She entered the place with the usual fizz of excitement in her stomach, glancing over her pearly manicure and smoothing strands of hair she knew were perfectly straight. She willed herself to keep her pouty smile intact as the insane rush of the job took over. She had this. He was so cute and friendly that she could almost bet that he'd cum within minutes, leaving her free to wander around this expensive-looking place for a while. Lots of sharp corners though; better be careful.
The four masked guards flanking her turned. The only lights in the spacious corridors at this late hour burned deep-red, low to the ground. They illuminated the gleaming arsenal strapped to the huge men surrounding her and the kid. Maybe this was a more popular band than she thought. Judging by the crowd of tangled sweaty bodies around the car at the gates, she supposed she was right. The fans were rowdy after an exclusive show, and they had no qualms about screaming it alongside that ear-splitting noise that was supposed to be music. She wasn't the biggest fan of death metal, but she knew how to handle rich men. She knew exactly what they wanted, oftentimes before they wanted it. She had this, no doubt about it.
Her highest Jimmy Choos were pinching her feet with their tiny black straps. as they walked down a long, cold hallway. Lost in her own thoughts, she bumped into the kid when he stopped. This must be his room. "Well, this ams it," he gestured to a regular enough bed with cartoon character sheets and drawings crumpled up next to it. She almost laughed and turn on her heel then and there, but swallowed her smirk and decided to let it be. He was quite drunk, and she was almost sure that she could get away with exploring a bit more of this weird mansion.
He poured three more shots of straight vodka from a tray offered by a hooded man that appeared from nowhere. He also had, inexplicably, a glass bowl of chocolate chips. The young man grabbed a handful and chewed noisily, getting his face disgustingly messy. She sighed inwardly.
Just get on with it so I can check out that hot tub in the main room, kid! Although, she mused, as he wiped his face hurriedly, blushing, he wasn't bad-looking. Just awkward, and childish. He cleared his throat and pushed sheaves of hair behind his shoulders.
"So uh, hows did you likes de show tonight?" he tried awkwardly. Like most men, he didn't seem to know where to look when a beautiful woman was watching him like prey. How cute. He thought she was a groupie. He must fuck a lot of them. She didn't know if the kid himself had hired her, his guards, or a couple of his buddies. Definitely the immature, naive type. She glanced up at the ceiling, noting numerous model airplanes.
She said nothing, enjoying the fact that with every second she ignored him, he was getting more and more flushed.
"It ams okay if you don'ts want to talk."
They locked eyes for a split-second, long enough for her to notice that his eyes were frosted blue before he looked down again. Enough already. She turned on her sharp heel and pushed the door closed quickly with a flick of her glossy fingernails. He was taken aback by the sudden movement, but watched, curious.
She punched the power button on the tiny red remote next to her, moving her practiced hips gracefully. She hazarded a guess that it controlled the wall-to-wall speakers in the back.
"You probablies won't likes dis music," he warned in an apologetic voice, as the screaming, growling, thumping sounds filled the air. She supposed it was his band. Ugh. Not her cup of tea. She smiled anyway, feral in her surety, slid out of her red leather jacket, folded it into a heap at her feet. "I love it," she lied.
The bass was so loud that Toki could feel it in his chest, along with his heart pumping out of control. Most of the other groupies had waited for him to make the first move, been starstruck before they'd even arrived, ripping off their own clothes in a flurry of soft moans and squealing. What was up with this one? She was...she was slowly shimmying out of her skirt, peeling it down creamy thighs, watching him watch her. She was standing there in very tiny underwear. He looked again. His cock twitched in his pants. She rotated her hips and turned again, her round behind moving effortlessly to the rhythm of his guitar in the background.
She began moving closer to him until he took three timid steps backward and fell on his bed with a surprised grunt. She giggled. The drums rose to a fever pitch. This was going to be so easy. She pulled her hair free and shook it down her back. He made a tiny appreciative noise high in his throat, and whispered "Wowee" so quietly that she wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or not. His dick was talking for him anyway, right through his jeans.
"C'mon kid," she breathed into his ear. "Take off those pants."
He stiffened, palpably tense, narrowing his pale eyes. In less time than it took to blink twice, she found herself gasping for air and pinned face-down right where he had been sitting a moment before. He shoved her face into the bed viciously before letting her up for a heaving breath. Soft strands of his hair tickled her shoulders and back, and she laughed a little, still comfortable.
"Very funny, kid, now let me up."
