We Meet Again (AndNich123 & Adam)

James Finnigan sat down on the hotel bed, and exhaled as he loosened up his blue silk tie (direct imported, 450 dollar) and took of his suit jacket (tailor made, 1600 dollars). It had been an awful day at Sterling City High School, almost as awful as the days used to be back when he actually went to the school.

Ten years after he graduated, he had been invited to give an inspirational speech to the students. Not very surprising, since he was the only successful individual to ever escape the dull existence of American middle class small town boredom that was Sterling, Colorado. He had no desire to return to his old school, nor to spend an hour of his life delivering pointless truisms mixed with polite lies, but it was good publicity. Made him look like a regular guy, more approachable as his PR-consultat had put it. Good for the image of the company, bla bla bla.

So he had played his role perfectly. "My time at Sterling City High School made me the man I am today." No, it almost broke him down into an irreparable mess. "Some of my old class mates are still my best and closest friends." No, he had not seen a single one of them after he left the graduation party early. Besides, none of them had been his mates, at least not in the conventional meaning of that word. "Remember, you can be anything." No, you were unlucky enough to be born in Sterling. You will be happy if you get to flip burgers, idiots. "There are no limits to what you can achieve with the help of good education…" Except none of the empty headed teenagers in front of him would ever achieve anything. "…and good education is what you will receive here at Sterling." And if you just happened to be a bit smarter than the morons who surround you you will also receive the experience of social isolation.

As if the speech had not been bad enough, after it some blonde hippie girl who had watched to much MSNBC walked up to him and started accuse him of being immoral. Babbling on about how wrong it was to just tear companies down, breaking them up, never building anything. Using all of his composure to remain calm, he had looked her in the eyes and told her that sometimes, to build something brave and new you first had to tear down the old and stagnant.

Now, back at his hotel, he needed to relax and unwind. So he did what he had only done twice before - called up an escort service, and stumbled something about the "girlfriend experience" and a "pretty blonde". His previous experience had been no good - five minutes of extremely awkward chit chat, then five minutes of even more awkward sex. Both times he had been relieved when the girls left. But the way that the annoying blonde hippie looked, it reminded him of someone, of her. She looked just like she had looked, back when they were in school. And the thought of her had not only made him sad, but also horny. A very unpleasant combination. The sadness he could do nothing about, but for the horniness there was at least an obvious cure.

He got up from the bed and looked at his own reflection in the panorama window. Was that some grey in his neatly trimmed black hair? Already, not even thirty years old? It was not fair. Back in school he had been slim, well, perhaps boney was a better description as the guys had kept telling him in the looker room. Now his luxurious life style had made his face all flabby and his belly was hanging over his tight black pants, stretching some of the buttons on his white shirt. You don't have to be good looking when you are rich he repeated to himself for the thousandth time. And at least the view behind his blurry reflection was marvelous. From the top suite you could see all of the town stretch out below. Not that it was that much to see, but anyway.

That's when someone knocked on the door. His heart beating faster, he walked to the door. Hug? Kiss? He tried to decide as he opened the door, but settled with shaking her hand, his eyes fixed at the floor to avoid the embarrassment of eye contact. "Glad you could come so quick." he said in a polite voice. "Your… ehm… donation is in the envelope at the nightstand."

Then he looked up, and his jaw dropped.

Bright red. It was the color she most often wore. Carefully painting her lips until they were a glossy shine. Perfect. No. Not perfect. Her blue eyes had locked to her entire face in the reflection. This would stand for a normal client. This was no ordinary client. I am being called to an upscale hotel. I have to blend in, and my bright red lips, short, tight dress, and spiked heels will cause me to stand out far too much. Tessa quickly grabbed several tissues and began to wipe her lips clean. Natural would be a good way to go, she thought. I have nice, plump lips with an amazing natural color. Yes. This will work. She shed her short, little, black dress that had served so well in the past as she serviced her many customers. In exchange a nice blue, lace across the top dress that looked very conservative. Her long hair seemed out of place, so she carefully pulled it away revealing her beautiful face. She had gone a little heavy with her eye make-up, but Tessa always thought her piercing blue eyes were one of her best features. Heels that didn’t extend her to the sky were exchanged for ones more down to earth. Her appearance had changed, and she might actually pass for a lady at this hotel. She should certainly be able to get in with little to no trouble now.

She picked up the paper with the address and the room number on it of who she was to meet. A deep sigh, as when she was younger this was not her chosen career. Not many girls will say in high school they want to be a prostitute. Having fallen on hard times had pushed Tessa to go a different route though. She still held on the herself respect as she rationalized this was just to make ends meet. One last look at the mirror by the door, and Tessa forced a smile as she headed out to meet the client that, little did she know, would change her life forever.

Her car, or what she drove that slightly resembled one, was parked out on the street. She never worried about anyone stealing it. Who would want it she thought. Tessa always had to talk to her car, willing it to start most times. “Come on baby. One more time. I gotta get there. Come on. For me. Please!” The car would roar to life, spit out a cloud of smoke, and she would be on her way. She drove by the old high school looking over at it. Things were so much easier back then. Why did it all have to change? She should have gone to college; she nodded agreeing with her own thoughts. No. I had to think everything was going to be easy. I’m pretty, and I knew guys would want to marry me. I didn’t think about how hard it would be to keep them. She sighed. Pretty looks and hot sex can only get you so far. It seems they always wanted more, and when she couldn’t give them what they wanted, they always found someone who could. She was so popular back then. Well liked, or was it well feared. She laughed at the thought. Sometimes it was hard to tell. She had a nerd or geek as she liked to call them, for everything she ever needed. One for each class. They helped her with her homework. Truth was, they actually did her homework for her. They even helped her cheat on tests. Was it because they liked her? Maybe they wanted to get in her pants? Maybe they were afraid of her? It didn’t matter to her. As long as the work was finished and on time. Those were good times. Life was simple. All she ever had to worry about was who she was going to go out with on Friday and Saturday nights.

She was entering the upscale area of town, and suddenly she felt terribly out of place. Her mess of a car came to rest just outside the hotel. As it made the various noises it did when it came to halt she winced hoping not too many people were paying attention. My next job and I am getting a new car. She knew it wasn’t the truth, but it was a nice lie to keep telling herself. One last check in the mirror, and she was out of her car and inside looking at the paper for the room number. She shook her head as his room was pretty high up. The rule of thumb in these places was the higher up the room, the more money they usually had. This guy must be loaded, she thought. A quick, but nerve raking ride up and the elevator stopped. Confirming the room number, she put the paper away and knocked. She had done this more times that she cared to admit, but every single time it still made her heart nearly stop. The door opened with a polite greeting and a handshake. She was stunned. “James Finnigan? Is that you?”

Five minutes ago, he would have given everything for it to be his long lost high school crush who would step in through that door. Now, when his fantasy by some strange turn of events had turned into reality, he wished for it to go away. After spending years of his career in often hostile business meetings he was well versed in etiquette for all situation, but even though his mind raced while he tried to form a sentence he could not remember any social rules for what was appropriate behavior in a situation like this.

"I... uhm..." he begun but did not manage to get any longer. With a red blush growing under the five-o-clock shadow on his cheeks, he lowered his brown eyes. Before he reached the safe spot - the floor - with his gaze, he got stuck at something else - her breasts. He had spent hours admiring them while she had solved (well, at least tried to solve, he always had to do it in the end) math problems. Back then he had though he was peaking in secret, but now he realized she had been well aware of it, and accepted it as a form of payment for his services. She wouldn't have worn those tight t-shirts every time he came over if she didn't want him to look, nor would she have just happened to come fresh out of the shower with a big towel wrapped around her slender body once. That image was still engraved on his cornea, and thinking about it he felt his cock grow hard, creating an all to visible bulge in his black suit pants.

'James, you are staring at the ladies breast.' his inner voice reminded him, and his eyes bounced back up and met hears for a short second. She was beautiful, even with those thick layers of whore make up. "How... ehem... nice to meet you?" he finally managed to say, but it sounded more like a question than a statement. "Let me get you something to drink, perhaps we can do some catching up?" He turned around, relieved not to have to face her anymore, and picked up a bottle of champagne from the living room table in front of the black leather sofa. Even though the kind of girls that would visit a mans hotel room like this would spread their legs no matter what once the donation was handed over, James felt better when he at least pretended to woo them. It took his mind off the fact that he was paying for sex, a thought that would otherwise run through his mind even during the highs of pleasure and orgasm.

With his back turned to her, he opened the bottle with a pop and started to pour to glasses. "Obviously, I was not expecting to see you here." he explained as he turned around, almost hoping for her to have silently left while he looked away. But she was still standing there, so without making eye contact he handed her a glass of champagne and than sat down in the sofa. 'Small talk. Make small talk, come on.' What was a normal thing to say to a friend you haven't seen in a long time?

