A Benevolent Man?

[Emstar202]

Tiffany was cradled up beside Trent, his arm draped across her breasts, her leg laced through his. He was sleeping peacefully, just as she'd been moments ago. Her body was still exhausted. He'd fucked--no--used her all night long. He'd taken her in what seemed to be every position known to man, pleasured her with his mouth, and had even kissed her at intervals far into the early morning. She'd had countless orgasms, coming for him again and again. Her body was covered in cum, sweat, and water from the shower. His bed was an absolute mess, but Tiffany felt so sated. More sated than every before in her life. Her body ached for more sleep, but her mind was too active to allow her body to relax again. Yes, she'd fallen asleep earlier, with his arms wrapped tightly around her, after she'd told him she couldn't take anymore pleasure. She'd slept beside him for a few hours, but as the sun begin to rise over Lake Michigan, she awoke and hadn't been able to fall asleep again. As the morning came, her mind cleared and she was struck by just what last night had meant. This was not the start of a love affair, but a partnership, perhaps even a career... if one could call it that... and Tiffany was still trying to learn how best to deal with that fact.

She didn't really have any special talents. She'd never finished high school, having dropped out at the age of 17 due to a torrid love affair with an older man. She hadn't spoken to her parents since then, even when the love affair ended tragically. Tiffany was too stubborn to go crawling back to them, to admit she'd made a mistake. So she'd been crashing with friends ever since, then got a job waitressing, and finally, after years of work, she's been able to afford her measly apartment two floors down. She probably could have rented it sooner, had she not spent her money so frivolously. Thus, Tiffany was sort of alone in the world. Her friends resented her for always mooching off of them, and there was no way she was going to go back to her parents. Trent had been right; Up until a few weeks ago her only options had been working at the dinner for the rest of her life or finding some man to take care of her and becoming a housewife. Neither path sounded appealing. But then Trent had came along, and paved a new path for her, perhaps a dangerous one, but it came with a great payoff at the sacrifice of morals. But had she ever really had high moral standards anyway? The answer to that was a resounding 'no'. But prostitution? Surely she was better than that. Prostitutes were dirty and drug addicted and had a one way ticket to Hell, if you believed in such a place. Yet... she'd made more money tonight than she'd made all week. Sighing heavily, Tiffany rolled over on her side to face the sleeping man beside her.

He was gorgeous; there was no doubt about that. He had a chiseled body, sharp facial features, and an impressive cock. Was it really so bad to be used by such a prime specimen of man? Conflicting thoughts weighed heavily in her mind as the early morning sun crept in through Trent's giant windows. She didn't know what his exact plans were for her. Did he intend to use her solely for his own pleasure? That seemed unlikely, because she had given herself willingly to him on what she considered to be there first date. Surely he knew he could have had her whenever he pleased. Surely he must have bigger plans, or at least a dark kinky side that he felt obligated to pay her for. That side hadn't yet shown itself, but Tiffany was anxiously waiting for the revelation that was sure to come.

She untangled her body from Trent's and, wrapping herself in his robe, walked out to his balcony. She was silent, just as she'd been when she'd came to him tonight. She stared out at the beautiful lake twinkling in the early morning sun. She felt that, even though she was ashamed, that she'd already made her decision.

"Tiff...?" she heard him call her name from inside the bedroom through the open crack in the door.

Tiffany turned to his beckoning and stepped back into his room, his luxurious robe trailing on the floor behind her. It was far too big for her, and she hadn't bothered to tie it properly. Her dark brown hair was frazzled and the robe's opening sunk low on her torso, revealing a deeply pinked nipple from all the suckling he'd given it the night before. "Yes?" she asked him, slowly approaching the bed. For some reason she felt nervous, likely anxious in she could sense some sort of proposition was coming next. He'd began it in the bathroom last night, telling her how she drove him crazy, and how she'd drive othermen crazy too. He hadn't been saying it to flatter her. He'd been saying it as an argument; to convince her.

And as deeply burrowed as her answer was underneath fear and shame, Tiffany knew what her answer would be.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent was surprised to see her still there. The night before had been amazing, some of the greatest sex he'd had in ... well, in forever. It could have been nothing more than two horny people meeting in a club and coming home for a passionate one night stand.

