Darke [Part 1]

by Saber Vale

  He caught me as I was getting coffee, wearing a robe, between takes.

  “You’re looking great,” he said, “and the buzz on this movie is getting hot.”

  “Thanks,” I said, not looking at him.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been busy, but I’ve been trying to work out getting this movie into festivals, I think it’s going to play really well.”

  “Great,” I said, “I wasn’t worried about it.”

  “Ok,” he said with a laugh.

  He stepped closer to me and slipped a hand into my robe, grabbing my breast, sliding his thumb over my nipple. It sent a shudder through my body and I looked around, worried that someone was watching.

  If anyone was, they were being discreet. Keller’s hand roamed, over my other breast, my belly, like he wanted to slip fingers inside of me, but was holding himself back.

  “I want you right now,” he said, his voice a growl.

  “There are probably people in my dressing room,” I said, “my makeup artist.”

  “I don’t care,” Keller said, leading the way.

  Sure enough, there was a girl, my usual makeup artist, covered in tattoos and piercings, tidying up the vanity in my dressing room. Keller looked at her when he walked in and she smirked at him, like maybe they knew each other. She kept tidying up, even as Keller shut the door behind us and tore off my robe, tossing it to the floor.

  Keller turned me over onto the couch so that I was laying against it on my belly with my ass and hips lifted up. He pulled down the little flesh colored panties I was wearing and, as the makeup girl looked on, stuffed them into my open mouth.

  “This will keep you nice and quiet,” he said, making sure they were stuffed in completely while his other hand probed my pussy, slipping fingers in and out of me quickly.

  He spanked me a few times, nice and rough, while the makeup artist watched, stopping her work to lean against the vanity and observe, biting her lip, obviously turned on by what she was seeing. Keller seemed to enjoy the fact that she was watching.

  His hand landed in firm, steady, painful blows against my ass, and I made muffled cries in pain as the makeup girl smiled and looked on. Keller undressed quickly, and as I turned to look at him over my shoulder I ached at the sight of his beautiful body, which I desperately missed.

  I whimpered, my ass hot and red, as Keller stroked his huge, thick cock and pressed it inside of me, filling me up, finally giving me what I really wanted. He fucked me slowly, an inch at a time sinking into me, his breath steady and measured like he was savoring me, like he knew he was at the edge of losing control.

  Keller turned me over onto my back and opened my legs, stroking my clit as he entered me again. To my surprise, the makeup girl make over and knelt beside me on the couch, kissing me first and then playing with my tits, sucking on my nipples one by one. I couldn’t believe what was happening, but I was too turned on to think straight, and before long, with Keller stroking and fucking me and the girl playing with and sucking my tits, I was having a powerful, saturating orgasm, coming so hard that I nearly passed out.

  Keller groaned and filled me. I sighed and looked up at him, the look on his face of complete release. He pulled out of me slowly, taking the panties out of my mouth, and I felt a pearl of his cum drip out of me. To my complete shock, Keller laced his fingers through the makeup girl’s hair and moved her head so that her mouth was against my pussy. She licked me, lapping up the cum, obediently, like she was Keller’s willing servant. He held her there, licking me, until I came again, her tongue swirling against my already swollen clit. I shuddered and sighed, another sweet wave of pleasure washing over me.

  After, the makeup girl dressed quickly and left.

  “That was… crazy,” I said, a little bit shaken.

  “You didn’t like it?” Keller said.

  “I don’t know,” I said, looking at him as he got dressed, not paying very much attention to me.

  “I have to go,” he said finally, “but I’ll see you later.”

  “Seriously?” I asked.

  I wanted him to hold me. I thought we’d go out.

  “Sorry, did you think we had plans,” he said coolly.

  “Well,” I said stiffly, pulling on my robe “see you later I guess.”

  “Yeah,” Keller said, nodding at me without emotion, “see you later.”

  He left me alone, feeling like I was drawing in confusion.