"Kid? Kid?!" he repeated, incredulous.
She laughed harder. She couldn't help it. His cheeks were flushed deep red and he looked like a pouting little boy. But a switch that Toki sometimes forgot about had already flipped itself inside his head. He remembered in an instant what many years of physical and mental hardship had done to him. He became eerily calm and his voice took on a strangely pleased tone.
He laughed right along with her, for a few seconds. Then his voice got deadly serious.
"It ams nots funny, whore," he growled. She gaped at him, rolling her eyes. What the hell was this?
"Are you fucking serious? I'm out of here," she hissed. He was still bent over her, breathing heavily in her ear.
"You ams not going anywhere. I don't thinks you wants to."
Then his arms snaked out and pinned her again, one hand clamped over her mouth, the other taking its time wandering down her ass and the swell beneath the tiny strip of her panties. Now it was her turn to stiffen.
She didn't expect that from the sweet-faced kid who looked so small and shy in his too-big tee and ripped jeans. Was it so dark in here that she hadn't noticed how tall he actually was? How solid his arms looked? She silently cursed herself. Appearances could always be deceiving. If she managed to survive, she'd remember that for next time. Would there even be a next time?
She squeezed her eyes tight, opened them a fraction. One of his fingers wormed its way around, sliding across her clit lightly.
"What are you going to do?" she managed to squeak. Her clit pulsed and demanded more attention. She silently hoped that she wouldn't get wet and that he wouldn't notice. He chirped out another laugh, and turned to look her in the eyes, those piercingly pale irises lit up in amusement.
"Don't worries. I promise I won't do anythinks you don't asks me to. Okays? Ams this not why you're heres? I ask fors the hot sluts, right?"
She looked at those cold eyes suspiciously, and they seemed friendly. For now.
She twitched a hand. One of his shot out and pinned her head to the bed again.
"Rights?" he asked again, still smiling. She was extremely angry. But he was right. Sometimes she even liked it like this. Rough. Painful. Adrenaline pumping.
"Listen, kid, if you wanted this kind of sex, you should have specified beforehand," she spat out, twisting her face up again.
Still smiling, he talked amicably, as if he were sitting next to her on a park bench instead of poised above her like a wolf waiting to eat.
"There ams extra monies for you waitinks with my bodyguards outside. Ands, like I saids, I won'ts do anythinks you say no tos. Deal?"
"How much extra money?"
"Tens thousand," he smirked. She smiled inwardly. She could still outwit this dumb kid. He must have tons of cash to blow. She might even come back here if she played her cards right. With difficulty, she looked at him with his polite schoolboy smile and long mustache, and nodded twice, curtly. His grin widened, predatory.
"Oh, and ones more things, whore," he growled. "Don't ever calls me 'kid' agains."
She wasn't quite sure what she had agreed to yet, but was willing to find out. His long, teasing fingers felt so good on her that she got a little carried away, and Toki definitely noticed. He dipped down to her opening and smiled at her in a conspiratorial way.
"Someone ams wets down heres," he mocked, and then in one motion he covered her mouth again and slid a single digit inside. She gasped and then strained to get free. She could feel herself getting even slicker than before. Oh, shit. He knew. He knew that she liked it. Damnit. He pushed another finger in and curled them both inwards, grazing her g-spot. She squirmed, moaned, bit his hand. He let her go, a look of triumph on his face. "You likes dat, huh?" She whimpered, pulled herself together, answered "Yes," in a cold, prim voice. He pulled them out, stroked her clit again, and then flipped her over surprisingly easily, shifting his grip on her hands and pulling them over her head.
He smiled down at her, looking like he'd gotten lost on the way to a church picnic, except for his sarcastic smile. She didn't like to be chased. She liked to catch her own prey. This one was fighting back in a most off-putting way. Those icy eyes that had been too embarrassed to look at her earlier now drilled into her, daring her to say something. She waited and stared right back. He grinned sheepishly.
"You don't likes to talks, huh? Well hows abouts you open ups for me anyway?"
Her ears registered the teeth of a zipper and then his cock was pressed hard to the back of her throat, gagging her. She tasted skin, salt, and his sweat from the show. Her eyes watered, and she noticed, amused, that the makeup decorating his face was also on his legs. She coughed, lungs burning, but he held her head until he was satisfied. "What's wrong with you?" she gasped, drool sliding down her cheek. Her jaw was forced open again, aching with the width of him as he fucked her mouth, staring daggers as tears ran down her cheeks.
