hadn’t heard before. It seemed appropriate. It described what I was for quite a few men. And it seemed, a hint of his intention for me tonight.

“Precious stone is the one I prefer.” I said honestly.

The other was too close to home.

“Sorry. I wasn’t suggesting anything. Just that I read Latin at university.”

“Lot of call for Latin?”

“No. Not really.

I did business as well.”

I hadn’t even finished college properly. A crap home life wasn’t conducive to studying.

“You look like a businessman.

Sharp suit. Expensive haircut. Bet you’ve got a Jaguar or BMW outside.”

“Neither.

You look like a student.”

“I’m not.

A little thick on that front.”

I took a sip of my self made cocktail.

“Not what the eyes say.”

“My eyes?”

“Yeah.

They’re sharp, alert.

You don’t have to be academic to be intelligent. Or pretty.”

I sniggered at being called pretty. I knew I was but it still seemed funny to hear it said so brazenly. Guys usually had other words. Fit, hottie, looker. Pretty seemed old fashioned.

“I think you might be hitting on me.”

He had a smooth face, symmetrical. And I suspected a good body under that suit. I wouldn’t have any issue opening my legs for him. I was beginning to consider him an opportunity not to be missed. Better than any student.

“Hard not to.”

His eyes were studying me.

“Don’t you have a wife to go home to?”

“Heavens no. I’m not married.”

He held his hand up with his fingers outstretched.

“See. No ring.”

“That doesn’t prove a thing.”

To be honest it didn’t matter to me. It was raining outside again. I either slept under a bridge somewhere, taking my chances with the crackheads or I started making it clear to this man I was up for another exchange.

“Doesn’t matter to me if you do.”

Who knows. Perhaps he’d offer me a little cash after. He looked the sort who could afford it and would feel obligated. I hated charity or anything that close to prostitution, but sometimes it was hard not to accept reality. It was only prostitution if I asked. Otherwise it was a gift. At least that’s what I told myself.

“So are you picking me up?

The your place or mine question?”

Again he gave that smile.

“Do you want me to?”

“Why don’t you try and find out.”

I leant forward, propping my chin on my hand, keeping eye contact. I knew I had a sweet face. Rounded with a clear complexion and brown eyes that matched my hair.

“Okay. Let’s try.

Would you like to come back to mine?”

I made a fake play as if trying to decide.

“Let me see. Yeah. Okay.”

“Pick your bag up then. You’ve pulled.”

I gulped down my drink, an aversion to wasting anything, and followed him out to a flash Range Rover. Okay. I got the make wrong but my point had been right. More evidence that he had a little money. I decided to be especially nice to him. Besides he was fit. I could see it even more now he was walking. It was looking as though I’d get more than a bed from this encounter. Perhaps some enjoyment as well. That was rare.

“You haven’t told me your name yet.”

“Samuel. Sam.”

The indicators flashed with a beep as he unlocked the car and I climbed in. Leather seats and a distinct new smell. My knowledge of cars was next to nothing but I imagined it was the other side of fifty thousand. Maybe a lot more.

“Nice motor.”

The dash lit up in colours and flash looking icons on a screen. All very modern.

“Thank you.

It’s a company car.”

Then he added with a grin.

“Though I do own the company.”

Fuck me. Perhaps he was really rich.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s only a few miles. Just outside town.

Sorry about the music by the way.”

Nineties tunes filled the car. Not my choice but it was nice to hear music again. It’d been a while since I’d had anything to listen to.

“Don’t mind. It’s your car.”

I looked out through the rain droplets grateful I wasn’t out there tonight. The town passed by and turned into countryside. I started to worry about how far the walk back in the morning might be. Too far and I wouldn’t be able to slip away. I’d have to wait around and beg a lift back.

Thankfully it was only two or three miles and he turned in through some iron gates. Now I got an impression of just how wealthy this guy might be.

“Fucking hell. You live here?”

It was a mansion. A multimillion pound house with grounds illuminated from discrete lighting. Modern. All concrete and glass. It could have been built specifically for him.

“Are you royalty?”

“Hardly.

Just very successful.”

“What do you do?”

“Property. It’s a booming business if you do it right. I dabble in buy-to-let, redevelopment. Anything that turns a profit.”

“Can’t really see you up a ladder laying bricks.”

“I invest. Other people do the ladder climbing. I’m not very good with heights.”

He drew up in front of a triple garage and I thought what other cars he might have hidden away in there. I think he read my mind.

“The Jaguar and BMW are in there.”

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