  Darke

  I couldn’t stop thinking about how she looked when she came, how eager she’d been, how completely willing. What if, I asked myself, there was a part of her that was as craven as I was? Could you like filthy, raunchy threesomes and still be a sweet girl from Indiana? She wasn’t jaded yet, wasn’t broken, but the more I fucked her, the more she seemed to want it. Worse, the more I seemed to want it. I thought I would grow tired of her quickly, but instead my need for her seemed to grow by the day.

  Every time I left her, she seemed disappointed, and I hated it. Every time she looked at me, I wished somehow I was different, but I wasn’t sure how.

  I wasn’t sorry for bringing in the other girl, the makeup artist. It was fun, and the kind of thing I liked to do. A part of me thought Selma would hate it, would be shocked, but she wasn’t. She seemed game for anything, in spite of her innocence and inexperience. She didn’t say that she wanted more, like she knew she couldn’t.

  I wondered for a moment if she would be happy, like I initially thought, if she went home to Indiana or if I’d been wrong about her. Maybe she really could handle Hollywood. Maybe she was tougher than she looked.

  My life had become strange since she’d become a part of it. No more random sex with beautiful, strange girls. I worked, I ran, I swam laps sometimes, something I’d always wanted to do but never got around to. I waited to see Selma again. I pretended like I wasn’t waiting. I left her before I was really ready, cutting out encounters short even when I wanted them to linger.

  Most of all, I tormented myself.

  I remembered losing my mother, who had been bright and vibrant when I was young, but who turned into a drunk, sloppy shell of herself as the demands of an international debutante caught up with her. She’d grown up in South Africa on a cattle ranch, and hadn’t worn a dress or even known she was a millionaire until she went to Johannesburg for her debut at seventeen. She’d met my father there, and the rest was history. Innocence destroyed. A life of fabulous parties and travel, infidelity, alcohol and loneliness. I hardly knew her, really. I only knew how terrible it felt to be taken from her when my dad sent me to boarding school at six. I never saw her sober again.

  I hadn’t thought about her in years and years, and suddenly I couldn’t stop. I thought about how much I had done to protect myself from such terrible pain, and how it felt like Selma knew how to reach into my heart with a knife and twist. Her innocent looks. Her disappointment. He smiles. Her naivety.

  It all left me feeling like the scaffolding I’d built beneath myself was weak and fractured. I knew I couldn’t let it break.

  Chapter 6

  I got my first big paycheck, fifteen thousand dollars, and sent most of it back to my parents, who cried when they opened the envelope.

  “You don’t have to do this, sweetheart,” my dad said, and I shifted uncomfortably with my cell phone to my ear, glancing around the dark, ugly apartment I could hardly afford. He had no idea what I was really doing, who I even really was. I felt so distant.

  “Please don’t worry about it, there’s more where that came from,” I insisted, looking around my studio, at my meager wardrobe, my shabby shoes. I would have to wait to get a better place, better clothes.

  When I hung up on them, I cried. I was fucking a stranger, I was probably never going to be cast in another movie without his help. I didn’t have a single friend in L.A.. I had weeks to wait before my next paycheck. I felt crushed by pressure.

  Keller called me later that day and asked me to come over to his place.

  “Ok…” I
said, hesitating.

  “Are you unsure?” he said, the slightest hint of worry in his voice.

  “Of course, yes,” I sighed, “I just don’t know what I’m doing.

  “Are you not enjoying yourself?” he asked gently.

  “I… I am…” I said honestly, “I just don’t know who I am anymore.”

  “You’re the same person you always were,” he said, “finding out more about yourself doesn’t always mean you’re changing, it sometimes means you weren’t who you thought you were to begin with.”

  I sighed.

  “When should I meet you,” I asked him, feeling a tightness in my chest.

  “I have a late meeting, so I’ll send a car after eight, but we can have dinner if you can wait that long,” he said.

  “Sounds… good,” I breathed.