"Nothings," he laughed, pushing himself down her throat as far as he could, making her gag. "I promise," he said, bending down close to her face again, breath bittersweet and sharp with chocolate and alocohol. "You'll be beggings me to fucks you."
She wiped at a runner of spit, taken aback. He reached for her. His quick hands skimmed her body and slipped underneath that black bra to pinch and twist her nipples. She let out a cry, a real one, and there was no question about it. He knew he had the upper hand then. Toki was intensely excited. Usually, the others would have left by now. This one liked to play rough, he was sure of it. He'd make her beg.
He turned his back and pulled something out of a drawer. Soft red rope. She rolled her eyes again. "Is that all you've got?" she said, silently daring him to do his worst. But apparently, Toki had been practicing, and not at his guitar parts. She found her wrists bound tightly and with quick precision, and a feeling of dread and anticipation pooled in her belly and groin.
Something metal and cold as ice brushed her belly, and she yelped.
"Please, don'ts moves around too much. I mights askidentallies cuts you." She relaxed a bit when he neatly snipped through the center of her bra. Then she got pissed. That was expensive! "I hope you're going to p... oh!" she trailed off, as the blades of the scissors slid down the front of her underwear point-first. Her heart thundered harder, painfully, shooting intense shocks of pleasure to her crotch. They sliced through the scrap of fabric, and he laid them aside.
"Of course I'll pays for it." She felt her nipples harden. She was lying there in a garter belt and sheer peach stockings, staring at him, hands painfully twisted behind her back. He was staring back at her, curiously, waiting.
"Well?" she huffed. "Go on. Get it over with. You want to be in charge, don't you?"
He slowly brought up one hand, settling a long finger right on her clit. He tapped so lightly she almost couldn't feel it. He made no move to restrain her again. His fingertip tapped and traced and slid over her so slightly and gently that it made her crazy with wanting. He circled, pressed down, let up, tapped again and again. Hot rushes of blood flowed up to her face and made her ache. She made a high-pitched, desperate noise in her throat, struggling against her bonds. He continued until she was soaked. He laughed softly at her discomfort, and began to press harder, rub faster, in the softest, most tantalizing rhythm. He grinned sweetly, quickly pushing in index finger into her pussy. She gasped, and the finger stilled.
She looked at him. He was flushed. Panting. Enjoying this? His cock stood harder than ever, pressing against her thigh as he leaned over her. Still feeling stubborn, she remained silent, gasping, willing herself not to speak. He began to look angry. He withdrew his hand entirely and stood over her on the small bed. His eyes lingered as he pulled his faded blue-grey t-shirt off, revealing taut muscle and scars on a lithe frame. He moved towards her, accidentally stumbling over the jeans around his ankles. She made the mistake of letting out another tiny snicker.
He didn't like that at all. And she hadn't had as much experience with calming his crazy rages as his band mates had.
In a matter of seconds, he had slapped her face, hard. Hard enough to bring tears to her eyes and a swelling hot sting to her skin. She had no time to reflect on this, because just then he forced his cock so far into her throat that she couldn't breathe. Despite her better judgements and plans, she felt a warm shard of heat in her clit. Her jaw strained, trying to better fit his length into her throat. It hurt. Badly. He punctuated each hard thrust inside with a slap.
"Ams somethings funny?" he grunted in between using her mouth.
"Listen to me when I talks to you, you stupids little bitch," he snarled. It was getting harder to breathe, and he was hurting her face. She moaned, muffled by the Norwegian's dick, and he graciously pulled out again, momentarily back to the good-kid persona.
"So, likes I says, what ams so funnys?" he questioned, canine teeth showing.
She looked at those eyes. They were the colour of lake ice in the dead of winter. Blue-grey, unforgiving. He smiled wider, and grabbed her chin tightly, sliding his fingers under her throat to stroke her jugular. She looked away. This was more trouble than she'd signed on for. She'd just go along with him and earn that extra money. But no enjoying it! She knew what they said when escorts got too involved with 'special' clients. Weak. Useless. You're supposed to be seducing them. Not the other way around. Never let them think they've got you, unless you need to. They might think they're the boss for a while, but really, you have all of the mental power.
She hoped mental power would be enough. Her eyes darted away, and he tilted her chin to bore those wintry eyes into her straining face again.
