by Sophie Pert
I don’t know what it was about her in particular, but there was something that just made me need to have her. I couldn’t help myself.
She looked to be about her early- to mid-twenties, had short hair that was roughly cut and looked fit, like she was used to using her body. LIke she had strength beneath it all.
Her eyes were dark and lively, they saw everything that was going on and never looked away, never shied away from a hard truth. She looked like she was the type of girl who was used to being in control.
I charmed her, and though at first she regarded me suspiciously she eventually found herself interested in me. Just like they all were.
On the surface there was nothing that should have connected us. After all I was in my late-50s and was strong and powerful and successful and rich. She was a poor woman in her early twenties who was angry with the world and living on the street.
We couldn’t be more different.
But as I did with all of them I found common ground for the two of us and used that to break down her barriers, to make her want me. To make her follow me like a lost little puppy.
And follow me she did, all the way up to my hotel room.
The look in her eyes when she saw the opulence of the room in front of her, from there it was easy to have her in my bed.
All it took was wrapping her up in my strong arms, letting her look deep into my eyes as I feigned interest in her, and then led her over to the bed.
Our clothes seemed to evaporate as our hands explored each other. I was absolutely right about her body.
She was strong and toned, every inch of her body corded muscle that flexed as she moved. She had a gracefulness to her, as if in another life she could have been a ballerina. But she wasn’t. No she was here with me.
Our lips connected as we tumbled between the sheets, hands reaching out to caress each other. I pinched the nipple of her pert breast. Squeezed her firm ass. She moaned and pressed her hands into my wide pecs and gasped as I entered her.
I fucked her hard. Thrusting into her again and again and filling her up. Making her moan and squirm beneath me as she clenched her eyes shut and reveled in the pleasure I was giving to her.
She fucked like an animal, her nails raking across my back and leaving red hot lines of pain in their wake. She nipped at my shoulder, biting hard enough to cause pain but not enough to break skin. Not enough to make me bleed.
Her body was tight and she squeezed herself around the thick shaft of my cock. Her legs wrapped themselves around my waist as she pulled me deeper and deeper inside of her with each thrust.
I felt my body tense and so did she and her eyes flung open, locking onto mine.
Her mouth was agape with a moan but her eyes were lively and focused. They were razor sharp and looking at me.
I could tell then and there that she was loving this just as much as I was. That she was used to using her body to take advantage of others in the same way that I was used to using my money and power.
She knew full well what I was doing to her, and there was a mutual understanding between the two of us.
We were both hunters, and we could respect each other.
So when our bodies came crashing together again and again it was with renewed vigor and intensity. She growled and ordered me, telling me to fuck her harder, faster. I complied and called her names, horrible dirty things that just caused her to smile that wicked smile of hers. That made her eyes flash with heat.
Her nipples were rock hard and they drew me in. I watched her body slick with a sheen of sweat as it flexed and writhed beneath me. She grabbed my chin and forced my sight away, back to her eyes. Making me watch her.
She climaxed on my, her loud screams crying out into the room, ripping out of her body. But her eyes kept their intense gaze, watching me with unblinking sight. She was a madwoman, overtaken by her need for satisfaction.
She squeezed tight around me, the walls of her sex squeezing me in great spasms. I felt my body tense under her ministrations, felt her squeeze me in great ripples. I struggled to hold on.
I succumbed to her, losing myself in her eyes and her body and with the last ounce of my willpower I pulled out from her and exploded, my cock shuddering as it spurted over her stomach and breasts.
I extricated myself from her, pulling away and standing beside the bed. She watched me the whole time, her eyes locked on me with an odd expression on her face.
Then she stood, her expression turning to hauty annoyance as she strode from the room and into the bathroom. I heard the shower start and took a deep breath.
It was unsettling, this whole encounter had left me struggling to process it. I had underestimated her and I didn’t like it.
Now you may be wondering why I told you this story. I have a reason.
Power is interesting and displays of it, though often unsubtle, are easy enough to accomplish.
In this case all it took was dressing while she was in the shower, leaving the room and heading down to reception. Once there I simply informed them there had been a break in, that someone was in my room.
Then I made my way over to the bar, ordered a drink, and chuckled while I watched as they dragged her kicking and screaming out of the hotel.
Power.
You either have it or you don’t, and much like in the wilderness if anyone challenges your authority they must be put in their place.
In her case I had relished the opportunity, there aren’t many women in her position who could sufficiently unsettle me. Who could make me question myself. But she had done just that.
I admired her for her spirit, but could not let that stand alone.
That had been a week ago, and now I was back at the same task. Prowling the streets, looking for fresh meat.
I wasn’t too far from the last place I found her, maybe half a block or so. I know it doesn’t seem too bright to return to such a place so soon after, but frankly it isn’t much of a concern. She has no power over me, after all what can an ant do to the king of the jungle?
So I was back, in my jungle, my streets, my territory.
