The Seller: A Dark Romance

by Renard, Loki

  “How did you start selling people?” I’ve been wondering that for a while, but never had the chance to ask.

  “My mother was a prostitute. I grew up watching her sell herself.”

  I almost choke on my waffle. “God. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. She lives in a ten million dollar mansion now,” he says. “She did what she had to in order to live the life she wanted to live. Just like you. You remind me of her.”

  I don’t know if I should be offended he’s comparing me to a prostitute, or proud he’s comparing me to his mother. I think I might be both.

  “The first woman I sold was when I was twenty. She needed money. I arranged for her to spend a night with a friend. He fucked her all night long, and at the end of it, she was several hundred dollars richer, and so was I.”

  “That’s an expensive night.”

  “She was an expensive girl,” Stavros smirks. “Not that she knew it, until then. She asked me to keep looking after her…”

  “You mean you were a pimp.”

  He nods and shrugs. “It paid for college. And then, one day, a few months in, someone asked how much it would be to keep her. She got paid a million dollars. I took a twenty percent cut. And the seller was born.”

  He makes it sound almost wholesome.

  “But that’s different from what you did to the others. The drugging. The caging.”

  His eyes darken a shade, and for a second, I wonder if I might push him too far by pointing out the darkness he seems inclined to ignore.

  “It’s better for me to cage train a girl than it is for her to find herself with a new owner who likes to confine his toys.”

  “Present tense.”

  “What?” He cocks his head to the side.

  “You said you were done, but you’re talking present tense. Like you plan to take someone else and do it to them.”

  “I have no intention of that, Siri.”

  “But what if you can’t help it? What if you miss stripping someone naked and putting them in a cage and then fucking them…”

  “Then I have you,” he smiles, wolfish.

  “But I have a choice now.”

  “You had a choice then. You made that cage happen. I’m sure you would again.”

  “I didn’t choose that!”

  “Of course you did,” he drawls. “You put yourself in the entire situation. Everything I did to you was something you knew could happen once you put yourself in my path.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Mhm.”

  “You’re still a sick fuck, Stavros.”

  “Nobody is perfect, and watch your manners.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I’ll teach you a lesson.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mhm. Let’s put it this way. Disobedience is consent, as far as I’m concerned. If I tell you that a certain behavior is going to get you punished, and you choose that behavior, then I’m taking that as a request.”

  “So if I tell you to go fuck yourself…”

  “You’ll be very sore and very sorry.”

  Oh fuck, I hope so.

  I can’t help but smile as I say the words loudly, slowly, and oh so defiantly. “Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

  “Oh Siri,” he smirks. “You are in trouble now.”

  “Am I? Don’t forget. You’re a hero now. You don’t sell people anymore.”

  “I don’t need to sell you to use you,” he growls. His words are rough and dirty, but fuck do they hit the right spot. Maybe he is right more than I want to admit. I chose the one way to escape my father’s plans which would put me in his path. I knew what he did. I knew what to expect. I was prepared to let him do it, and when I found myself in his grasp, I didn’t make it easy on myself. I defied him. I pushed him.

  I’m going to make him break my walls down with the sexual equivalent of a sledgehammer, because I am so fucking desperate to be free of the cage I have been in all my life, unable to give myself to anyone, unable to truly trust. I want to trust him, even if I can’t yet.

  I give him a look. A raised brow, head cocked, smirking, well, do it then, look.

  And he does.

  Waffles fly as he comes around to me, sweeps me up into his arms, my feet leaving the floor as he tosses me onto the bed and follows, powerful and masculine on all fours above me, holding me down and stripping the last remnants of Corelli from me, the slip of my wedding dress torn from my body with one rough tug of his hand, turning fine silk into instant scraps on the hotel room floor.

  I am bared to him, my breasts and stomach and thighs and everything all being devoured by his gaze. The last time we were together, I tried to take control, but I was never in control. He was letting me play at it, but he’s not playing anymore.

