by Jade West
“It isn’t.”
She smiled as Casey jumped up to lick her face, fussing her round the ears. It made me feel funny inside, hot and churned up. I looked at her as I smoked my roll-up, the posh little suit she was wearing, her clean white blouse. She looked so fresh, so proper. She didn’t belong in this place. Didn’t belong here, with me.
“Why d’you do it? This shitty job?”
She looked up at me, eyes soft. “To make a difference.”
“Can’t make a difference round here. Place is rotten.”
“You can always make a difference, if you care enough.”
“Dunno about that.” I smiled a bit. “Be careful, estate manager. Nearly got yourself proper beat up back there.”
“Those men. You gave them money. Why?”
I scowled. “Don’t matter.”
“Are you in trouble?” Her expression was well-meaning, but it pissed me off all the same. I ignored her, staring over her head until she got to her feet. “Fine. Sorry I cared.”
She patted Casey goodbye and took off back the way she came, all haughty with angry little steps. This time it was me who leapt after her and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her so fast she lost her balance and toppled into me, slamming into my chest as Casey danced all around us.
“I ain’t involved with those wankers, don’t want nothing to do with them,” I snapped. “I was helping a mate, that’s all.”
She didn’t move, didn’t pull away. She smelt so good again, so fucking clean. It made me feel like a piece of crap, still in the same tatty clothes from the weekend and well overdue a fucking wash.
“A friend?”
“A mate, yeah.”
“Your girlfriend? Vicki?”
There was colour in her cheeks, same as in that hotel room. “Ain’t got a girlfriend. Vick’s a mate.”
Her eyes were sparkly, big pupils. “Will you come with me again?” she whispered.
“Eh?”
“To the hotel... I’ll pay you, just the same as last time.”
My brain said fucking take it, but my heart weren’t so sure. “I dunno.”
“It’ll be just like last time, I promise. I can relax when you’re there...”
“Same guy?”
“Probably.”
I pushed her away, keeping hold of her shoulders until she was steady. I wanted to say no, tell her to fuck off and find another chump to sit around and listen to her getting fucked, but I couldn’t do it. Vick needed the cash.
“When?”
“Saturday. Same place.”
I sighed, admitting defeat. “Aye, alright then.”
She smiled, really fucking happy. It made me feel fucking sick to the stomach.
“I’ll see you there.”
She took off before I could change my mind.
***
Hot water felt so good on my skin. I soaped myself quick to save Vick’s electric, but held on a minute longer, just to enjoy the heat. She’d raised an eyebrow when she’d put my clothes through the washer, questions heavy in the air. It was all drying now, on the radiator. Still looked shit, but at least I’d be clean. I stepped out, slinging Vicki’s pink towel round my hips and wiping steam from the mirror.
My stubble was more of a beard than a shadow. I rooted through the cabinet until I found a razor, trimmed it back short.
“Ain’t using them clippers are ya? Use them for me pubes,” Vicki barked from the landing.
I opened the door a crack. “Hope I ain’t caught your stinky fucking crabs.”
She slapped my arm. “Ain’t nothing wrong with my bits, Callum Jackson.”
“Take your word for it,” I smiled.
Vicki’s eyes were all over me, following the line of hair down from my belly button. “Where’s she dragging you to this week? The bloody Ritz?”
I shrugged. “Wherever she wants, she’s paying.”
“Wish you didn’t have to go, Cal.” She folded her arms. “She’s after summat. A shag probably.”
“Doubt it. Ain’t likely to be her type.”
“She’s yours, though, ent she? Now you’re into blondes.”
I moved back to the mirror, checking out my reflection. Would have to do. I picked up a can of deodorant, sprayed under my arms as she watched. “It’s a job. Stoneys want their cash.”
She came inside, closed the door behind her. “I’m sorry, Cal, ‘bout all this.”
“We’re mates, yeah? We look out for each other.”
“Mates. Yeah.” Her smile was sad. I hate that smile. I reached past her for my clothes, and she made no move to leave. “When this is all over, maybe me and you could go down Scotty’s, get some more ink.”
