Free Sadie Whyte: The Lust of my Life by HD HOTEP Page A

DC.  She hopped out of the car wearing faded jeans, shoe-boots, and a baseball cap with her hair tucked in a bun beneath it.  She wore an off brand jacket and she carried no purse or ID.
    Sadie entered the warehouse after she was buzzed in.  And within minutes, she was staring at hundreds of DVD’s in black cases.  Each case was numbered.
    “You’ve got it all, snuff, D.R., everything you need; all the good stuff.  The stuff that floats this country, believe it or not.   I’ve also included a list of existing clients who will shock the novice.  One of em was just on TV backin a favorite candidate,” Cricket said with a yellow toothed smirk.
    Sadie looked around, admiring the scenery.  “How can I be sure of what I’m getting?” she asked.
    Cricket’s smile grew wider. “We gotta portable DVD player set up for ya.  Take your pick.  Each number stands for a preference.  Ha Ha.  Enjoy.” 
    Taking note of the few others standing in the warehouse, she briefly glanced at several types of movies.  When it came to the kind of movie Cricket had told her she could get a life sentence for, Sadie’s heart banged in her chest. She cut it off, panting, her face growing flush.
    Cricket began to laugh. “A weak stomach, huh?”
    Sadie remembered her mother being beaten and killed after being raped.  She remembered being slapped across the room.  She remembered how large the gentleman had appeared to be through her six year old eyes.
    She remembered Byron Blount’s words from years ago. “…three hottest commodities in this county are…? ...drugs, mainstream religion, and pornography…”
    She also remembered the figures Cricket had quoted for her. “…100,000 of em at full price. You’ll be sittin on $20 million…You got ta pay to play baby…”
    Sadie pulled herself together.  “There’s something you didn’t mention,” she said.
    “Oh, we’ve got your master burner.  We’ve got ya.  I’ve been doing this for some time,” Cricket responded.”
    *****
    “…separate a mark from his money…”
    As Sadie headed back home after having set up the pick-up for her first shipment of “advanced” porn, she realized she’d found yet another way to separate “marks” from their money.  And the money making potential surpassed anything she’d done yet.
    When Sadie got home that night, ironically, Moe invaded her mind.  She gave him a call while lying in her king size canopy, four-poster bed.  She got no answer.  She called him again, changing her mind each time; she almost decided to leave him a message.
    Laying back with her arms wrapped around her oversized pillow with the frilled border, she reminisced about the times she and Moe had spent together.  She’d grown to hate when he disappeared for weeks.
    “People don’t care anymore.  People fall and hurt themselves and others laugh.  People see others getting hurt and they keep walking.  Like “better than me”.
    “I remember doing a little time for assault.  A guy was in an alley trying to rape this girl.  He was beating this poor girl.  I shot over there and ended up losing my mind whipping this guy’s tail.  The girl ran.  I got a little time.  But I’d do it again.  I CARE what happens to people.  Plus, I HATE women beaters.”
    “And would you believe that I CARE about you, Sadie,” he’d said, beginning to massage her shoulders.
    Sadie squeezed the pillow between her legs, smiling to herself.  Moe would not leave her mind on this night.  She also thought about her mother.  And for the first time in life, she actually questioned something she’d said.
    “…ain’t no good... men… the odds of you finding one is NONE…”
    *****
    “We are classy, professional, high maintenance and yet, down for whatever.  We do it all.  But Nushu’s Escorts, Inc. is not all about selling gorgeous bodies. Not at all. It’s about selling an experience.  It’s about gestures, hints, body language, and seduction in