22 May 2021 12:05:00

Dedicated to Violet

>>> Copyright notice from the author: All rights reserved. © / Copyright: 2017 Maria van Daarten. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author. Only CO “Legalife-Ukraine” has permission. – Translated from German to English by <<<

34 (final)

Even though it is past midnight, I am wide-awake and energized. Standing at the intersection next to the Gordens Hotel, I search traffic for a car with an illuminated taxi sign on the roof. Waving my arm to attract attention to myself, a few cabs with passengers on board stop. When the drivers ask me where I want to go, I answer:


The majority nods in a dismissive way and drive on. Some stare at me before accelerating again. Luckily, I do not have a problem being patient; after all, there is no other appointment to rush to. — It is my time off and I feel completely at ease and happy. I mean, I have made 470 euros today! That is right, 470 big ones! I repeat the number a few times in my head because I am tickled pink. This is by far the most I have made in one day. When I manage to hail a taxi, I will ask to be taken to Mikrolimano in Piraeus. It is a small harbor with colorful local fishing boats and a lively nightlife district with bars, restaurants, and cafés not far from my hotel. Today calls for a celebration, so I will treat myself to a pleasant late meal.

My phone rings. Unknown number. I step a few meters away from the curb and answer:


“Hi! Are you free?”

The noise of passing traffic muffles the party on the other end.

“Yes, I am. My name is Anika. With whom am I speaking, please?”

“This is Ladis. — How much do you cost?”

“I charge 150 an hour. Anything else you’d like to know?”

“Yes. What do you look like?”

“I’m blonde with blue eyes and a slim figure.”

“Okay. Can you come to my hotel room right now?”

Considering I am not tired and there is the possibility to make another 150, I decide to service one more client. I ask:
“What’s the name of the hotel? Which district is it in?”

“I’m at the Emma Hotel in Piraeus. It’s near the harbor. So, can you come?”

Piraeus is perfect! I might not know the Emma Hotel, but I am certain I can find it.

“Yes, but it’ll be another 45 minutes to an hour before I can get there.”

“That’s fine.”

“Okay, but I need your name, the hotel address and phone number, and, obviously, your room number. I’ll call you back to re-confirm and be there at the agreed upon time, okay?”

“Yes, okay. Hold on. — The number of the Emma Hotel is 210 45117000. It’s on Notara Street 141. I’m in room 22.”

Awkwardly, I stand there and search my handbag for a notepad and pen and say:

“Okay. Can you repeat it?”

Ladis relays the information again and I quickly scribble it down.

“Thanks. All right, I’ll call you right back. What’s your last name?”

“Ladis will do just fine.”

“Of course! Talk to you soon.”

I hang up and immediately dial the number of the Emma Hotel. A man answers and says something in Greek that I do not understand. In English, I ask:

“Please connect me with Mr. Ladis in room 22.”

The man remains silent and connects me. Ladis answers after the second ring.

“Is that you, Ladis?”

“Yes. — So, are you on your way?”

“As soon as I hang up. See you in a bit, Ladis!”

“Great and hurry up.”

Hurry up – how am I supposed to hurry up? The commute will take as long as it takes. I suspect Ladis has had a few too many drinks. But as long as he is not too inebriated, I do not have a problem seeing him. I do not like appointments with men who are completely toasted. Walking back to the curb, I look and wave at cabs again. By the time I finally catch one, it is 12:45 a.m. Although the taxi driver does not know where the Emma Hotel is, he knows Notara Street. I am positive he will be able to find it. I reach into my handbag for my compact and check my appearance. Considering it is the middle of the night, I look fine. I spray a little Must de Cartier behind my ears. The cab driver quickly turns around and says:

“That smells good, miss.”

“Thank you!”

I am hoping my next customer will have the same reaction. After a while, the taxi driver slows and pulls into a narrow road. Soon after, he points to the dim neon sign of the Emma Hotel. He stops, I pay, and get out. The Emma Hotel is a three-story building that does not differ significantly from the neighboring homes. Light shines through a few windows on the first and second level. I push the ajar entrance door all the way and step into the foyer. On my left is a small reception desk with an elderly gentleman sitting behind it, who is busy watching a talk show on TV.

“Good evening,” I quietly say in passing. Ladis did not tell me to be discreet, but considering the hour, I do not need to attract unnecessary attention. So, I simply behave as if I belong, continue on and walk up the staircase. On the second-floor, I hear soft music coming from one of the rooms. After finding room 22, I quickly smooth out my dress before knocking. Ladis opens the door and asks me in. He is tall with thick brown hair and dark eyes. His jeans have holes and his sleeveless T-Shirt shows off the tattoos on his upper arms. I estimate he is in his early 30s.

