by Marni Mann
My moan vibrated across his shaft.
“Fuck this,” he said as he pulled back until his dick popped out of my mouth. “I want your ass.”
Now, those were words I really loved.
As I stood, I dropped my pants and placed my hands flat on the wall.
He moved behind me and said, “Spread your legs.”
The waistband of my pants didn’t allow me to move any further apart, so I took a foot out and widened my stance.
“You done this before?”
I knew what he wanted to hear. “No.”
“Good. It should be nice and tight then.”
He cleared his throat and spit, and I assumed it went to his hand, so he could wipe it over his cock. But then I heard him spit again, and a glob landed on my hole. That motherfucker had some incredible aim.
I glanced over my shoulder to see what was taking so long.
He was stroking away while he looked at my ass. When our eyes finally met, he said, “Do you want me to tell you this isn’t going to hurt?”
We were about the same height, so it didn’t take much maneuvering for his cock to line up with me.
“Nah,” I said, “I want you to hurt me.”
Before I even had a chance to swallow, he jammed his entire dick into me, and I lost my breath. He felt bigger than he had in my mouth. I knew that was impossible; this hole was just tighter. He reared back to his tip and punched forward, his balls slapping against my taint, and then he did it again.
“Harder,” I begged.
It didn’t hurt enough.
It didn’t give me the satisfaction I wanted, and I knew it wouldn’t give me the release I needed.
The only thing that could do that was blood.
“Give me your knife,” I said. “I know you have one in your pocket.”
“What do you want it for?” He didn’t even slow down as he asked.
“I want to cut myself.”
“What?”
Steadying myself with the bottoms of my feet, I lifted my sleeve to show him the top of my shoulder where I’d made the small gashes. “Now, give it to me.”
“You want to cut yourself”—he took a breath—“while I’m in your fucking—”
“Give it to me!” I shouted.
When he finally slapped the knife in my hand, I brought it up to my mouth and held the plastic casing between my teeth while I slid the metal out. Once the blade was fully extended, I held the sharpest point against my biceps and dragged it over my skin. Blood bubbled through the cut and began to drip down my arm and slowly onto the ground.
Fuck, that’s a beautiful sight.
A small pool started to form, and I stared at it, concentrating on the redness while he was inside my ass. I waited for it—for the numbness to start to disintegrate, for the release to move its way through my body.
It wasn’t even close.
Because my blood wasn’t enough.
I needed more.
I took the guard’s hand off my hip and brought it around to the front of me, and I slashed across his palm.
He yanked his hand away and yelled, “Are you fucking stupid?” But his cock didn’t go anywhere; it stayed buried, and his hips continued to move in a fast circle.
“It’s just a cut,” I told him.
“Do you know who the fuck I am? And what I can do to you?”
He was inside my ass. Raw. I had the right to do whatever the hell I wanted.
And I had no intention of stopping.
I reached behind me and grabbed the same hand as before. I rubbed it over mine, so I could get all the blood that was seeping out. Hot stickiness coated my skin, and that was when I knew I’d gotten enough.
I let him go and immediately painted it over my cock.
“You’re a sick motherfucker, you know that?”
I wasn’t sick.
I just had a love for blood.
Now, as I stared at the small puddle on the tiles and at the redness on my dick, I felt something.
And it felt so fucking good.
I wrapped my hand around my dick, and I began to pump.
He was hitting a spot in my ass that I could feel all the way in my stomach, and it was making my balls tighten. It was also making it hard for me to breathe. I tightened my grip and squeezed toward the tip, like I was wringing out my fucking laundry in the sink.
He didn’t tell me he was close to coming. I could just tell by the way he grunted, how his speed picked up, when his nails started digging into my goddamn hips.
I was even louder.
I jerked my hand faster.
I stabbed the wall with my free hand and felt the tips of my short nails starting to bend and break.
Jesus, I was close, too.
When I felt him churning out his orgasm, hissing something unintelligible, I pointed my tip toward the pool, and I prepared to shoot.
There it was.
My release.
Suddenly, every nerve ending was open, and my body was making up for all the years it hadn’t been able to feel.
I could barely keep myself standing, but I had enough energy to steady my aim, and I dropped four streams of cum. They covered the whole width of the blood.
I hadn’t felt this good since I was in my own prison.
The morning before my entire life had changed.
“Get dressed,” the guard barked from behind me. He pulled his cock out, and there was a rustling from his belt and zipper and the noise of the last drips of water as he turned the shower off.
I slipped my leg back inside my pants and lifted them to my waist, and then I turned around.
He was checking out his hand, eventually looking at me with a glare in his eyes. “I should send you to the fucking hole for this and make your life even more miserable than it already is.”
“Who would suck your dick then?”
His teeth clenched. “You think you’re the only inmate in here who sucks my dick?”
I shrugged. “No, but I know I’m the best at it.”
