The entire “good little whore” was a constant reminder of what I was, what I had become. It was humiliating. It was wrong. But fighting it was use...ess.And if I didn’t get myself off, I thought I would explode.I found an extra blanket and pillow in “my” closet on the top shelf. I retrieved them, and set up an area on the floor. It wasn’t the bed, but it was better than some places I endured before the WfD shelter. I remembered the second vibrator in my mini dresser and retrieved it as well. That. So now on just about every Friday I take off to a hotel room where I've booked a room for 2 days and have hired a girl to meet me there or in the hotel bar or some place casual.I've been doing this for about a year now and something happened in the office where one of the ladies called me to ask if I would want to be seeing her this coming weekend. DAM! Hells!~Bells! I know I haven't gaven out my work number to anyone of the lady's but some how she figured out where I worked must of slipped. More

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