I turned my back to her, pointed to my shoulder. “I want a picture of Case done, here. Gonna draw one. Tribal, like.”
“Sweet.” She pulled her top down, showing me way too much tit. “I want something here. Draw something for me, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I yanked a t-shirt over my head, then pulled my jeans on quick, showing her my ass but not much else. “Gotta go, Vick. Don’t wanna be late.”
I grabbed my hoodie on the way out.
“You look good, Cal,” she smiled. “I’ll see you later.”
My stomach churned. Guilt. “Nah, Vick, don’t wait up. Dunno how long I’ll be.” I pulled her into my side, ruffled her hair. “Look after Case, alright.”
She grabbed hold of me, arms around my ribs.
I felt so fucking tight for pulling away.
***
Sophie
I walked quickly, thoughts racing as the hotel came into view. My suitcase rumbled along the pavement, making it so bloody obvious I was coming.
I wondered if he was there already, watching. All week I’d been thinking about him. Literally, all fucking week. His eyes as he’d sprung from the shadows, so wild, like he’d tear me limb from limb. He could have done, could have snapped my neck in a heartbeat, thrown me to the ground and kicked the shit out of me. Or slammed me into the wall and... and... fucked me... really fucking hard.
I was officially crazy. Even Raven said so. I smiled at the memory, of her untangling the Roger-Callum threads over wine at hers.
Let me get this straight. You’re using Mr Dangerous to bait Mr Super-fucking-dangerous? You’re crazy, baby. Make sure this shit doesn’t end in the wrong kind of tears.
She knew where I was headed, had extracted promises upon promises on pain of death that I’d check in when it was over. Taking address details, and times, and even bookmarking Roger’s Edgeplay profile on her mobile. She’d be at Explicit, she said, phone close by, where I’d be too if I had any sense.
Roger had taken some convincing, not entirely game for another session after the washout last time. I’d offered to beg and no doubt he’d hold me to it. I owed him a good time, he said. I imagined he’d tan my backside good and proper for my cheek.
I waited outside the main entrance, eyes scanning the edge of Kensington Gardens. Callum Jackson didn’t approach from that direction this time. He stepped out of the shadows at the side of the building, towering over me without warning.
“Thank you for coming.” My voice was too bright, and way too professional.
“Same deal, yeah? We go up, he comes in.”
“Yeah. Same deal.”
He led the way in, skulking straight over to the lifts. I watched him as I checked in. He was so uncomfortable in this place. Can’t say I’d be any different in his position.
We took the lift in silence, air heavy as I opened the door to our suite. He took the case on through to the bedroom, then he paced, slowly, eyes anywhere but on me.
I slipped off my coat, wishing he’d just fucking look at me. I’d dressed to impress... impress Roger, impress him... I wasn’t even sure anymore. My dress had ridden high, barely covering my ass. I smoothed it down, checking my suspenders were still in place. I’d chosen purple this time, a deep, dark PVC, with buckles all the way up the front. I’d been happy in my ap
artment, happy that I looked the part and that maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to make an impression. Finally Callum’s eyes landed in my direction.
“Do I look ok?” I chanced.
“Like him, do you?”
“No. Well... not like that.”
“Why you here, then?”
“For the pain,” I answered simply. “I like his hands a lot more than him.”
“Fair enough.”
Callum was straight to the door when Roger knocked. He blocked the way for what felt like an age, glaring before stepping aside. Roger shot me a look, raising his eyebrows before heading straight through to the bedroom. His expression was brutal, suit already straining with his hard on.
“Strip,” he said. “All of it.”
I reached for the first buckle, moving as gracefully as possible, but he shook his head.
“Out there.”
“Sorry?”
“You heard me. I want you to go out there, take off all your clothes, and walk back in through that door naked. Naked.”
“Don’t be stupid,” I hissed. “Callum.”
He smirked. “Get with the plot, sweetheart. I want him to see what tender fucking meat I’m feasting on. He may have come up trumps last week, but this is round two.”
