Part 2/3
I apologize for not having this chapter in sooner. Smut is rather difficult for me to write. I know that's no excuse, but it's the only one I can offer.
This chapter contains smut and mild BDSM.

The back of Kurt's legs hit the edge of the bed, causing him to topple onto the dark duvet, the large figure falling on top of him. It wasn't the first time he had been in such a position, and he highly doubted it would be the last. He had thought, or maybe it had been hoped, that because he had known David before everything had happened that none of this would take the turn that it always did. He realized, now, that it had been a fool's hope. No one treated him like a delicate flower in the Blooming Rose. It was all brash fucking, whipping, shackling, cumming. He was an idiot to think that Dave Karofsky would have changed any of that.

No, Kurt realized, this is probably exactly what he wanted in high school every time he shoved me up against a locker.

The thought scared Kurt, and forced him to look away from the man above him, closing his eyes tightly. For a moment, he was back at his Junior year at McKinley, laughing with his friends, pining over boys he would never have, not even able to watch those movies, getting body-checked and slushied by Karofsky. It was too hard, too hurtful for him to imagine that the same boy who had left him with bruises from his harsh shoves and stolen his first kiss was now straddling him on a king-sized bed after having paid good money for him. It was easier to pretend that Karofsky was just another client that Kurt had never met before today and would, hopefully, never meet again.

"What's your name?" Kurt asked, using all the measures of the facade he was putting up. He watched as Karofsky pulled away a little, quirking a brow.

"You know my name."

In a voice a little firmer, his fingers curling against the skin of his client's neck, he responded, "No. I do not."

There was a small silence, but Kurt could sense as it clicked into place like a set of gears churning against each other in Karofsky's mind. A low chortle filled the room and Kurt set his jaw. Slightly offended, he stayed silent, waiting for the larger man to get a grip on his minor case of the giggles.

"Do you always ask your clients their names?" came Karofsky's voice, a tinge of a low chuckle still laced in his words. All it managed to do was force a deep-set frown on to Kurt's face. Karofsky wasn't an idiot in non-academic situations, Kurt would have to give him credit for that. However, it was also a poorly orchestrated facade, so Kurt wouldn't exactly praise him for seeing through it either.

"Yes." The word was very drawn out and through gritted teeth, and such a poor excuse for a lie. Still, Kurt kept his eyes locked on the larger man above him, trying not to notice the mixed sort of hazel green in his eyes for the first time.

There was silence for a moment, and the smaller boy thought perhaps his client was trying to think up a sort of stage name for himself. 'Neanderthal' would've done just fine for Kurt, and would have probably amused him as well. However, suggesting the insulting nickname he had thought up back in high school (one that he did not feel the least bit of remorse for, considering the numerous appellations that Karofsky had dubbed him with) would only result in the destruction of the veneer he was trying to uphold.

The larger boy's deep voice came finally, a rumble of "Karofsky." Kurt was surprised, seeing as he had expected there to be some sort of clever alias after all that thought that he had seemed to put into it. Obviously, he hadn't gained all that much intelligence since their high school years.

"Well, Mister Karofsky-"

"Doctor Karofsky."

Karofksy's words were so clear, so crisp that Kurt's entire body tensed and a chill ran through him. He felt his fingers inadvertently coil around the small hairs on the back of the other man's neck. A doctor? Not only had Karofsky obviously done well for himself, he had become a doctor as well? Gotten a PhD in some unknown field? Maybe he even lived here in the city, had a gorgeous wife at home and a couple kids with his deep hazel eyes, and his strong cheekbones. Maybe he-

Kurt cut the thoughts off. It was a lie, it had to be. That was why he had spent so long thinking up an answer when Kurt had asked him originally, and now he was just attempting to impress him. Well, he was still the same lying loser he was in high school, and Kurt could see right through him. He was like a pane of glass - so transparent.

Letting out a short laugh, near a scoff, Kurt nodded and trailed his tender hands down the ripples of Karofsky's arms. He couldn't help himself as he returned, "Right. PhD. You look more like someone who takes out the trash in the hospital." His voice held a tinge of laughter as well.

He watched as the man above him's face slowly darkened. Kurt could feel his heart thudding in his ears with just a flip of the switch.

And with something so simple as the taunting insult, something had broken inside Karofsky. He wasn't looking up at some composed client as he had been before. Now, he was looking up at the boy he had known in high school. As he watched the smile fade, the eyes go blank, Kurt knew exactly what he'd done. He watched as Dave shook his head, just a slight movement, barely even discernible as a shake. His marvelously arched brows knitted together, his lips pulling up as well. All he saw was that scared little boy in the locker room and the scene he had played over and over again in his head.