“Hi, sweetie!” I say and offer my cheek for a welcome kiss.

“Hi,” he says, giving me a cursory peck. He closes the door and we walk through a short, narrow hallway passing the open bathroom door on the left and into the small main room. It has one single bed pushed into a corner. The other furnishings are a wardrobe, a small table with two chairs, and a shelf holding a TV and a few personal items. — That is it. Attached to the ceiling is a spotlight, its beam directed at the pillow on the bed. I am definitely not lying there with my face under that bright light. It might make me look even older than I already am. The light next to the table is much softer and dimmer and it will absolutely suffice for my work. Ladis comes up behind me and grabs my butt. I place my hat on the table before turning to face him.

“Darling, I need to briefly use the bathroom. May I?”

“Sure, go ahead,” he says, “but hurry back, I want to fuck!”

Although I smell alcohol on him, he does not seem drunk. The bathroom is also small. There is no stool nor does it have a free hook to hang my dress on. Placing my handbag in the dry sink, I undress and slip on my sexy red lingerie set. I am satisfied with my reflection after inspecting myself in the mirror. Grabbing my dress and handbag, I walk back into the room to find Ladis bare-chested, sitting on the edge of the bed smoking a cigarette. Discarding my things on one of the chairs, I approach Ladis. He immediately extinguishes his cigarette and pulls me toward him. The light! The light over the bed must be off!

“Baby, can you do me a favor and turn the ceiling light off? It shines right in my eyes. And we want it cozy, don’t we?”

“I don’t care about cozy! I just want to fuck you!” Ladis says curtly and makes no move to switch off the light.

“Oh, come on! It bothers me. — Please turn it off!” I try sweet-talking him. If I knew where the light switch was, I would turn it off myself. I do not care much for Ladis’ manners. As if reading my mind, he asks:

“What’s wrong? You don’t like it here? Are you used to better accommodations? You’re charging 150, that’s a hell of a lot of dough. — And you have to perform accordingly! I make the rules, not you, is that clear?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, the light stays on! And I’m going to tell you how this goes down. So, do you want to stop complaining and make some money or what?”

I really do not like the sound of this, but I think it is best not to argue with him. Calmly, I answer pleasantly:

“Yes, of course! — Come on, baby, let’s forget about it and have some fun. — It’s why you wanted me here, right? Leave the light on if it’s that important to you!”

“All right. So, entertain me!” he says and pulls me onto his lap. I slide the thin material underneath my breasts and thrust them out toward him while I grab one of his hands and place it between my spread legs. Thankfully, he stops talking and busies himself with my genitals. I am still not happy about the unflattering spotlight, but it is what it is. Perhaps I will eventually locate the elusive switch and turn it off myself! Ladis pushes my panties aside and rather roughly inserts his middle finger into my pussy. Since it is dry, it hurts. Although I am really unhappy and experiencing a great deal of discomfort, I clamp my teeth together and remain quiet so as to not upset him again. Ladis vigorously sucks and bites one of my nipples. This hurts too, and since I cannot tolerate the pain any longer, I say imploringly:

“Not so hard, baby! That hurts… — My nipples are incredibly sensitive!”

Thankfully, he abides by my wish without complaint and immediately sucks my nipple more gently. Reaching for his cock, I find his erection straining against the jeans, so I start rubbing my hand over the denim. While he is still raping my pussy with his middle finger, I open his fly and say:

“Sweetie, let me get to your cock. I’m so turned on by how hard it is. I want to suck it. Come on, let me have it!”

“You’ll get it all right,” he replies in his usual curt and rude manner. I do not let it bother me and slide off his legs. He quickly yanks his jeans off and tosses them passed the bed onto the floor. Ladis wears tight-fitting black underwear, which he also removes and carelessly throws onto the floor. Ladis is quite an unpleasant customer, but I guess I can stomach him for another 30 minutes until my time is up! And, he is not the first client to be rough with me. I take a condom out of the pouch and as I am about to roll it over his penis, he grabs my hand and gruffly says:

“Hey! — I want to have fun! We’re not using that thing.”

Whoa! Could he be any ruder? I can oblige him while performing oral sex, but definitely not during actual intercourse!

“Look, sexy, I don’t mind sucking your dick without a rubber, but I won’t have you come in my mouth! Understand? And, if you want to fuck me, you better get used to the idea of wearing that thing! If not, you can forget about it. I’m serious. If you’re not happy with that, I can dress and leave. We will simply forget about the entire affair. So, what do you say?”

“All right, you can put that thing on before we fuck. So, continue and really get me going!”

