Title: Rock Bottom
Characters: Andrew
Rating: NC 17 / Adult
Summary: How did Andrew come to have that bruise on his face, and what sort of life has he been living on the streets?
Warnings: Set in S2. Non-con, graphic M/M scenes.
A/N: This story has been developing over the last few weeks. I've been in two minds about posting it but decided the only way I can get feedback is to post it and see if people think it's any good or not.
A WIP
The twenty shivers with the slight evening breeze as he holds it out tantalizingly before my eyes. I look from it and then up at him. He's all spruced up, a definite business man in his suit, shiny shoes and carefully fastened tie. About six foot tall, dark hair, piercing blue eyes and tanned complexion. Kind of guy who's only in this neighborhood for one thing. I'm not sure what he's expecting to get out of me for a mere twenty bucks. This guy oozes money, but still I reach out to take it from him and he withdraws his hand a moment just out of my reach and a smile appears on his lips. A smile which is now all too familiar to me, and one which makes my stomach churn a little as I get a sinking feeling deep inside.
"You can either take this twenty from me kid and we have a quick little tumble out here in this little shit hole of an alley you call home," he says to me, giving me a look of slight disgust. "Or there's a hundred in it for you, I check us into a motel and we have a little fun."
The word 'fun' drips off his lips and there's a glint in his eye. I'm not sure I trust this guy, but the weathers turning bad and the thought of a motel room is quite enticing. Even if the fun part doesn't quite entice so much. Plus a hundred would help me out a lot. Maybe get myself a motel room for a couple of nights, a little comfort for my efforts. I push the apprehensive feeling aside and stand up, he steps away and smiles again, sliding the twenty back into his wallet like he knew I was going to agree to his offer. Turning he heads off down the alley and I follow a few steps behind him. His car is sleek, like him, dark windows perfect for hiding the fact he's picking up boys from back alleys. He's gotta be in his late thirties, early forties. Probably got a good job in the city, maybe even a wife waiting for him to come home. But he has an itch and wants it scratching and he's willing to pay me a hundred to scratch it.
I slide onto the back seat as he opens the door for me, trying not to enjoy the feel of comfortable seating as he gets into the front seat and starts driving. I can see him checking me out in the rear view mirror but he doesn't say anything to me and I don't talk to him. It's a short drive to a seedy motel and he seems familiar in finding the place, it doesn't take us long to get there. Pulling into a space he parks up and turns in his seat to look at me.
"Go hang for a moment over there, I'll go get us a room." he nods a his head over to a shadowed area, somewhere I can slink into without much notice. He doesn't want the attention drawn to him, even in this part of town. No knowing who he may run into, a fellow worker out for the same kind of fun. I jump out of the car and head over, leaning against the wall and watch him as he heads in the opposite direction towards the reception office.
The winds picking up and biting at my fingers, I sling them into my pockets and put my back to the wind, waiting for him to return. A few minutes later he comes out of the office, looks in my general direction and gives a slight flick of his head before veering off to the left. It's a sign to follow him and I do, trying to stick to shadows. Not that this motel is used for much more than people trawling the streets looking for hookers and a place to bed down for an hour or so. I swallow back the apprehension again, it's not like I've done this before. Most guys are looking for a quick fumble, but one guy brought me to the same place a few weeks back, paid me sixty dollars for half hours work of service. But I feel nervous each time and I'm not proud of what I've become. Still, the thought of a hundred dollar bill in my pocket is too enticing to refuse. I could back out and walk off, but he's paused at a door, unlocked it and went inside and I'm following him in.
He flicks on the lights as I close the door, before he turns to me, drawing closer. He nods towards the en suite.
"Go take a shower, if I wanted to smell the shit we'd have stuck around the alley." He says harshly and I don't even flinch, just meekly do as he asks with a cocky grin on my face. As I head past him he grabs my arm, he's got a vice like grip, probably works out at the gym a couple of times a week. "And make sure you clean everywhere kid, I want a nice clean hole to fuck into."
