The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Would you stop saying that!” Kathy was sure her scream had carried even through the sound-proofed walls of the study room. That’s all I need, she thought, everyone in the library telling me to shut up. Kathy grimaced as she felt the stress-induced stiffness in her shoulders. Slowly she forced her hands to unclench from the fists they had become. Across the table from her the object of her anger, her project partner David, was slumped in his chair. His visible relaxation contrasted sharply with Kathy’s obvious tension.

“Saying what?” he asked. His face wore a faint look of surprise, but Kathy was sure that David knew what she meant. She forced herself to straighten from the hunched position she had assumed as she tried, and failed, to hold in her anger.

“Logic tells us, the only logical conclusion, logic dictates,” she spat. Kathy could feel her head quivering with each phrase, as she tried to control herself. She finished with a derisive noise and swivelled in her chair, so she didn’t have to look at her partner.

“What’s wrong with that?” David’s tone was one of bemusement. “Logic’s a useful tool.”

Kathy rolled her eyes and looked back at him. “Maybe, but you say something like that all … the ... time.” She thrust a pointed finger at him with each of the last three words, emphasising her point. “What do you think you are, some kind of Vulcan?”

David raised his eyebrows. A slight smile crossed his features, one Kathy knew well. It meant David thought he was control of whatever discussion as going on. It simply made her angry every time she saw it. Especially as, above the smile, his eyes, like pools of dark water, showed nothing. You can’t trust a smile that doesn’t reach the eyes, thought Kathy.

“See,” Kathy exclaimed, “I can get nerd points too, you know.” Kathy had been happy to get David as her partner for this assignment. He was always amongst the best in the classes they shared. Not that she was a poor student either; her results were almost as good as his. Together she’d thought they’d easily do a high-class piece of work. But his constant insistence on dry, totally logical, argument was infuriating her. Kathy thought of herself as a sensible person. She knew that logic had its place. But this wasn’t mathematics, or philosophy. Sociology needed more than logic, it needed understanding, an empathy with the topic. David’s emotionless approach missed important aspects of the problem. You need the right mix of tools for each problem, she’d said, there’s no such thing as the one way to solve everything. She’d tried arguing, pleading, even, she sighed, rational and logical discussion. But David wouldn’t be moved. He seemed convinced that logic was superior in all circumstances.

“What,” David’s voice drew her attention back to the study room, “if I could convince you of the power of logic?”

“How?” Kathy’s brow furrowed. She looked suspiciously at her partner, trying to guess what he was up to. David was still half-slumped in his chair, that infuriating smile dominating his features.

“If I could convince you to do something you don’t want to do, simply by logical argument, would you admit that logic is superior?” His tone was even, his eyes showed a flicker of light, like a reflection on a deep lake, bright but revealing nothing of what was in the depths.

“You could get me to do something I don’t want to by pointing a gun at me,” Kathy shot back. “Doesn’t mean the gun’s superior.”

“Ah but,” said David, leaning forward and, for the first time, showing real interest in their discussion. He clasped his hands together on the desk that separated them. “That’s all about force or the threat of force. I’m talking about a logical argument.”

My god, thought Kathy, he’s so full of himself. As if. But if I win it will put him in his place and we can finally get this work done.

“Ok,” she said slowly, “ok. Something I don’t want to do?”

“Yes,” replied David, watching her intently, “by logical argument alone.”

Kathy had been thinking feverishly. What could she suggest? A little part of her was worried she might lose. Kathy knew that nothing in this world is absolutely certain and David’s obvious confidence had planted a small seed of doubt in her mind. She smiled as an idea occurred to her.

“All right,” she said, “if you can convince me to run naked down the hall of my college floor I’ll admit you’re right.” The other night a game of truth or dare between Kathy and her friends in the residential college had gone a little bit further than she’d liked. She’d chickened out when dared to strip and run down the hall and back. Kathy still didn’t want to do it, but if she did lose to David it would fix the mess she’d gotten into. Ruby, the girl that had dared her, had promised an even more embarrassing dare next time if Kathy wouldn’t do the one she’d been set. If Kathy could bring herself to do it, then she could throw something even more outrageous at Ruby.

“No,” said David firmly.

“What?” Kathy was confused. “You’re giving up without even trying?”

“Not at all,” replied David, smiling widely, “but I’m going to set the challenge. Logic tells me you’d try for a win-win. If we let you choose, you’ll make it something that looks like you wouldn’t want to do it, but it’d be something you think you could live with. If you refuse to do whatever it is, despite my arguments, you win, but even if you agree, you don’t really lose, because you didn’t really object in the first place. Logically I should choose, and then we see if your negative reaction is genuine enough.”

Kathy’s head whirled. She tried to think of a way around his argument. She felt a hint of fear about what he might choose, but she could see his point. David would never agree to something that smelt as if she was cheating. And if she pulled out now she knew he’d take it as an admission that he was right all along. Desperately she tried to think of something else that she could persuade him she didn’t want to do, but she’d actually be able to live with. Failing, she sighed in surrender.

“Ok,” she said, resigned, “ok then, what do you want to try?”

David looked at her, his gaze never leaving her eyes. Ripples, she thought wildly, if his eyes were really like dark water there should be ripples. She couldn’t see anything in them. “Well, if I can convince you, by logical argument alone, to become a prostitute, will you admit the superiority of logic?”

“What?” Kathy screamed at the top of her voice. The arrogant, sexist piece of shit. How dare he? No way, no way was she agreeing to this. “You fuck. What the hell? If this is some insane way of trying to get me into bed then you’re nuts.” Kathy had to stop herself storming out of the room. However much she was tempted she knew that David would claim any retreat on her part as a victory for him and she would never hear the end of it. Instead she stayed in her seat, fuming at him. “What do you think I am?”

“Well,” replied David evenly, “at the moment I think you’re not a prostitute.”

Damn right, thought Kathy, glowering at him. “Of course I’m not, you piece of shit. Oh, I don’t even know why I’m still listening to you.” She threw her hands in the air, but despite her protestations a thought seeped into her mind. No way would David be able to persuade her to, to, well, sell herself. What a joke. This was going to be too easy. They could sit here all night. It wouldn’t matter what he said, no way would she ever be some cheap slut whoring herself around. She was never going to let him forget who won this debate.