What a prick! I am never seeing him again! I could not execute this job if every customer was like him! Thankfully, clients like him do not come around often. I ignore my dislike for the man and continue doing my job so I can leave! Kneeling on the hard floor in front of him, I take his damn rod in my mouth and start blowing him. Considering I have run my tongue over his cock and balls for a while, I look at him and humbly ask:

“Do you want to fuck me now, baby?”

“Yes, lie down on the bed. I’m going to fuck you real good, you little slut!”

Once again, I ignore him and the remark because this is the first and last time he is going to put his hands on me. I simply want it over with and to get the hell out of here! Removing my underwear, I set it on the chair along with the rest of my clothes. I approach the narrow bed stark naked and lie down. What do you know, right next to the headboard is the light switch for the ceiling spotlight, which I immediately turn off. Ha! I get my way after all!

“Spread your legs wide!” Ladis orders rudely. He does not even comment about the light. Perhaps he did not notice. Holding the condom up for him to see, I say:

“Should I put it on or do you want to do it yourself?”

“Just give me that damn thing!” he hisses. He rips open the wrapper with his teeth and quickly rolls the rubber over his cock. At least he did not protest. Hopefully, he will not take long for the finale. This guy is such a boor! Ladis pushes himself between my legs and shoves his cock into me with one forceful move. He is hurting me!

“Put your hands behind your head. I want to grab hold of them,” he growls after a few thrusts in the missionary position. Although I do not like it, I yield to avoid another argument and to get it over with now that we are in the final act. When I cross my hands above my head, he pulls them apart and grabs each wrist. Pressing me firmly against the mattress so I cannot move, he starts slamming his cock into me as if trying to reach my throat. Like a man possessed, he quickly and forcefully continues thrusting. With each drive, his loins slam against my pubic bone. My wrists also hurt from his tight grip. Ladis is strong and I cannot move my arms whatsoever. Right now, I am completely at his mercy. I only hope this session is soon over! With a reddened head and veins on his forehead clearly visible, he maintains his gaze on where the action takes place. Tense and in pain, I put up with his rough rabbit number. I hope the condom remains intact. It seems like an eternity has passed when he suddenly stops moving. He twitches and jerks, then muffles his cries as he starts ejaculating. At once, all the strength he possessed a few moments ago evaporates. His arms tremble but maintain their grip on my wrists as his midriff collapses onto me. He lays motionless. Finally, he releases my wrists and gets off! My shoulders, neck, arms, pussy, and pubic bone — everything hurts! Although I am furious and want to scream at him now that it is over, I breathe a sigh of relief. Since my arms feel numb, I rotate my wrists and wiggle my fingers to get the circulation flowing again. Ladis sits on the edge of the bed smoking a cigarette. Charming as ever, he does not even look at me when he says:

“Okay, now make yourself scarce.”

At the moment, I cannot imagine anything I would enjoy more! I get up and grab my lingerie before disappearing into the bathroom. Examining my wrists, I notice they are still red and tender from his tight hold. What a fucking degenerate asshole! Nevertheless, I will not say anything and will remain cordial, for my intuition tells me not to criticize this man for the way he treated me. I quickly freshen up and forego the shower. All I want is to get out of here as soon as possible. Nothing else matters! Back in the room, I quickly slip on my dress and pack my things. Ladis is still sitting in the same place smoking, but now he is in his underwear looking at his phone. Once again, he simply ignores me, which is fine with me. When I am ready to leave, I stand between him and the door and say:

“Okay, please pay me my money and I’m out of here.”

“What money?”

He raises his head and gives me a dark look.

“My fee of 150.”

“Ha, you want money? What for? Because I fucked you?”

Ladis offers a dismissive and evil-sounding laugh. I remain calm and say:

“We discussed this on the phone and you agreed, — so please hold up your end of the bargain. I came here and let you fuck me. I’ve done my job!”

I can tell he did not expect me to talk back and he immediately becomes angry. Should I have just left?

“Fine,” he says grumpily and then adds, “but I don’t have enough cash on me. I am going to call my friend and he’ll bring it. — Sit down over there for the time being!”

His voice has an underlying threatening intonation. I think it is better if I leave! Suddenly I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Ladis gets up and stands in front of me, pointing at the chair beside the table.

“I told you to sit over there!” he orders again.

Damn, I should not have insisted on being paid! In an appeasing tone, I say:

“Okay, okay. — Don’t worry about it! I’m just going to leave now! Don’t bother your friend. I wouldn’t want to put you in an awkward position. Sorry!”

As I am about to leave, he rushes over, grabs an upper arm tightly, and hisses at me:

“I told you to sit your ass down over there! I’m calling my friend now. — So don’t worry, he’ll pay you all right!”