He said nothing, and I knew I’d won.
Huck
“You still haven’t told me what you want me to do for food.”
I heard Arin’s voice in my head as I buttoned my shirt and slid my feet into a pair of boots. I didn’t mess with the laces. I left them untied, the boots loose on my ankles, and I tucked the hem of my jeans into them. My wallet went into my back pocket, and I headed down the hall to her room.
It was time to answer her question.
As I was about to knock on her door, the one to the guest bathroom opened, and she walked out, wearing only a towel.
“Huck, hi. I…”
Drops of water from her hair traveled slowly down her chest. I wondered what they’d taste like if I licked them off her skin. If my tongue would make her moan or if she’d be terrified of it.
“Get dressed,” I told her. “I’ll wait for you out here.”
She went into her room and said, “I’ll be quick,” before she closed the door.
Lawan had gotten her to eat some bread this morning and two boiled eggs. That was progress. But she was still too fucking thin. At least the bruises were lightening, and the cuts were completely scabbed. Another week, and I had a feeling she’d almost be back to normal.
I was tempted to take out my phone and load the live feed from her room, so I could watch the towel drop from her body. Imagining that maybe, as she was slipping her panties on, she’d take a quick glance at the snake on her wall. And maybe her pussy would dampen again at the thought of her touching it.
My dick would get so hard over that.
Fuck.
I hadn’t been able to get that image out of my mind or the expression on her face while she’d stared at my snake pit. I didn’t even need to pull up the cameras in her room to recall the details of her body. I saw every curve, every goddamn freckle whenever I closed my eyes. It was that body I thought of when I’d beaten off in the shower after I left her room last nigh
t and again this morning.
There were women I could have called who would have sucked the cum right out of me and swallowed every drop. But they all expected more—breakfast in the morning, a call at the end of the day, dinners out on the weekends. None of them could handle my job, and I wasn’t in a place where I wanted to deal with their jealousy.
For now, my hand, some soap, and hot water would work just fine.
“I’m ready,” Arin said as she came through the doorway.
She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a black tank top. Her red bra straps weren’t hidden and curved over her shoulders. I wondered if she had on matching panties. It was a good color on her. Sexy. A texture that appeared as soft as her skin.
My cock was already starting to get hard.
I had to get my mind off it, so I glanced inside her room. She’d hung her towel over the top of her closet door. Her bed was made, pajamas folded. She’d even opened the window blinds.
She was neat, cleaner than any of the other girls I’d purchased. And she respected my place and the things I let her use.
I liked that about her.
I led her to the stairway, and as she paused on the first step, I said, “Think you can handle it?” When she didn’t immediately respond, my hands went to her waist. “Or I can carry you.”
She sucked in a breath, and her body tightened. I was sure her response had something to do with the nervousness of going down the stairs. I also knew it was partly due to my hands and how close my body was to hers.
“Arin.”
She turned halfway around, her limbs still stiff, but her breathing extra deep.
“You can do this. I won’t let go of you.”
She looked down at my fingers and said nothing.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
She gradually glanced up, her eyes going straight to my mouth, her pupils dilating. Something about my lips was making her hot. I wondered if she was thinking about how they would feel if they were kissing her entire body.
With her stare still on me, I took the opportunity to lean down, positioning my mouth right by her ear. “Do you want me to stop touching you?”
Jesus, she smelled so fucking good. Not like the girls downstairs when they walked past me, and I could almost taste their perfume. Arin’s scent was subtle. Honey and lavender. I liked that about her, too. Maybe far more than I should.
“You scare me.”
I pulled back, so I could look at her eyes. “Why? I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you.”
Her gaze moved all around my face, as though she were taking me in. “Because, if you keep on touching me, I know, within a minute, my clothes will be ripped off and thrown all over the floor of this hallway.”
“Arin—”
“And I won’t want to tell you to stop.”
I wouldn’t get her naked unless I knew it was what she wanted. But then all she would have to do was give me a single-worded command, and her clothes would be on that floor. Shredded.
“Say something, Huck.”
As I looked down her body, it was covered in goose bumps. From her neck to her shoulders and all the way to her hands.
My cock was rubbing against the zipper of my jeans, willing the goddamn thing to open.
Being so close to her wasn’t safe, and it probably wasn’t all that smart.
“Walk the stairs,” I ordered.
I felt her steady herself, and I loosened my grip when I knew she could stand on her own. As I tried to move completely away, she squeezed my thumb.
“Stay. I’m going to need you.”
I could feel the pain in her body as she took her first step. It was on her face and in the sound of her breath, too. It only got worse when she went for the second step. By the third, I wanted to pull her into my arms and carry her the rest of the way.
Her palm was sweating. Her fingers were shaking.
“You’re doing good,” I said on the sixth step.
She’d already made it further than I’d expected.
“I feel like a child learning to walk again, all weak and awkward and helpless.”