“Of course you’re not a prostitute,” David’s tone was soothing, like warm water washing over her feet. “If the aim is to convince you to do something you wouldn’t do otherwise, then it has to be something you aren’t already doing.” He didn’t say it was logical, but Kathy could almost hear him adding the words.

“I think we can see from your reaction,” he continued, “that we’ve found the subject of our discussion. And as to why you’re still here, well you want to win. Competition is a natural human activity.”

“All right then Einstein,” retorted Kathy, sarcastically, “go ahead, convince me to be a whore.” Not a chance fucker, not a chance.

“Well, why don’t you tell me why you aren’t?”

“What?” Kathy spluttered. “I don’t need a reason. You have to convince me.”

“Of course you need a reason. If you’re not taking an action there must be a reason for that lack of action. You’re not a prostitute. Logically,” Kathy could hear a slight emphasis on the word, “you must have a reason.”

“Well why should I tell you anyway?” Kathy didn’t bother to keep a note of derision out of her voice. “I don’t have to justify myself to you, you have to convince me.”

“Ah,” said David, “but logic works on assumptions. It’s a powerful tool, but even I admit it’s nothing without the proper basis. Try to construct a logical argument on false foundations and you fail. Garbage in, garbage out. If you don’t give me the proper context in which to construct my arguments then it’s not a proper test and we won’t have settled anything.”

Kathy hesitated. She didn’t want to answer him. Justifying why she wasn’t a prostitute was just, just. Stupid. That’s what it was, stupid. Wasn’t that turning the argument on its head? This arrogant bastard was supposed to be trying to convince her. Not that he ever would. She shouldn’t have to explain herself to him. But Kathy knew that if she didn’t say something then David would take her reluctance as concession on her part. She was determined not to lose.

“This is ridiculous. I don’t need a reason and I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

David stayed silent as Kathy glared at him.

“All right, all right you shit. I’ve got lots of reasons.” Kathy was sure she would win. As she mentally sorted through the arguments she could use her feelings of assurance grew. Oh this is too easy, thought Kathy. She was almost having to work at stopping her confidence overwhelming her outrage. “It’s degrading, the women are just treated as objects. Why would I want to put myself in that position?” What rock did this guy live under?

“Hmm,” replied David, “yes I’ve often heard that said. Let’s examine that. Could you give me a little more detail?”

Hah! Her first reason and he couldn’t even think of a come-back. “The man’s just there for what he wants. He’s got no thought for her at all.”

“Yes. I can see that.” Kathy was getting suspicious, why was David giving in so easily? She frowned as he continued. “So the man pays for a service. He gets that service. He doesn’t care anything about the feelings of the person giving that service.”

“Right. Ready to give up now?” Kathy thought she should have taken on this sexist pig ages ago. He didn’t have half the brains he thought he did.

“Not at all.” What? He wasn’t giving up? “It sounds to me like any service industry. A person who orders a coffee pays their money and gets their service. They don’t care about the feelings of the barista. You work in a coffee shop don’t you?”

Kathy’s eyes widened. Had David just compared her job to prostitution? No, that wasn’t right. He hadn’t said they were the same. But the implication was clear. Wasn’t it?

“Working in a coffee shop is nothing like being a prostitute!” Kathy’s anger was boiling to the surface again.

“Did I say that? I didn’t mean to, my apologies if I misspoke. I simply meant that they were both service industries and you work in a service industry. Do you dispute that?”

“Well, n-no,” Kathy stammered, “but they’re not the same,” she hurriedly added.

“Of course not,” David cut in, “if they were the same you’d already be a prostitute and logically this conversation would be moot.”

“Now that I’ve dealt with your first argument, let me offer one of my own.”

What? How had he dealt with it? Kathy was confused. She had to struggle to get her thoughts back in order. Part of her wanted to argue but something stopped her. For a moment her thoughts felt sluggish, like a hand being dragged through water. Kathy feared that if she objected David would draw more comparisons between prostitution and her job. She didn’t want to give him that opening and she did have to admit sometimes her job did feel a little degrading. Working in the coffee shop didn’t pay well and some of the customers looked at her as, well, as if they were imagining her naked or something. Mostly men, but sometimes women as well. She was still sure that being a prostitute was more degrading, but she had to admit most of her customers treated her as an object that was there just to get their coffee, not as a person. But it wasn’t as bad as being a prostitute. Was it? No, of course it wasn’t. So why did she have the nagging feeling it had taken too much effort to convince herself of that?

David had continued speaking while Kathy’s mind wandered. She shook her head and tried to catch up.

“Now, if I may offer a reason of my own. Being a prostitute would make you a lot more money than your job in the coffee shop.”

Kathy smiled. After the confusion of a moment ago she felt her confidence returning. She’d known this argument was coming. It was about the only one he could put up.

“Huh,” she said, unwilling to concede, “a lot of whores give it away cheap.”

“True, but we’re not talking about a lot of whores. I didn’t say I would convince you to be a cheap whore.” Too right, you piece of filth, thought Kathy, like that would ever happen. “But let’s talk about you. I would say you’re attractive. Beautiful even. I’m sure you’ve been told that before.”

Kathy could see where this was going. She knew she was attractive. She didn’t flaunt it and tried not to let it go to her head, but she had to admit she was fortunate in her looks. Didn’t mean she was going to drop her panties for the first man to flash his wallet at her.

“Doesn’t mean anything,” she muttered.

“But have you thought about how much you could earn? High class escorts can earn more in one or two nights than a university professor earns in a week. I can see you in that area. You don’t want to be on the streets, do you?”

Of course she wouldn’t want to work the streets. What sort of a girl did David think she was? But that sort of money? She’d never known that was possible. Compared to what she made in the coffee shop that would be, be, well, wow. But no way was she going to whore herself, even for that kind of cash. But that sort of money, and being able to cut back the long hours she worked? Kathy remembered the times she’s had to put off university work because she had a shift and desperately needed the money. That much money for only one or two nights a week? Wow. No stop it, that’s stupid, she told herself. Kathy forced herself to remember what she would be doing to get that money.