He drags me back to the table and forcefully pushes me into the chair. God, I am such an idiot! What have I gotten myself into? Ladis is talking to someone on the phone, but not in Greek. I am not familiar with the language. Is it Russian? He might be Russian or Albanian, I have no idea, but that he is not speaking Greek worries me! He never takes his eyes off me while on the phone. Now and then, he laughs sardonically. My hearts starts pounding as I sit there in the chair. All kinds of thoughts flash through my mind. I am scared. What type of friend can he have? I am sure he will not be coming here to pay me. Maybe they are going to rape me! My God, I have more than 600 euros on me. Perhaps they are going to steal my money, passport, credit card, and phone! Who knows what men like this are capable of? I am in danger! — I must escape! As soon as possible! — But how? It is obvious Ladis will not let me go. Blood rushes from my head and I feel dizzy. My heart feels as if it is about to burst and my lips start to tremble. Should I try to talk to him again? Better not. It is what enraged Ladis to begin with. Since he has been talking to his friend, he is in a much better mood. That is not a good sign! What can I do? Ladis lights up another cigarette.

“Where are you from?” I break the silence from sheer embarrassment while trying to keep the concern in my voice in check. Intuition tells me I should not show any fear!

“I’m from Albania,” he replies curtly.

“Ah,” I murmur, aware of how difficult it is to hide my fear. Anxiously I wait on the edge of the wooden chair with my sun hat firmly clutched in my hands. After a while, when nothing happens, my fear intensifies. Watching Ladis out of the corner of my eye, I see him fiddling around with his phone before making another call. I presume it is the friend he called earlier. From the sound of it, it seems he asked a question and did not get the answer he wanted for he immediately becomes angry again. Perhaps his buddy cannot get here soon enough for him? Who knows, I am merely guessing. Once again, he rarely takes his eyes off me while on the phone. He is visibly upset when he hangs up and snuffs out his cigarette in the ashtray. Walking toward the bathroom, he stops, turns around, and shoots me a nasty look. With an underlying threat in his voice, he says:

“Stay put, don’t move! I’m merely taking a piss. And so you know, I’m leaving the bathroom door open, so don’t get any stupid ideas or you’ll regret it!”

As he says this, he menacingly shakes a finger at me. I swallow the lump in my throat. — This is my chance to escape! As soon as he disappears into the bathroom, I lean down and with trembling fingers hastily remove my shoes. My heart beats so fiercely that I hear it echoing in my head. Although my legs feel numb, instinct takes over as soon as I hear Ladis flipping up the toilet seat. With my shoes and purse in hand, I take off at lightning speed and run barefoot to the door. All I can think about is getting out of here. Now! I make it to the door without Ladis noticing my escape attempt. Thankfully, the toilet is positioned so that his back is facing the threshold of the open bathroom door. As I fling open the door, he hears me. I start running for my life, heading toward the staircase. My head pounds like it is going to explode. I move on autopilot and literally fly down the staircase. I make it one floor down, then another. I cannot hear myself think or if Ladis is following me. It does not matter; fear motivates my legs and I continue running as fast as I can! Not paying any attention to the old man at the reception desk and not knowing whether he even noticed me, I sprint out of the hotel and run barefoot down the dark road at full speed. Holding my handbag close with my right arm so it does not swing around on its shoulder strap, I clutch my shoes in my left hand and keep running. Without caring if I am traveling in the right direction, I haul ass away from that hellhole. All that matters is getting as far away as possible. The constant pounding in my head is giving me a headache. My heart is still beating fiercely and I cannot judge how much distance I have placed between myself and the hotel by the time I feel the first signs of exhaustion. There is no other choice but to slow down and, for the first time, I turn around to see if I am being pursued. Ladis is nowhere in sight! This realization makes me breathe a little easier! All I see are a few pedestrians I did not perceive as I rushed by. Further ahead, I notice a busy street much brighter than the dark side street I am currently on. Still acting on instinct, I keep walking and look nervously behind me repeatedly. At that moment, I become aware that I am still barefoot, so I quickly set my shoes down and wipe the soles of my feet with a tissue before slipping them on. It seems I have managed to escape unscathed from that man and his plans for me. Although my heart is still beating rapidly, I am able to think clearly again. Taking a few slow and even breaths, I feel myself calming down. Holding out my arm and looking at my hand, it shakes as if I had Parkinson’s disease. Arriving at the brightly lit wide street, I realize it is the coastal road. Across the street, separated by a fence, large cruise ships are berthed. Pedestrians walk by me and cars blast their horns as they cross an intersection where the traffic light has turned green. I have often seen this practice and yet, I do not have an explanation for it. With each passing minute, I become calmer.

Thank you! — Thank you, thank you, thank you, I whisper, thanking my lucky stars. Thank you!

Sunshine, Sex & Easy Money: Diary of a Call Girl, Maria van Daarten

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