  He yanks his shirt off, bares himself to his waist, shares himself with me. His body is a reflection of his character. Hard, unyielding, and dynamic, his hips undulate down to pin mine, his large hands sliding up my arms to hold my hands above my head.

  “You are mine,” he murmurs. “You’ll always be mine. The one girl I couldn’t sell.”

  “Because I sold myself.”

  “You bought yourself too, didn’t you brat. That was all your money. From the beginning.”

  I saved for years to have enough money to make my escape plan work. I didn’t always know what I was going to do, but I knew it was going to take cash, and lots of it. By the time my father told me I was going to have to come home for the wedding, I had five million dollars saved. That was enough to bribe someone to find me the best trafficker in Europe, and to get on his radar, then to pay him, and set myself up in Norway. It was the perfect plan - except for the part where my father found me anyway.

  Where I failed, Stavros did not. Now we’re here, in each other’s arms, not truly knowing one another or how to be in this world which is unfolding before us.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I breathe the question.

  “Everything I would have done if I hadn’t lost you.” He runs his hand down between my thighs and cups my pussy. “To start with, I’m shaving this.”

  “Wha…”

  He pushes off the bed. “Stay there.”

  I lie naked and passive as he strides to the bathroom and returns with a razor and shaving cream. I’ve never shaved down there with the exception of tidying up my bikini line. I’ve never felt the urge to display that tender part of myself, but if he wants to do it, I won’t stop him.

  “Spread your legs.” He pushes them apart, making it easy to obey, and hard to refuse. I look up at him as he crouches above me and begins applying cream to the soft curling hair between my legs.

  “I always wanted to do this,” he murmurs. “I wanted to see you without any protection, nothing to hide behind. You were always hidden, Siri. Even when you were right in front of me.”

  His fingers feel correct between my legs, massaging that cream into my lips, making it easier for the sharp razor to slide across soft skin, taking the hair which has hidden my sex from the world in smooth strokes.

  “It feels good, doesn’t it,” he comments, rubbing his finger lightly over the spot where he has cleared the hair to reveal the skin, which is softer than even I realized. I make a muffled little sound as more comes off, Stavros making long strokes with the razor until my lips and mound are entirely bare.

  It is like feeling my pussy for the first time, every air current in the room seems to have an effect with my legs spread wide and lewd, exposed to the man who is claiming me all over again.

  He moves between my legs and lowers himself, the muscles of his shoulders rippling as his mouth meets my cunt, his tongue slicking along the length of my slit and then curling to dip inside me. I never knew he was capable of giving this kind of elegant, talented pleasure. My interactions with him were usually ones of hard domination and complete control. I was definitely punished more often than I was pleasured.

  “Oh my… uhhh…” I gasp and moan, making incoherent noises
as he rewards me for my small obedience, his tongue finding my clit, dancing around the outside of that little bud and then lapping straight across it, sending my hips into a bucking fit which he quickly puts a stop to, holding me down to take his tongue lashing over my newly bared pussy.

  “You’re fucking delicious,” he growls, drawing away for just a moment before returning to the task of making me squeal.

  I can feel myself rising to new peaks. He’s made me orgasm before. He’s forced climax from me, and he’s denied it too. This time he leads me there, caressing and cajoling the soft petals of my cunt until I reach down and grasp at his hair with wicked desperation, thighs shaking as I draw them up and hold them open, presenting the core of my body to him.

  Every part of me is open. Nothing is hidden. And he is right there, touching me, showing me what my body is capable of, giving me fresh pleasure, pushing the limits of my capacity to feel with fast little strokes of his tongue on the underside of my clit and then thick meaty thrusts inside me. His mouth is agile and wicked, just like him and I am losing myself, all my thoughts, objections, memories fleeing ahead the tidal wave of pure pleasure which lifts me high, tosses me into the stratosphere and then leaves me utterly spent, laying on the bed without any tension in my body at all.