“You’ve told me before that money’s tight.”

Oh god, she thought, if only there was some other way to get that much cash. It’d make her life so much easier.

“So you have to admit that is one reason in favour.”

Kathy wanted to say no. She was so tempted to say no. But she knew that it would be an obvious lie if she disagreed. David wouldn’t let her get away with that.

“Ok, ok, the money would be good, but it’s not worth it,” She said finally.

“Well, let’s just say it’s one in the pro column, now give me some more cons.”

Kathy let herself relax. She felt that she’d dealt with his big argument. Yes, the money was hard to argue against. Images of large piles of cash spilling around her like water kept drifting into her thoughts, no matter how she tried to keep them out. Having that easy a source of money would make her life so much simpler. She’d have so much more time for her studies. Angrily Kathy told herself that no matter how much money it was, it wasn’t worth it. Still determined to win she picked what she thought was another winning argument.

“Health problems. Having sex with so many men you’d have high chances of getting an STD. Not to mention the chance that one of them might decide to beat you up or even kill you.”

David shook his head. “Logical fallacy Kathy.” Kathy bridled at the condescension in his voice. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped as David held up his hand. “My turn now.”

Kathy felt the confusion returning. Why had she let him shut her up like that?

“You’re equating all prostitutes with the ones in the worst positions. You can’t point at a faulty car and say ‘this car has a steering problem, therefore all cars have steering problems’. Likewise you can’t say that because some prostitutes work under certain conditions then all prostitutes work under those conditions. I agree that prostitutes that allow themselves to have unprotected sex are at very high risk. But then a woman in a relationship who has unprotected sex with her partner could be said to be putting herself at more risk than a prostitute who always uses protection.”

Hang on, thought Kathy, is he saying that a prostitute is safer from STDs than a normal woman? That’s rubbish. Isn’t it? What about trust? If you know you’re partner is faithful, then you’re safe. So where was the doubt inside her coming from? Where was the thought coming from that without protection she’d never be safe? She could feel another idea, creeping up on her like a tide up a beach. Watch it and it doesn’t seem any higher. Take your attention a way for a moment and the water was almost on you. The idea that with protection it didn’t matter how many partners she had.

“And as to your point about dangers from customers, well, look at the figures for assaults on professions such as medicine. High class establishments and agencies can afford to vet patrons and have procedures to deal with situations before they turn nasty. It provides far more safety than most professionals enjoy.”

Oh come on, he was making that up. Wasn’t he? But Kathy had heard that nurses in hospitals were at high risk of assault. She couldn’t stop images invading her mind. Strong, capable figures, paid purely to make sure nothing bad happened to her, nothing got out of hand. No, no, not her, to the girls. Not her. Shit. Had she just imagined herself working as a prostitute? Shit. Fuck. Shit. She had to stop any thoughts like that sneaking in.

“So again, I think my point has been made. Do you have any more objections?”

What? Kathy cursed herself for again letting her attention wander. She had to stop doing that. More objections? Sure, she had lots more yet. She wasn’t finished with this idiot by a long way.

“Once you’ve been a prostitute that’s it. Even if you gave it up it could ruin whatever other career you tried to have if someone found out.” Kathy was sure she didn’t want that sort of fear hanging over her head forever.

“Certainly some people would hold it against you if you ever worked in the sex industry.” Kathy was suspicious now. David seemed to be using the tactic of appearing to agree before tearing down her objections. What would he try this time? “But then people also have a low opinion of used-car salesmen. My apologies. We’re supposed to be using logic, not humour, aren’t we? And yes, it might be an issue if it ever became known. But I doubt it would be information that you’d volunteer. And if you are considering this as a source of support while you are at university then there wouldn’t be an obvious hole in your CV.” Considering this? thought Kathy, I’m not considering anything.

“No I’m not”, she whispered. She hadn’t meant to say anything. Desperately she closed her mouth tightly, hoping David hadn’t heard anything.

“Sorry, what was?” Oh no, he’d heard.

“You’re not considering whether to be a prostitute or not? Of course you are Kathy. We are having a discussion where my aim to is to convince you to be a prostitute. Your aim is to refute my arguments. You must concede there is at least the hypothetical possibility that I will succeed. Therefore you are in a discussion about whether to be a prostitute or not. Even if you say you don’t want to be a prostitute you can only reach that conclusion after considering the arguments presented. Therefore you are considering it. Simple logic.”

Kathy wanted to protest. She didn’t want to be a prostitute. But she couldn’t find a fault in David’s argument. To say no to a question you had to consider the question. Therefore she had to admit that she was considering being a prostitute. But hadn’t she already decided she wouldn’t? So then she wasn’t considering it. Kathy knew that if she made that argument David would claim that their discussion was still happening. And that she couldn’t make a final decision until it was over. So at least technically she was still considering it. David’s argument was like a wave, washing over her, smothering her objections. Kathy felt her shoulders slump slightly.

“To return to the immediate point. Certainly you would want to take steps to prevent any links being made between your activities as a prostitute and any later career you may wish to pursue. I am sure that any establishment or agency for which you worked would support efforts at discretion on your part. It would be in their interests, and the interests of their clients as well. Working under an assumed name and being careful about both payment methods and who was aware of your activities would suffice in most cases. At the very least plausible deniability would be maintained. Bottom line if anyone asked, now or in the future, you’d have to lie. But people tell comfortable lies to their friends all the time.”

Lie to her friends? Could she do that? Well, Kathy admitted to herself, people lie to each other all the time. Little lies, to protect each other. She didn’t tell her friends everything, she was sure they didn’t tell her. Would it be that big a deal? She shook her head to stop that train of thought. She didn’t want to be a prostitute. So why was she thinking about how to keep it from her friends?

“And it’s not as socially unacceptable as it used to be. Did you know that a recent survey found that one-third of university students in Berlin would consider work in the sex industry to support their studies? And that four per cent had already engaged in such work? I wonder how many of those that said no were lying?”

