A/N: This is an odd experiment of mine. You'll really have to tell me yay or nay on this, I HAVE NO IDEA AND I'M INSECURE!
Hem-Hem, pardon me.
Chapter One:
The Client.
It was just another day. Nothing strange about the physics of that day, the sun rose and it set, the moon and stars appeared and disappeared like normal. The clock ticked away intervals of sixty seconds, minutes and twenty four hours like it did every other day of the three hundred and sixty five days that year. So if everything was geographically and physically unchanged, why did it seem so...unique compared to the other, less remarkable days? There was one thing for sure, one thing I knew with absolute certainty and not one ounce of doubt. If the world had changed that day, whether in geography, physics or simply in my own mind, the cause of that change could only be him.
I was sitting by the window, not quite sure when my next client was going to show up, enjoying the time I was able to spend alone, free to think of whatever I pleased without any unsavory interruptions. My next client was sure to distract me from my thoughts, as whomever could manage to be this late for a scheduled appointment was sure to be a handful. My room was pretty simple, a neat bed was situated along the wall to the left of the door, while I sat on the chair near the window opposite it. It wasn't my room as in the room I lived in, but the room I worked in. I tended to wait here instead of the lounge with the other girls, preferring to be alone before meeting with my clients. The other girls often took my choice to be alone as haughtiness, I knew what they said about me behind my back. That I thought I was better than all of them, and that I didn't feel it necessary to fraternize with people lower than me. It didn't bother me, because I knew - and they did, even if they refused to admit it - that it was true. I was better than them. I was the best here at the brothel, the most popular, reserved for the VIP. It wasn't only truth behind the whispers behind my back, but also jealousy.
Jealousy was pathetic, I had long ago decided. I got the high end clients because I was skilled, it didn't matter what others said.
Speaking of high end clients, this one I was waiting for was supposed to be a major. My boss had gone over it with me beforehand, telling me that this one job was worth more than I was. That it would take a huge chunk out of my debt, that I was to show this man an hour he would never forget. I, of course, smirked, asking him if I had ever let him down before. I hadn't.
I sighed in the silence, wondering how much later this VIP was going to be, I wasn't very patient of a person.
The quiet was nice though, usually it was too noise if anything.
But alas, my sanctuary of silence and solitude was interrupted by voices outside my room.
"Please forgive my lack of punctuality, there were unresolved matters I had to attend to which were unavoidable,"
"Ah, do not fret, for the price your paying, there is no way I could hold it against you. I'm sure it will be well worth they wait, she is my finest, I assure you, Mr Soren."
"I have heard a thing or two from my men about her. The opinion seems to be unanimous, I believe 'indescribable' and 'breath taking' to be the most subtle of adjectives used in her case. But of course I will let you know my own personal opinion after I the experience needed to base my conclusion."
I knew who the second person to speak was, he was none other than the "caretaker" of this set-up, Howard. He preferred to be addressed with the subtle, gentle term, as opposed to the more fitting noun, Pimp. He was a slimy creature with an unfailing poker face, always gentlemanly and professional to others of his kin but when it didn't benefit him, the mask came off and you saw how ugly of a person he really was.
The man he was speaking to was a mystery to me, I knew him to be my next client but his voice was foreign. Smooth, charismatic and fluid would be my choice of descriptive words. He sounded all too comfortable and rehearsed, completely believable. I'd be lying to say i wasn't a tad bit apprehensive - not frightened or anxious, I refused point blank to feel those kinds of emotions any more unless justly warranted - to find out exactly what this man I was to entertain was like.
"Let's not keep you from her any longer, shall we? She's waiting in this room, Mr Soren."
With that cue, the door to my room opened and in walked - well, more like glided - the start of a new chapter of my life, and out walked whatever vision I had of normalcy in my less-than-normal life. He, the man my boss had referred to as Mr Soren, was nothing I had expected. He was tall, if I had to hazard a guess I would estimate about six feet at least, but the way he held himself made him seem taller still. His posse was full of authority and self assurance, it was borderline arrogant-looking. Gentle, rich waves of dark chocolate hair fell down to almost graze his broad shoulders, which, like the rest of his physique, were finely toned. His eyes were so dark, it was difficult to tell the true color of them. He had smooth, flawless ivory skin, his face was completely void of any facial hair, which may have contributed to misleading his age, so I refrained from trying to guess how old he was.
Very attractive, I concluded. Physically, that is, for despite his undeniably good looks-and I admit here that this man was truly stunning-he had something else to him, this Mr Soren. It was almost like an aura of power, of malice, of possession. Not like I hadn't encountered men such as that before, it's just that something seemed different when it came to this one. I couldn't tell what it was, but the power, the self confidence, it was almost crushingly genuine.