  I knew I’d feel better when I saw him again. I craved his touch, I craved his attention, I craved the pain and humiliation he provided me, even when it made me hate myself. I could deal with the misery later.

  The car he ordered me brought me to a Wolfgang Puck restaurant with amazing views and deep, private booths. I was lead to an empty table, and the hostess told me to wait. I waited and waited, ordering a glass of white wine. I was antsy and feeling the deep anticipation I always felt when I knew I would be seeing Keller.

  He arrived late and apologized briefly as he sank into the booth behind me, glancing at his phone before stuffing it into his pocket..

  “I’m glad to see you,” he said, turning to me.

  He looked completely sincere.

  “I’m glad to see you too,” I admitted.

  “I’ve seen you wear this dress before,” he said, putting a hand on my thigh, “I figured you’d go shopping with your first check.”

  “That money’s already gone,” I said with a laugh.

  “Where to,” he said, as though in disbelief, “I thought that was a lot of money for you.”

  “My parents,” I said, “my dad is small farmer in Indiana, and the farm is behind on some loan payments because he fell off of a ladder last year.”

  Why, I wondered, was I telling him this? I shrugged and laughed and tried to play it off like it was no big deal.

  “So,” I said with a sigh, “I sent him the money, and I hope they catch up so they can at least sell the farm instead of having it taken away. I don’t know. I don’t know. Why am I even telling you this?”

  Keller looked at me with a set jaw, his eyes intense, almost sizzling, like he was mad.

  “I wish I had known that about you,” he said, as a waitress dropped off an amber cocktail with an orange twist.

  “It’s not something I like talking about,” I said, shrugging, “it’s embarrassing.”

  We ordered dinner, and Keller seemed distant, slightly frustrated. I wished so much that I hadn’t told him about my family.

  He probably thought I was pathetic, desperate.

  We ate dinner, a petite sirloin for Keller, a beautiful tuna tartare for me, and then I walked with him to his car, pulled up to the curb by a valet. He was mostly quiet as we snaked through the Hollywood Hills back to his house.

  Back in the hills, we walked wordlessly together into his house, where he tossed his keys into a jade bowl by the front door and took off his jacket. I followed him upstairs. He loosened his tie as I walked in behind him and then he turned to me, his eyes shining.

  “Do you sleep with me because you want to, or for the job? For the opportunity? Would you be doing this if it wasn’t for the money that you need? Because of who I am?”

  “Does it matter?” I asked.

  “Yes, it does.”

  I was surprised by his insistence.

  “Keller,” I breathed, shutting my eyes, “I don’t know if I would have done what I did, at first, or been as desperate if it wasn’t for my family.”

  “How have things changed?”

  “I…” my heart raced, “I really like sleeping with you, I really like it when you hurt me, even when I’m humiliated I… I want more.”

  It was true, even though I hated myself for it.

  Keller stepped closer to me, one, two, three steps. He grabbed me and pulled me suddenly close to him, into his arms, and kissed me hard, his warm lips against mine. I opened my mouth to let him in and felt myself melt a little bit as his hands roamed, strong and powerful, pulling my body closer, holding me tighter. He unzipped my dress and pulled it down over my breasts, kneeling slightly to suck on my nipples hungrily, one at a time. I shuddered and sighed, felt my dress fall to the floor at my feet, and then felt Keller’s hardness press against me as though begging for my touch. I reached for his belt buckled, both of my hands trembling slightly as I tore off his belt and unzipped his pants. I freed the thick, gorgeous cock and stroked it gently, the weight of it so satisfying in my hand.

  “I want your ass,” he said, “I want to have every part of you.”

  I looked up into his eyes and bit my lip, fearful.

  “Does that make you nervous?” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear and then kissing me along my neck.

  “Yes,” I breathed, leaning into him and stroking his cock, taking note of how very large it was.

  He lead me to the bed and set me down, pushing me back and spreading my legs so that he could kneel between them, his hands on my thighs.