"So what are you doing nowadays?" he finally came up with, but the second the words were out of his mouth he realized what a stupid question it was. He already knew what she was doing nowadays. She was a prostitute.

She couldn’t contain her amusement at his reaction. A slight laugh rising up, she put her hand over her mouth. “Oh I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.” He was blushing and seemingly tongue tied, and she was amazed by his reaction. Of course she noticed that his eyes lingered a bit too long at her chest. That seemed to be an old habit of his that he never lost. The countless afternoons of dressing a particular way to get him, her math geek, to do her homework, all came flooding back to her. The previous ride by the school already had put her mind in a nostalgic state, and now before her stood James Finnigan. It became even more so clear to her; he was still attracted to her chest as his excitement became obvious. Even for her, with her line of work, she couldn’t help but blush at the noticeable state he was in.

He still had that deer in the headlights look when he looked in her eyes, and his reactions continued to delight her. “Is it nice to meet me, or have we already had the pleasure?” Of course she was taking advantage of his uncomfortable state. She always took advantage of him. Tessa was known for taking advantage of a lot of people over the years and even still so today. She still had managed to be a very well liked woman though. It was odd how she knew how to manipulate people to get exactly what she wanted, and in the end, they still liked her. Others still liked her knowing what she was capable of.

She took a deep breath as she offered the champagne and turned. Yes he was uncomfortable, but she wasn’t exactly at ease with the current situation. One of her old high school classmates has called a hooker to his room, and she was the one sent to him. Of course it was a tense situation. She entered into the foyer by the door and closed it softly behind her. Leaving was not an option. Tessa was not a quitter, and the bills had to be paid. Thoughts of her heap of a car parked outside in desperate need of simply being put out of its misery came to mind. She needed this job, this donation he was going to give her.

The pop drew her back from her reverie with a jerk, and she laughed. His sentiment ringing true for her as well as he offered her a glass. “Honestly I never expected to see you here as well.” She took a sip from her glass slowly lowering it from her lips as he asked her possibly the most out of place question he could have ever asked. “Really James? What am I doing nowadays? I am a scout. I seek out customers before I send the real prostitute to the room just to make sure my girl is going to be safe.” Her expression, her tone, was deadpan. “I’m a prostitute James, but you? You on the other hand seem to have done pretty well for yourself. I knew there was a reason I got you to do my homework back in school. I was wise to at least pick you. Not so much to make the choice to have someone else do the work for me. You see, even now I have trouble with math. I have a set number of money that needs to go out for various expenses. Well the money coming in doesn’t match; therefore, I have a huge deficit. One that I have had to take on such jobs at this to try and make up. So your donation will go a long way towards helping cover said deficit.” She raised her glass with clearly a forced smile on her face in a mock toast. Even as she took another sip, her eyes were to him. “So what is it exactly that you do James? How do you afford such luxury, and the most important question,” she paused raising her eyebrows at him, “are you hiring?”

James was amazed at how confident and unmoved she seamed to be, as if this strange situation she had found herself in didn't touch her at all. Meeting an old friend who is trying to buy sexual favors from you? Just smile and take it with a breeze! But thinking about it, this was not the first time she was giggling at him and he was stammering out words that made no sense. It had been their normal mode of communication for the four years in high school they had known each other, so come to think of it this was a natural way to pick up their acquittance.

When he joined her in the toast, the champagne glasses chinking, his smile was just as forced as hers, the only difference being that she was much better at forcing smiles than he was. In his line of work, to never smile was considered an asset. In hers, he understood it must be the other way around. "I'm sorry. That... that was a stupid thing to say." he admitted in a shaking, ashamed voice as he sat down in the sofa. He started making a gesture with his hand for her to join him, but regretted it half way through and instead scratched his neck in an unnatural way. "And I mean there is no need for you to excuse yourself for what you are doing or be ashamed... I am sure you have your reasons. And I mean I am the one who called you up here." You are the one who should make excuses, you are the one who should be ashamed, his inner voice shouted at him.

Happy to change the subject away from the elephant in the room - she was a prostitute, he was a john, they were supposed to engage in sexual intercourse - he changed the subject to his job. "I buy companies, under performing companies that loose money. So I get them cheap, and then I split them up and sell the various assets for more than I bought the company for." Suddenly feeling a bit brave, he added in a more defiant tone: "I guess you could say that the money that goes out are less than the money that comes in. That is what they call a surplus." He articulated the last word, tasted every syllable of it, in the same way he had done with the complicated math terms back then - log-a-rithm.

He was genuinely surprised at how good that felt, to be snarky to the girl that he had once loved. Or had it been love? More than loved her he had adored her, worshiped her, like something just as abstract, distant and unattainable as the christian god he had never believed in. And now he could just sit here and be blasphemous with out having to consider the consequences - no lightning would strike him down, no beautiful angel would banish him from her presence. He wanted to stop there, just be nice and polite, but it was just to tempting to go on - he was a little child that had just realized he could brake all the rules without repercussion. "And yes, we are hiring, but I am afraid most of our positions require a different skill set than yours."

Again her amusement was found in his reactions, that ever so shaky tone he carried on with trying to be so much more confident that he actually was. She smirked and looked out the huge window at the gorgeous view laid out beneath their feet. “It’s alright James. I am what I am, and I do what I do. Of course I have reasons. One, in particular, that I simply cannot escape from. You see I have this one need that drives me daily, and as much I wish I could endure without it, I can’t. I have to eat. There I said,” she threw up her free hand in mock exhaustion. “I have to eat. So I have to work. It’s a cruel reality really. The body simply has to have food, and I refuse to rummage through the vile garbage to simply eat. So I’ve grown accustomed to going to the places, grocery stores, and buying my food. It’s almost an addiction.” Tessa continued to gaze out fully aware of her tone and cynical attitude. It had always been a cornerstone to her personality. It was a well known fact to be careful what you said around her as her responses would tend be along such lines. Clearly nothing had changed.

Turning, she truly was intrigued by his line of work. It was something she had never even heard about, and she certainly couldn’t have imagined him going into this line of work. She realized the tone he was using with her, and a tiny spark ignited inside. He is being smart with me, she thought. He’s being, her thoughts paused as she recalled the days back in school when he would react very much along the same lines. He’s being exactly how he was then. Slowly she sauntered up to him, allowing her hips to sway gracefully. She stopped just in front of him and looked down at him. “You always did like showing off your big, massive, huge brain James.” His later comments had only fanned that initial spark and she was not one to simply let things go. Tessa liked reactions. She liked pushing buttons. Again, nothing had changed. “A different skill set than mine? Well it seems you, with your company and its way of doing business, like to go and screw people over. So I think I might fit in just nicely. Of course I can always bring my work to your desk, let you stare at my chest, and get you to finish it for me.” A defiant smile of her own spread across her face before she turned and walked back over to the window.

Sighing she simply could not stop herself. “So tell me James. Tonight is that going to be the case? Will you take care of business with your hand, doing my work for me, and I simply collect the donation and leave? Just like old times,” she added looking over her shoulder that same smile gracing her face once more. She knew what she was being to him, and in her mind he deserved it. He was the one that was cruel in the beginning. He is the one that degraded her “skill sets”, as he worded it. She had always known what she was, and that was not about to change now. He may have money, but he clearly didn’t have the one thing he still wanted. A woman to stay by his side. That was a simple fact she could exploit if given the chance. So in her mind, she thought he better be careful of the ground he treads. I will push those buttons. I will pick at that wound, but I will not allow him to humiliate me by making me feel like any less of a woman, a person, because circumstances have lead me where I am tonight. She pushed her shoulders back and held her head high as the proud, confident woman she was.

Whit her voice in that deep, confessional tone he almost thought the bodily need she was referencing as the reason for her enterprise would be of a more sinful nature. But off course not, she was only playing theater, having a little bit of fun with him by keeping his hope alive only to kill it with a joke. The usual way. Oh, if she had only chosen to play out the lie instead, telling him how much she wanted to be fucked, how she needed it, how horny she was. That was what the other two escort girls, the whores, had told him when his curiosity had gotten the better out of him and he as polite as he could tried to inquire about the motives for their choice of profession. Off course the lies had been obvious, they had been reading their script in dry voices, but still that little fig leaf of imagination had been enough for him to be able to hide his shame behind long enough to get naked with them. But Tess would not give him that comfort, that had never been her style.

Showing off his big, massive, huge brain? Did this women ever speak in sentences that didn't sound like ripped from a porn script but with the happy ending replaced by sarcastic twists? The excitement he had felt when he listened to his own voice, realizing he for once actually sounded cocky and confident, was all gone now. This was her game he had tried to play, and she was bound to win it. For fuck sake, she even managed to get him to feel bad for only staring at her breasts when technically he was paying for squeezing them. Sitting there at the sofa, his dick slowly growing limp, he felt seventeen years old again.