Wow, thought Kathy, wow, four per cent. That’s, that’s one in twenty five. That was about how many people were in one of her tutorials. One person in each of her tutorials was already a sex worker? Kathy couldn’t help herself from wondering which one it was. She realised that averages sometimes lie, and maybe none were. But if some classes had none, then maybe there were two or three in another class. Kathy could feel her head spin. She wondered how she was going to manage in her next class, slyly looking around her fellows trying to decide which one might be a sex worker. And ok, not all sex workers were prostitutes. There were strippers, and lap dancers. But some were in prostitution, and they were the ones that probably brought in the most money.

“So,” David concluded, “so now we have agreed that discretion can be maintained and that socially the stigma attached to prostitution is not what it used to be.”

Well that was a relief, thought Kathy. What? Hang on, why was she relieved? It would only be a relief if she was genuinely considering being a prostitute. And no way was she doing that. But then hadn’t she just agreed that she was considering it? No, despite David’s arguments Kathy was still sure she didn’t want to be a prostitute. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Why couldn’t she argue against his points more forcefully? She had to be able to do better than this. Kathy shook her head angrily, trying to clear her thoughts. And had they just agreed about something? Kathy hadn’t said she agreed. But then she hadn’t disagreed either.

“My turn again,” said David. “Do you like sex?”

Again Kathy could see where David would take his argument. Regardless, doubt plagued her, if his arguments were so obvious then why she having so much difficulty combatting them? She was tempted to refuse to answer, but she knew David wouldn’t let her stonewall.

“Y-yes”, she answered, hesitantly.

“Don’t be shy,” chided David. “do you have a boyfriend at the moment?”

“No, I don’t.” What did that matter?, wondered Kathy.

“Hmm, but when you did, how often did you have sex?”

“Umm,” prevaricated Kathy. This was too personal. Much as she didn’t want to answer she realised David would insist. “Most days.”

“Only once a day?”

“No, sometimes more,” Kathy answered in a half-whisper, embarrassed.

“Well, unless you’re a particularly giving person, I think we can say you like sex a lot.”

Kathy’s anger overrode her embarrassment. How could he just sit there and say things like that? “You shit. Just because there was nothing wrong with my relationships doesn’t mean I’d whore myself out to anyone who came along.”

“I agree,” David’s reasonable tone just infuriated Kathy even further, so why was she just sitting there and listening to him? “The latter is not supported by the former alone. However, that is not my point. My point is that you enjoy sex. Do you deny it?”

“No-o”

“So if you enjoy sex, you must enjoy the act of sex, yes?” Kathy’s eyes narrowed. ‘Sex’ and the ‘act of sex’? Why was David making a distinction? There was something here she was missing.

“Yes, I think you do. I think you enjoy having a cock, if you’ll excuse the vulgarity, in your pussy. I think you enjoy the feeling of it filling you up, sliding out, slamming back in.”

Kathy squirmed in her chair. She knew the way David was speaking was wrong, that she should object. Instead, to her horror, she could feel herself becoming aroused by his description. She pushed her thighs together, desperately fighting the mental image of a big hard cock stretching her pussy. No, no, she thought, this isn’t right. Her thoughts raced as she desperately tried to think of something to throw back at David.

“Oh,” Kathy said, drawing a deep breath, “oh I get it. You’re trying to get me to equate enjoying sex with somebody I’m happy to have it with to enjoying it with just anyone. Now you’re making a logical fallacy.”

“If I was insisting on that conclusion,” David cut in, “then you would be correct. I agree that one does not automatically follow from the other. That was not what I was doing. I simply raise it as a possibility. Do you agree that a woman who enjoys the act of sex regardless of her partner would find it much easier to be a prostitute than one who does not?”

Kathy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She didn’t want to answer, but she had to admit a woman like that would find it easier to be a prostitute.

“I’ll take your silence as agreement. Let me then postulate that if that description applies to you, which I think it does, then prostitution would be a reliable way to satisfy your physical desires.”

“Listen you shithead,” Kathy slapped the table with her hands, “I’m not like that. I don’t want to have sex with just anyone. I know your type, you think all women are sluts that will just do it with anyone. I don’t want to be a prostitute, get it? The men that use prostitutes are old and ugly, if they weren’t they wouldn’t need a whore. Why the hell would I want sex with them? Do you think every woman would fall for this bullshit? That we’re all stupid and sex-crazed enough to jump into bed with any man that waves a bit of money at us?”

Kathy was breathing heavily as she finished her tirade. She glared at David across the table that separated them, momentarily lost for words.

“I’ll take that as more arguments that you are putting forward. First off you seem to be working under a misapprehension. You appear to be assuming that I consider that the arguments I am putting forward would convince any woman to be a prostitute.”

“That’s what you’d like, isn’t you little fucker?” Kathy spat.

“Not at all. My aim in this is to convince you, and only you Kathy, to be a prostitute. I made, and make, no claim, as to the generality of the particular arguments I am putting. Only the power of the logical tools I am employing.” David paused, giving Kathy an enquiring look. “Perhaps I have not made myself sufficiently plain. I did not claim to be mounting an argument that would convince any woman to be a prostitute. This is entirely about you. Not all women are in your particular need of money and very few women are blessed with your looks. You do agree that a considerable amount of prostitution comes from a lack of money and an abundance of good looks.”

Kathy wanted to disagree. She wanted it so much. She wanted to say “no” over and over again until David went away. Something stopped her. She felt as if her mind was trapped in something dark and sluggish, like deep water drawing her down. She knew she had agreed to a logical argument. She had, hadn’t she? She’d agreed to listen to David’s logical argument. Didn’t that mean she had to be logical in return? Had she agreed to that? Kathy couldn’t remember. All she knew was that she couldn’t say no when the answer was yes. And she had to admit that good looking women in need of money could easily fall into prostitution.

“Yes, ok,” she said finally, “but that doesn’t mean anything about me.”

