The first time I ever had sex with someone was for money.  I’m not ashamed to admit it or that I did it.  And if I had to do it all over again, well

I would probably ask for more money.  I'm cheap but proud.

Okay, not proud. 

It was a cold December day. I was standing there, in a small room, barely big enough for a bed, a small dresser and a little chair that could barely stand on its four legs. I was nervous. What if nobody came into my little room, they would just walk by, maybe look in and shake their head and move on to some other’s room.

As I was ready to give up, I heard someone whisper, “How much?”

I looked around but there was no one there, either in the room or standing by the door.

“Who’s there?” I called out, searching the area for signs of life.

There was none.

“How much baby?”  The voice again whispered out, this time I realized the voice was coming from inside my head, someplace deep inside. 

“35 dollars!” I decided to play the game and replied to the imaginary John inside my head. It could have been a Mary though, the voice was whispering so low, I could not tell.

“I’ll take it! Now strip down and lie on the bed…”the voice said, trailing off. 

I removed what little clothes I had on, exposing myself to the invisible body in the room and laid down onto the bed, the rough material of what little blankets there were pierced into my flesh, making me want to itch and scratch.

 "Now cluck like a chicken," I heard the voice command.  I raised my eyebrows but did as I was told.  There was silence, just a low moan coming from outside of my head, filling the room.  A group of Japanese business men stood outside my little room, watching in awe as I kept clucking like a chicken. I eyed a few rubbing themselves through the material of their pants. 

"Roll over on your belly and take your balls in your hand and repeat what I say, no matter what." The voice said, breathlessly as I rolled over on my body and clasp my testicles in my hands. The room was silent except for the deep breaths coming from my lungs.  I could hear the group outside my room talking to themselves, low, and in a language I couldn't understand.   

I felt the air in the room rolling over me, feeling the cold breeze against my ass cheeks.  The voice didn't say anything for a long time, a minute passed. I thought maybe the phantom John had left me, maybe moved on like the Japanese business men had with little to no action. 

"Call yourself Mary.  Squeeze your testicles hard while you say it, each time, do it for five squeezes." The voice finally said.

I did as I was told, each squeeze bringing tears to my eyes. "That's it, Mary, you're a bad little whore!" I heard the voice almost hardly able to speak.

Then nothing, I felt another breeze sweep through the room and against my skin, and then again, then a sharp slap against my ass, again, and again, over and over.  

"You need to be spanked!" I heard the voice growl as each slap hit my ass, turning it a deep red. 

 I cried in fake tears, "Stop! I'll be good..." and then nothing.

I felt another whisp, some more voices coming from outside the room, some nuns from Germany were standing outside, almost naked, except for their habits, each one saying something in German, a few seductively moving a holy cross up and down their bodies. 

I felt a pressure up on top of me, a body, if the word could be said for the phantom. I felt something rubbing against my body. I knew what would come next. He told me to call him God. 

My first sexual experience was as a male prostitute for the King of Kings.

Or maybe just some ghost who had a God complex.  There would be others, hundreds more, some male, some female, some that were both. 

All dead. 

Except in the libido. 

I'm a male prostitute for the after world. And these are my stories.