All he saw was Karofsky's face right after he had told him that he didn't like chubby, sweaty, balding boys. So confused, full of anger, hatred, self-loathing.

So, of course, the broken look soon faded to the familiar anger, and Kurt was only half surprised when he was flipped harshly onto his stomach. The fingers digging into his hips were going to leave bruises, he just knew it. But what were a few more bruises? Really, he should have been more used to this type of treatment from the neanderthal he knew in high school.

Feeling a warm breath next to his ear, Kurt perked his head up a little from the mattress, ready to tell his customer to go and fuck himself - that would send him reeling - but a low voice came instead. "Can't judge a book by its cover, Fancy. You should've figured that out by now. I mean, you look like you should be working at Vogue. But here you are... getting your ass pounded by random guys just so you can make a buck..." There was silence for a moment, then Dave was talking again, though his voice was farther away, and Kurt's head was shoved back into the dark duvet so that he could scarcely breathe.

"And y'know what? Serves you right too. Little, fucking prudent Kurt Hummel. Going on and on to that pillowbiting boyfriend of yours that I stole your first kiss. That I defiled you. Sexually harassed you. And now you're sellin' your ass like its an out of season Gucci scarf takin' up space in your closet." A pause followed, and Kurt gave a gasp as his head was yanked harshly up by his roots. It felt like his hair was about to be pulled out in clumps from his head and he would be left bald. "And now you've gotta sell it to me. It's not sexual harassment when your giving it out to everyone, now, is it, Fancy?"

Not finding his witty retorts or diva comebacks anywhere in his vernacular, the smaller man settled for keeping his mouth firmly shut. He felt as though his heart was going to fall into the pit of his stomach, then be dissolved by the acids that lay there. There was a burning want to kick the larger man off of him, make a break for it. However, Karofsky had paid for him. This was his job, and he wasn't about to be punished by his boss for not servicing his customer to the best of his abilities. With that thought, he managed to press his hips back against the other man's crotch, rubbing against him. A low groan emitted from behind him, followed by an ever-hardening hill pressing against his ass.

But it was starting to feel more like a mountain than a hill, and Kurt tacked on the excuse that he was trained to moan at such a sensation. However, one had never actually escaped him rather than him having to force it out.

"You're all talk... you've always been all talk." A little frustrated that his voice came out breathier than he would have liked, Kurt needily rubbed his backside against the larger man's pelvis again. "Even in high school...so why don't you just do something about it."

That was all the prompting Dave needed. There was barely a flicker of a thought in the back of his mind about whether or not he was just another customer for the man beneath him; a customer with a history, but a customer nonetheless. No, he was far too focused on the curve of Kurt's hips flush against his own, the friction causing the most delightful sensation in his nether regions. Uttering a low, guttural grunt, Karofsky wrapped his thick fingers around the button of the smaller man's trousers.

"Turn around," he commanded in a heavy tone, though his voice sounded like a whisper in his mind. He watched in silence as the courtesan propped himself back up and turned around to reveal cheeks pinked with arousal and a bottom lip pulled between his teeth. The lip was released, the color slowly flooding back into it, making it a deep red. A sharp pang of arousal sounded through Dave's body, making itself comfortable in the increasingly tight area in the crotch of his pants.

The smaller man looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, as though waiting for his next order. A voice inside Dave's head reminded him that this was Kurt's job, he wasn't actually enjoying any of these things. He wasn't actually aroused by any of these, nor did he want to have sex with him. It was almost enough for Dave to leave and forget about the entire ordeal.

Almost.

His fingers hooked in the waistband of Kurt's tight jeans, pulling them over the curve of his ass and past his thighs. Standing up from the bed, he unzipped the other's boots, dropping them to the floor and pulling the skinny jeans the remainder of the way off with relative ease.

The words that came out of Kurt's mouth when he settled himself back on the bed surprised the larger man, though it probably shouldn't have.

"What? You don't want to screw me in my 'fuck-me' boots?" The voice was sultry, and upon looking at Kurt's face, he found that his finger was trailing the seam of his lips enticingly. The swelling in Dave's jeans became even more unbearable, causing him to shift on the bed uncomfortably. However, Kurt caught the shift, moving his leg quickly and settling it in between the V of Dave's thighs. A groan escaping his lips. The psychiatrist closed his eyes tightly and exhaled a deep breath from his nostrils.

A short nod was all that he could offer in response, then, somewhere, after what felt like digging for ages, he found his own voice once more. "Undo my pants."