She saw me from down the block and her eyes locked on. Those angry and entitled eyes.
I saw her move and it was far too fast and far too aggressive to be mistaken. She was after me.
Now I don’t shy away from a fight but I’m not an idiot. I know a grown man in his late fifties won’t come out the winner in this fight.
So I turned right around and got the hell out of there.
We were both moving fast, working against the current of people. I would glance back every once in awhile only to see her determined face staring at me through the crowd. She was smaller and far less concerned about propriety or upsetting people so she was making progress, gaining on me.
I saw an opportunity and took it. One of those temporary plywood walls they put up for construction was off to one side and the makeshift door was slightly ajar. I pushed through the crowd to get to it and stepped through at a fair clip.
I had already taken a few steps inside before I realized my mistake.
Dead end.
Turning quickly I saw the flash of the door opening and then closing again. She was between it and me and there was no mistake that she would fight like a cornered cat to keep me in here.
We sized each other up, neither one of us willing to make the first move, to concede an opening that would give the advantage to the other.
I decided to opt for disarming through charm and put a cocky smile on my face.
“Hi there,” I said, “Long time no see.”
She didn’t fall for it.
“So you like fucking with people,” she said, her voice cold and even and angry.
“Now is that how a lady talks?” I mocked her.
I saw her fists ball up and almost had to laugh. I knew if this came to a physical confrontation she would put up a fight and though I was loathe to hurt a woman I was fairly sure there was little permanent damage she could do to me. She
looked embarrassingly under equipped for this fight, and yet somehow completely unaware of how ridiculous she appeared.
Her eyes narrowed and she stepped forward and I saw her hands open, her fingers moving in a pattern that was complicated and difficult to follow. Her mouth moved too, her lips forming words that she muttered under her breath too quietly for me to make out.
There was a flash of light, so sudden it made me step back and trip. I fell on my ass and sprawled out on the ground as I blinked and tried to recover my vision.
I didn’t know what had happened or what she had done and I couldn’t make heads or tails of any direction except up and down. I just lay there on the ground, struggling to make any sense of what had just happened.
Had she set off an explosion? It was the only logical explanation.
And where was the follow up? Why wasn’t she attacking me, taking advantage of my temporary blindness to get in a few good hits before I could properly fight back.
Slowly my sight came back to me. Blinking against the light I was at first able to make out shapes and then gradually everything faded in.
I was alone, lying on the dirty ground alone in the alley.
I stood up, getting to my feet and looking in all directions to make sure she hadn’t snuck behind me or anything like that but no, I was truly alone.
And something felt very odd.
Something felt not right, not quite like it was before.
My body felt wrong, the way it stood, the way it moved. It felt like I was still applying the same conscious choice to my movements but my body was reacting differently. Lighter somehow. My clothes felt off as well, somehow feeling like they were not as refined, not as well fitted, not as clean.
I looked down.
They weren’t the same clothes. They were different clothes. Dirty clothes. Street clothes.
As my brain tried to register this, as I stood blinking in disbelief and tried to figure out whether the image I was seeing was just an illusion, my whole being was screaming out that it wasn’t just clothes.
I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not but I felt shorter. I felt slimmer. I felt smaller. I felt.
Where those breasts?
My hands, looking far too petite and delicate, reached out and tentatively touched my chest through my shirt.
Yes. Those were unmistakably breasts.
I turned and looked at the reflection of myself in one of the mirrors. The dark curtain on the other side blocked any light so I could clearly see myself and could clearly see that I was no longer myself.
I was a woman somehow.
She looked to be in her early twenties and was short and slim and pretty, absolutely my type especially with the shell shocked and vulnerable expression on her face. She had dark hair and bright eyes set into a tan face, the type of face that was open and honest and innocent and in past instances would have made me think that she was ripe for the picking.
Her brow was furrowed with concern and her plump lips were pursed and puckered. She looked for all the world like she was a panicked deer about ready to run.
Oh my god.
I touched my face and watched my reflection do the same.
“What the hell?” I asked, and heard her sweet and tiny voice echo in the empty alley.
I panicked. Not knowing what else to do I panicked and my body moved automatically. I rushed to the door of the alley and rushed out of it. Glancing from left to right I tried to catch any glimpse of that little witch who had done this to me, tried to find her so she could turn me back.
I ran in a random direction, one foot in front of the other as I weaved through a sea of people and tried to make my way towards something. I was moving without plan or purpose, compelled by fear to do something, anything to try to gain control over myself.
I made it about a block before everything I was running from caught up with me and I felt my breath catch in my throat as my fear overwhelmed me.
I slumped against the wall and started crying, right there in the middle of the street. I lost control. In all my years on this earth I had never once truly lost control but right there and then I was lost. I let my emotions overwhelm me and blocked out everything else.
He cut through.
“Hey there,” I heard a deep voice heavy with concern, “Is everything okay?”