  “You taste perfect,” he whispered, his voice a growl, as he began to lick me, sliding two fingers inside of me. I felt incredible, and felt myself trembling, my hips rocking and my back arching off of the bed. Keller’s strong hands held me down, keeping me still while he kept his mouth pressed against me. Pleasure pulsed through me, warming my belly, making my legs shake, Keller pleasuring me, controlling me, manipulating my body the way a master musician does his instrument.

  “I’m going to come,” I whined, my voice weak and breathy.

  “No, I’m not going to let you,” he said quietly, and suddenly stopped, making me ache.

  He rolled me, my body supine and supple for him, onto my stomach.

  He then reached quickly below his bed to produce something, pressing it between my legs. He set it buzzing, and I realized it was a vibrator.

  “Oh my god,” I murmured as a new kind of pleasure made me tremble.

  He turned it off just as quickly.

  “Oh, please,” I begged, “please don’t stop.

  I heard him get something else and then felt some warm liquid, lubricant, that he slid across my ass, all over. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw him stroking his thick, veiny cock. It seemed to pulse with anticipation.

  “Breathe, baby,” he said quietly, pressing the head of his thickness against me “you have to be totally relaxed.”

  I tried to.

  “If you’re relaxed, it won’t hurt,” he said, kissing me on the neck and pushing just a little bit, very slowly.

  “I’m trying,” I whimpered, as an inch of him, then two, entered me, opening me up, “oh my god.”

  “Shh,” he said, “this will help.”

  He turned on the vibrator again, making my whole body relax. I bit my lip and looked at him with pleading eyes, begging him not to hurt me without saying a word. He held me by the hips and closed his eyes, thrusting into me, inside of me, impaling me.

  First, it hurt. It hurt a lot. Slowly though, as the vibrator did its work, I did feel more relaxed, like my body was opening up, letting him in. The pain and the pleasure combined to create a new intensity, unlike anything I’d ever felt.

  “Is that good, baby,” Keller whispered, leaning down to kiss me, our bodies pressed together with a kind of intimacy that is created by intensity. I craved the deep closeness, and knew I was shaking all over, so close to coming. In and out of me, his shaft slid easily, filling me, opening.

  “I’m going to come inside of you,” Keller growled, his teeth against my neck.

  “Oh my god,” was all I could muster. I came hard, whimpering against the bed, his thick cock thrusting in and out
of me with abandon.

  Keller filled me up, made me ache with both pain and pleasure, breathed hard against my neck. We collapsed into the bed, Keller rolling beside me, pulling me towards him, kissing me on the mouth.

  “Are you ok?” he asked, looking me in the eyes.

  I nodded, putting my face against his neck, running my hands over his broad, muscular chest.

  “I’m fine,” I whispered.

  “Let’s go shower,” he said kissing me again, taking my hand.

  Keller’s shower was huge and beautiful, tiled with jade, with an enormous waterfall showerhead, soothing and wonderful. As we showered Keller gently washed me, kissed me, stroked my hair, and for a moment I didn’t feel like his personal sex toy, a whore he kept coming back to. I felt like his girlfriend… like someone he loved. I tried to push such thoughts from my mind and enjoy the moment, but I knew that my feelings were growing, that I wanted more from him and I was never going to get it.

  After the shower Keller literally wrapped me in a huge, fluffy towel, wrapped himself in one as well.

  “I’d love to stay the night,” I whispered into his ear, my lips touching his warm skin.

  Keller sighed.

  “You know I can’t let you do that,” he sighed.

  I groaned.

  “Who cares about your stupid rules?” I said, “I think you want me to stay.”

  “I’ll call your car now,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry, Selma.”

  I was, in spite of everything I’d told myself, devastated.

  And then, on the ride home, something weird happened. First, I got a text from Keller, which read only “Unit 2, key code 36451.” Then, instead of driving me to my shitty apartment, the Uber drove into Beverly Hills, and then parked in front of stately condo off of Santa Monica Boulevard.