“You’re Daddy’s tiny truck stop whore, sweetheart!” 

My father was so proud of me for landing my first job. After a few months of hanging out at the super station, watching the other working girls take on client after client. I soon realized that my dreams of becoming an astronaut were less interesting, as well as more difficult to reach. 

I grew up poor in the country. As sweet of a thought that is, the reality is I needed to try something more..grassroots entrepreneurship-based. My options were ultimately truck stop whore, counterfeit supplier, or drug dealer. Much sooner than with most young people my age, I was being faced with the reality of how hard it would be to climb out of poverty.  

So, becoming a truck stop whore just like mama and my auntie would be my future. No way around it at this point – I would have to join the family business. 

My Maw-Maw had a granny phone sex page which she ultimately would use to get live clients that were in person. She had worked so hard over the years and no longer had to be a truck stop whore. You’ve maybe even done a call with her before..she’s one of the most popular phone sex operators!

I called her up to get some advice on where to start. To my shock and surprise, Maw-maw recommended something I didn’t see coming. For my first day at work as a truck stop whore, she wanted me to start off losing my virginity

But Granny! You know I lost that years ago to Paw-Paw & Daddy…

She looked at me with a sly grin and explained that because of my age, I would be able to market myself as a virgin for a bit and that I absolutely should because it pays a lot more money per session. All these pervy creeps would be lining up and handing over fists of cash in hopes of popping a sweet tiny cherry for the first time. 

Grandma wasn’t done yet though! She went up into the attic and brought down a large vintage suitcase. It was robin’s egg blue with big silver buckles by the handle. “Now, my sweet truck store whore, you will receive some of our family’s most precious heirlooms.” 

Slowly she pulled vintage lingerie out, some of it as old as the turn of the last century that belonged to my Great-Great Grandma who had been a parlor girl in the wild west. Vintage vibrators, cockrings and chasity cages that were 50+ years old. Then she pulled out the most important piece in the entire collection. It was almost 11″ inches long and well over 4″ thick with a small brass plaque at the base. And the name it read was “Fredrick Douglas”! A real piece of BBC history right here in my very own hands. 

Maw-maw was beaming with pride as we unpacked the collection together. I tried on the outfits that had belonged to every truck stop whore in my bloodline. Suddenly I filled with such pride to carry on the tradition of sucking, fucking, manning glory holes, and selling my “virginity”. 

Want to hear more about what it’s been like since I started full-time as a truck stop whore? Call me – I have a story for any fetish or roleplay! 

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