"WHATS SO FUCKINGS FUNNY, WHORES?" he screamed into her face. A drop of spit hit her eyelid. Momentarily afraid someone would wake up, she remembered those words of wisdom, and put on her best 'downtrodden damsel' face.
"Nothing," she said, trying to sound defeated.
Toki knew that she was just playing along. He needed her to put just a little more into it than that. He licked his lips, chest tightening in anticipation, and wrapped both hands around her throat. She looked back coldly, then frantically as his fingers tightened. He squeezed hard, and she began to make tiny gasps.
Tighter still. Too late. She was lost to the world,pupils large, irises glazed with lust. He let her go momentarily, hit her face hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Her clit pulsed as she tried not to let them run down her cheeks, praying her wouldn't notice. He hit her again, bringing warm blood to her cheek and jaw. Those tears began to drip out, and Toki's shoulders shook in silent laughter. He won. Finally.
One hand still on her throat,laughter escaped his lips as he looked at her smeared makeup and defeated expression.
"You justs didn'ts know whats you was gettings into, huh?" he smirked, digging his fingers in tighter.
"Stands up, you stupids fucking sluts." he barked suddenly, pushing her up. She wobbled, off-balance and unable to stand quick enough for him because of the rope around her wrists. Quicker than she could follow, he put his strength behind a slap to her pussy. She squealed audibly, and he laughed that silvery sarcastic laugh again. She had too much pride to beg. Not at work. Not for this little kid. She had standards, and she would stick to them, damn it.
"Now turns around," he chided, spinning his finger and scooting to the edge of the bed. She stood with her back to him, forearms aching, licking her lips nervously. His hands wrapped around her hips from behind and dug in sharply. He pulled her closer, positioned her over his cock and gently rubbed the tip across her slit. She made a strangled gasp, sure that he would tease her like this for hours.
In one brutal thrust he slammed into her, thick and achingly hard. She moaned and writhed, bouncing on his cock as he used his powerful thighs and arms to let himself pound deeper, harder. She met each thrust with her own and shrieked. He leaned over her back and wrapped his arm around her throat. She clenched him, spurring him on to lift her and his hips higher and faster. Her cries were deafening. She felt his fingers slip around to her clit. She whimpered, shaking her head from side to side. He laughed again, leaned in closer. His devastating fucking stopped.
He smiled, leaned in, licked her earlobe and then bit down savagely, earning a loud yelp.
"Wells?" he whispered, panting. "I told yous you woulds begs me. So dos it, or gets the fucks out, you dumb little whore."
She came back to herself in feverish stages, realizing that her climax was quickly speeding away. She couldn't take it. One enjoyable outing couldn't hurt, could it? She bit her lip, flushed darkly, and spat out, "Please... please fuck me."
"What ams dat? Cans you say its a bit louders?"
"PLEASE FUCK ME!" she cried, embarrassed.
"Dat's all I neededs to hears," he said, laughing again, covering her mouth with one hand and lifting her up and down on his dick with the other. She moaned and licked his fingers. His strokes began to get more urgent, closer together. He was moaning loud, oddly sweet and melodic amid the blare of death metal and her desperate crying. He had his eyes squeezed tight, licking his lips and biting them as his cock pounded her pussy savagely.
He took a deep, shuddering breath.
"You likes dat, you dirty little slut?" he panted into her ear. She tried to hold herself back, failed, and came, eyes rolling back, sweating and yelling like a madwoman. Her contractions milked him, and he began to breathe in short, staccato gasps. Hot fluid spilled into her, once, twice, four times. She found herself smiling through the smeared makeup and what were sure to be bruises by tomorrow.
She didn't even care when he unceremoniously pushed her out the door, locked it, and slid an envelope into the hallway containing her money. Those creepy hooded guards escorted her out to the well-appointed car on the stone driveway that cut across a huge expanse of rolling grass. Something howled in the distance, and the wind whipped her skirt. The door slammed as the driver shut it. He too carried an impressive set of weapons on his person.
She counted the enormous stack of extra bills they handed her and reapplied her eyeliner and lipstick, smiling into a tiny white compact as the glossy car cruised silently through the throngs of early morning parties still raging after the concert. The warm air outside was thick with marijuana and bonfire smoke. She couldn't see the driver's eyes.
She asked him to change the song to something a little heavier. As the screech of the guitars started up, she got goosebumps on the back of her neck. There was a phone number tucked into her bag, written in a childish scrawl.
She hated to admit it, but she kind of liked death metal.