The request is unusual but not surprising considering his looks and manner. He oozes the kind of power where he's used to getting his own way. Probably runs his own team for some multi million company. Not that I'm going to argue with him. The thought of a warm shower to clean up is a relishing thought, even if the goal is a little unsavory.
I give a meek nod and tell him 'Ok' and he lets go of my arm, the sting of his gripping fingers lingers on my skin as I go to the bathroom and close the door behind me. I avoid looking in the small mirror above the sink, instead stripping off quickly after I turn on the water and stepping under the warm spray. I grab the soap and lather up trying to take as much time as I can to enjoy the moment but not wanting to keep him waiting too long. I can't describe what it's like to clean up in a shower after so long without one, but it feels pretty good. The soap smells of nothing in particular, nothing like the ones mom used to keep in the bathrooms at home. No, can't think of her right now, can't think of home. Times like these I wonder what Dad would have thought of me. Can't think about that right now either. I banish them all to the back of my mind and make sure I do as he asked, no ordered, and make sure I thoroughly clean myself. Reluctantly I turn off the water and step out of the cubicle, grabbing a towel and quickly drying off before wrapping the towel around my waist.
I open the door and step back into the main room. It doesn't consist of much, a few pieces of furniture, small twin bed, cabinets either side, a chest of drawers and a desk and chair under the window by the door. He's sitting on the edge of the bed perusing a pamphlet he must have gotten from the drawer of the desk perhaps, his jacket's already off and draped over the back of the chair. I can feel my nerves getting the better of me again, my stomachs getting tight inside and I force myself to breathe and calm down. Not like I haven't done stuff like this before, usually it's in their cars, a blow job in exchange for cash. Jerking them off in the back alleys, a quick hand job buys me a couple of meals.
He looks over as I re-enter the room and folds the pamphlet, setting it aside on the bed as he appraises me from his position. I watch his eyes as they trace over me, like they are making a mental map. I've lost a little tone and some weight after being on the streets, but not enough that I'm not still appealing.
"Drop the towel." He tells me, I find I'm clutching it tightly with a fist where the two ends overlap.
It's like a mental struggle to let go but I force my fingers to do so and feel the towel dropping away. His eyes rove downwards quickly and his lips curl into a satisfied smile. With a sigh he stands and walks towards me, suddenly focusing his eyes on mine with a determined look. When he reaches me, he pushes me against the wall, hands solid on my chest, pressing closer as he presses his mouth to mine. He's insistent, tongue lapping wetly against my lips and I open my mouth to accommodate, his fingers sliding down my chest, over my stomach to my groin. It's a struggle to get my head into this kind of game, I need to focus and not think on what I've become. Just go with the flow and get things over with, make sure I make it good for his hundred bucks.
This guy's a serious kisser, tongue down my throat, it's swirling against my own and he tastes of coffee. I'm thinking expresso. Would make sense if he's a business man, the quick buzz it gives would keep him going into the late hours. My chest is getting tighter, I need to breathe and he's pressing close like he's making sure I know he's in charge. His hands are playing just a little with my cock, just feeling me up before they slide along the side of my thighs and up my body again. I can feel him getting hard from where he's pushing up against my leg and I slide my hands down to start working at his belt, doing the best as I can seeing as he's still kissing me and making it hard for me to manouvere. He pulls back, a little breathless and his eyes have grown darker, as he reaches up and pulls at his tie. I slide my hands up to help him, pulling it free and starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. He leans with one hand against the wall, letting me do the work as he runs his fingers over my chest.
"You got the stuff?" I ask him, something I should have asked him before we started all this. But the thought of a shower was too enticing to risk losing out on. Still, I'm not stupid and I'm assuming he isn't either.
Smiling at me, he just runs his fingertips whisperingly over my nipple playfully.
"Don't worry your pretty head over stuff like that kid." He tells me.
I pause at his middle button and look up at him closely. A smile plays at the edge of his lips but the looks in his eyes is anything but playful. I place my hands on his chest instead of helping him undress and look at him squarely.