“Oh but it does. You are part of a group of women who are much more likely to take up prostitution than the general population. Therefore, statistically at least, you are more like to take up prostitution than an average member of society. Look at it objectively. If I described to you a young and pretty university student, seriously short of funds, who took up prostitution, you would find it understandable.”

Kathy fought to stop the images coming to her mind but she couldn’t. Yes, she could imagine some poor girl, desperate to complete her studies. It might be hard, but if her choice was either selling herself for a few years or resigning herself to no qualifications and a life time of poor work, well, Kathy had to admit she could understand. It wasn’t nice, it wasn’t fair, but then the world wasn’t always nice or fair. But that didn’t mean she was that girl. She didn’t want to imagine herself doing that. Letting strange men have access to her body. Letting them touch her however they wanted. Wherever they wanted. She tried to put a face, any face but hers, on the image of the girl in her head. The prostitute. The girl that was letting men do what they want. Feel up her breasts. Strip her clothes from her. The girl that was lying back and accepting into her pussy any man with enough money. The harder she tried to not imagine herself as that girl the harder it became not to. The images pressed on her, she could almost feel them like a great weight on her chest, like the force on your lungs after too long under water. Tinges of fear crossed Kathy’s mind as she told herself that imagining yourself doing something didn’t mean you’d do it. Or that you even wanted to. She crushed the thought that imagining doing something might mean you did want to do it.

Kathy realised that neither of them had spoken for some time. David was looking at her intently. She couldn’t avoid the image of his eyes as great pools of dark water.

Katy tried to shake off the wild thought that those eyes could reach out and drown her as he continued. “As to your point about not letting just any man into your bed I admit that is a potentially strong argument. And one I must deal with if I am to make my case.” You bet, you bastard, you bet, thought Kathy. “Given its strength I would ask for a moment to consider my response. Could you instead put up another objection, assuming you have one, and I will return to your point after that?”

“Of course I’ve got others.” Kathy could feel the images that had beset her mind retreating like a tide going out. You want some time? Then have it, she thought. If David was avoiding the fact that she wouldn’t just jump into bed with anyone then it must be an idea he didn’t want to face. That it worried David was like a rock for Kathy to mentally cling to. All she needed was one argument he couldn’t defeat. With that thought she let herself relax. She knew she didn’t have many good arguments left, so she wanted to be careful about which one she used next.

“Being a prostitute would ruin any chance of a relationship with someone. Why would any man want to be with me, even marry me, if I’d done that?” Kathy might not have a boyfriend now, but she knew she wanted a husband and a family eventually. Prostitution would wreck that.

“Oh Kathy,” David sounded, well, he sounded disappointed. Kathy shivered, uncomfortable. She shook herself. She couldn’t understand why his disappointment would affect her like that. “That’s not much different to an earlier argument of yours. Though, I admit, it has a different possible answer.” Kathy was confused, which earlier argument?

David gave no sign of recognising her discomfort. “Just as with your friends or a future career, simply keeping it hidden would be an option.”

“I know I know,” he added, raising a hand to cut her off, “you’re probably about to say you shouldn’t lie or keep secrets from someone you are in a relationship with.” Kathy was angry at herself again, why did she keep letting him silence her?

“I agree, that probably wouldn’t be the best. But if someone truly loved you they should accept you regardless of what you’ve done in the past. And before you raise any other objections I did not say I would convince you to be a prostitute forever. If you choose to cease at some time in the future my point will still have been made. It would, of course, be up to you.”

You bet it would be, you shit, thought Kathy. I could stop whenever I want. No, what, she quailed, that would only matter if I was a prostitute. And I’m not going to do that? Am I? Kathy felt the fear rising again. She wanted to creep away, find some hole to hide in. Much as she thought David’s arguments were sexist rubbish she had to admit they were having some sort of effect on her. The remaining edges of arousal from his earlier blunt descriptions of sex were mingling with the images of prostitution that she couldn’t banish from her mind. She didn’t like it but she couldn’t stop it. Desperately, like a drowning woman clutching a stray piece of flotsam, she clung on to her resolution that she wouldn’t give in.

“In fairness I think we should return to the point you made earlier.” Again Kathy had to drag herself away from her thoughts to catch up with what David was saying.

“But before that I’d like to summarise where we are, just to ensure we are both in agreement about the current state of the discussion.”

“Ok,” agreed Kathy, not bothering to try to hide the suspicion in her voice.

“We’ve established that you are considering whether to take up prostitution to help support your university studies.”

“No, no,” Kathy protested, “that’s not right. You’re trying to convince me, it’s not the same.”

“Kathy, Kathy,” again she could hear disappointment in David’s voice, “haven’t we already been over this? If you are listening to my arguments with any sort of open mind then you must be considering them. And you wouldn’t describe yourself as having a closed mind? You would describe yourself as sensible woman, willing to listen to reasonable argument. Can you honestly claim that anything I have said is unreasonable?”

She wanted to. Oh how Kathy wanted to object. She wanted to find one thing David had said that she could honestly label as unreasonable. But it was so hard, she felt as if something was swallowing her up, like water, cold, drowning her. Part of her insisted there must be something. But she didn’t want to be unreasonable, didn’t want to look as if she had a closed mind, an unthinking mind. Something deep inside urged her to live up to David’s description of her as a sensible woman. And that meant she should listen to reasonable arguments and consider them honestly.

“Use whatever words you like to describe the situation, but the reality is the same. Now, do we agree you are considering whether to become a prostitute?”

Kathy held her breath. She didn’t want to let it out. If she held her breath that meant she wouldn’t speak. She knew if she spoke she’d have to agree to what David just said. She knew she’d accepted that argument a while ago but now he was forcing her to actively agree. It was like there was a line in front of her. One she’d edged up to but hadn’t crossed yet. She didn’t know what waited on the other side, but it was something dark and deep.

The pain in her chest became sharper. She didn’t know how long she’d been holding her breath. She had to breathe. “Ok, ok, because we’re having this discussion it means I’m considering it.”

“It?” Kathy didn’t have to look to know David’s eyebrows were raised. Instead she looked down, at her hands that were fidgeting in her lap.