Barely a second had passed before Kurt was on his knees, deft fingers working to undo the simple buttons on Dave's suit pants. The process took a little longer than it had when Dave had been undoing his, considering the fact that Kurt was doing it one-handed, appearing to become distracted every now and again by the fascination of rubbing his palm against the bulge beneath the fabric. Although he watched as Kurt licked his lips, seemingly subconsciously, it wasn't until his pants were down around his thighs, his erection less constricted in the thin fabric, that Kurt let out a soft, surprised whimper.

"Oh," came that soft, falsetto voice that Dave was more-than-familiar with. However, the usually airy quality of Kurt's voice was weighed down with lust. It was nearly too much, watching as Kurt leaned in, pressing his full lips to the outline of Dave's clothed erection, licking the fabric and sending a pang of pleasure coursing through the larger man's body.

When the fabric of his boxers was pulled down far enough so that his cock was released, slightly springing from the restraints, another short gasp found its way into the air, having made an escape from Kurt's lips.

There was a stuffy silence for a moment before the courtesan wrapped his fingers around the base of the Dave's cock, pulling his hand up in a short stroke. Dave sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, biting near hard enough to draw blood before he heard Kurt speak. "...you're really big...I hadn't expected...mmm...most guys come in here to compensate for how small they are...and I thought in high school...you might have been overcompensating...but you weren't... You're...wow."

And Dave nearly let himself fall for the act of a whore doing his job. Ten years ago, he would have fallen over himself if Kurt had been praising the size of his cock, running his hand over the shaft idly but with purpose. Now, he was near to doing the same, but realization struck him that this was all some play, some part that Kurt had constructed to pleasure his costumers. Dave was no different than any other, but why should he be?

And so the question arose once more; why should Kurt be any different than any of the other whores Dave had paid for?

The larger man released a bit of a harsh grunt, pulling Kurt away from his erection and shoving him so that he was laying back on the bed. The bed springs creaked in protest from the sudden, violent movement, and Kurt was sent sprawling on the dark duvet, a wide-eyed, confused look splashed across his face. It took a substantial amount of willpower not to coddle the smaller man right there, letting him continue on with his production. However, Dave reminded himself that no one played doe-eyed innocent better than Kurt Hummel.

"I'm not paying you to talk. I'm paying you to do what the fuck I say." There was a pause in the air, the smaller man making no movement, still obviously in shock from whatever lustful spell he had been under, or, as Dave thought, trying to regain himself after his act was shattered. "Now take your panties off and move farther up the bed," he continued in a rough voice. He took of his own trousers and boxers the rest of the way, moving himself off the bed, then walking over to the closet and pulling out the chest of kink items. Finding a bit of rope and a ball gag, he figured the minor excursion a success, closing the lid and turning back to Kurt, finding him in the exact position he had requested.

Without so much as a word, Dave moved to where Kurt was on the bed, and grabbed his hip firmly, twisting him over so that he was flat on his stomach. Taking the rope, he tied Kurt's hands together behind his back, letting his face press into the mattress before he yanked him up harshly by the back of his hair. The ball gag was strapped into place within a moment, Karofsky letting Kurt's head fall back against the dark comforter of the bed.

His hand running over Kurt's flexed shoulder, feeling as it rippled beneath his fingertips, Dave bent over Kurt. He could hear the labored breathing behind the gag, the other man's breath coming out in short pants through his nostrils, as if he was terrified. Such a good actor.

"I should fuck you until you scream, Fancy." A short noise came from behind the gag, and Kurt's eyes shut. Not able to tell if it was a whimper of wanting or one of fear, Dave pressed his palm to Kurt's neck, pushing it down and burying his face deeper in the mattress. "In fact...that might be just what I do... Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you, whore?"

It seemed strained, but the smaller man nodded his head almost as soon as the question was asked, though his eyes were still tightly screwed shut. It was as though it was an automatic, fluid answer that had been drilled into his mind. Still, that did not detour Dave from the task at hand, and he abruptly sat back up, kneeling between Kurt's legs. He reached over to the bedside table, pulling out a string of condoms as well as some KY from it, laying them back on the bed.

Without so much as a thought, Dave ripped open the package, taking out the rubber and rolling it onto his erection. A healthy amount of lubricant was applied before he slid his hand under Kurt's stomach, bringing his hips up to a level that Dave could work with.

Not even a thought went through his mind of prepping, and why would it? Kurt was a whore; by definition, he did not need to be stretched to accommodate Dave's girth or length, considering he gave it up about every day. But Kurt must have been a fantastic actor, considering the moment the larger man slammed into him, a muffled scream erupted from behind the gag. And he was tight. Not near virgin-tight, but also a far cry from what Dave had expected him to be working in a place like the Blooming Rose and looking the way he did.