"You got protection?" I ask him again, giving him a small push. He barely moves. "Because if you don't mister then maybe we should call this a night."
The hand which had been playing over my chest wraps around my wrist and he looks at me fiercely.
"We'll call this a night when I decide to call it a night. What makes you think you're calling the shots here?" He asks me, voice low as his eyes burn into mine.
I try to stay calm, even though inside that apprehensive feeling is starting to send chills running up and down my spine. I drop my free hand from his chest, his other hand still grips around my other one and it's starting to hurt a little.
"Look mister I don't want no trouble." I say, trying for the meek card. "Plenty of other things we can be doing right? Want a blow job? I've been told I give good head."
"Oh be sure I'll be keeping that pretty little mouth occupied for a short while," He growls to me, pressing close again. "Won't be the only hole I'll be accommodating tonight either."
I'm very aware I'm naked and he's fully clothed. I've gotten myself into a corner here and I need to get out of it fast. A coiling fear is suddenly growing within me and I press my hands to his chest again, using my strength to push him away. This time he does step back, obviously not expecting me to put up a fight at his suggestion. I may be desperate for money, but not that desperate. His fingers are still wrapped around my wrist as he jerks my arm forward as he steps back.
"No way, I'm not into that sort of crap. You haven't got the protection you don't get to fuck me." I tell him, trying to pull my arm away at the same time pushing at his chest again.
He looks angry now and I'm trying to not let fear fall into panic as he refuses to let go of me. Instead he jerks me back against the wall again, swiping my free hand away and his fingers grabbing my throat, coming up to wrap under my chin, pressing my head into the wall hard. I try and push him away but he's got height at his advantage and looms over me, overpowering me quickly despite my attempts to free myself. His grip on my throat and face makes it hard for me to call out, not that anyone round here would come to offer me any help.
"You listen to me you little fuck," He spits at me, his eyes are feral, full of anger and intent. I'm starting to release how futile my situation is becoming. "You're going to do as your told. I tell you to blow me, you're gonna suck my cock like it's the sweetest thing you've ever tasted. I tell you I'm gonna fuck you, then you're gonna offer your ass to me like a good boy. You understand?"
I give a slight nod of my head, not that I can move my face much considering his grip on me. This guy means business and I don't want to think of the consequences if I don't comply. Probably beat me up and still fuck me. Either way, I'm fucked, if I comply at least it won't hurt as much.
His lips screw up into a smile again as I blink, hoping the fear he's causing to rise inside me isn't evident in my eyes.
"Good," He says. "Now get on your knees and let's see how good that pretty mouth of your's really is."
His hand lets go of my face and resting on the wall beside my head and I start sliding down to my knees. He's still got hold of my wrist, the presence of his fingers like a throbbing ache now, I pull at my arm but he doesn't let go, instead pressing his hand and my wrist to the wall as he looks down at me.
"Try anything funny, I'll break your wrist." He threatens, smirking down at me. I know it's a promise.
I concentrate of undoing his pants one handed. I'd already unbuckled the belt, just a button and zipper to work on. They undo easily and I push the folds away, fingers dragging on the band of his boxers, pulling them down. He's already half hard as I free his cock from the confines of his pants. I lean forward a little, tongue flicking out to lick at the tip, I hear him suck in a small breath of satisfaction as I wrap my lips around the head. He grunts in approval as I work on sliding more into my mouth, using my fingers to delve past his boxers and play with his balls. I can feel his shaft hardening quickly as I use my tongue to press against it, moving my head back and forth, finding a rhythm as he groans in approval above me. I work on sucking as I pull back, tongue massaging the underside of his shaft as I slide forward again. Fingering his balls for extra stimulation. He jerks his hips a little and I try to take him deeper, I know I need to make this good for him. I've no doubt his threats aren't empty ones.