“It, it,” she snapped, “I’m considering whether to be a prostitute, all right?” Kathy made herself look at David, forced a defiant expression on to her face. A line in her imagination receded and didn’t seem to matter as much anymore.

“Yes,” said David, gently, “and we’ve agreed that the money would be useful, the hours would allow more time for your study and that it would provide a reliable source of sex.”

I don’t care, thought Kathy, I don’t care. It might be tempting, the money would be good, but I don’t want sex that way.

“You’ve raised objections about health and safety and the possible effects on your future life and career.” Kathy was only half listening. Try as she might she couldn’t get images of sex out of her head. She couldn’t shake off the image of a man fucking her. She wasn’t sure if it was one man or many. Again she could feel her arousal rising. She started to worry if she was soaking her panties. Her hands gripped tightly together as she tried to get control of herself.

“But those are easily dealt with by discretion and careful choice of workplace.” Well that’s ok, thought Kathy. If I do lose it won’t be so bad then. No, she told herself urgently, that’s not right. I don’t want to lose. I don’t. There’s still an argument he can’t beat. Please god, tell me he can’t.

“You said it was degrading, but I would contend that it’s only a quantitative, not qualitative, difference to what you experience in your current job.” David paused, then added, “which to me means you either don’t consider such things degrading, or you don’t mind feeling that way.”

What? No, No, that wasn’t right. Kathy was sure she didn’t want to feel degraded. She was a strong confident woman. But David had only given her two choices. So it must be the other one. So maybe prostitution wasn’t degrading, at least if you worked in a decent place. No worse than working in a coffee shop. And Kathy knew there was nothing wrong with that, that was what she did now. So that was ok, wasn’t it?

“Well,” she said at last, “no more degrading than being oogled at work.” Kathy felt there was something wrong with that statement, but she couldn’t work out what. She dismissed the thought. David had made his point logically, so there couldn’t be anything wrong.

“You’re an intelligent young woman.” Kathy smiled at the compliment. She shifted in the chair to give David a better look at her figure. “I’m glad we can have a sensible discussion like this.” Kathy caught herself, wondered why she had just posed like that. Let this fucker get a good look at what he’ll never get, she thought.

“So let’s return to the one outstanding point, before we see if you have any others.” Ah hah, Kathy thought, let’s get this over with. No way was David going to be able to beat her. She was no whore and he wasn’t going to be able to make her into one. Lots of sex might sound fun, but no way, not with just anybody, no way. Impatiently she flicked a strand of hair out of her face. She crossed her legs, deliberately striking a seductive pose. Wait? What? Why had she done that? Kathy pushed the annoying thought away. As David had been nice to her, describing her as a sensible, intelligent, young woman, there was nothing wrong in being nice to him, it was only polite.

“Now Kathy.” David looked at her intently. “I think you haven’t been entirely honest with yourself.”

“Wh-what?”

“How many sexual partners have you had?”

Kathy paused for a moment. She wasn’t going to give David any chance to claim victory by being less than honest with him. “Six.”

“And how many boyfriends?”

“Two. But, hang on, just because I slept with a couple of people when I wasn’t in a relationship, that doesn’t make me a whore.” Kathy hadn’t just given herself to anyone. Sure, there’d been some one-night stands, but so what? Lots of people did. “It’s not like I just lay down for anyone, I was choosy.”

“That might be what you tell yourself Kathy, but honestly, is it the truth?”

Kathy shook her head. She was sure she was being honest.

“There was no emotional commitment there, so it was just about the sex, right?”

“Y-yeah” Kathy stammered, “but just because I wanted sex with them doesn’t mean I want sex with anyone.”

“Really? That’s not my hypothesis. Let’s test it out. You enjoyed the sex with them, didn’t you?”

How dare the shit say that? But why couldn’t she argue back?

“Didn’t you?”

“Yes” Kathy managed, defiantly, “so?”

“You liked having sex with them, just sex.”

Nervously, Kathy shifted in her seat.

“You liked the pure act of sex.”

She could feel her defiance flowing away.

“You didn’t know any of them and you enjoyed the sex.”

Kathy wanted to protest. None of those one night stands had been with old men. They were all young, attractive. What was wrong with that? Why couldn’t she argue back?

“They were strangers and you enjoyed it.” Much as Kathy wanted to she couldn’t deny what David was saying was true. But the implication was all wrong. He was making it out to be far more than it was.

“You’re a girl who likes sex and you like sex with strangers. You can’t deny that, you’ve admitted both already.” Well, she had, Kathy acknowledged to herself, but again she was sure that David was twisting the truth, using what she had said to mean things that weren’t true. And, and, hang on. She hadn’t actually said that she agreed with what he was saying. Had she? She’d just let him say it. She hadn’t replied. But didn’t that mean she agreed? Did it? This was a logical argument and if she let a point go uncontested didn’t that mean that she accepted it? Was that the sort of girl she was then? A girl who liked sex with strangers? She could feel her grip on the argument she was depending upon, her mental rock, slipping away.

“In fact, I’d make a further hypothesis; sex with strangers is a turn-on for you.”

“What?” Kathy finally found her voice, but the words came out so weak, where she had wanted to yell. “No, no it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it Kathy? Be honest with yourself. If I’m wrong, please correct me and I’ll try a different argument.” She wasn’t like that, was she? She wanted to tell David he was wrong. Sex with strangers, yes, ok, she’d done it. But that wasn’t the attraction, was it? She imagined sex with someone she didn’t know, and, and, oh god she could feel herself getting aroused again. She could feel herself getting wet. No that wasn’t right. That wasn’t her. She wasn’t like that. She’d never felt like that before. But then why did the idea feel so good?

“So if I’m correct then the idea of sex with strangers, far from being an impediment, is an attraction. Please let me know if I am wrong, as this is based on your personal characteristics, but I do ask you to be honest.”

