BROKEN_WINGS by: Akirah Mizuki
This piece of fiction will not be copied or distributed illegally without my permission. Violation of this rule will result to serious and prolong hiatus.
A/N: English is not my first language.
"If you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best."
― Marilyn Monroe
Chapter 1: Prologue
In a quiet dark room, a woman casually sat on a black-cushioned sofa. The illumination that came from the moon provided enough light for the woman to see, as well as it created a sharp glint on a glass of champagne that was in her right hand. She was patiently waiting.
The prey, destined to arrive at midnight was nowhere in sight. She looked at her watch to confirm the time.
11:58 PM
The hired prostitute would be arriving soon: two more minutes. The woman took a sip from her champagne glass, droplets of wine cascaded down the side of her mouth.
Knock - Knock
The peacefulness of the quiet night was disturbed by a soft yet firm knock. She calmly turned her head towards the direction of the door, located at the right-wing of the spacious condominium. She opened her mouth and let the words slur, slightly tipsy.
"Open"
The door opened without a sound and a figure stepped in to the chilly room. He closed the door behind him when he was fully inside. The male figure stood in silence, waiting for his master's call.
The woman on the couch didn't stir at the very least. She stayed planted on her seat, eyes set on the moon outside her open window and not placed on the man situated at one corner of her living room.
Silence.
The woman didn't speak.
He didn't dare speak either, fearing he might displease his master for the night.
The woman on the couch, eyes still fixated on the vast universe outside her floor length window, calmly put down her empty glass on the ivory table. She stood up, regarded the figure half-shrouded in the dark with a curt nod before turning on a corner and disappearing inside a room at the end of a lengthy hall.
The man followed, his gaze darting at the side walls. He could see frames hanging on the left wall but could not decipher what they were. The whole condominium was shrouded in the dark but the illumination from the moon left barely enough for the trained eye to see. He continued walking until he was standing outside the woman's room. He gripped the handle and pushed the door open.
Again, it was dark, much like rest of the whole abode. Outside light streamed into the room, making the rose bed at the middle of it darker than usual.
Sickeningly red. Bloody stain of a tainted virgin being taken and subjugated for the first time. The thought made him shiver. He swallowed the bile that was stuck on his throat.
"Strip and lay down on the bed."
The woman spoke from one corner of the room. He could not see her from where he was standing in front of the bed but he heard her voice that came from behind him. He suppressed the goose bumps that attacked him. He gave a slight nod before taking-off his shirt, exposing the tanned backside from a whole summer of farm work.
He dropped the simple white v-neck and proceeded to unbutton his cheap dark jeans. He hooked both thumb and pointer finger at the sides of his lean hips, pushing his jeans and underwear at the same time.
He stood naked and exposed at the middle of the spacious room. Not knowing what to expect, he listened carefully at the sound of his breathing intermingling with the woman's.
Silence.
Always Silence.
The moment he entered her condominium, he noticed the emptiness and dullness of it. The living room lacked accessories; just a couch, a table, a flat screen TV with a complete home stereo, and a black piano at one corner. It was plain, monotonous, and uniform, but certainly looked expensive, much like her words. Probably that was the reason why she was giving him straightforward commands. No sugar-coated words, unlike the cougars who usually hire him.
A command; A leader; Dominant; that was what his current master's standing. The master has control.
"What are you waiting for? Move and lay down on the bed."
He inhaled sharply, her voice colder than the night air.
He moved to the bed slowly, his ears sensitive to the slightest sound. The bed was soft as he laid himself there. Stomach, chest and cock fully exposed. He looked ahead, curious of the woman's appearance for he never properly saw it.
The woman emerged from the dark; pale green eyes clashing with dark ones.
He concluded the woman didn't look too bad, certainly not the prettiest he'd ever seen though. Black wavy hair, white porcelain skin, and semblance of Asian and English features. The woman almost looked exotic.
Gaze fixated on her, he didn't make any sound. Feeling somewhat bold at the moment, he looked at her heatedly. Trying to seduce her using both his eyes and body, but it didn't work. She remained passive and standing across from him, calmly regarding his presence with arms crossed on her chest.
