She turned her head to see him standing there looking down at her, his coat now off and his ……. MY GOD he wore a priest’s dog collar. She thrust...down with her arms, lifting herself to get off the bed, but he was too quick. He pushed her flat, his strong hands on her shoulders, holding her down. He climbed on top and lay over the length of her. “No, no, no … you’re a priest, stop, please stop, you said you wouldn’t. Don’t oh please don’t” she begged. His calm, educated deep voice spoke. There would be little cards stuck up in phone boxes all over central London that I would ring but then chicken out of going to. Then, one night, I lost my hooker cherry.Drinking with friends in Soho all night had left me drunk and, coincidentally, alone after we all went our separate ways. I walked towards Picadilly to get the night bus and wandered past the famous Soho 'model' doorways. I paused and thought about it. Fuck it. I headed into the brightly lit corridor and to the rickety staircase. More

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