When her smart little rant was over, he sighed and then emptied the champagne glass in one quick go. "Listen... We don't have to do this." His voice was sad, dejected, but steady. "I don't have to try to brag in front of you. You don't have to try to insult me. We don't have to... eh..." What should he call it? Fuck? No, to vulgar. Make love? No, to romantic. "...sleep together. You can take the money, it isn't enough for me to care about, and then you can stay and chat, you can leave, you can do whatever you want with your life." He inhaled after finishing his speech, and for the first time since he had greeted her at the door, he actually looked into her eyes, waiting for her response.

The tone in his voice had changed, and it was one she recognized right away. Many times had she dashed the hopes of several men, and had them crawl away with their tail between their legs only to lick their wounds in a corner. James was already headed for the nearest corner. There was a moment, a small one at best, where she felt a bit sorry for him and guilty. She never liked the latter very much, and so she quickly swept it away. A skill set required in her line of work. One must be able to sweep all emotions under the rug lest you desire for them to get in the way. Lucky for her, that was a talent she had not only started working on in school, but she had well perfected it.

“James, I’m not a quitter, and frankly I thought better of you. You’ve accumulated such a nice fortune for yourself here, and that’s clearly taken a lot of hard work and dedication. I’m sure you’ve put in many hours at the office pounding away on your….ambitions.” Of course there was a smirk not only in her tone but on her face. Tessa had not mastered the fine art of knowing when to stop and walk away. “However, you want me to leave I can fully understand. It must be so difficult for you really.”

She rose drinking the rest of her champagne as quickly as he had leaving her last comment hanging in the air for him to wonder what she meant. Sitting the glass down, she looked into his eyes once more. He was getting brave in holding her gaze, and she smiled at him. “You’re such a brilliant James. That I will give you without hesitation. You just have no spine, no backbone, and clearly no balls. I could lend you mine seeing as how you stared at them enough before.” She looked down at her chest before returning her gaze. “You could be so much more, but instead you cower and hide. Such a pity really. With all your wealth and all that it can buy, you still lack confidence. You will always be destined to only have call girls as no woman wants a spineless, “her eyes look down at his crotch, “limp, jellyfish of a man.”

She straightened up from bending over so that she could keep a better hold to his gaze and headed for the table to collect the envelope. “Take care James, and if you ever need our services again, please do not hesitate to call on us again. Just make sure to tell whoever takes your call to not send me. As easy as this money is, there are some things that simply are not worth the effort. Coming here, enduring this, makes that list for me. You were so useful to me then James, and if you were truly a man, you might still be of some use to me now. Call me when you become one.” She heads towards the foyer and the door. “Have a good night James, and please do my homework for me.”

He sat leaned back in the sofa, listening to her ruthless tirade. At first, every single word felt like a stab to his chest. In quick strokes she sucked out his will to live from his body, one shot at a time, like a greedy fat girl with a milkshake. He didn't want to call another agency after this, as he had planned earlier, he didn't even want to masturbate, as she had suggested. He just wanted to fall asleep, catch the first plane in the morning, and never ever return to Sterling or Colorado again.

Then suddenly it struck him, like a lightning bolt from a clear sky. There was no reason for him to sit here and take all this. Absolutely no reason at all. His effort to calm himself down had been for her sake, because he did not want to hurt her feelings. Sure, she had been a bitch in high school, but now she was obviously just a poor girl caught in a though spot, or so he had figured. But now she had proved beyond all reasonable doubt that Tessa Arcadia was the bitch she had always been. He had no moral obligation towards this woman, who seemed to think she had no moral obligations to him. It was then he made his decision. He would not spare her anything.

Now this wasn't her game anymore. This was his game, this was what he had worked with for the last ten years, what he had lived for for the last ten years. Negotiations. Intimidate your opponents, scare them into giving up their assets for the lowest price possible. The only difference was that this time the assets were not a company but a human body, perhaps even a human soul. But that was a minor difference in his book.

Relieved of both the shame and the despair, he put his feet up on the table. Now, for every word she spoke, his smile just grew wider. Silently he added every insult, every snide remark, to the list of missteps she would have to pay for. It took him all of his willpower not to burst out into a big laugh of the wild and crazy kind, but he stayed silent, just smiling like the sun.

He waited until she had her hand on the door knob before he spoke. Then, in a steady, clear voice he informed her of the fact she would find out herself in the next second: "The door is looked." He got up from the sofa, picked up the remote control from the table and turned on some music. The next second the room was filled with a slow waltz, the one they always show people figure skating to on TV. With sweeping, long steps in sync with the music he approached her until she was trapped between his tall body and the locked door. Looking down at her, the smirk on his face bigger than ever, he gently took her hands in his and said in the softest voice he could muster: "Honey, you do realize that I have the money to pay layers and bribes to get away with anything I may choose to do to you?"

He just that there grinning, she thought. Not once did he try to defend himself. What a loser. He’ll never change. She reached for the doorknob, and his words nearly stopped her. He was right. It was locked. She turned quickly with a curious look on her face. What’s his game, she thought. Then, as if some creepy, almost insane movie, he turned on the music and slowly rose. She narrowed her eyes at him as a sense of uneasiness began to wash over her. Tessa always thought she was good at figuring people out, but James certainly had her guessing, and second guessing, everything she assumed to know about him and this night right now. Had everything been an act since she walked through the door, or was this, his behavior right now, an elaborate act?

“Bravo,” she clapped her hands as he danced his way rather gracefully over towards her. Her smile thinking she had the upper hand as this was clearly some kind of ploy, some kind of tactic he was using to make her think he was in control, grew as he got closer. Oh she could act quite well, and she could still pull the rug out from under him. He wanted to play, and she was always more than game for a little fun. He is in my world now, she thought. He wants to play? I’ll play. As he inched ever closer, her smile remained. She was between his frame and the door, and as he took her hands, she began to feel anxious and afraid. Never being one to show such emotions, Tessa looked down at his chest before looking up into eyes. A moment to gather her courage one might say. What the hell are you doing James, she thought. Her question, as well as her smile, was soon gone though. His words burned her to her very being, and fear and panic began to run wildly.

“James? You don’t think I would come here tonight without safety precautions in play do you? There are people who know I should be somewhere at a certain time to let them know I am okay, and this job went smoothly. The agency, for one, and I’ve got another backup contact. So try to keep me here, and you’ll only putting yourself at risk. Now, do the smart thing, like I know you want to, and unlock the damn door! I mean it’s one thing to call an escort service, but it’s another thing to keep them here against their will! That’s sick James. You need help. Now unlock the damn door, and you can even keep your money. No amount of money is worth this.” Of course she was lying. The agency didn’t care one bit about the girls it employed. They were in and out of service due to various reasons as if there was a revolving door to the place. Some were heard from again, and some seemed to disappear from the face of the earth. Were clients like James the reason for that? Oh my! What if that is the case? Her anxiety levels rose after her sudden realization, but she remained calm on the outside. She didn’t want to let him know he was getting to her. As for another contact waiting on her, Tessa meant nothing to anyone. So of course there wasn’t one, but he had been away. He didn’t know that. For all he knew she still had tons of friends like she did in school. So she was playing a game with him still. She always did. Tessa was good at the games. She only hoped she was just good at his game as she was at all the others.

James listened to the scared prostitutes warnings with a calm smile on his face. "Don't worry, honey, you will be out of here in time. I would hate to brake your... schedule." he said with a voice so soothing it bordered on creepy.

"Do you remember when I asked you out for the graduation prom?" he suddenly asked. He was looking straight through her, his eyes fixed at some distant point at the horizon as if the memory was being played up in front of him and he was only narrating what he saw. "You said no, off course." He put his right hand on her shoulder blade, his thick arm just gently brushing against the side of her breast. "Well, no was not the only thing you said. You said that you would rather die than bee seen next to me, you said that being nice to me was just something you did to get help with the math, and if I was so stupid as not to understand that obvious fact - why else would a pretty girl ever talk to a dork like me - it was not your fault. And you said now that school was over you had no further use for me, so I could just fuck off." The despise he felt shone through his sober and matter-of-factly voice. "That is a direct quote, by the way." he added as he raised his left hand, together with her right, into a dance pose.

"I know this is a decade to late, but will you have this dance with me?" he asked, but did not wait for her answer. Just as the music hit a crescendo, he swayed her out on the imaginary dance floor that was his hotel room. He held her tight, tighter than a gentleman should in a dance, with her chest pressed against his, so she could feel every breath he took. His face was right next to hers, and without missing a beat of the dance he whispered into her ear in a poor mimic of the lovers gentle passion: "As you try to make it through tonight, I want you to remember this. How much easier wouldn't it have been if you had said yes back then? All you would have had to do was dance with me, perhaps give me a good night kiss. It would have been so much easier than this."