But, it wasn't. Tiffany had come to Trent to earn a little money by performing a little sex. When he'd made it clear that a little sex wasn't good enough, pulling his dick from her mouth and telling her to go home, she'd made it clear that she was ready to do as he demanded ... again, for the money.

And she'd done more -- had gone farther -- masturbating herself to orgasm while he watched. Again... for the money! Or ... had it been.

By that point, the lines between what she was doing for herself and what she was doing for him ... what she was doing for money and what she was doing for free were getting blurred. And the next couple of hours, in which Trent had fucked Tiffany in multiple positions and multiple locations around the bedroom, as well as everything they each had to to the other with hungry mouths and tongues ... well, there was just no way to separate that into the For Profit and Gratis categories.

When she returned to the bed, Trent threw back the bedding, stripped the robe away from Tiffany's body, and pulled her into a tight, almost smothering spooning position. His dick hardened again, and -- laying in between her ass cheeks -- he was tempted to grab the lube and a condom from the night stand and play in that hole, which so far was the only orifice of Tiffany's that hadn't accepted at least two blasts from his now sore cock.

But he didn't. He was exhausted, and he was sure she was as well. Instead, he simply clutched her close to him, watching the blinding sun rise over the lake until the balcony cover finally diffused the light and filled the room with a soft orange that he'd always enjoyed sharing with a lover.

Lover...? he asked himself. Yes. She's your lover now. She's also one of your 'Girls'.

Trent was fairly sure Tiffany was working for him now. He'd broken her, like a Montana cowboy with a wild mustang. Tiffany had done things with Trent last night that she'd never done with a man before. Between their many orgasms, he'd taken the time to quiz her about her past sexual experiences. He couldn't know for sure whether she'd been totally truthful with him: Tiffany may have lied about some of her experiences or held stuff back, or told him everything as truthfully as she remembered it. He couldn't know now, but he'd learned it all for certain as time went on.

The point was, she'd done what she did last night either for Trent or for Trent's money. And either way, he was certain that, with the right introduction and incentive, he could get her to do it with other men, too.

"I'm leaving town for a day or two," he informed her. "Business ... out of town. But when I get back, I have a party I have to attend. Some artist, showing off his new painting or something. A friend of mine volunteered me to go, but I need a date. Interested?"

 

[Emstar202]

Trent didn't continue his spiel from the night before, but instead removed his robe from her shoulders and pulled her body tight to his own. He was spooning her again. It must have been a favorite position of his, but it felt far too intimate and loving for him to be doing so, especially since he was paying her for this. Although, to be completely honest, Tiffany would have fucked him for free. The money at first had offended her, but now... maybe it was starting to become something of a perk. She thought back to how many orgasms she'd had last night. Maybe she'd have to tone it down, or else he'd realize he needn't pay her for her service. Tiffany almost wished that was the case. If he wasn't such an asshole, she may have even admitted to liking him. He was confident, suave, the perfect man for a trophy wife. Many women thought of it as a degrading position, but Tiffany didn't see any downside in it. She'd never have to work anymore or worry about money. She didn't see the problem in hanging off a sweet, sexy man's arm and not lifting a finger all her life. Sounded ideal to her, actually. Unfortunately for her however, Trent was not interesting in filling a position such as that, but had more sinister plans.

"I'm leaving town for a day or two," he informed her suddenly, lips at the base of her ear. "Business ... out of town. But when I get back, I have a party I have to attend. Some artist, showing off his new painting or something. A friend of mine volunteered me to go, but I need a date. Interested?" He was very vague about this 'business' but she assumed it had something to do with prostitution. A pin-prick of jealously hit her when she thought of him fucking some other girls who were down on their luck just like her, but Tiffany did not let it show. This party of his... surely it was not just a party. Nothing with Trent so far had been as it initially seemed. She'd thought he'd been a friendly neighbor just helping her out, then she'd thought he'd been interested in a relationship, then, just moments ago, she'd thought he'd been about to ask her to be his formal call girl, so she was certain this party had more to it then he was letting on. But, at this point, was there really any benefit in denying him? "All right. I'll go with you," she agreed, rotating her body to face him, searching his eyes for some clue as to what this party might entail.