But it wasn't just the power that intrigued me, I realized, it was something else I felt when I saw him. It felt like...Nostalgia. Border lining on Deja Vu. Had I met this man before? It was unlikely, I was pretty sure I would have remembered him in the vast sea of clients I have had in my time here at the brothel. But still, I felt as if this had happened to me before, but I brushed the feeling aside, deciding I'd figure it out later when someone wasn't being paid for my time.
Speaking of paid time, I realized it had been at least one minute since this mysterious man entered my room, hence we had said no greetings nor touched each other. Only had we surveyed the other, it being the first thing I realized we had in common. His expression upon examining me was one of curiosity, and perhaps a dash of well concealed excitement. I slowly rose from my seat, never taking my eyes off Mr Soren, and his eyes followed my every movement, as I rose, as I walked slowly and seductively across the space separating us, my revealing midnight blue silk gown hugging my curves as I walked. When I was about two feet away from Mr Soren, I stopped, putting on a show of looking up and down his well toned body. He was garbed in a white dress shirt, grey jacket, black dress pants and shiny black loafers. All his attire seemed highest quality and screamed power. I smirked, letting my approval of him show.
"Mr Soren, is it?" I asked with fake innocence.
"Professionally, yes. But maybe if you impress me, I'll let you call me by my first name," his voice was soft and silky, but powerful at the same time. I cannot describe in words the smooth power and authority it held, I almost scoffed at it's pretentiousness. I did not let my ridicule show, however, I simply put on a mask of over-exaggerated pleading.
"What, might I ask, would I have to do to earn that honor, Mr Soren?" I raised my hand to gently graze his surprisingly soft lips with my fingertips, earning a tiny, almost unnoticeable shiver from the man in front of me.
"I have no doubt you will be able to think of something that will sway me, but you can start with your name," he said to me, taking his eyes off mine for the first time to carefully observe my own body, leaving not an inch unexplored by his curious eyes. I was a little surprised at his casual presence, his curiosity over idly things like my name. Most of my other clientswouldn't have the patience nor the will power to withstand very long before taking me, but this man, this man who so obviously was not immune to my charm, was standing there like he had all the time in the world to enjoy getting to know me. The man was intriguing, I gave him that, but he was just another client. Nothing more or less.
"I can have whatever name you want me to have," I said, slowly moving my fingertips from his lips downward, trailing his fine chin, running along his jawbone, down his neck, stopping at the collar of his expensive dress shirt.
"That's not going to work."
"Why is that?" I asked, now tugging gently at his collar, working my fingers tantalizingly slowly to undo the first button.
"Well, I'm afraid I'm embarrassingly unimaginative when it comes to names, and I would hate to disgrace you with an unworthy name," a small, coy smile spreading on his lips.
"Fine then, my name is Brie,"
I succeeded with the first button, he did nothing but stand there and smile a coy, knowing smile.
"That's not an eloquent name enough for you, think of another,"
I leaned forward, planting a soft kiss upon the flesh I exposed by undoing the button.
"How about Amber?"
He trailed his finger tips along my forearm, across my elbow, along my upper arm...
"No I don't think so, it's too innocent," he said.
I undid the next two buttons if his shirt, exposing my flesh for my manipulation. I was slow and torturous in running my tongue along the smooth, heated skin. I heard his breath hitch ever so slightly.
"Sophie?"
"Too dainty,"
"Sarah?"
"Too common,"
"Jessica?"
"Too girly,"
I looked up at Mr Soren, letting my exasperation show on my face.
"Why don't you just pick a name if your going to be so picky about the matter?" I instantly regretted my words, fearing that I had somehow offended the strange man - not because I had any reservations for his feelings, but because Howard, my boss, had aforementioned to me that this one job was worth more than I was to him, and that if I screwed it up, my head would be the one on the chopping block.
But much to my surprise- and relief- Mr Soren didn't seem offended in the slightest by my frustration. He leaned forward, at first I thought he was going to try and kiss me, but he bypassed my lips to brush his own against my ear, sending small shivers in my nerve endings along the side of my face. His voice was lowered to a whisper, as if it was a secret, never losing it's smooth, silky appeal as he spoke to me.
"I don't want a fake name for you...I want your real name."
I managed to maintain my iron hard composure, but I felt like scoffing at the incredulous request.
"Tough luck," I said instead, knowing he wouldn't like the answer but it didn't matter to me. Again, Mr Soren didn't seem phased by my bluntness, on the contrary, he seemed to find it rather amusing.
"Awe, don't be that way. I'll make you a deal, I'll tell you my name and you tell me yours."
"No," I stayed strong willed.
He...Pouted? His bottom lip extending a bit, his eyes filling with a puppy dog like pleading, the look was so ridiculous I almost laughed out loud.
"Fine, I guess you won't give in. I won't ask for your name, but you can know mine if you smile for me, now."