His tone, his comment only fueled the slight rage that beginning to grow beneath the surface with her. Fuck off, she thought as she starred at him. Her nerves trying to grip her, get the better of her, but she was not about to give him the satisfaction, and there is nothing he can do that will make cause me to let him know exactly what I am feeling at this moment. It was as if he was someone else, and for Tessa, this meant a whole new game. She had to learn him, and his mode of play, quickly. The music picking up, ringing through the room loudly. Her heart nearly pounding with as much intensity. This was as if straight out of a film including a stalker and his prey. Prey. The word struck her hard. That’s what she was to him right now. His prey, and he the predator. She swallowed hard as this new realization brought on so much more, and her nerves were slowly winning the battle.

She nodded at his questions. Of course she didn’t remember it at all. How could she be expected to remember all the guys that asked her out? There were too many, and along with them too many dashed hopes. Still she did not want to convey message to him. So she simply agreed and listened to the musing of a mad man. That’s what she was viewing him as now. A mad man. Sadly as he wove his tale to her, she did recall some of what he said. Once school as out, he was right, she had no need for him anymore. His emotions radiated, and she was exposed to them all. As his right hand started for her shoulder, she dropped her purse and the envelope. Her nerves finally winning the battle, she shook her head at him. She wanted to tell him no, but gripped by fear, she had lost the ability to speak. She trembled as his hand held her own.

Her eyes widened as he asked her the most ridiculous question he possibly could have and dragged her further into the hotel room. Darting around, she was at a total loss. James really did seem to have lost his mind at this point. How do you deal with a crazy person? Not once did the thought enter her mind that she had pushed him to this. She could have been nicer to him. She could have simply taken the money and left without saying a word. Instead she chose to push buttons, and now she was dealing with the consequences. As he leaned close to her, she held her breath. Easier than this? What did he mean by this? Surly that implies there is so much more to this than this dance.

She took a moment to regain her composure. There was no doubt Tessa had to reel in her nerves and try to regain control of this situation. His grip was firm, and she had endured almost as much of this sick, silly game as she was going to. “James! Let me go! That dance, as you said was a decade ago. Move on! Get over it! Grow up! You’ve lost your damn mind! You’re insane! This borders on sick!” She gazed into his eyes waiting for him to say something. She pulled trying to get free, but his grip was strong.

Tess' protest went by him unnoticed. In perfect harmony with the music he continued to dance as if he was completely unaware of the fact that he had to drag her feet over the floor to get her to follow along. "Yes, you are right, my dear." he said. His tone was that of polite conversation at a dinner party, nothing like what a situation like this actually called for. "An awful amount of time has passed, indeed, and a lot of things have changed. But let me teach you some economics. We have already covered deficits and surpluses, so lets do some supply and demand." He was speaking slowly, like if he was trying to explain something really complicated to a little school girl. "In high school, there was only one queen and everybody wanted her. Lots of demand, low supply, that gives you a high price, a high value." All the while he talked he continued the waltz, his voice rising and falling with the music - forward, side, close, one, two, three... His body moved with the same precision as he spoke, both in stark contrast to his teenage years when both his movements and his words always seemed to be an unsynchronized mess.

He cleared his throat before he went on with his lecture. "Now this place is crowded with pathetic failures and nobody wants you. Lots of supply, no demand, that gives you a low value. A value no higher than that of the services you provide, and when you get older and to ugly for anyone to want to fuck, no value at all." He laughed a hoarse, complacent laugh as he led her into a turn, admiring the sight of her blue dress whirling. When their bodies met again he held her even tighter, his thick digits burying into her shoulder. "You may accuse me of being rude, my dear, but you can not call me a liar." He smiled a false smile so big that his artificially white teeth shone.

"And that, in conclusion, is why back then I would have been happy with only a good night kiss, but now I am free to take whatever I want." He sounded like a math professor who had just finished his proof for the angular sum of the triangle. Quod erat demonstrandum. Suddenly he let go of her shoulder blade, and instead ran his fingers through her long, blonde hair, holding her head like it was a most precious but fragile possession. Slowly he moved it towards him, like in a dramatic film kiss from a black and white fifties movie. But just as their lips were about to meet, just as his cold brown eyes stared into hers, he reversed direction. His hand formed a fist, and by her hair he pulled her back, down towards the floor.

"Yes, that is why today I can just tell you to get down on your fucking knees and suck my cock like the whore you are." He did not raise his voice a bit, but yet he sounded like he was roaring.

She looked at him in disgust. Her words had clearly fallen on the ears of a lunatic. He was lost in some time loop wanting something that he could never have. So it became painfully clear to her he was just going to take it, but in his mind, he had paid for it. Even though the money now lay next to her purse on the floor, and she had told him he could keep it, he clearly still felt he had the right to do this. His lecture was long, and the more he spoke, the sicker she felt. He really believes all this bullshit spewing from his mouth like vomit. She had never been in this position before. At the whims of a real nut case. Her eyes constantly darting around as he whirled her around completely against her own will. His hand held her firm. His fingers pressed into her back almost painfully so.

He had been right though. That was almost as hard to swallow as the current situation. No one did want her now. No one even knew, nor cared, where she was right now. If she didn’t come home, not even a silly pet would miss her. No goldfish would die. No cat would go hungry. She meant nothing to anyone, and he had brought that truth right into her face. While he was lost in his words, his pathetic dance from years and woe from years gone by, she was facing her own reality. She wasn’t anything to anyone. It hurt, nearly ripping at her soul, but she would not show that to him. He didn’t deserve to know. He deserved a padded room with a nice white jacket that allowed him to hug himself.

“And that, in conclusion….” His words breaking her from her thoughts only confirmed what she already feared. He does think he can take whatever he wants! She gasped as he ran his fingers through her hair. It turned her stomach that he was even touching her. She stood there silent, almost as a means of defiance. No matter what he had in store, she thought, I will not go silently. I will not go without a fight of some sort. He drew her closer, and though the thought of kissing him was vile, she had kissed several others that gave her the same feeling. She didn’t want to close her eyes though. She didn’t want to give him any sense of romance. Her own eyes widened and her brow furrowed as he grasped her hair firmly, making a fist, and pulling her down to the floor.

She looked up at him not only afraid, but more enraged than she had been yet this entire evening. Her eyes glaring with her anger, she looked up as much as she could before returning her gaze to his crotch. He wants me to suck his cock? Not going to happen. In her state, she made her own fist, and punched hard at his crotch. Though many things had changed, a man’s reaction to his cock being punched was not one of them.

Just as the Vienna Johann Strauss Orchestra, as conducted by Joseph Francek, reached the vivace of "An der shönen blauer Donaue" by said Johan Strauss II, her fist hit his crotch with a muffled bang. As the flash of pain spread though his body he did what generations before him had done under such circumstances - he bended forward with his mouth foolishly open and his dumbstruck face filled with a mix of surprise and agony. For exactly three measures of the music he stumbled backwards as he tried to compose himself and block out the soaring pain. Then, as Herr Francek brought the brass section of his orchestra into the music again, the anger that was erupting within James overpowered the pain and confusion. In one measure he had stepped back to the girl on the floor, his black leather shoes clattering against the wooden floor in sync with the music. As he approached her his plushy face turned red, not in humble blushing but in pure rage. Sweat was glistering on his forehead and his bloodshot eyes had a strange glow to them. In the next measure he grabbed her golden hair again, this time slamming her face down on the floor with ruthless force just as the woodwind joined the brass in the crescendo.

He put a feet on her face, pinning her down on her belly with one cheek pressed to the floor on the other to the sole of his shoe. Then he bended down to pull her blue dress, a piece of clothing classy enough to fit with the ballroom music, up over her ass and then her panties down, leaving them at her knees. While he admired her exposed abdomen and Herr Francek spurred the orchestra forward in the winding music he undid and removed his leather belt (two hundred and twenty dollars at Harrods, London). "I thought this was the only job you ever would be any good at." He spat the words out with a harsh voice while he raised his hand and the belt. "But it turns out you're to fucking stupid to even be a proper whore."

With those words he let the belt whiz through the air with a snap and hit her right over her nude ass, leaving a bright red mark behind as he raised his arm again to repeat the procedure. Falling into the rhythm of the music he hit her again and again with the belt, one two three, one two three, raise, snap, bang, raise, snap, bang. "Don't you have a pimp to beat you up when you don't satisfy your customers?" Raise, snap, bang, raise, snap, bang. His voice was growing louder and louder, and had it not been for the fact that there was only one suite on the top floor the other guests would have started to complain by now. "Should the customer really have to be the one who instill some damn discipline in you, whore?"

Her bottom was slowly painted red, one stripe at a time. He continued to whip her with the belt, as if she was nothing but yet another percussion instrument in Herr Franceks orchestra.