“Come on, Roger, let’s play another game...” I stammered. “I’ll do you a striptease, whatever you want.”
His expression didn’t lighten. “I’m the main act tonight, and I want that loser out there to know it.”
Shit. My heart thumped, stomach churning. I thought about calling it off, wimping out and leaving them both to it. I could head over to Explicit, hook back up with Cain and drink cocktails with Raven. So what if Cain was slack with the bondage? Maybe it is better to play with the devils you know.
Roger waited, unflinching. My hand was shaking so hard I could hardly turn the door handle.
Callum was leant against the far wall staring right at me. I could barely get my words out, and when I did they were weak and flaky.
“Sorry... I’m, um... Roger wants me to...” I turned my back to him, darting a glance over my shoulder as I began to undress. His eyes flew wide, wild, just like they’d been in the alleyway. I kept going, freeing enough of the buckles that my dress dropped to the floor. “Just turn away or something.”
He didn’t turn away. I could feel him staring, eyes scorching my back. I unclipped my suspender belt, tossed it to the side, then stepped out of my heels, pulled my stockings from my feet. My panties came off last. I held my breath as I slid them down, shaking like a fucking leaf, then gathered my clothes up in a flurry and flung them onto a chair. I covered myself up best I could with my arms, a truly pathetic attempt at modesty.
“Sorry, Callum... I’m really sorry about this.”
I dashed back to the bedroom, hissing out embarrassment as I closed the door behind me.
Roger had a cocky half-smile on his face. “Just as I thought.”
He finished up taking my toys from the suitcase.
“What?”
“Wish you’d get that worked up when you stripped in front of me.”
“I hardly know him.”
“Hardly know me, either.” He brandished a flogger. “Wake up to yourself, sweetheart. You’re dripping fucking wet for him. Think I wouldn’t know I’m being played?”
I watched the flogger, skin tingling in anticipation. “Punish me, then...” I whispered.
“I intend to.” He closed the gap between us, spinning me around and slamming me against the door. “He’ll hear this.”
The flogger was vicious in Roger’s hands. He swung hard, fast, curling the tails around my ribs to sting tender skin. I took it, all of it, breathing through the pain and rocking on my heels. Once he was done, he pressed up against me, slapping me hard on the ass with heavy palms. The force made the door rattle, and I groaned against the wood.
“I bet you want him in here. His scabby cock in your shithole. He’d probably tear you a new one, an animal like that, fuck you till you bleed. Maybe I should call him in, let him fuck you up. Maybe we could share you, him and me, plenty of holes to go around.”
“Fuck, Roger... just fucking hit me...”
“My fucking pleasure, sweetheart.”
He slapped me with everything he had, and I groaned at the burn; the gorgeous tingle of skin as his palms coloured me pink. His arm was heavy across my shoulder blades, holding me tight against the door, the rattling catch the only barrier between me and the savage beyond. My tits mashed tight into the woodwork, the doorframe creaking with every strike. Roger dropped to his knees, slavering over my ass cheeks. I squirmed as he pulled them apart, burying his nose between my thighs.
It felt icky. Dirty. I felt dirty.
“Hurt me, Roger... the flogger again, please...”
He got to his feet, pressed his mouth to my ear. “No more flogger, sweetheart. Tell me you want me.”
“I... just... more spanking, Roger, please...”
“You’re a dirty fucking prick tease.”
“I want pain...”
“I’ll not be leaving with blue fucking balls again this week. I’m down two hundred quid for this fucking suite. Hot, wet cunt is the only currency I take.” His laugh was grimy.
Reality raised its ugly fucking head and came up to bite me. Raven was right. Using Mr Dangerous to bait Mr super-fucking-dangerous was a stupid fucking plan. I’d been so busy thinking about Callum Jackson that I hadn’t given a second thought to the sadist in the room with me. Hadn’t thought whether I really wanted his cock in my ass, in my pussy, wherever he fucking wanted it.