I feel fingers on my head. I've kept my hair shorn since being on the streets, it keeps the lice away. One less bug to worry about, what with roaches and fleas to put up with. He's got nothing to grip onto, but it doesn't stop him from putting his hand there as he jerks his hips again, obviously enjoying what I'm doing by the sounds he's moaning out. I chance a look up at him as I pull back sucking till my cheeks are hollowing. He's looking down at me, catches me looking up and smiles with satisfaction before letting out a groaning breath.
"Oh yeah, mmm," Are his non descrip dialogue, along with the odd 'Fuck yes' thrown in for good measure.
I concentrate on sucking and working my tongue on the throbbing shaft for what drags into minutes. I roll his balls in my fingers, feeling them tighten, willing his orgasm to come quickly. His hips are jerking quicker and he's gotta be close. I move my head faster, urged on by his satisfied moans and wanting this to be over. His grip isn't as tight around my wrist but it's still there, like a chain holding me in place. It doesn't take much longer, each stimulation too much for him to keep up with and suddenly he gives a sharp thrust and a yell. I feel warm liquid hitting the back of my throat and pull back a little, his fingers at the back of my head making sure I don't pull back fully, instead he jerks hips again, making sure I'm fed every drop. I can feel him softening in my mouth as I withdraw my fingers and finally his fingers let up their pressure on my skull. He pulls back with a sigh and his cock drops limply from my lips. I look at it where it drops by the stark darkness of his pinstripe trousers, it's glistening with the moisture of my saliva and traces of him cum.
My arms starting to hurt from the angle he's holding it and he gives it a pull, a silent command for me to stand. I comply, placing my other hand against the wall and getting to my feet, he's smirking at me like someone who knows he's got the advantage over the underdog. That's how he sees me, not as a person, but as a little fuck toy he's paid for for a few hours. I'm no more a person to him as the hookers on the street corners he passes by on his way into this part of town. The first time I took money in return for a sexual favor, I promised I'd never do it again. But it's easy money and when you've not eaten anything save for what you can find in the dumpster, easy money becomes enticing.
He lets go of my wrist and I rub at it, trying to chase the ache away though it's starting to throb. I know I'll have bruises there from his fingers come morning. He leans towards me, fingers running along my jawline.
"See kid, that wasn't hard was it. You look like you were enjoying yourself." He gives a soft chuckle, pressing his lips gently to mine a moment before pulling back again. "Now, go get on the bed."
I look at him defiantly, trying to think of a solution out of this situation I've put myself in. This guy is dangerous, something I'm now well aware of and if I could leave now I'd be happy. But he's not letting me go anywhere in a hurry if he has his way. He steps back away from me and looks at me with an expectant look, I swallow and I can taste drops of his cum still in my throat. Even if I could make a run for it, my clothes are in the bathroom and there the only ones I have. If I locked myself in the bathroom, I still have to get past him and though I'm quick he's bigger and certainly stronger than me. All my options right now are futile and I follow his order, sidestepping him and heading for the bed.
"Face down." He tells me as I reach it. My stomach is churning again as I slide onto the bed on my stomach, facing away from him I grimace at what's going to happen.
Since Justin, I've only done it with one other guy and that was pretty tame. He was small and didn't last long, pretty unsatisfying though he seemed pleased with himself. Justin and me, we'd played around a little, but had never gone all the way until we actually became serious. We'd only been serious for a short while before mom dumped me in the middle of nowhere and lets just say I was more of a top in the relationship, fucked Justin more times than he'd fucked me, which was only three times. This guy was well hung, certainly seemed to know what he was doing and I'm starting to get afraid of what damage he could end up doing to me. I try not to think if he's done this before, rode bareback with other guys without a care to them or evidently himself.
The side of the bed dips and he's climbing onto it, I don't look at him but he's still fully clothed as he straddles my back, he's taller and heavier than me and it's uncomfortable as he sits on me. I can feel the breath in my lungs slowly filtering out as he leans down over me, running fingers along my sides. I keep my eyes closed but my face to the side so I can breathe, what little breathe I can pull into body with his weight settled right on top of me. I try and ignore the shakiness of my breath, my nerves starting to get the better of me. Sitting back, he's moving and I sense something drop by my face. I open my eyes to find it's his tie which he's pulled snake like from where it hung open at his neck. Leaning forward again he's pushing at my arms.