She grinned watching the pain spread across his face. He had brought all of this on himself. All he had to do was let me go, but he had to go down this path. Her shoulders pushed back in almost a victory position, she watched him with a near curiosity wanting to ask him sarcastically if it hurt. She had hopes he would lose his balance and land on the floor, but she was not so lucky. His face red as he tried to compose himself, Tessa came to the sinking conclusion that she was still locked in the room with him, and she had just poked a stick in the tiger’s cage. Her eyes darted to the door in fear. She grabbed the remote from the table quickly thinking perhaps it would unlock the door. Instead all she managed to do was the raise the volume to the music. In frustration, she threw the remote before she looked to see where he was in his recovery. Much to her dismay, he was charging towards as a man with a mission. She began to try and back away from him, but he was too fast, too driven, for her to be successful. He spared no time pressing her face to the cold, hard floor. Her hands grabbing at his ankle would not be able to budge him. In fact, in his current state, she was sure he wouldn’t even feel her. Never the less, she beat his ankles as best she could from her position.

“James,” she screamed as best she could. It was muffled, but she yelled loudly. She knew her stupid act of turning the music up louder would now bite her in the ass as it dashed any hopes of anyone hearing anything going on. She didn’t know there were no more rooms on this floor, and so she kept screaming his name. Without even realizing, she began to plead with him to let her go. “Please James! Just let me go! This has gone too far! I don’t want your money! If you do this, I’ll go to the cops!” She gasped, and her hands grabbed the material around his ankles as he pulled her dress up and her panties down. “James! What the hell are you doing?” A panic unlike anything she had ever known began to choke her. She was certain he was going to force himself on her right then and there on the cold, hard, unforgiving floor. “James. Please.” Her voice now as stable as she could muster it, and even then it was shaky, cracking, laced with the anxiety that was clearly wrapping around her body. “I….I just want to go home James. Keep your….your money.” She still could not bring herself to apologize to him. Even in this current state, Tessa still had her pride. Apologizing to someone was always something she found almost impossible to do. This crazy, mad man with his mission to force me to some kind of realization that I should have been nicer to him, given him a chance, whatever he’s after does not deserve an apology to pass my from lips. Her thoughts were a mixed bag. One second she she was dignified and certain he deserved the deepest pits of the worst asylum. The next second she was afraid of his next move. Soon all her thoughts centered around one thing. Pain. She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts, her own little world as she always was, that she didn’t even notice him removing his belt. A fact that she soon became agonizingly aware of as the leather made contact with her ass. “James,” she screeched. Her hands down pounding into the floor. With every lash he gave her, she screamed even louder. The pain searing through her body, her throat soon began to hurt as she was crying out so loudly. There were no words. No. Just screams of pure torture as he was relentless in his assault on her ass. It was almost poetic how he was in sync with the music. She began to anticipate his blows by the tempo. Her hands red and sore from banging into the floor in any attempt to make him stop, to alert someone, anything. To no avail, he continued. To make matters worse, he began to verbally attack her as well. His words cut deeply. Each sentence, each sentiment behind what he was saying was a fresh wound. Tears streaming down her face, she could hear him over her own screams, and slowly the pain became a dull ache. Not just from his belt, but his words, caused her such grief. He was all wrong! The agency isn’t like that! I’m not a whore! I am an escort, and you are abusing me! Fuck you asshole! Her thoughts growing with the anger, the rage, and the heartbreaking words he spewed at her like venom. She began to worry, and rightfully fear, what else he could possibly have in mind for her.

"Mmm, I like it when you say my name, bitch." he said imitating a bad porn actor, and then laughed at his own joke. But it was no lie - much to his surprise, he noticed that every time he heard her desperate, parched voice scream his name his cock grew stiffer in his pants. Had he not been so caught in the moment, absorbed by the rhythmical beating of her ass, the beautiful sobbing sounds she made, the music, everything, he might have stopped to reflect at that strange fact and thought about what it meant, what it said about him. But his heart was beating heavy and his blood was rushing with adrenaline every time he let the long leather belt impact on her striped ass; this was no time for solemn reflections.

Then it struck him. Had he not just thought about her tears as something beautiful? In the sense he would think of a majestic landscape or a piece of art as beautiful? The sudden realization caused him to miss one beat with the belt, as he stood there frozen for a short second while his mind tried to figure out what this all meant. It did not take him long, though, to understand that the exercise was useless, and he compensated for the missed beat by bringing down the belt extra hard on her the next time.

After what felt just like a few seconds, but after inspecting her red ass he realized it must have been minutes, he stopped the whipping and lifted his foot from her face. A red boot mark was clearly visible, he could almost make out the pattern of his sole on her skin. "Crying already?" he asked as he looked down at her roughed up face and her tearful bambi eyes. "I thought that you were suppose to do that in the shower once you got back home, not in front of the customer." He got down on his knees, straddling her with one leg on each side of her body. With strong hands he grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms together behind her back. Holding her wrists together with one hand, he spun the belt around her arms, just below her elbows, with the other. Then he tightened the belt, forcing her to push her shoulders painfully far back as he pulled the belt to force a few more holes through the loop before he closed it.

"You are supposed to smile like an eager little harlot and moan like a porn star, not cry like some pathetic wimp." He leaned forward over her, and when his amused face was above her devastated one he cleared his throat to gather saliva in his mouth, and then spat a big gob right on her face. The warm fluid splashed on her chin, some of it clogging her eye. "Didn't your pimp teach you that, huh? Or all those boys you dated back in school?" He got up again, and pulled the loose end of the belt to force her up on her feet again. Then he grabbed her around the neck from behind, his thick fingers pressing on the sides of her throat as he forced her to bow forward. In that awkward position he started to lead her behind him, with her slutty small panties around her ankles, through the room towards the bathroom door.

"Like the captain of the football team, for instance." he continued. "Or everyone else in the football team as well for that matter... Lets face it, you dropped your wet panties for almost anyone who was hunk enough to get your primordial mating instinct going. Didn't all these guys teach you to smile, beg and moan like a bitch while they fucked you? And say thank you afterwards?" His anger fueled the insults, and the insult he kept throwing at the poor girl he had in his tight grip just fueled his anger. And the more worked up he got, the tighter his grip became. "Can you do that for me, Tess? For old times sake? Put on a smile on those cock sucker lips and beg me to fuck you like the filthy cum rag you are!"

He truly was enjoying this. Her pain. Her screams. Her torture. He was probably hard just carrying on like this. That was when the true fear of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. “Yes James,” she cried out. He likes it when I call his name. Call his name. Over and over. Maybe this can somehow sedate him a little. She continued calling his name at various volumes. She wasn’t keeping rhythm with the music. She was simply calling it so he could hear it. It became a matter; at that point, of doing whatever she thought might subdue him a bit.

She noticed he had missed a lash, a stroke. Was it working? Is he calming down? She took the moment to not only keep calling his name over and over, but to take a few deeps breaths. She was still crying, yelling through her tears. Her joy was short lived as the belt once more collided with her tender, reddened ass. Her screams almost able to shatter the glass protecting them from the outside. Her body seemed to ricochet from the floor from the force of his blow. “James,” she screamed out nearly piercing her own eardrums. “Please! I’m begging you! Stop!” She was stunned as the words left her own mouth. I just begged him to stop. At that point, she would have done almost anything to get him stop. She wasn’t even sure he heard her words. He seemed so enthralled in his own world, and she was along for the ride. She was his unwilling passenger down this dark path. She would have never imagined him this way in school. Her mind filled with images of him back then. All the missed chances were so crystal clear to her of how she could have been nicer, more of a human to him. No. She had to push him down to make herself such a bigger person than him. Now who was being pushed down, she asked herself.

He moved his foot, and her face felt a slight bit of cool air where his foot has just been. She reached over feeling the pattern along her skin. Enraged, she wanted to get up, but he quickly put a stop to that notion. Of course I’m crying you mother fucker! You just beat my ass as if you were my father, and to make it worse, you probably got off on it! You’re a sick son of a bitch, and I hope you rot wherever you end up after this. Of course, thinking better of voicing such thoughts, she tried to put an end to her sobs as he seemed to find some perverse pleasure in taunting her about her lack of control over her emotions. She tried to fight him, but once more, as it would seem to be the flavor of the night, he was far stronger than she. He made short work of pinning her arms together securely with the belt. Even in that state, she still struggled despite the pain that settled quickly in her shoulder. Every tug, every turn, the dull ache only seemed to grow more. This man is a psycho, but he clearly has the upper hand. Even if I get free, the door is still locked. I would have to totally render him unable to do anything before I could even think about calling out. Even then, what if the phones don’t work for some strange reason? I’m trapped here with nut boy and his crazy belt. I have to play his game now.