But even the smothered yelp that came out as Dave drew out and thrust back in was not a road block in the larger man's eyes. His hips picked up speed, the bed springs giving off their dutiful creaking sound. The sharp sounds of skin on skin cut through the air as he continued to hammer into the courtesan.

None of the sounds of the brash fucking could have sheltered the sound that came from Kurt, though. A soft whimper, caught just barely at a moan. Dave noticed how his hands were fisted into balls behind him now, trying to get free so he could find some relief. Only slowing the motion of his hips a bit, he reached around, taking Kurt's length in his hand and stroking him, earning a louder, muffled moan from behind the gag. Dave almost lost himself right then and there.

Keeping one hand steady on the smaller man's hips, he moved the one that was on his length to undo the gag, letting it fall to the bed. "You're likin' this, aren't you, Fancy?"

There was only silence for a split second before Kurt's unrestricted moans filled the room, short little breaths coming from his mouth before he could even speak. When he did, it was almost a rushed, lust-induced, addicted person talking. Begging. "Yes...yes yes! You're so big. Mmm... Fuck me harder, Karofsky... fuck me harder. Yes! Rightthereohgodplease!"

Dave moved his hand down the small of Kurt's back, his fingers dragging through the small pools of sweat that had collected there in the crevices of his spine. His hands were already at the rough knot of the rope when he heard Kurt's voice again.

"Untie me...fuck, Dave...untie me..."

Kurt really wasn't expecting Dave to untie his hands, for the simple reason that there was a quite large chance that he would retaliate and fight back to what was being done to him. And that should have been exactly what Kurt was planning on doing as soon as he was free of the larger man.

But it wasn't.

No, instead, the moment that his hands were free from their bindings, Kurt propped himself up on his palms and pushed his hips hard back against Dave. Mouth open, he let out a soft gasp as Dave's (admittedly larger than he was used to) cock brushed past his prostate.

His own length was developing a dull, consistent ache to it, and he was forced to think back and try to remember the last time he had had an orgasm. Most of the customers didn't care about his needs, simply about their own. But that was right. They were the customers. They were paying for this, and Kurt was earning back his freedom. He was supposed to serve them, not the other way around.

Still, that thought boring a hole in his mind did not stave him from opening his mouth and pouring out, "Dave...touch me," in a pleading voice that surprised even himself.

The thrusts did not slow down, and Kurt thought perhaps that he would be left to deal with himself. His hand was just sliding down over his stomach when he felt a different, bigger, stronger hand moving inward over the skin of his thigh. A staccato of a breath left him before he sucked in air through his nose, mind reeling as he felt the same hand wrap itself around his length, pumping just barely off the beat of the thrusts into his body.

Burying his face into the duvet, the smaller man let out a noise halfway between a squeal and a moan when a sharp thrust backward on his part met a barreling one by David. His fists curled around the blanket, fisting large clumps of fabric in the sudden flourish of ecstasy he was being submitted to. His hips continued to push themselves back, meeting Dave's almost every time. The room, before filled with heated words and past memories, was now transformed into nothing but the sound of their bodies meeting, Dave's low grunts, Kurt's breathy moans.

After what seemed like hours of fluid movements, which really only accumulated to around three-quarters of an hour, Kurt found himself on his back, hand over his chest. His eyes were closed as he listened to the soft, steady breathing beside him. Rolling his head to the side, he opened his eyes, only to be graced with a pair of hazel ones belonging to one David Karofsky.

"Do you always stay so long after you fuck your whore?" he asked, trying to be as curt as he could with the other man. Still, he couldn't help it as a soft smirk fell onto his face.

He watched as Dave propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at him. "Do you always come three times in one session? Or am I going to have to pay extra for that too?"

Letting out a soft chuckle at the question, Kurt looked back towards the ceiling, electing not to answer. It almost didn't feel right to make David pay for him; not when it had been more of a pleasure than a service. Completing ignoring it, he hesitated before asking, "...will you come again?"

With that simple question, there was a silence. Kurt found himself waiting with a bated breath, hoping this would be a recurring theme. But the silence on the other man's end worried him.

"No. I won't be here again."

When the answer finally came, Kurt wished he had never asked the question in the first place. It would have been better just to hope rather than to have all hopes smashed. Why was he hoping that Dave would return in the first place, he chided himself. He was his former-bully, no matter if it was the best sex he had ever had. Why would he come back just to pay money for another fuck?

Kurt let out a soft 'oh' before the pair were cast back into silence. And that was how they laid for the next hour, completely silent, in a bed of soiled sheets. When Dave finally did leave, he merely dressed himself, offered a simple goodbye, and was out the door. One night, one fuck, hundreds of dollars, a lifetime alone.

Such was the life of courtesan.