"Put your arms above your head." He tells me, once more the tone making it an order, daring me to disobey.
I eye the tie and realise what he's planning to do and panic sets in again. I move my arms but not above me, instead planting my palms in the mattress and trying to sit up slightly.
"Hey I'm right here with you mister, no need to-."
A heavy blow halts my words in and instead my head whips round and hits the mattress, cheek throbbing from where his fist has just glanced off the bone under my eye. My arms buckle from the shock of the punch and I know I'm in real trouble here as I feel him grabbing one of my wrists and the feel of material wrapping round it. I can't focus, the punch knocked the breath out of me and the throbbing in my cheek is starting to spread over the side of my face. Before I can get my bearings he's pulling at my other arm and I feel the touch of material wrapping round my other wrists before it's pulled sharply against the other and he binds my hands together.
"I'm going for a shower, wouldn't want you leaving before the fun begins." He tells me, hands resting on my shoulders as he leans over me.
His weight lifts from me and he's gone from the bed. I blink a little, trying to rid the smarting in my eyes. I pull on my arms, the tie's wrapped around the headboard and securely bound to my wrists. I look up at them, even if I sit up I'd not be able to untie the knots. If I managed to sit up I may be able to keep him off me for a while, try and get a few good kicks in, but he's got a serious advantage over me here and I'm afraid of how dangerous he could get if I don't co-operate.
I can hear the shower in the bathroom and turn my head, he's left the door open and I can see him quickly washing himself down, a clear view of the bed should I try anything. The safest option as I see it is to comply with whatever he's got in mind and I drop my face to the pillow, squeezing my eyes shut to stop the tears that are threatening to fall. My face aches from where he punched me and I know I'll have a bruise come morning from it. I listen, breathing in stale air through the material of the pillow and hear the shower turn off. Silence again as he towels off, and I'm aware of my skin starting to get goose bump from the cold air of the room.
"Now then kid, remember how I expected to see that ass being presented to me?" He's testing me but I'm not about to make this experience worse than it's already turned out to be.
It's with reluctance that I force myself to bring my knees up under me from where I've been lying stretched out. Having my hands tied above my head doesn't help but I manage to do it without taking much time. I suck in a ragged breath, hide my face in the pillow and lift up my hips, screwing my face up like if I close my eyes none of this is happening, it's just a bad dream and when I open them it will all be over.
Only it's not a bad dream or a nightmare. It's real and he's by the bed and I can feel his fingers running slowly up my thigh to the curve of my ass. The bed dips again and he places his hand on the small of my back as he positions himself behind me.
"Spread your legs, show me what you've got for me boy." He growls, his voice low and edgy.
I ignore the flush of embarrassment I can feel rushing over me as I do as he tells me, spreading my knees further apart. His hand slides from my back and over my ass as he sighs in approval with an 'Oh yeah', like this is what he's been looking forward to all day.
"You've got lucky kid." He says and I hear the tiniest of 'clicks' as he speaks. "Someone left some lube in the bathroom cabinet, so at least I'll have something to help me slide into that pretty tight little pucker you got waiting for me."
I try not to breath too happy a sigh of relief at this piece of information. He's still gonna fuck me bare but at least the lube will make things a little easier. I feel a finger probing at said pucker and try to relax, this won't go well if I'm all nerved up. It isn't easy and he isn't gentle, uncaring about whether I'm ready for it, after a few small probings he forces the finger past the ring of muscle and I bite my lower lip as he jerks it in an out a few times. He pulls it out and probes again, this time with two and once more forces them past my hole with barely time for me to prepare for them. I try and breath, feeling the fingers jerking rather than sliding in and out. He doesn't care, just wants to help himself along a little. What I want here doesn't even register in his mind. He doesn't pause to think that perhaps if he took a little time, I'd make this good for him. He wouldn't have to force it out of me. But I think he gets off on the power trip he's getting from this. I'm sure the image of a young man tied up and offering their ass to him is a turn on too.