Kathy felt that she was drowning. The rock had gone and she’s slipped into the waves. The person David was describing couldn’t be her, could it? She fought back tears. Tears weren’t any part of a sensible discussion. One trickled down her left cheek but she angrily wiped it away. He’d asked for honesty. Ok, ok. She’d be honest with herself. Was sex with strangers a turn-on for her? She’d never thought so before. But was it? Well, yeah, maybe it just was. Maybe the idea of getting fucked by someone she didn’t know, maybe that did sound good. Maybe she did like that. She stopped trying to fight the arousal. Yeah, the idea appealed to her. There was no point denying the truth. That wasn’t logical. Sex with strangers turned her on. There, simple truth. Still didn’t make her a whore. Didn’t mean she’d jump into bed with anyone just because they asked. There had to be a reason. That the man was attractive. That was a reason. Sex with an attractive man she didn’t know? Oh yeah, that idea was hot.

“Of course,” said David, breaking her train of thought, “You wouldn’t want to jump into bed with just any man you didn’t know. That’s the sort of thing sluts do, and we both agree you’re no slut, correct Kathy?”

“Of course I’m not,” Kathy’s reply was dismissive. As if she’d ever be a slut.

“But that means there must be a reason for having sex with a particular stranger. Such as his looks.”

Dead right, thought Kathy, you don’t get me just by asking.

“So you will happily, I might even say eagerly, have sex with a strange man if the reasons are right. With the right reasons sex with a stranger turns you on. But if one reason is good enough, then logically there may be others that would suffice, such as money. One reason may be as good as another. Does that idea turn you on?”

Kathy could feel herself going pale. Again she couldn’t find the words to argue against what David was saying. That couldn’t be right, could it? One reason wasn’t the same as another. Desperately Kathy tried to stop the thoughts, the images, rising within her. Men paying her for sex, men she didn’t know. She could feel the money, feel her body reacting. Oh god she was getting hotter. She could feel the arousal building, her pussy getting wetter at the idea. She cringed, trying to deny what her body was saying to her. Help, oh god, help, she thought. She wanted to deny what her mind, her body, were telling her, that the idea of being paid for sex turned her on. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t like that, that she wasn’t that sort of girl. But the thoughts kept pounding at her, like waves against a falling cliff. But, but, she thought, just because you want to do something doesn’t mean you should. You shouldn’t always just do what you want. Like steal just because you wanted something, or hit someone because they annoyed you, or p, p, prostitute yourself because the idea felt so, so good. Oh it felt so hot. Kathy still wanted to win, no matter how attractive the alternative felt. There must be other reasons she could use, there must be. Even if you wanted to do something, she reminded herself, sometimes you still shouldn’t do it.

“It’s, it’s wrong” she stammered.

“By what definition Kathy?” David cut in before she could say anything more. “Prostitution is legal in many jurisdictions. Yes, certain conditions apply, but you can say the same about many businesses. Morally? I’ve certainly heard condemnation of women being forced into prostitution, but that’s a question of force, and while I think we can agree that forcing someone to something against their will is morally wrong, that’s completely separate from someone choosing to do something of their own free will. Do you morally condemn women who freely become prostitutes?”

Kathy swallowed nervously. Would she hold it against a woman who simply choose to do it? That would be her own choice and none of Kathy’s business. She wanted to believe she wasn’t the sort of person to condemn others for no reason. She supported gay rights, she’d agreed when she’d heard the slogans about getting what people do in their bedrooms is their business. So if someone wanted to be paid for sex, what objections could she have? She shook her head.

“So, do you have any more objections?” asked David, a touch impatiently.

“I, I don’t know, there, there must be something, I.” The drowning feeling returned as Kathy fought for something to say. Surely there had to be something else. There must be, or David would win. Kathy was sure she didn’t want David to win. Well, she thought she was sure, wasn’t she? It was important she won, or at least she thought she’d thought it was important. Because if David won then she’d have to agree to, to be a prostitute. And she didn’t want that. But Kathy was struggling now to remember why she didn’t.

“Perhaps it would help,” offered David, “if I thought of some reasons for you, and then countered them as well.”

“Please.” whispered Kathy. She wasn’t sure whether she was asking him to continue the argument or end it.

“You might contend that there is no future in such a profession. But we are discussing this in the context of supporting your studies. Having other work options and being sensible with the money you earn would take care of that. You are sensible with money, aren’t you Kathy?”

Sure, sure, she was sensible with money. Being a struggling student had taught her that. Kathy was confident that suddenly having a lot more wouldn’t go to her head. She was certain she’d manage it well, save most of it. But that didn’t matter, did it, unless, unless she was going to? She wouldn’t have that money if she wasn’t a whore. So why did the plans about saving feel serious, something she was going to do? Kathy was tired, exhausted as if she had run for hours. Or swimming. Her thoughts seemed to be pushing through water. Wouldn’t it just be easier to agree with David? There had to be another reason. Kathy wasn’t even sure why she was arguing anymore, but some part of her seemed to think it was still important. Some part was yelling at her not to give up. A small part of her mind made her speak.

“I, I don’t want to be an addict. Pimps get you hooked, and beat you up and…” Kathy’s voice trailed away.

“Kathy, Kathy. Don’t be fooled by sensationalist media. Certainly many, perhaps most, prostitutes are forced to work under such objectionable conditions. But haven’t we already agreed that you’d be much more suited to being a high-class escort?” What, thought Kathy through the fog in her mind, had they agreed that? David had mentioned it, but she didn’t remember agreeing. But David was logical, he wouldn’t say something that wasn’t true. So they must have agreed it. “Such establishments don’t want to damage their workers. Not good for their business. So really, you’re just recycling an old argument.” The room feel silent as Kathy’s thoughts tumbled over each other.

“If that’s the best you can do then I think the time has come to decide the outcome of this. So allow me to summarise. You are considering whether to be a prostitute, correct?”

Kathy felt numb, as if cold water was killing all sensation in her body, but that was an easy question, they’d been over that a couple of time, slowly she nodded her head.

“The money would be very useful in supporting your studies, correct?”

“Yes, yes it would.” Kathy could feel the cold, the drowning sensation slowly receding. David’s arguments were like an arm reaching down to help her out of the black water she’d been flailing in.

