Cindersmellya: A Dark Comedy Fairytale Romance

by Alexis Angel

  Gerard is sitting next to me and Luca Giannoni and his employer, Dimitry Mozorov are sitting across from me. Mozorov is red-faced from the vodka he’s been drinking and with his dark suit with red tie and grey hair on his portly body he looks like a fucking corporate Russian Santa Clause.

  “Ever since Luca here told me about your late father’s empire, the Simulated Pleasures business is one that’s caught my eye,” Mozorov is saying with a thick Russian accent. “I’ve looked at the 90 day charts and I’m impressed at how this small operation has such high margins, Mr. Hawke. You should be commended.”

  I take a sip of my scotch and laugh sardonically. Sure, I should be fucking commended. For causing the love of my life to quit the job she was using to get on her feet and then selling it off to mobsters after she left. I’m a real fucking saint.

  “How about we wait until after dinner to sign the papers?” Gerard asks the table and I look at him with surprise. This is the same guy that several days ago was asking me why I was dragging my fucking feet?

  Mozorov shrugs. “Whether we eat first or eat later makes no difference to me,” he says, grinning and rubbing his hands together. “Tomorrow morning, we will be new owners of Simulated Pleasures and a new day will dawn for the callers.”

  “What is it that you plan to do?” I ask, more out of morbid curiousity than anything else.

  Mozorov looks at Giannoni and nods.

  “Since it doesn’t matter much if we tell you now that you’re going to sell, we can be a bit more upfront with our plans,” the lawyer says. “We plan to cut the percentages that the operators make in half,” Giannoni says to me, taking a sip of his wine. “Then after a period of time, we play to make them salaried workers.”

  “How do you know they’ll stay?” I ask.

  “We plan to start them off with lucrative contracts that they agree to, with steep payments to the company if they decide to quit,” Mozorov answers for him. “It will work similar to the way your gentlemen’s clubs operate eventually, where we’ll just provide the infrastructure and expect them to pay us to use our services.”

  “The operators will be responsible for advertising themselves and doing their own promotion, significantly lowering the total costs to the company,” Luca Giannoni says as he drains his wine. “And should the operators not be able to turn a profit for themselves, the only way they’ll get out will be through a sizable payment to the company to break their contract.”

  They’re going to fucking prey on the women doing the work. Not on the johns. But the women. Jesus fucking Christ.

  But there’s nothing I can do, unless I pull out of this deal. I’ve effectively screwed over the entire company. I don't even know how many women are working as phone sex operators. I never cared. I just wanted to get rid of the operation so blindly that I never thought there was a human element to it.

  I look over at Gerard. Somehow, despite the fact that what Luca Giannoni described as a form of employment extortion, he doesn't seem too troubled; it’s like the man has suddenly lost touch with his fucking conscience. Doesn’t he fucking care that while we eat beef tartare and drink wine we’re coming up with a deal that will screw over countless hardworking women all over the city?

  “Is any of this fucking legal?” I ask out, not caring anymore.

  Mozorov shrugs. “Who cares,” he says with a shrug and a grin. “If we get in trouble we just cancel all the contracts and close up shop. Guaranteed by then we’ll have turned a tidy profit.”

  Jesus. These organized crime people should start working on Wall Street if they haven’t already. They’re both fucking snakes in the grass.

  Sorry, I’m just in a fucking awful mood. It’s like life has me by the balls and is squeezing as hard as it fucking can.

  I take a sip of my scotch and stare out the window.

  “Actually, Mr. Mozorov, I don’t think you’ll be successful at what you’re proposing,” a voice says and I turn my head toward it.

  What the fuck! It can’t be.

  All of us have turned to the fucking angel standing in front of us, dressed in a tight white skirt and black top that shows off her tits. She’s made up to look like a fucking doll and just seeing her makes my cock twitch in my pants. She extends her arm toward Mozorov.

  “Ashley Lane, formerly of Simulated Pleasures,” she says to Mozorov. “May I sit down?”