I didn’t want it.
I didn’t want him.
So, why was I still fucking horny?
I eyed him over my shoulder, stomach lurching as I saw his twisted smile. “Give me that sweet juicy cunt you dirty bitch.”
I heard him unbuckle his belt, pockets rustling. The tear of a packet, a grunt as he slapped his cock against my ass. I tried to back him up but he wouldn’t shift.
“Roger... I don’t...”
“You do...” His cock was slimy in my ass crack. “You want this, Missy. We both know it.”
“He’s out there... I could call...”
Roger’s mouth on my neck, cock paused against my slit. “Take what you’re given like a good girl. I know you like this shit... you told me, remember? I need a guy who’ll just take me... a guy who’s not scared to take what he wants when he wants it.”
I flinched at the memory, how hot the idea had seemed with a vibrator against my fucking clit.
I clenched myself against his intrusion, twisting away from the wet tongue in my ear. “It was a fantasy, Roger...”
“Open that hot little slit for me, dirty girl.”
I squirmed against the door. “I could call for him...”
“It’s me who’s in charge here.” He forced his fingers around my thigh, pinching at my clit. My knees juddered, my body betraying me. My legs opened for him, just an inch.
I whimpered, brain spinning, hating myself for wanting this.
“Call him, sweetheart. Call him or give me your filthy little fuck hole...”
I gasped, gripped in no-man’s land, veering between outcomes.
But it didn’t matter.
The decision was made for me.
***
Callum
They both went fucking flying. That bastard, Roger, went further, crashing all the way back into the four poster, trousers round his fucking ankles, his cock bobbing. His glasses tumbled, bouncing to the floor before he could catch them. Sophie was down on her ass, rubbing her forehead where the door had smacked into her, but I didn’t have time to give a shit about that right now.
I was on him in a flash, landing a solid punch right into his cheekbone. I got him good, and landed another, crunching my knuckles into his fucking teeth. He raised his hands, squealing like a fucking pig.
“Stop! For fuck’s sake! It’s a fucking game! A
game!”
I kneed him in the ribs and he doubled over, sinking down to the floor as he gulped for breath. I went for Sophie, dragged her to her feet.
“You alright?”
She nodded. “Fine. I’m fine. Totally fine.”
“Tell the stupid sonofabitch!” Roger wheezed. “It was just a fucking game!”
I lunged for him again, ready to kick him where it fucking hurts, but Sophie grabbed my arm. “Jesus, Callum, stop! Stop!”
I gripped her shoulders, spitting rage. “He was gonna fucking rape you!”
“He didn’t! He wasn’t...”
I shoved her backwards, soaking in the marks on her body. She was pink and white, dark lines curling under her tits from where he’d beaten her. Her thighs were rosy, they were wet too, she was fucking wet. I put my hands in my hair, reeling. “You wanted that? For fucking real?”
“No... yes... no!”
“She wanted it,” Roger grunted. “She likes rape play. She’s playing us both for bloody fools.”
My eyes sliced into her. “That true?”
“In fantasy... shit.” She stepped over Roger, darting to the bathroom for a towel. I stared as she wrapped herself up. “I said wait to out there! I said I’d call if I needed you!”
“Sounded like I was fucking needed!” I stalked over to the sack of shit on the floor. “Rapist cunt.”
His jaw was already swelling, gums bleeding around his teeth. He turned to Sophie and I fought the urge to kick his fucking head in.
“Nice.” He wiped his face with his sleeve. “This is what happens when you use dumb, fucking meatheads for security.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I growled. “Before I tear your fucking dick off.”
Sophie nodded, to which he shrugged and staggered to his feet, holding his ribs where I’d kneed him. He pulled his clothes back on, scowling the whole fucking time, then reached for his glasses, flinching as he sat them on his pudgy fucking face. I followed him out, watched him until the lift doors took him from view. Piece of fucking shit.
Sophie was perched on the bed when I went back in, face in her hands.
“I’m sorry...” she rasped. “This was a bad idea.”