“You like sex with strangers. In fact, the idea of getting paid for sex with strangers turns you on.”

“M,maybe, but that, that doesn’t mean I want to, to.” So much of what David was saying made sense. Images of money, of sex for money flooded thought Kathy’s mind. She wanted to deny it. She could feel the physical tension created by the conflict in her mind. The idea, the images of being paid for sex, were so hot, she could feel her arousal building at the thought. Her denials struggled and crumbled under the pressure of the heat in her body.

Ignoring her obvious distress David continued. “You offered up a number of counter arguments, such as health and safety, effects on your future career and relationships, etc. However, I think you will have to agree that I easily dismissed them.”

Kathy had to admit David had had no trouble countering her arguments. She thought it should have been harder for him, that she should have made it harder, but she couldn’t deny the truth of what he said.

“So if the advantages are so clear, and the disadvantages so irrelevant, can you give me one reason why you aren’t a prostitute?”

Kathy felt lost. She was rocking back and forth in her chair, her arms now wrapped tightly around herself. She could feel a pressure in her head, like a dam about to break.

“I, I, I don’t want to, don’t want to be a p, p, prostitute,” she stammered.

“Really Kathy, is the best you can do simply repeat arguments?” There was hint of condescension in David’s voice. “I’d expect better of someone as intelligent as you. For a girl that likes sex as much as you, gets tuned on by sex with strangers, gets turned on by sex for money, has such an obvious need for money, I would think the conclusion was obvious.”

As David spoke the images kept pouring into Kathy’s mind. Sex. Sex with so many man. Getting paid for sex. She couldn’t deny the attraction. Couldn’t deny the rising heat in her body, the need in her pussy. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“This discussion is over. I think I need to decide the outcome, don’t you?”

Yes, please, oh please, god, please, just tell me. Kathy felt lost, adrift on her thoughts, she needed something to cling to, something solid. David sounded so certain. He was offering her something solid amongst her confusion.

“You’re feeling a little confused at the moment, uncertain. Anyone could understand that, it’s a big decision to make. But I think you will agree, now that we have looked at the question, logically, there is only one sensible choice. You’ll feel much better once you make it. Kathy, Kathy, look at me.”

She’d been staring at the floor, still desperately fighting the oh so hot images in her head. Slowly she raised her head so her eyes met his.

“Admit it, you want to be a prostitute.” David’s voice was gentle now, the pools of his eyes offering safety.

“I,I,” Kathy hesitated.

“Please Kathy, you’ll feel better once you do.” Would she, would the fear, the uncertainty, go away? David would know, David was sensible, she could trust David.

“I,I want to be, a ,a,” her voice failed.

“Come on Kathy, it’s time.”

A wall broke in her head, thoughts flowed through her. She was sure. She knew what she wanted. Her mind cleared, she could focus again. Only a few tattered questions remained. Why had she made herself suffer through that, when the answer had been so obvious, so logical?

“I want to be a prostitute.”

“Good, Kathy, very good. But there is a difference between wanting and being isn’t there?”

“Well, I suppose.” What did David want now? Kathy knew she had a lot to do. She’d have to quit her job at the coffee shop. Bye, bye to that stupid little place with the pitiful income it gave her. Her life would need some reorganisation, but she’d have so much more time to study. She was looking forward to that. And the hot, hot idea of sex that she was paid to have.

David reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his wallet. He extracted two large denomination bills. “Want these?”

Oh god, now she got it. I’m not a prostitute, thought Kathy, not yet. David was offering her money. Money for sex. Kathy moaned. Getting paid for sex. Right now. Oh that was so hot. I’m not a prostitute yet, she thought, but I could be, in a few minutes I could be. The study room, she remembered, had no windows, and it was sound-proofed. They could do whatever they want and no-one would know.

She focussed on the money in David’s hand. Her eyes narrowed. “Hang on. Ok, you’ve got a decent sum there, but that’s not the sort of money you were talking about me earning. I don’t care what you think I am, but I’m not cheap.” Kathy turned her head away dismissively.

“I admit,” said David, “that this isn’t as much as you will be able to earn. But do you know how to get a job with a high-class escort agency?”

Oh shit, no, I don’t, admitted Kathy to herself. She tried not to let her uncertainty show.

“So I offer payment part in cash, part in kind. I’ll help you find a suitable establishment.”

“Ok, ok it’s deal.” She trusted David.

“Then come over here.”

Kathy slowly rose form her seat. Part hesitantly, part seductively. I’m not a prostitute yet, I’m not a prostitute yet. The words kept repeating in her mind. Carefully she placed one foot in front the other as she made her way to David’s side of the table. I’m not a prostitute yet, she kept saying to herself as she sat on his lap, kissing him, one of his hands playing with her nipples.

I’m not a prostitute yet, she said to herself as he put his hand up her skirt, as she lifted herself up to let him slide her panties down her legs, as he took them off and dropped them by the side of the table.

I’m not a prostitute yet, Kathy said to herself as David made her stand up and then bent her face down over the table. I’m not a prostitute yet, she said to herself as she felt him pull her skirt up her thighs and bunch it around her waist. She could feel how wet she was as she lay there, hearing him undo his belt, step out of his trousers. There was a slight ripping noise, and she looked back over her shoulder to see him opening a packet and putting a condom on himself. I’m not a prostitute yet, she said to herself, as she felt the tip of his cock at the entrance of her pussy.

He rubbed himself over them, teasing. “When we’re finished here.” Kathy moaned as she felt his cock play over her pussy lips. “we’ll finish that project. In a logical fashion. Then we’ll find a good agency for you.”

Sure, sure, whatever, thought Kathy. Just do it, please, please do me. She tried to speak but the words came out as more moans. I’m not a prostitute yet.

“But first.”

The orgasm ripped through Kathy almost as soon as David thrust his cock into her. Waves of it kept rolling over her. She wasn’t sure how long it was until she could focus again. As she felt the long strokes of his cock ploughing in and out of her pussy, her first coherent thought was, now, now I’m a prostitute. I’m having sex, she thought, and I’ve been paid for it, logically, what else could I be?