I had just graduated high school, was 18 and thought I owned the world. I was going to college next fall, and was looking forward to freedom, being on my own.

I was slim, short, with a thick head of blonde hair. I was straight, though one of my long time friends had admitted to me just a week before that he was gay. It was weird thinking of all those times he had slept over. Had he wanted to have sex with me? Kind of got me hot, and kind of got me nervous.

My world caved in that evening though. I had been out hanging around and by the time I got home, my dad was home. He was early, which was strange, and both he and my mom were in the living room with a drink in their hands, again that was odd. They beckoned me in, and told me the news.

No college for me, my dad was going to lose his job next week. I was devastated, then pissed off. Damn, this did have to happen to me!

And when I woke up the next morning, I was still pissed off. I don't know what made me do it, but I decided I was going to give my dad's boss a piece of my mind. And so I took a bus downtown, and in forty minutes was waiting in the big, well-furnished waiting room outside my dad's bosses office. I was still seething, rehearsing what I was going to say.

"You can go in now." The young, hot secretary smiled at me. She had enough cleavage showing to be on the cover of a porno mag, and a pair of tits that would have made her a best seller. I smiled too, and went in.

I had never met Mr. Langston before. He was behind his desk. Dark hair, a cruelish face. He looked tough, and I suddenly lost my resolve.

He stood, and he was big, barrel chested. He was probably in his late forties, going to fat, but still powerful. He was wearing some sort of silk shirt, and for some reason I noted I could see his nipples poking out, quite a bit.

He came around to me. "So, you're Dirk's kid?" He held out his hand, but I ignored it. His face got even darker, "look kid, no reason to be discourteous, its business, understand?" And I launched into my spiel.

It all came tumbling out of me. He stood and took it, a good half a head taller than I was and a good seventy pounds heavier. Finally, I ran down. He was quiet, brooding, and I could tell a bit angrier than he had been.

"Well, have anything else to say?" I just stood there and shook my head.

"Good, I do. Our business is not doing great, we need to cut costs. Your dad is one of the costs we need to cut, understand?" I remained stubbornly silent. "And that is that." He looked at me a bit oddly then, and then laughed.

"Hell kid, you're pretty enough. If you really wanted to help your dad I bet you could sell your ass down on Broughton Street for $200 bucks a throw, three times a night, that's $600 bucks a night. More