She stopped struggling just as he began a new rant. I am not a wimp! I am a victim. You’re victim you overweight, pathetic, crazy son of a bitch! Don’t worry though. I’ll make sure to ask them to give you a bed right next to a man just as crazy as you who wants to fuck you! Her thoughts her own private sanctuary right now, she let her thoughts run wild. It was the only thing keeping her grounded, centered at the moment. She cringed and closes her eyes as his spit hit her face. Her stomach churned, and she wanted to vomit. Swallowing back hard on it, with her arms tightly behind her back, she couldn’t even afford herself the luxury of wiping it off. No. This was insult to her, and she literally had to bite her tongue. You will pay for this you sick, twisted freak. Make no mistake. I don’t have a pimp! Don’t you know anything about the agency I work for? Clearly not. He probably picked up his previous calls girls in the junk food aisle at the local store. Two for one special and they probably gave him something he had to get a shot to get rid of! He was hoisting her up to her feet, but for what reason she didn’t even want to dare to imagine. With his fingers to her throat, she was certain he was going to kill her. This is it. He’s going to choke me to death. His fingers pressed in, and she closed her eyes waiting everything to slowly fade. Her thoughts quickly shifted as he bent her over. No? He’s going to fuck me! I’d rather you kill me! Please! Choke me! I don’t want your nasty cock inside me you pervert! She had no choice but to follow him like a dog on a leash. The humiliation of the scene rang true when she noticed her panties on the floor around her ankles. There was no dignity in being lead around like this. Her eyes closed tightly for a moment as she reassured herself she would get him in the end for this.

He had been talking the entire time, but it wasn’t until now that she started to listen to him. He’s spewing out this hate because he was jealous of them. That’s it. He’s still a scared, little, jealous, nerd. The only difference is he’s in charge now. Those words hung heavy in her mind. She repeated them over and over again. He’s in charge now. “Alright,” she yelled out as his grip was becoming too much for her to bear. She forced a smile. “I’m smiling.” She trembled at the thought of begging him to fuck her, and try as she might; it was just not within her. “Fuck you! Are you fucking mad! Go to hell! You might have me now, but you don’t have me! Don’t you get it? Don’t you see the difference? The only way you could have me is to buy me and force me. That’s pathetic. I guess you fish with the fish in tank too don’t you? Now let me go James! Keep your damn money!”

He opened the door to the bathroom by banging the head of the limp doll he was dragging around into it. Behind the door the bathroom was all set up for what could have been a nice romantic date - burgundy candles burning with a sweet aroma, a steaming bubble bath waiting for what was suppose to have been equally steaming sex, even a silver bowl with strawberries and chocolate pralines with a large bouquet of red roses in a crystal vase next to it on a small table next to the bath tub. It was every girls dream for a romantic anniversary, were it not for the pantie-less sobbing mess of a girl that was being pushed into the room.

James grabbed around Tess throat with both hands, squeezing just hard enough for her only to be barely able to breath. With that grip he lifted her up until she was standing on her tip toes, but he still had to look down to be able to see into her blue eyes. A cold determination had replaced the unrestrained anger that had ravaged him earlier. Even though the sweat was still glistering on his forehead, he breathed calmly now and his lineament were carved in stone just like you would expect on an experienced business executive. "You still don't get it Tess, do you?" he asked with an disdainful voice. "I have no interest in wooing you, buying you flowers and shit. Why would I want to date a fucking bimbo like you? A barbie doll would make more interesting conversation." He chuckled at his own remark, an annoying habit he seemed to have. "All I want from you is three holes to fuck, because that is all you have to offer. And that I can get buy paying you less than I make while on coffee brake."

With those words he hurled her petite body away like it were nothing but a rag doll, throwing her down so she landed with her bottom on the cold tiles of the floor. Her head banged into the little table, toppling the strawberries and the chocolate and the roses over into the bath where they bobbed up and down in the backwash from the crash.

Sometime during the hustle the music had stopped - Herr Francek and his orchestra had reached the end of the symphony - but James continued to whistle the melody of the waltz in a bright major scale. Not letting her rest for long on the floor, he grabbed her hair and pulled her up onto her knees, just to bend her body over the side of the bath tub so her thighs were pressed against the cold metal of the fashionably black bath tub and her face hovered just above the foamy surface of the water, held in place by his firm grip.

Bent forward, with her dress still pushed up over her ass and her panties lost somewhere on the way to the bathroom she gave him a marvelous view of her sex. Still whistling, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his already fully erect cock. He was not one to brag about such a thing, but both of the two previous prostitutes he had had the dubious pleasure of meeting had complained about it's size. The first one was not able to get it all inside her pussy when she tried to ride him - "It's to thick!" she had concluded - and the second one had just shaken her head and refused even though he had payed extra for anal that time. But this time the hooker would not be in a position to protest.

First he slowly slid the head of his hard member up and down between her pussy lips, but just as he was about to plunge it in he changed his mind. He had always wanted to try anal, in high school that and Tess was all he had thought about while he jerked off. Now he had the opportunity to try out both at the same time. Why wait? He pressed his warm cock in between her ass cheeks instead, just gently poking at the entrance to her back ally, and asked: "Are you ready, slut?"

She definitive groan as her head collided with the door. There was no kindness, no mercy, not even a shred of humanity in how he went about man handling her. He would treat an animal with more kindness, she thought. Taken aback by his grip on her throat, the firm hold, and being hoisted to her tip toes, she still had no idea what this man had in store for her. She had to focus to simply breathe. Short, drawn out breaths were all she could take. Just breathe, she kept chanting in her mind. He didn’t seem to understand that what she had, the three holes he spoke of, were not for sale, and if he took them, it would be just that. His comments only seemed to be growing more hurtful, and she couldn’t help but feel a slight touch of guilt. She had made him feel this useless all those years ago. She couldn’t get over the fact that she had pushed him to this. Her? Of all people in the world, he had some weird, stalker fetish with her, and because he couldn’t have her, because she hurt his feeling so many years ago, he was exacting some kind of revenge by abusing her physically and verbally. Again thoughts of how truly sick he were began to sink in further, with more meaning to her. It became even more apparent, more urgent in her mind she had to play his game if she wanted to be in one piece when he let her go. So as he ran his mouth, dumping all his hate on her, she would simply try to take it with a grain of salt as the musings of psycho. Since he wanted to fuck her, she would go that place in her mind she always went to. She would take his money, and she would tune him as she did all her clients. Her mind already running through almost a checklist that she had put into place years ago.

Feeling helpless, she could not brace herself in the slightest for the fall as he shoved her away, discarding her as if she were nothing but common trash. Her head bouncing from the impact of the table, she thought she would black out for a moment. Everything seemed slightly hazy and somewhat dim, but the pain reaching around her head pulled her back. Play his game, she thought. Play his game, or he’s going to kill you.

That music would forever be burned into her mind. After she left here, she never wanted to hear it again. Under his forceful grasp she found herself bent over the bath and face to face with the water filling the tub. She could feel her pussy exposed, and a blush spread over her face as she was certain he was starring. Her smooth, velvety soft pussy lips slightly moist from the entire experience. Her clit barely seen at the apex between her folds was tingling and alive. She was amazed. Why was she aroused by this? She held such hatred for James at this point, and he was being as rough with her as he wanted. Her pussy was slightly wet though. She tried to remain calm and collected as she starred into the water hoping he would not notice. If he notices, I’ll never hear the end of it. He’ll be certain it’s because of him, and nothing could be further from the truth. It’s because I’m thinking about this like any other job. That’s the reason. My body is already reacting to him because I’m sending out the proper signals. Like always. Don’t flatter yourself crazy boy. It is not you. Focus Tessa. Play his game. Keep your mouth shut. You want to live don’t you? She literally bite her own tongue to keep from saying anything that would only make her predicament worse. His tip traced down her glistening slit, and she wanted to close her eyes. Had her face not been so close to the water, she would have. Here he goes. He’s going to do it. Get ready. Ready. Wait for it. You are not here Tessa. You are somewhere else. Somewhere happy. He stopped, and so did her thoughts. She wanted to look over her shoulder at him and ask him if he chickened out. Don’t you have the balls to fuck me? You go through all this to get me in here, and you don’t even have the balls to fuck me? You useless, pathetic, waste of skin and breath! A smile played on her lips at the very thought he was too much of a pussy to take hers’, but there he was pressing on her asshole. No! He’s going to fuck me there! Shit! Her smile dropped, her face paled, and she swallowed hard. Sure she had done anal, but there were certain things one does before simply shoving their dick up your ass. Most of her clients wanted to finger her, stick their tongue up her ass, something to loosen her up. If nothing else, they would at least use some kind of lube. He was attempting to dry fuck her ass. That was one of the most painful; cruel was to take a woman’s tight opening. She stilled starring at the water, knowing that if she opened her mouth, she was sure of what he would do. Then came the question that her mind was screaming no as an answer to, but sadly, with a heavy heart, fresh tears streaming down her face, and a shaky, cracked voice she replied, “Yes. Please. Fuck my ass.” Even though he couldn’t see, she forced that smile he had mentioned before. I have to play your game. I will play your game. She felt a small part inside of her breaking, shattering as she had no choice but to give in to him and his torture, his twisted desires.