  “You don’t have to be bad,” he says, cupping my sex with a firm hand. “There’s a lot I can do for you if you want to be my good girl.”

  “I’m not being bad on purpose…”

  “Aren’t you though? It’s the only way you know to get a response from me, isn’t it. Taunting me. Lying to me. Pushing me until you find yourself under the belt… there’s another way.”

  “I don’t taunt you because I need a response.”

  “No?” He squeezes my pussy lightly.

  “I taunt you because I enjoy it.”

  He smirks and taps my sex with the flat of his fingers. “Careful with that, Siri. You’re playing with a sadist.”

  “So you admit it.”

  “Admit what? That I enjoy inflicting some pain? Was that ever a secret?”

  “You’re not very good at secrets, so I guess not.”

  His brows lift. “What was that?”

  “I mean, took you long enough to find mine. And I basically had to spell it out for you, you know, using those blocks with letters on them they give to babie… owww!”

  He lifts his palm and swats my cunt sharply. “I see you’re not going to be truly satisfied until this hurts,” he observes sternly.

  Maybe he’s right. Maybe I crave more sensation. Maybe I need to feel his evil edge. Maybe it’s the sadist in him that makes me feel safe. That’s a lot of maybes, and none of them matter because my thighs are being pushed open and he’s spanking that same sensitive skin he just licked to orgasm. I am as sensitive as I can be, and he is whipping his fingers against my lips with a stern intensity that makes me yowl.

  Stavros

  I’m learning something about Siri I long suspected, but was hard to confirm because she was so shut down and determined to hide herself.

  She’s a huge. fucking. brat.

  Her father never had any chance of controlling her. A girl with a spirit like this is too much to be contained by anyone, ever. You could lock her away underground and she’d break her way back to the light by sheer force of will.

  It’s what I love about her. And it’s what’s making her pussy turn pink right now as I give her exactly what she asked for. Exactly what she needs.

  “Ow! Stavros! You’re supposed to be saving me!”

  “I am. From yourself.”

  She’s going to push me. I know that. She’s going to test me to see if I revert to what she thinks is my type. What she might not know is that I’m looking forward to it. I can take everything this beautiful young woman has to give. Her body is the battleground where I will be tested. My dominance has to be complete, or she will sense weakness and go wild.

  I give her pussy one last slap and slide up and over her, feeling her soft body beneath mine, so young, so tender, so full of rebellion.

  “You know what happens now?”

  She bites her lower lip and shakes her head. My cock is pressing against her pussy through the fabric of my pants. Those are going any second now. I’m going to be back inside her, but not inside that slippery wet bare cunt of hers. There will be time to fuck her there later. Right now, I’m intent on taking the only hole which will make a real impact on her psyche.

  I brush stray hair out of her eyes, my touch gentle, my voice tender and affectionate. “Do you remember what I told you I’d do to you the first day we met?”

  “Sell me?”

  “No,” I say. “What I said after I took my belt to your butt over the hood of my car. I asked you if anyone had ever had your…”

  “Ass,” she whispers the word.

  “Clever girl. You do remember.”

  “Now?”

  She’s almost hopeful with the question, even as she pretends to be horrified. Nothing horrifies Siri. She’s seen too much and lost even more.

  “Yes, sweetheart. Now.”

  Siri

  He’s going to claim me completely. I can see it in his eyes. Nothing will be left when he is done with me, not a scrap of secrets will remain. He let me hide in plain sight for too long, and now he’s going to make sure he knows every part of me, physically as well as mentally. His eyes are locked on mine with intense connection. This is crude and raw, but it’s more than sex. This is a systematic conquest of my mind, body, and soul.

  I’m not going to fight it. I’m going to welcome it. I need this. I always knew Stavros would be my salvation. I thought it would come from using him to escape, but I’m seeing now that there was never any escaping him. I will gain my freedom by finding myself inside the walls of his world.