After probing and scissoring his fingers a few times and not nearly enough time to prepare me fully, (I remember Justin enjoyed taking his time preparing me, the few times he fucked me), he withdraws his fingers again. One hand stays on my ass and I know he's lubing himself up, then his other hands settles on my hip and I can feel the stickiness of lube on his fingers as they grip onto me. I take in a breath, try to relax and be willing to this as I feel the dull rounded head settle at my hole. He's pushing in and the only sound I can hear is him sucking in a breath as his fingers bite into my skin.
I can taste blood on the tip of my tongue from where I'm biting down on my lower lip and squeeze my eyes shut as tears start to well up in them. My ass feels like it's being stretched and I'm trying to relax into the feeling, this is only just starting and the pains going to get worse. It's not a sharp pain, more like a dull permanent ache mixing with the harsh grip of his fingers on my sides. He grunts in approval at his progress, although I feel stretched and full I know he's only just started entering me. I can't hold in the yell of pain as he suddenly jerks his hips, pulling at me from where his fingers grip me as he harshly pushes into me. What little lube he used helps him slide inside, but my body's fighting this intrusion and my ass feels stretched and stuffed, I grind my teeth together to stop any groans of pain escaping from me.
He pauses, with a satisfied 'Fuck yeah' of approval before he starts to pull out and jerking back in again. I bury my face into the pillow as he starts to fuck me and feel a flush of shame start to rise within me as I feel myself getting hard. I moan as a sudden shiver of pleasure hits me as his cock brushes against my prostate and he pauses when he hears me, obviously hearing my small moan of approval. He pulls back and fucks into me again and once more brushes that small bud of nerves inside which gives me a sudden tingle of pleasure and I can feel myself getting hard from the stimulation despite of how it's being given.
"Oh yeah, like that don't you." He growls and one of his hands leaves go of my hip and slides under me, I feel it grip around my shaft.
The extra friction of his fingers wrapped around my cock as he pushes into me again makes me harder and I'm not even fighting the feel of it. I'm totally out of control with this, though that coiled sickened feeling in my stomach hasn't subsided. It grows even more as I react to his movements, his fingers creating a tight 'o' I'm fucking into with every thrust he gives to me. He's enjoying getting me off this way, knows it wrong but he thrives on the power surge it gives him, knows I can't help but react to what he's doing. It's the wrong type of reaction but I'm not even putting up a fight, just accepting and taking it, like a good fuck whore should.
I know I'm moaning, partly through gritted teeth because this is wrong and I don't want this. But the pleasure is too much to ignore and he's punishing my prostate with his cock head, jerking his hips, purposefully aiming for that spot he knows is causing my body to enjoy this.
"You like that you little cock tease? Want more?" He's playing me, fucking with my head and I'm moaning in reaction because I can't last much longer.
Although I don't want to I'm pushing my hips back to meet him, needing that little extra to push me over the edge and he's happily obliging my efforts. The hand gripping around my shaft starts moving up and down faster and I groan at the extra stimulation and suddenly I jerk as he gives a sharp pull at my hip, fucking into me with a renewed force. My body tenses and I'm seeing sharp spots of white behind my eyelids, my body bucking as his hand milks my cock, making sure I ride the orgasm out as he stills a moment, my ass muscles spasming round his hard shaft.
I bury my face deep into the pillow, ashamed of what's just happened, wanting to curl into a ball and hide myself. Only I'm aware of the material now digging into my wrists, my arms are starting to ache. I can taste bile in my throat and suddenly I have a mental picture in my head of what this must look like. I shut of the image and even worse the thoughts starting to filter into my head, that this kind of play was just the kind of play Dad was into.