She looked professional and proper: knee-length black pencil skirt and a white blouse with collar. She looked older than him.
Time passed slowly between them. No one dared to move, to act, and to speak. They only stared at each other silently. Eventually, she stalked towards him, climbing on top.
He stayed still, frozen under the woman. He could not think, or even form a thought. Her scent invaded his nostrils and messed-up his stream of understanding and reason. He could not do what he usually did during sex when his customers took initiative: he could not think.
The woman planted kisses on his left neck and ear. Hand twitching at his sides, he didn't pull her closer, nor push her away. He stayed submissive under her for the sake of money. He let her do him.
"Raise both your hands." The woman whispered in his ear.
At first he hesitated, anxious and doubtful of the situation but he suddenly remembered what his co-prostitute had said.
"Do whatever they say. Follow whatever they do. Lick their shiny boots, if necessary, because at the end of the day, the cash will still flow for you."
True. She would pay him and he'll disappear –unless she requested for him again, however, the percentage of that idea happening equals to his minuscule income, which was barely enough to support him and his only family. He raised both hands slowly, crossing them when the stretch wouldn't go any further.
Without taking her head away from his neck, the woman let her right hand caressed his side until it was used to press down his wrists.
It was almost laughable. What was she trying to really prove, or do? To control? To dominate? By pressing his wrists with a lone hand, her right can't even encircle one of his wrists let alone two of it. His musings, though were cut short by his sharp intake of breath.
The woman pressed her body to him fully. Her left hand, which was used to brace herself and put some distance between their bodies joined with the right for its objective.
He was distracted. Not only by the body pressing lightly to him but also by the heat. The woman was impossibly warm and its making him sweat and hard. He could almost feel her breasts, smell her hair and taste her skin. It was heaven until he notice the tightness on his wrists. He was tied.
"What the hell!?" His first words for the night. He looked at the woman confusedly, surprise and panic evident on his face.
The woman looked at him through dark lashes and pale eyes. Both of her hands were now situated just above his shoulder, supporting her upper body so she could take a look at him. Her position was both awkward and dominating. She gave him a disturbing smile before dragging her right hand south and took a hold of his half-erect manhood.
She whispered, "sorry, I don't give blow jobs just... hand,"and she started stroking him slowly.
Fuck. Her mocking was insulting, but her hand felt amazing. Soft, warm, and powerful. Powerful, not in a manly sort of way but in a way that strongly grip his cock, applying enough pressure that felt good. She must have been a member of a fitness club, no doubt about it.
The hand stroking his nether region increased its speed. He gave a guttural groan. The woman on top of him must have been pleased with his reaction for she squeezed his cock tighter, earning another one of his deep strangled groans.
He opened his closed eyes. He didn't remember the time when he closed them, but it was shut the entire time. He looked up towards her, meeting two pale abysses. She had an inquisitive look on her face, as if amused and curious at the same time. Her stare was intense. He looked away, closing his eyes once more. He was almost there. The pleasurable peak.
He started thrusting his hips to the stroking hand, wanting more friction and pressure. He shoved violently, the tip of his cock hitting the base of her clothed stomach. He didn't care. He didn't care anymore that he was the one being pleasured and not the other way around. It felt good. It felt that good. Being tied and violated by a woman like this, he never thought that it could be this satisfying. He never thought he'd come.
After the waves of orgasm subsided, he felt the woman immediately get-off him. His hands twitched above his head, fighting the urge to hook his hands on her exposed neck, but never did so. He stayed frozen because of euphoria.
The woman walked towards the door, composed and unaffected by their early quiet revelry. He blushed uncharacteristically. Thankfully, it was not visible in the semi-dark room. At least he owed the Gods for that.
"Money's on the table to your left. You can take it and leave – a pause, she turned around and faced him again, showing a sadistic smile –after you unbind yourself, of course,"and with that, she closed the door, leaving him naked and tied on her bed.
The man decided he would not meet with her again, even if she requested for him once more.
Never again.
"When you meet someone for the first time, that's not the whole, its just the first page."
-Brody Armstrong
End of Chapter 1
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