After a moment, she slipped out of his hold, stretched, and rose from his bed. Her eyes scanned his dismantled bedroom for a moment, before remembering she'd left her clothes in his living room. "I guess I better get going then," she told him, heading for the door, but her hand hesitated on the knob. "How much am I getting paid exactly?" she asked, trying to sound confident, when in reality she had no idea what she was talking about. He'd given her 300 for the blowjob and the little 'show' she'd put on for him in the bathroom. What did last night's activities earn her? Or had they amounted to nothing, given he hadn't had to ask for the services? Deciding not to give him a chance to draw that conclusion, Tiffany strode back from the door and to his bed, placing her hands on the satin sheets. "So that's 300 for the blowjob and show...I assume it's at least 200 more for last night's... activities, correct?" she said it with a seductive smirk, and prided herself at the confidence she exuded. Like she had any idea what sex cost, but she assumed it would be equivalent to what she'd earned the first night.

 

[LitWriter2013]

"How much am I getting paid exactly?"

Initially, Trent thought that Tiffany had come to the assumption that she would be servicing someone besides himself at the upcoming party. Then she began talking about the services she'd provided over the recent hours, and Trent understood her question.

He would have happily paid her more for the incredible post-masturbation performance. She deserved a thousand dollars ... two thousand dollars for how good she'd made him feel. But, she wasn't going to get it.

He just smiled to her, saying, "I'll see you Friday night ... okay?"

 

[Emstar202]

Tiffany's practiced smile faltered. "Are you serious? You're just going to disregard what we--what I-- did for you last night?" she asked in disbelief. He'd been so eager to throw out his money before. Why was now any different? Fuck! She'd let on that she'd liked it too much. Tiffany desperately needed money. Last time he'd given her four hundred for a few fucks, and this time, she'd sucked him off, masturbated for him, and fucked him? That at least earned her like, 800 dollars, or something.

"What the hell Trent? First I thought you were dating me, then I realized you were paying me, and now all of a sudden you're dating me again? What gives?" she asked, rising to her full height once more. Her hands flew to her hips, and it was almost comical to see her standing there, naked, and acting so entitled.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent watched her throw her fit in unmoving silence, and when she finished, he moved slowly to leave the bed as he said, "You're right. I'm sorry."

As he got to his feet, he snagged her roughly by the arm, spun her to face away from him. He moved her several steps forward, running her thighs into the end of his dresser. He pushed her forward until her breasts and belly were against the cold cedar plywood.
"
He wasn't playing around: his grip on her was rough and firm, and there was no getting away from his hold as he pulled each of her arms up behind her back. With just one of his big powerful hands, he was able to hold her wrists together pressed at her back between her shoulder blades.

"Do you want this just to be about the money?" he growled. His tone was angry, but there also seemed to be a touch of disappointment in it, too. "Nothing personal, right? Just fucks and bucks?"

He was hurting her, he knew: it was nothing permanently damaging, but it had to be frightening and angering for her.

He was leaning forward, his cock -- quickly enlarging yet again -- once more laying in the crevice of her ass cheeks.

"If its just fucks and bucks," he said, grasping his cock with his free hand and pressing it roughly at her anus, "then I think I should stop holding back ... get every penny's worth. Don't you?"

He pressed at her third hole, threatening to penetrate her but holding back. No lube, no condom, no foreplay: fucking Tiffany's ass in this way was going to hurt her, possibly damage her, even if it was an activity that was part of her normal sex life.

 

[Emstar202]

For a fleeting moment, Tiffany thought she'd won. When he rose from the bed, she was expecting him to head over to the wallet he'd left on his dresser and pull out a couple hundred dollars more for her. Instead, he grabbed her arm in a vice grip and shoved her into his dresser.

Tiffany gasped out as her stomach lurched in fear. Trent had her pinned quickly, her naked thighs pushed into the dresser and her hands pinned behind her back. She spun her head around to look at him, but the violent intensity reflected in his gaze was more than enough for her to look away again. The position he had her arms in was painful, they were bent backwards up to her shoulder blades, and Trent wasn't budging. His thighs clenched around hers, so she was completely stuck between his body and the dresser, similar to how she'd been between him and the counter top yesterday, except for now, she was not ashamed or in any form of longing, but terrified and anxious.