“Your body just went through some major trauma. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
She was fighting back tears. “Huck, I used to run ten miles a day. Now, I can’t even go down a few stairs without worrying that I’m going to lose control and fall down them.”
I held her hand tighter. “You won’t. I’m right here. In a week, you’ll be running again, trust me.”
She shook her head, and the tears began to drop. “Do you know how hard it is for me to ask for help? I’ve done everything on my own my whole life. I can’t do this small thing, and it kills me.”
I wasn’t surprised she felt that way. Or to hear her say it. With no one to call at home, I assumed she was independent, certainly not the type to ask for anything unless she really needed it.
But, while she was here, she had me. I wouldn’t kick her out unless she gave me a reason to. Still, that didn’t mean I wanted her to stay forever. That would just be dangerous.
Even though her kind of danger was sexy as fuck.
“It’ll get easier every day,” I told her. “You’re already so much stronger than when you first got here.”
“But how do you know that?”
She released my hand and gripped her fingers around the banister. When she tried to take another step, she lost her footing, and I caught her in my arms. Our faces were even closer now.
“How do you know I’m going to heal and that it won’t feel like this forever?”
With an arm still around her, I cupped her cheek, so she couldn’t turn away, and I wiped the wetness off it. “Because I’ve seen girls go through the same thing. Most of them were in worse shape than you. One had a leg that was so damaged, we thought it would have to be amputated. Another couldn’t sit from all the things those men had shoved up her pussy.” I gritted my teeth together, breathing through the anger. “I’ve seen it all, Arin. And almost all of them healed. You will, too.”
The tightness in her body seemed to soften a little.
“Did they stay in the same room as me?”
“No.”
Those girls were different. They’d been purchased, and Arin hadn’t. I’d put them on the second floor of my building, not inside my apartment. The room I’d built for them was designed to help them heal. But, once I’d retired from the game, that room had been cleared out, and now, the brothel used it. That was the reason Arin was upstairs with me.
“Why not?” she asked. “What happened to them?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does because I want to know more about you. You’ve said you won’t hurt me, but how can I be sure of that? How do I know that you’re not going to come in while I’m sleeping and give me the same stuff those bastards in Mumbai shot me up with? There are moments when I think I can really trust you and moments like right now…” She stopped, and so had her tears. “Moments when I don’t know if I can even trust myself.”
She shouldn’t trust me. Not a man who wanted to stick his cock in every hole in her body. Who watched her through a camera while she got herself off, who was fueled by the sound of her moans. Who drained his cum while thinking about how good it would feel to be shooting it inside her.
But I’d never give her drugs. I’d never take advantage of her. I’d sure as fuck never rape her.
I’d also never tell her about any of the other girls.
Talking about them meant I’d have to discuss Jack.
And I couldn’t.
My fists balled as the knife started to grind into the back of my throat. The tip was so fucking sharp that it tried to stop me from taking a deep breath. The blade didn’t just poke its way in; it moved in a circle, grinding through muscle, causing the most amount of pain.
“Huck?”
Having her here only made the knife stab even worse because it made me think about him more than usual. Anger, resentment, guilt
pulsed through me.
I had to get it out before I exploded.
“Stay here,” I told her. “I’m going to have Lawan come help you.”
As I turned and went up a stair, Arin’s hand gripped the bottom of my shirt, and she tugged to the point where I heard a rip. “Don’t leave.”
That made the knife jab in even harder.
“Let go of me,” I said.
“Why do you always do that?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Do what?” The anger was bubbling through, and I felt my teeth clench and my lip curl.
“Go all silent on me and drift inside your thoughts. Where does your head go?”
She pushed her back into the banister and faced me, her other hand now reaching for mine. I didn’t stop her. I had no fucking idea why. But her grip was so light, I barely felt it.
“Talk to me.”
If I wasn’t so angry, I would have laughed.
She wanted me to open up, to tell her the things I saw, the things Jack and I had done—a guy who meant more to me than anyone else in this world.
Fuck that.
“Let go of me, Arin—”
“Do you want to know how I recognize it? The look that comes over you whenever you get completely lost in your own head? Your thoughts so thick and murky that you’re not sure you can find your way out of the darkness?”
She squeezed harder, and I still didn’t feel it.
“I know because the same thing happens to me. I know that place all-too well. I know what it feels like. I visited it long before I ever stepped foot in Mumbai.”
She placed my hand on top of hers. I watched her stare at the tattoo on the back of my palm. I watched her bite her lip. I watched her eyes finally connect with mine again.
“Tell me about your place, Huck, and I’ll tell you about mine.”
More questions.
More words demanded from me. That was what she always wanted. Other girls asked for food, and they wanted me to help them detox and protect them, so they wouldn’t ever get trafficked again. Not Arin.
But I had no words to give her. I didn’t trust many people, and I wasn’t the type to bare my soul. I had far too many secrets for that.