"That's better." he said contentedly. "Don't you see how much more fun it is when you're a good girl and do as you are told instead of keeping up that snarky attitude?" Again his voice was that of a school teacher, condescendingly praising the bad girl who finally handed in her late homework. "Now, take a deep breath. Do you feel that? That fresh feeling in your lungs? That is oxygen. From now on, oxygen is a privilege you will have to earn. And you will earn it by telling me what a dirty little girl you are and how much you want me to keep fucking you. Be creative. Amuse me. I know you can do it, it is what a whore is trained to do, right?" One of the red roses slowly floated by though the narrow field of vision that he allowed her. "The second I get bored of your dirty talking, you will loose your right to breath. Get it, slut?"

The next second two things happened simultaneously. First, her head was ruthlessly pushed down into the lukewarm water by his firm hand. The chocolate pralines lay scattered on the bottom of the tub, right under her nose. Second, he used all of his force to ram his thick cock down her tight and dry asshole. Her thighs were squeezed against the cold metal of the bath tub so hard blood almost stopped flowing to her toes, but despite the overwhelming force he did not manage to sink more than the head of his cock into her tender opening. Perhaps I should have used lube, he thought. But no. In his teenage fantasies he had never wasted time on lube, he had just fucked that bitch. And this was all about realizing fantasies, right?

Without letting her head move an inch closer to the surface he made a second attempt. This time he put one foot up on the edge of the tub so that he could put all of his weight behind the slam. Given the fact that he had let his belly grow with his appetite over the years that was a considerable help, but still he only managed to get another pair of inches in. A rush of adrenaline went through his body as he felt her torn up ring muscle massage his cock as it reflexively tried to expel the intruder. Already her asshole was stretched wide to accommodate him, and it would have to stretch wider if he was to push all of his shaft into her petite body. Growling he started to hump her ass, gaining only half an inch with every thrust, but still steadily making progress.

With his foreskin pulled back by the tight grip of her narrow rear entrance every slight movement, every spastic contraction of her butthole, sent waves of sensations from his sensitive cock. The feeling was so overwhelming that he completely lost track of time, and only when his balls finally slapped against her pussy did he realize that it perhaps was time to let the girl he was fucking breath again. How long had she been under the surface? He had no idea. Brushing away that irrelevant question he slowly pulled his dick almost all the way out. Now, with her hole expanded by his purposeful drilling, he could slam it all the way down again with only one go. He let out an ecstatic groan as he started to pound her spindly body rhythmically, puling out slow every time just to force his cock back in with a fast and hard thrust.

Only then did he pull the distressed girls head up by her wet, golden hair. "Talk, bitch." he commanded.

She nodded despite his attitude, his tone. It was not one she cared for, but she kept reminding herself to play his game. Her eyes darted around wildly at his talk about the oxygen. No, she thought. He’s going to do it! He’s going to push my head in this water! He’ll kill me! I’m going to die! A privilege? No it’s not. It’s something that is required for life! If it is not present, a person dies. Don’t you know that? Her breathing increased as she tried to take in as much air as she could for at any second he could plunge her head under the water right under her nose. She wanted to cry. No. You can’t cry. You have to get a grip. You can’t waste time crying. You have to make sure you have a deep breath always. Come on Tessa. You can do this. Oh please don’t kill me James. Oh please. I’m begging you. “Yes James,” she responded barely containing her fear.

Without warning, her worst fear became a reality. Her head splashed through the water so fast, she didn’t even have time to close her eyes. Her nose could feel something, but she wasn’t sure exactly what is was. A stabbing pain ripped through her ass as he attempted to impale her with his cock. Fuck! He’s huge! She screamed to no avail. Her legs feeling the dull, almost slicing feel of the metal. My legs! He’s going to cut me! Her mind raced with a thousand wild thoughts, and the most prevalent one was the ever clear fact she had wasted so much of her precious air screaming when he tried to slam his cock inside her ass.

The pressing pain returned, and she bit her lip hard drawing blood this time to keep from yelling. She would not waste what little air she had left. With every movement, every thrust from him body, she could feel her ass being ripped, torn, and shredded by his thick cock. She was certain there would be blood. I’ll never be the same there. He’s going to hold me down until he tears my ass apart. Even if she could breath, the pain was so unbearable; her lungs would not be able to draw fresh air in. Relax your ass. Try to make it easier for him. Don’t fight him. Come on Tessa. You are not dying here. Not like this. Just get it all in there James! Get this over with! Push! Despite the pain it would cause, she was willing him to keep pushing. The sooner it, whatever milestone he had clearly set in his mind was achieved, she could breathe.

More and more, inch by inch she felt every inch, every vein, every movement of him and his cock violating and claiming her ass. There was nothing she could do. I am his helpless fuckdoll, and he’s going to kill me. There was a darkness creeping. She could feel it. She was going to pass out. I’m going to die. This is it. The very thing that came to her mind was her younger sister. She hadn’t seen Cammie in such a long time, and now she never would. She didn’t think back to her days in school with James. Her days with Cammie and her summers with her daddy filled her mind instead. She had never cared much for her mother, but the two of them were completely different. Her hands ceased and rested in the water. She opened her eyes gazing at the pralines at the bottom of the tub. That’s what that was, she thought. An odd thought to have, but perhaps one loses control of their thoughts as they’re about to die. Good, she thought. At least all of this will be over. She could still feel him pumping into her. Withdrawing slowly only to plow into her deeply, ruthlessly.

It was a shock really, and on some levels a disappointment when he pulled her head from the water. Instinctively she coughed, gasping for air. “James,” she screamed. “Please I’m begging you! Don’t let me die!” Her mind quickly working to recover and remembering what he had told her. “If I die, I can’t fuck you. You can’t fuck me. Your dick feels so good in my ass. I want to scream for you, moan for you, like I should have done back then. I was a stupid bitch then. Pound my ass James so I can groan for you. You make it hurt so good James. You’re so fucking big.” The words kept coming like a fountain. Anything she could think of that he might want to hear. Keep thinking. Keep talking. Make him happy. That’s what you have to do with every single customer. Make them happy. Make James happy. What does he want to hear? Tell him that. Tell him! She knew something he wanted to hear, but it nearly crushed her to say it. She never said those words to anyone, but here, with her life in the balance, she would. “I’m sorry James! I’m sorry I was a bitch to you. I shouldn’t have been. You have every right to hate me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Fuck my ass James! Fuck it hard! Now!”

He was chocked when he realized she actually believed he was going to kill her. He did not need to hear her pleadings for him to spare her life to understand that, it was all to clear from the desperate tone of her voice. He stopped his repetitive pounding of her ass with his dick buried deep inside her butt. He, James Finnigan, killing someone? What a ridiculous idea! He was a nice guy, he had never heart a fly! You just threw a girl to the floor and then raped her ass, a voice from somewhere deep within his thoughts reminded him. No, this is different, he thought as he revolted at the idea. She was just a stupid whore and he was only teaching her a lesson. That didn't make him a bad person, on the contrary. He was helping her. Helping her see clear, reevaluate her past actions and her present personality. She would walk away from their meeting enriched with experience.

James knew that he was lying to himself, and that angered him. To drown out all the uncomfortable thoughts in primal desire he started to fuck her again, faster this time as he worked up a frenzy to forget what he was doing. He needed something comforting... The blue laze tore like paper as his determined hands pulled the front of her dress apart. With a snatch he ripped her bra from her body without opening it, discarding the broken piece of slutty lingerie into the tub. The next seconds he had one hand on each breast, squeezing them hard, roughly pushing his fat fingers into the soft tissue, like if he was trying to meld with them, trying to pierce her skin and sink into her flesh.

Even though he knew that her panicked rambling about how sorry she was for being a bitch and how she wanted him to take her ass was just as much a lie as his own rationalizations it did encourage him to thrust harder and harder into her soar, dry hole. Every time he pulled his dick out it was coated in blood, and her butthole bulged outwards as the tight, tight muscles did not want to let go of his cock. "That's the spirit, fuckdoll." he said encouragingly. Grabbing both her nipples at the same time, he twisted them around and pulled her tits hard, stretching them out as long as he could before her hard nipples escaped his firm grip. "Good girl! And do you know what good girls get?" His hand on her pussy gave her the answer. Wasting no time, his thumb pressed down on her clit and rubbed it hard while his index and middle finger easily slid into her already wet cunt.

She was wet? While she feared for her life, he pussy was still dripping? What was wrong with this girl? Knowing he might never get an answer to that, he pushed his ring finger in as well and started to fuck her cunt fast, double the temp he was abusing her ass, with the three fingers all while his thumb kept furiously rubbing her clit. After a while he removed his fingers to smell them, and found them coated in her juices. "I don't know what's most disgusting... The fact that you let me treat you like this, or the fact that it makes your pussy wet, bitch." he said laughing, underlining the statement by pinching her clit hard.