  Hand it to Mozorov, he rolls with the fucking punches and takes Ashley’s hand and gently brings it to his lips. “Pleasure to meet you, young lady,” he says as Gerard rushes out of his chair and ushers her in to sit next to me. Gerard gets another chair and sits down. And did I just see a look pass by between him and Ashley? But they’ve never talked before, so it couldn’t matter.

  Ashley turns to me. “How’ve you been, Arsen?” she asks me.

  I give her my cockiest, smirkiest smile, trying to act cool.

  “That good, huh?” Ashley asks sarcastically. Fuck, she’s here to bust my balls too, I guess.

  But out of nowhere, she reaches over and takes my hand in hers. I look down to see this and when I look back at her, she’s smiling.

  But it doesn’t last. She turns toward Luca Giannoni and Mozorov and begins to speak.

  “Gentlemen, I know you’re wondering what I’m doing here in the first place,” she says and smiles at them. They can’t help but grin like dirty old men looking at her. “And the truth is I needed to tell you something that if I didn't would probably mean you would be buying this company without all the facts.”

  Now both men are interested. They lean in.

  “The fact of the matter is, that I started work at Simulated Pleasures about three months ago,” Ashley says. “I used to be a dancer at Scorcher's, but I wanted something where I didn’t have to take off my clothes. And before you say anything, yes I went to college. But I got a degree in Art History.”

  “Ah, that makes a lot of sense,” Gerard says and Ashley gives him a look of annoyance at his subtle put down of her degree. I can’t help but crack a smile.

  “At the same time, I met Arsen maybe a few days before I started working at the company,” she says.

  Both men nod, waiting for her to continue.

  “Here’s something you don’t know about the two of us,” Ashley says and leans in as if telling them a secret. “Arsen used to call in and talk to me on the pay-per-minute line.”

  Mozorov doesn’t understand. “Why couldn't he just call you directly?” he asks.

  Ashley shakes her head. “He didn't want me to know it was him,” she says. “And I didn’t. I knew him as King Henry. And he hid his identity from me.”

  Mozorov looks at me. “Why would you do something like that?”

  I shrug. “She didn't want to date a bad boy at the time and I wanted to fuck her,” I say, wondering if he’ll understand. “When at first she wouldn't give me the time of day, it’s the only thing I could think of to still talk to her. It just kind of took on a life of its own, I guess.

  The Russian gangster stares at me for a second. Then he nods. “I guess kind of sweet, no?” he asks Ashley, turning to her.

  “At first I was mad that he lied to me,” Ashley admits and then pauses to look at me. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realize it was just another side of him that I was falling in love with.”

  Now it's my turn to fucking freeze. Is this really happening?

  “And while it took me a while to make peace with it, gentlemen, the thing you have to understand is that the time Arsen spoke to me added to my totals. And so the program automatically sent me more people to talk to because it thought I was that good—able to keep people on the line for a long time. And I was so hot from talking to him, maybe I was actually able to keep people paying.”

  “So…all the profitability that we see, is because of the two of you?” Luca Giannoni asks, starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

  Ashley nods and I jump in, ready to make the final sale.

  “Ma
ybe it’s not 100% me and Ash,” I say to Luca, “But the fact that I’m calling specifically for her and I don’t care how much it costs me is causing the computer to send more clients to her.”

  “And I have so many regulars now, gentlemen, that if I were to leave the company, it would start being unprofitable fast,” Ashley interjects.

  “That’s actually true,” I tell the two men. “After Ashley quit when she found out, the company began a stretch of negative revenue days that hasn’t picked up yet.

  “And just to let you know, I’m not coming back if Arsen sells Simulated Pleasures to you,” Ashley finishes off. She turns to me and looks me in the eyes. “I think it should stay with him. Something that maybe we can build together.”

  “So without this girl, we’d be buying a money-losing venture?” Mozorov asks Luca. His lawyer only nods.

  Mozorov turns to me and looks me in the eyes. “Is there any way you can see yourself forgiving me for getting out of this deal, Mr. Hawke?”

  And there you go. The tables have fucking turned.