I was surprised at his resignation but I didn't show it, instead letting my lips curl upwards into a smile I knew would look genuine and dazzling even though it wasn't from my own emotions. He backed away from me to hungrily devour my smile with his eyes.
"My men were wrong about you, so very, very wrong."
I didn't waver in my expression but inside my pride was taking a tough ride. Hadn't his men said that I was breath taking? Indescribable? What had I done to displease this mysterious man? I trusted in my own abilities, I was deeply offended by his comment. But all I did was raise my eyebrows to show my confusion at his words.
He never explained himself, however, in words that is. The next thing I knew he was grabbing me around the waist, pulling me up to his level. I didn't allow myself a second of shock, wrapping my legs around his waist to better hold me up, and entwining my hands around his neck. This close to him I could see clearly his eyes were the color of dark brown. So dark, they almost looked black. I could feel his hand sliding-intentionally, of course- down my back along the slippery, silk material to rest on my ass while the other hand held me firmly at the waist. Strong, I thought. He leaned his head towards me - again I thought he was going to try and kiss me, and if he did he would have another surprise waiting for him - but he bypassed my lips and opted for my ear, again.
I could feel the wetness of his tongue as he ran it along the rim of my ear, sending shivers down my spine and making me gasp. I was seriously starting to wonder why in the fuck would this man get a hooker, he obviously didn't need to pay for pleasure, that was certain. I brought my fingers up to run them sensually through his dark locks, relishing in the unbelievable softness of the chocolate tufts when he spoke to me, his rich, silky voice sending more shivers down my spine. He spoke to me one word, and one word only. I would never forget this moment, the moment I learned of the name which would bring me such pain, confusion and sometimes solace in the years to come, the one name I knew that I would never forget.
"Caine."
I could hold my tongue no longer, my mouth opened and one word slipped out that I would never be able to take back. I had never said it to any of my clients before, holding firm to my resolve, never yielding. So what was it about this man that made me say it? What was it about him that broke down my carefully built defenses with a single word?
"...Diana."
I didn't have much time to dwell on my slip up, for the next second I was being thrown onto the freshly made bed, the beautiful silk sleeping gown torn from my body...
I decided right then and there, I would not let this man plague me with confusion. I was the one in control here. I would be the one to make him scream and call the name I so foolishly let slip to him. I would make him suffer in pleasure for breaking down my defenses like that. He meant nothing to me, after today I would likely never see Caine Soren again, and my curiosity was not about to make me lose my professionalism.
I grinned devilishly up at Caine, wondering how far I would have to go to make him beg, because I would. This man didn't look very submissive, but then again, I could be very persuasive, if I wanted to be. And I did, I really, really did.
This man was no match for me, I was the best at what I did, and I knew it.
One hour later...
I lay in the tangled sheets, to exhausted from the various activities that had kept me rather busy over the past hour to rise. Instead I opted to observe my client, Caine, as he redressed himself, readying to leave my room. His hour was up, and if there was one thing to say about that hour, it would be that Mr Soren did not waste paid time. Hence my exhaustion.
Caine. Powerful name, I thought, although my opinion might have been influenced just a tad bit by the powerful aura he seemed to carry around with him. Not to mention his own physical strength and stamina, which I was now very well acquainted with, which could also lead to some bias in my opinion.
Caine was strong, I thought. I knew my own stamina was well built over years in the business, and to have him drain my energy like that in just one hour...It was something remarkable.
I watched him pull his now slightly crinkled dress pants up his well defined slim legs, packed with muscle and not an ounce of spare body fat. My eyes traveled upwards, scanning across that chest, relishing at the sight of the flat expanse of smooth, slightly tanned skin covering his beautifully toned six pack. But it didn't stop there, for upwards still lay the long, perfect arms equally defined and toned as the rest of his body.
It made me wonder for what must have been the hundredth time in the past hour. What the hell was this guy doing with me, because there was no way this man would need help in the sexual needs department with his looks and his charm. Why was he paying for his sex? Or was I the exception, simply because he had heard great - not to mention true - things about me and was only curious to see for himself?
He pulled his arms through the sleeves in his shirt, practiced hands doing up the buttons with ease. He spared me one glance before he left me, in his eyes I could see the satisfaction I had brought to him, I gloated on the inside a bit for that. But on his face I could see a few other flitting emotions. Sadness, confusion? Longing? I didn't have time to decipher exactly what it was for a second later, he was gone out the door. Poof.
I wondered if he would come back for more, I knew he enjoyed himself after all. Maybe, and I would never admit this to anyone, but maybe I wanted, just a little bit, for him to come back, so I could see him again.
A/N: Howard's a pimp, Diana's his hoe, Caine's a mobster...Fucked up huh? Well, my minds fucked up, FYI.
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