"I think this cunt needs something bigger..." he said and scanned the room for something to fuck her with. The only thing of the right shape he could find was the toilet brush. Without hesitation he grabbed it and pushed the handle deep up her pussy in a single go. She should be happy she didn't get the other end, he thought chuckling to himself. Every time he forced his cock down her ass, he banged the brush up her pussy. "See how much better it is to be a good girl? You get your pussy fucked just like I know you love!" As he grew more and more aroused from the massage her tight sphincter gave his cock he slammed the brush harder and deeper into her, the long slim white plastic first beating on the back of her vagina and then, when her whimpering moans inspired him to ram it in even harder, it pushed into her cervix, painfully expanding it. He was pounding on her uterus, almost as if he was trying to impale her with the toilet brush.

"Go on, you filthy little cum dump!" he shouted at her, to worked up now to contain his voice. "Tell me what a fucking miserable failure you are, tell me what a disgusting piece of shit you grew up to be!"

His ruthless slams had ceased, and her eyes looked slowly to the left as far as she could. She stopped her constant string of pleading and confessions hoping he would not plunge her head back into the soapy water. He seemed to still as if contemplating his next move. What on earth he could do that was any worse, she thought. What more can he do to me in this position? Never ask anything like that Tessa. The moment you ask how much worse could it get, you find out, and most of the time, you don’t like the answer. Why should this be any different? Mad man. Bathroom. Ass being raped. Not a good combination here. She steadied her breathing as much as the situation would allow. The waltz had long stopped playing, but in her mind, she still heard it accompanying her thoughts.

Just as she was beginning to regain some sense of composure, his body began to pound into her once more. Fuck! Her mind screamed. A dry fuck was bad enough, but his dick having stilled deep inside only made her asshole even drier now. The pain was not only anew, but intensified. She knew she was bleeding. There was no doubt. He had ripped something, torn tender, delicate muscles, and he was raging once more. His thrusts seem revitalized, and he now had some new purpose. Her screams echoed from the bathroom walls. “James!” She remembered his game once more. “Fuck my ass. I want you to fuck my ass. That feels so….so….good.” Even as the tears sprang to her eyes again, she knew it was a lie. All of it was a lie, but it was all for him. A show of sorts to please the customer. In some ways, not unlike anything she had done before or would do again. The only difference was this time she was being raped.

He ripped her dress and bra with ease. Knowing her chest was exposed, she knew he would find some way to torture her further, and of course he did. His greedy fingers grabbing at her soft mounds and then pinching at her nipples, pulling, twisting, and sending new sensations of absolute agony through her. Of course she cried out to him. “Oh fuck James!” Her eyes closed tightly trying to keep her focus. Don’t yell at him. Don’t anger him. So what if you think shit has more personality, compassion, and use than he does. Just keep calm Tessa. Oh shit! He’s going to rip my nipples off. They’re going to come off in his fingers! She knew her body; her mind was not going to be the same after this.

Her shock came when he confirmed that she was doing what he wanted. She was speaking the things he wanted to hear. His thumb to her clit brought on an unexpected response. A low growl from deep within her throat as it felt incredible. “James,” she breathed. There was no pain in her tone. There was no yelling. She was enjoying it. He was fingering her, and she was aroused. Her already wet pussy seemed to become even more flooded with her juices, and she had not even cum yet. That was something, though, that she knew was going to change quickly. He worked her pussy now, sliding his fingers in with vigor. Her moans only grew with each movement in and out of her. “Oh fuck James! That feels so good!” She wasn’t lying this time. He was still abusing her ass, but she had focused on her pussy more. Her ass throbbed, but her pussy was melting. Keep doing that James. If I had known you were this good back in school, maybe things could have been different. Why did you have to be so spineless back then? Damn it James why didn’t you demand me then, take charge. Her own mind stilling at the thought as she realized she was enjoying this too much. She could not believe what she had just thought. Do I enjoy him taking control like this? No. That’s impossible. This is against my will. Stop it Tessa! Stop enjoying this amazing, talented finger fucking he’s giving you! She was dismayed at the withdrawal of his fingers, but his comment even made sense to her. Why was she so aroused from this? She whimpered out as he pinched her clit roughly putting her orgasm at bay.

She thought for a moment he was going to fuck her with his cock. It was certainly bigger than his fingers. For some reason, she smiled widely at the thought. Just as fast as she did, she wiped the smile from her face. NO! Do NOT enjoy this Tessa! What is wrong with me? Am I just as crazy as he is? “Fuck me James.” The words came with little effort really. The invasion was swift and deep. “Yes James! It is so much better to be a……good girl!” Her back ached from the brutal fucking of whatever it was he had grabbed. He was battering her pussy. The item was not completely smooth. In fact, there was clearly a rough edge to it. The more he pummeled her sex with it, shoving it savagely, deeply inside her, the more her walls began to throb and ache. What is he fucking me with? She was being lacerated internally. Shit James! Oh my! It’s starting to hurt! Stop! Her thoughts clearly unheard, he kept plowing her. Her head thrashing about as from the waist down she was nothing more than a mess of agony and misery. As if she was not enduring enough, the pain would soon be overwhelmingly stronger. He burst through her cervix, forcing her open further still. Her eyes seemed glazed, almost frozen open, and her mouth gaped with no sound.

She could hear his words, but forcing herself to speak was proving almost impossible. “I’M….A….FAILURE!” She was only repeating back what he had said, but her brain wasn’t comprehrending words. Only pain, suffering, and suffocating soreness that was ripping through her entire pelvis. “I’M….SHIT!”

Her acting skill is approving, James thought as her loud moans became more and more lust filled than pain filled, sounding like if she was genuinely trying to excite and encourage him rather than just playing the well known role of the horny but soulless porn star. Then he felt something wet running down the plastic shaft of his improvised phallus. Was she that wet? When he looked down he realized that she was bleeding from her pussy as well - the rather sharp edge of his stick must have ruptured something in there. But indeed her pushed apart pussy lips were glistering with juices, there was no question about that. She must be sick to like this, he thought, doing his best not to think about what he must be to put her through it no matter if she liked it or not.

Her response to his demand that she would verbally humiliate herself was very disappointing. The unimaginative bitch was just repeating back exactly what he told her like a brain dead parrot. Even though he had started to enjoy her moans and desperate screams - they were what had egged him on to fuck her ass faster, to ram her pussy harder - he knew he had to silence her. A rule is a rule, and the whore needed discipline more than anything else, except perhaps some lube and a condom. "I give you so much pleasure your voice is trembling, and what do I get in return? Nothing. Fuck you bitch, you just lost your right to breath." With a splash that soaked both his shirt and the walls he pushed her head down until she was bending double over the thin edge of the tub, her head banged to the bottom.

He closed his eyes and let the pleasurable chocks her spasming ass was sending through his body via his cock fill up his conscience, blocking out all other thoughts and emotions. The world disappeared into darkness around him, all that was left was the relaxing feeling of total relief. He pushed his cock balls deep into her ass one last time, keeping it there and howling to the ceiling like a wolf to the moon as he filled her rectum with shoot after shot of thick sperm.

All the energy that was released from his body had to go somewhere, so he used it in the only way he could by ramming the toilet brush even harder into her cunt. It was sinking so deep into her body, deeper than he would have thought would be anatomically possible, and inside her something seemed to be cramping onto it because he had to use his full strength just to be able to pull it out, not to mention to force it in again. Faster than ever he pounded her during his ejaculation, and then he let the wet brush fall to the floor as an exhausting feeling of consummation washed over him. When he pulled his still hard dick out of her ass, it was like he pulling a plug out of the sink - rivers of cum reddened by blood flowed down the inside of her already wet legs.

But he was not done with her yet. No. In a swirling motion he swung her legs up over the edge of the tub with his arm, dumping her whole body into the water like a bag of trash into a container. Letting go of her hair, he spun her around so she had her face up, and then pinned her down by putting a fat hand on her throat. Some of the roses became trapped between her back tied arms and the bottom of the tub, their thorns piercing her skin and decorating it with curved lines or blood red dots.

Most of the foam had dissipated by now, so he could see her face under the water, even though distorted by the sloshing water. He stared down at her, the stern expression on his face and the coldness in his eyes giving worrying hints of his intentions with keeping her down under the surface. Without a word he stuck his other hand down into the water. It quickly found its way in between her legs, and a second later his thumb was ruthlessly rubbing her clit again while three fingers dived into her pussy. There were nothing erotic or teasing with his treatment of her love hole, he was simply brutally stimulating it for maximum effect without the romantic playfulness of a lover. His intense finger fuck was more like the work of a machine than a man.

Not for a second did he brake eye contact with her. He wanted to see her anguish as he filled her body with pleasure while he slowly depleted it's oxygen. He wondered if she would orgasm or black out first, but in the end that would matter because he had no intention of letting her up before her eyelids closed over those pretty blue eyes.