  I lean back, taking Ashley’s hand in mine. Her eyes are on me. They’re filled with love.

  Gerard is looking at me as well. His eyes are filled with admiration.

  Luca and Mozorov are looking at me, their eyes filled with hope. That I have mercy in my soul.

  I look across the table.

  “I think if you can pay for dinner, we can call it a day,” I say with a smirk.

  “Done,” Mozorov says, raising his glass and holding it out.

  “Deal,” I say raising my scotch glass. We clink and drink.

  I turn to Ashley. I don’t even fucking care that there are people around me as I look into her eyes.

  “Ash,” I say. “I’m sorry…”

  But she doesn’t let me finish. Instead she places her index finger over my lips. She holds it there for a second, and then gives me a smile.

  I can’t fucking help it at this point. I reach over and bring her face closer, drawing her in for a kiss.

  When we come up for air, the people around the table are smiling.

  And the world has been made whole again.

  Ashley

  Happy endings… They are real. Forget everything you have ever read about the cold harsh world where no happiness can be found: it’s all bullshit. If you know where to look, it’s there, waiting for you. Sure, it doesn’t show up on your doorstep with a bow wrapped around it, but it exists. If I found happiness—and love—why can’t you and everyone else?

  It started when Arsen Hawke entered my life out of nowhere, hijacking my taxi. And now here we are, checking in at the Hilton, barely able to keep our hands off of each other. We left the restaurant in a hurry, all thoughts of business vanishing the moment our lips touched—all that mattered was the heat in our bodies, the incessant desire that wrapped itself around both of us. Our minds and bodies burning, there was little else we could do than leave Del Frisco's and head straight for the closest hotel; lucky for us, all it took was a short stroll to the other side of the street.

  “I love you so damn much,” Arsen says, stopping right in front of the door to our room. “You can’t imagine how much, Ash.” I smile, taking one step forward and pressing my body against his. I look into his eyes, resting one hand on his face and leaning in for a gentle kiss.

  “I know… And I also know how much,” I tell him, whispering each word. “Because I feel exactly the same. I’m sorry it took me this long.” Before I can say anything else, he presses his finger over my lips, just like I did to him before.

  “It doesn’t matter. We’re here now, just the two of us.”

  “Yes, just the two of us,” I repeat, licking my lips unconsciously as the same thought crosses our minds. Grinning, Arsen turns to the door and slides the magnetic key across its slit, turning the handle and walking inside the room. I follow after him, closing the door behind me. Still smiling, I walk past him, making an enormous effort to not jump on him right away. I want to do this right, after all. It’s time for us to be able to enter an apartment or a room and get past the hallway.

  I sit on the edge of the bed, my eyes locking on his. He comes over to me, going down on one knee as he holds my chin between his thumb and index finger. My heart is racing, lust and love mixing into one dangerous combination. This time there are no worries, no consequences to consider… Arsen and I, we’re finally one.

  I rest my hands on his face and pull him in, my eyelids drooping as I lean in toward him. Our lips touch slowly, our mouths fitting as if they were matching pieces of the same set. We barely move; we just stand still, our slightly parted lips brushing against one another while we let reality sink in. This is really happening and I’m not even talking about the sex right now.

  “Forever, Ash,” he whispers, his lips leaving mine. “I’m yours forever.” There’s a smile on his face, one full of tenderness and grace.

  “Promise me that,” I whisper back at him, pressing my forehead against his as I take a deep breath.

  “I promise you, Ash. Forever,” he says, his fingers once again under my chin. He makes me look up at him, his smile slowly turning into a grin. “But you know what that means, don’t you?” He continues, my heart beating faster as the tone of his voice changes. “It means that you’re also mine… Mine to do as I please.”

  “I wouldn’t want it another way,” I tell him with a grin of my own. I hesitate, but then I say something that crosses my mind, something that reminds me of the hours I spent on the phone with him. “Sir.”