He's moving again and I'm aware of my whole body aching. My arms are painfully tensed, my wrists tingling from the tug of material. My back aches from it's bent low position and my leg muscles are cramping. His fingers are clenching into my hips again and I know I'll have marked bruises there when this is all over, and my ass aches with a strange sensation I know I'll be aware of long after this is over. He's moving faster now and I'm silently begging for this to be over soon. I can hear his voice but it's a monotonous drone of 'Fuck yeahs' and 'so fucking tight kid' and varied remarks on how much of a cock whore I am, mixed in with pleasured moans of enjoyment and heavy dragged in breaths. His moans become more insistent and he's slamming into me with more force now, I feel like he's trying to crawl right inside me, persistent in making sure he gets the best out of this experience.
I can feel him losing control, his bodies reactions too much for him to keep up with. His thrusts become erratic and his fingers must be knuckle white because their grip tightens and he's grinding against me balls deep as he growls deep, the sounds guttural in my ears and I can feel his cum shooting into me, it's warm and his cock is pulsing in my abused passage. His grip finally lifts as he sucks in deep breaths of satisfaction.
My body is shivering from ache and tension when he finally pulls away from me. I don't move even when he unties me, I feel like a discarded rag doll, boneless and lifeless. He pads off to the bathroom and shuts the door and I move tentatively. Everywhere hurts, even my jaw where I've been clenching my teeth together. My cheek throbs with a dull pain from where he hit me and I turn onto my side slowly, facing the bathroom so I can see when he emerges, though I'm loathe to look at him. I feel exhausted, like I used to after a swim meet after a challenging race. Closing me eyes I try not to think about what's just happened and a slow ebb of drowsiness starts to filter in on my senses.
I must have drifted into sleep because I jump slightly hearing the bathroom door open again. He's standing in the doorway, clothed once more with a satisfied smug smirk on his lips. He heads for the door and pauses at the desk.
"Thanks kid, it's been memorable. Something to remember me by." He says, holding up his tie to me and dropping it in a pile atop the desk and picking up his jacket. He pulls his wallet from it's pocket and takes out a note, placing it atop of the tie, payment for my services. "Rooms paid for until morning, you may as well stick around the rest of the night. Just be out by seven, wouldn't want to get yourself into trouble now would you."
With that he's opened the door and disappeared into the night. I don't move for a moment, like I'm waiting for him to come back. I hear a car rev up in the parking lot and eventually move, stumbling from the bed to the bathroom. I feel like I'm going to throw up but aside from some dry heaving over the toilet I'm okay. I lean over the sink, my fingers going white the way I'm gripping onto the white edge. I can see red marks on my wrists and close my eyes before lifting my head and looking in the mirror. It's like I'm not me anymore. I see my reflection but don't recognise the guy looking back at me. There's a darkening bruise swelling just under my eye from where he hit me and suddenly my vision is blurring from tears. Wiping the back of my hand across my face I try to subdue them and turn to the shower.
I turn on the water and step under it, telling myself it's to take advantage of having such a commodity at my disposal. Who knows when I'll next get a shower. Only I pick up the soap and scrub at my skin until it starts going red and the heat of the water feels like it's scalding into me, washing him away. Standing under the flow I can cry and pretend I'm not, salty tears mixing with hot steamy water. When I finally emerge I get dressed quickly, opening the bathroom I look at the bed with a mixture of longing and loathing. I'd have stayed but the thought of lying on the bed after what's just happened makes me sick to my stomach again and instead I go to the door, pausing at the desk.
It's only then I notice all he left me is a fifty, it lies atop the tie like a mocking reminder that I'm new to this and that I got in way too deep. A rookie mistake and I deserved the punishment for it, at least that's what I tell myself when I pocket the fifty and leave the tie lying on the desk. If I take the money, what just happened wasn't rape, it was my own fault for getting in over my head. Next time I make sure they pay up first and if they want to get kinky, I'll charge more. I don't look back when I let myself out of the room and skulk into the shadows to leave the motel and get back to my small corner in the alley surrounded by familiar streets.
I try to forget the nights events and assure myself that it won't happen again.
To be cont