  He pulls lubricant from a drawer and drizzles it over my sore spanked pussy, letting it drizzle down the crevice between my cheeks. Then he pushes his hand down low and his fingertip finds the bud of my bottom, a tight little hole which tightens further when he touches it.

  “Relax,” he urges me gently. “This doesn’t have to hurt, but it will if you fight it.”

  Fighting him always causes pain, not because he wants to hurt me, but because I have to hurt myself. I take a deep breath as the base of his palm rubs over the wet, warm slit of my sex. He should be inside my pussy, but that is the one place he is ignoring.

  He watches my face as he pushes that finger inside me, spreading the tight ring of muscle for his probing digit. This is more gentle than I thought he’d be. Maybe it’s more gentle than I deserve. The silence between us is broken only by the whimper I can’t help when he pushes another finger in, two of them stretching me open in preparation for his much thicker, harder cock.

  “I wanted to do this to you that first day,” he rumbles. “When you wouldn’t get out of my car, and I took my belt to you. I wish I’d taken it then. We could have saved ourselves so much trouble if I’d just broken you in properly instead of wondering who you were.”

  “You couldn’t have broken me.”

  He smirks, but he doesn’t know how true it is. When he had me back then, I was unbreakable. Or, put another way, I was long broken. I have endured more than he can imagine. I have seen things I can’t begin to describe. Life in the Medici household was full of horrors seen through crevices and cracks in doors.

  Stavros’ fingers plunge deeper, bring me back to the present.

  “Am I losing your attention, Siri?”

  I look into his eyes and shake my head. He’s not losing me. He’s just bumping up against the parts of me he never had, the parts he still doesn’t know are really there. I am the little innocent he saved from a forced marriage, but there is so much more in my past, so much he can’t save me from because it already happened.

  I surrender myself to his touch. I let him overwhelm my senses as he pulls those fingers free and runs the length of his cock down my wet, spanked slit and down to the tight hole
of my ass. I draw in a deep breath as he starts to push in, to prove his point, to claim the dark little part of me which has stayed secret from all other men.

  The sound which escapes me is feral, a long, low animal whine. He is stretching me slowly, adding more lubricant, caring for me even as he claims me. My thighs are spread lewdly wide, my back against the bed, my body given for him, a sacrifice of pure flesh.

  He’s deep in my ass.

  He’s holding me down.

  He’s finding new parts of me to explore, depths and crevices, parts and places which should never know a man’s touch. Just when I thought he’d lost his edge, he shows me he is still the depraved man I knew he was that very first time I looked into his eyes.

  “This is my ass,” he grunts. I can feel his throbbing cock making my anus pulse in time with the beating of his heart. We are thoroughly, completely connected. His cock is deep inside me, sinking as far as it can go until my impaling is complete and his hips rest against the lower parts of my cheeks which are turned up, my thighs pushed back and up toward my head. This is a position girls who sell themselves take. This is not the safe missionary of the middle class. This is what it is to be undone in a carnal way, shown that however much a hero he might become, I will always be his captive.

  He pulls all the way out and then drives back in, spearing into my ass, slapping my pussy with his palm, punishing and fucking me. His other hand claps down over my mouth, muffling my screams, keeping the other guests from hearing how I am being thoroughly ravaged by this man who has not just called my bluff, but absolutely destroyed it.

  “Fuck… fuck….”

  I start to lose my mind, every part of my body responding to his dominant claim. His cock is making meat of me, turning my flesh into a thing of feeling. Nothing matters anymore. Not what happened in the past, not what will happen in the present. Nothing exists except what is happening in this very moment, his hot, powerful body thrusting into mine until we both scream with tormented release.

  He pulls his dick free and fists it, letting the last splashes of his cum land on my newly shaved, freshly spanked pussy, thick white seed covering my clit. He reaches down with his other hand and rubs it into my clit with his thumb, forcing multiple orgasms from my shuddering flesh, until my cries cannot be contained. My body writhes out of control and I flop to the side, my hand between my thighs to protect my ravaged cunt while his cum seeps out of my asshole.