When I turned to look at him I saw him first through heavy tears. His face was backlit by the sun and I blinked as I stared at him. He moved around so he was beside me and for the first time I saw him.
He was young, probably in his mid-20s at the most. He had broadly handsome features and looked like a clean cut college boy. Strong jaw, sandy blonde hair, deep dark eyes. He was clean cut but had the edge of stubble to him. Well dressed in a bespoke suit I could see from his clothes that he didn’t skimp, that he had money and knew how to spend it properly. Beneath those clothes though I could tell he was strong and powerful. He was the sort of man who was used to having strength, who had worked to attain it and knew how to use it to his advantage. But there was something beneath all of that which called to me, made me want to confide in him.
He looked for all the world like a friend, and right now I needed that more than ever.
“I just,” I said, choking back my tears, “I just lost someone that’s all.”
It was a half-truth, because at this moment he was looking at me with such open honesty that I didn’t want to lie to him. Didn’t know if I could.
“That’s all,” he said with a chuckle that seemed to melt away my fear and sadness. That made me really think that everything was going to be okay, “Well I’m sure you’ll find them again. I wouldn’t be too worried about that.”
Then he smiled at me, a broad and honest smile that made me smile back.
“Yeah,” I said, “I guess so. I was probably just overreacting.”
“Good, I’m glad to see you smile. You look very pretty when you smile.”
The complement took me off guard and for a moment I forgot who I was and where I was and what I currently looked like. In that brief instant I was really just a down on their luck girl who had just been complemented by a handsome man. In that instant all I could do was blush.
“You look hungry,” he said, “And forgive me if I’m being a bit blunt but you don’t look like you have a lot of cash to spare at the moment. Did you want to come get something to eat with me?”
I only had to pause for a moment because right as soon as he mentioned it I realized just how empty my stomach felt. How hungry I really was. It was odd, a gnawing sort of sensation that I didn’t really realize at first but just overwhelmed me all of a sudden. I really did want food.
So I nodded to him, to this trustworthy stranger. I nodded and simply said, “Sure.”
“Okay,” he said offered me his hand, “I just have to drop my briefcase off at my hotel room and then we can go. Come with me.”
I took his hand and he pulled me along.
We walked hand in hand through the crowd. Seeming to part it like a boat darting through running waters. He led me down familiar streets that had seemed breathlessly overwhelming mere moments ago but now that I was with him seemed muted somehow, as if the threats had all passed and we were still and calm on the other side.
These streets were familiar once more, but no longer were they my territory, no longer my jungle. Now they were streets that belonged to everyone and no one all at once. I wasn’t concerned about possessing them, about being in control of them. I relaxed and let myself drift with the flow.
“I’m Alex,” he said, looking back at me as we walked, “What’s your name.”
“Mia,” I replied without a moment's thought, it felt right. It felt like who I was in that moment.
We turned down a familiar street and stopped in front of a familiar hotel.
I treated myself well, always got a room at one of the very best hotels in town. But there were the best hotels and then there was the very best hotel. The very best is the one tha
t everyone knows but is somehow more exclusive. That you somehow feel you have to earn a spot in even though you might have the money. At least that was the way I had always thought of it.
I had always told myself that once my success in all matters was unquestionable, that was when I would book myself in here. And even though I had found immense success in most aspects of my life I still remained a perfectionist and so could not deny that there was room for growth.
So this particular hotel, the very best hotel, had always remained just out of my reach. I had always felt a need to hold off until I achieved just the next accomplishment.
Alex offered me the crook of his arm and walked in like he owned the place.
It was better than I could have imagined. The hotel was old and looked it. It had the sort of tasteful yet ornate decor that you just didn’t see anymore. The flooring was polished marble I would guess, with dark wooden accents laid into it. Those accents tied into the pillars that popped up here and there in the floor, building up and holding the balcony that ran the full perimeter of the room.
In the centre there was a massive wooden staircase which led up to a set of gleaming golden elevator doors, doors we strode towards with purpose.
The staff nodded tasteful acknowledgements towards Alex, nods which he gracefully returned. They didn’t look twice at me on his arm, affording me the same courteous gracefulness they gave to him.
I felt like royalty, like a demure queen walking with her handsome king. I won’t deny it gave me a unique sort of thrill.
We made our way up the stairs, the plush carpet so rich I could almost feel it even through the soles of my shoes, and the elevators seemed to open to greet us as we reached the top of the landing. We stepped into the space and I had one last glance of the tasteful opulence before the golden doors of the elevator closed and I was once more alone with Alex.
I was shy almost, for some reason unable to bring myself to make eye contact with him. To see him. For his part he stared straight ahead as well but I could tell he was forcing himself to do it. He wasn’t standing with calm ease.
Alex was so unlike anyone I had ever met before in his station. Judging from his clothing, his stance, the way he commanded attention he was obviously a man of power and station. And yet he somehow kept that power and attention quietly understated. He made it so that he was not the outrageous focal point. He was the quiet power behind the throne.