  “Good girl.” His grin widens and he goes up to his feet, his crotch right in front of my face. I can’t help but notice the bulging there, the contour of his cock calling to me. Looking up at him, I slowly raise my arm and let my fingers fall on his crotch. I press slightly, feeling his thick cock with the palm of my hand. It’s almost insane to think that this cock right here is now mine… Only mine. Yes, this is my life now, getting to fuck the perfect guy with the perfect cock for the rest of my days.

  I curl my fingers around his thick shape, my eyes never leaving his as I start stroking him over the fabric of his dress pants. Flicking my wrist softly, I move my hand back and forth, his fingers threading through my hair as the atmosphere around becomes heavier.

  “I never wanted to fuck anyone as bad as I want to fuck you right now,” he says, his fingers turning into hooks and wrapping themselves around long locks of hair. I gasp as I feel his fingertips running over my scalp, and then he yanks on my hair, forcing my head back.

  “What are you waiting for, then?” I shoot back at him, my heart pounding violently as I anticipate what’s to come. “I’m right here. Yours to handle, yours to do whatever you want to.”

  “Is that so?” He asks mockingly, still keeping my head in place. I grab his cock hard, my fingers wrapped tight around it as his shaft pulses.

  “That’s exactly so. I’m yours, sir,” I purr at him, my voice sounding as if I were Misty once again. Something wild and dangerous flickers in his eyes, and I lick my lips lewdly, wanting him to unleash all that wildness upon my body.

  Letting go of my hair, he places his hand over my right shoulder and pushes me harshly; I fall back, my body bouncing on top of the mattress as he climbs on the bed. I barely have enough time to blink as he slides his fingers up my leg and under my skirt, flattening the palm of his hand against my pussy. He presses hard, my thong sticking against my folds as I realize that I’m as wet as the Pacific. Thankfully, the way he’s pressing me on my pussy tells me something that I desperately want—this time there’ll be no teasing. This time, there’ll no working toward a climax because the whole thing is going to be one giant relentless climax.

  “Are you ready? Moan, scream, come. You know that’s what’s going to happen,” Arsen tells me, pressing his body on top of mine as he starts to rub my pussy. I swallow in dry, licking my lips as I open my mouth to speak. No words leave my lips, though, and I only let out a small croak.

  I exhale s
harply as he takes his hand out, only to slide it to my thigh and grab my thong. He pulls it down my legs, and I lift my legs up as he takes it off of me. Looking me in the eyes, he takes the thong to his face and breathes in my scent before throwing it to the floor.

  “Delicious,” he tells me with a grin, his hand once again sliding to between my legs and finding my wet folds. “I want to taste more of that,” he continues, brushing his fingers up and down my labia. He starts to circle my clitoris with his index finger, tracing a path around it and then pressing down as I arch my back, my body fully knowing that I won’t leave this room before I’m utterly and completely spent.

  I start to move my hips, lifting my ass up from the mattress as I push my pussy against his hand. He reacts by letting go of my clit—turning his wrist around, he hurriedly slides his index and middle finger inside of me. Moving both fingers back and forth, he guides his free hand to my waist, sliding it under my blouse and making the hike up to my breasts; his fingers curl around my right breast and he starts to pull on the cup of my bra. As my hard nipple pops out, he grabs it in a heartbeat, caressing and pressing it between his fingers.

  My hands move as if they have a consciousness of their own, and I grab my blouse by the hemline. Sitting up awkwardly, I pull it over my head and throw it to the side, Arsen’s eyes honing on my chest’s naked skin. Before I can lie back again, his hand goes to my back and he unclasps my bra with a masterful flick of his fingers, pushing the straps down my shoulders. Biting my lower lip, I push the bra down my arms, letting it fall on the bed as Arsen’s hand cups my breasts eagerly, moving from one to the other, his fingers squeezing my fleshy curves harshly.

  “We’re just warming up,” he tells me as he starts fingering me harder, flicking his wrist so fast that I already feel my insides start to clench.

  “I love to warm up,” I grin at him, once again biting on my lip as I slide one hand down my stomach and press on my clit with two fingers. I start to rub myself as he fingers me, electricity pooling in my muscles.