"Do you want this just to be about the money?" he growled against her ear. He voice was frigid and intimidating, but there was also a trace of disappointment in his tone. "Nothing personal, right? Just fucks and bucks?" The words hit her ear like a powerful wave at the beach knocked you off your feet. Her body shook in his hold, not in an effort to get away, but in fear as he tightened his grip and she felt his flaccid cock begin to harden against her ass.

"If its just fucks and bucks," he continued, and she felt the tip of his cock probing at her anus roughly, "then I think I should stop holding back ... get every penny's worth. Don't you?"

"No, Trent, please," she begged as all the color faded from her face. She had a virgin ass. She'd never let any of her boyfriends do it there, no matter how much they insisted. She'd just never seen the point in it, given she derived no pleasure from the experience. Tiffany's head hung low as her body ached in pain. "You don't have to pay me for last night, please, let me go."

 

[LitWriter2013]

(PM coming to you. Read it before you read this.)



"No, Trent, please," Tiffany begged as Trent pressed the bulge of his cock at her virginal opening. "You don't have to pay me for last night, please, let me go."

He'd never intended to penetrate her, of course: he'd known what her reaction would be. But, as if to show her the threat was real, he pressed hard enough to begin to open anus to him. Tiffany clenched her butt cheeks in desperation, begging him not to rape her ass. She tried to pull loose, but his powerful grip on her wrists and the helplessness of having hem twisted so high behind her simply left her without escape.

Trent spent a moment, directing his cock with his second hand at her ass and pressed forward. He began to penetrate her then -- as she let loose another cry of desperation -- he stopped.

Slowly, he released his vice grip on her arms, allowing her to pull them back to her body protectively. He lifted her from the dresser, turned her to face him, and pressed her up against the wall -- gently, this time, not as he had before. His embrace of her was ... loving.

"I won't hurt you, Tiffany," he whispered into her ear. He kissed her cheek, then pulled back to look into her eyes. "I won't hurt you ... ever. And I won't ever let anyone else hurt you."

He was again hinting to her future with him, whether she understood it or not in her distraught condition.

"I'm going to take care of you," he continued, his tone as if he was asking a long time lover to be his forever. It was a sincere tone, learned through years of recruiting nice girls into a not-so-nice profession. And, often, it worked. He wouldn't know whether it worked with Tiffany until he was standing outside at his car on Friday, waiting for her to come down and join him for the party. "I'm going to take care of you, and you'll never want for anything. I promise. You just ... you just have to do what I ask of you..."

He lifted her chin, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. He added, still in a whisper but obviously an order, "...when I ask ... and how I ask. And the money...? I'll take care of that, just like I'll take care of you, Tiff."

He kissed her on the lips, soft and sweet, then again, then he backed away from her, reached into a drawer, withdrew his wallet, and pulled out two, one hundred dollar bills. He moved back to her, took her hand, and pressed the folded bills into her hands.

"I don't want to scare you," he continued, moving close to her again. "I don't want you to fear me. Just ... please, Tiff ... do as I ask ... okay?"

 

[Emstar202]

Tiffany cried out more in fear for what was to come than actual pain as Trent pushed the head of his cock firmer against her ass, spreading her anus slightly. "Please, stop. Don't!" Instinctively, her body closed to him, making it all the more painful when he pressed in the first inch of his large erection. She wiggled incessantly in his arms, desperate to escape his hold, but he was too strong. His grip on her wrists was hard enough to leave marks, and his fingernails began to dig into her flesh the more she struggled.

The head of his cock alone was enough to cause a great pain to spread from the point of penetration throughout the rest of Tiffany's body. She started to cry in horror and anticipation of what was to come. She began to beg him again, but then, just as suddenly as he'd started, he stopped.

Trent released his tenacious grip on her wrists and Tiffany pulled her arms back hastily, drawing them close to her body liked a frightened animal. She meant to turn and run form him, but he grasped her by the waist and turned her so she was forced to look at him. Although he held her gently, it was clear that if she tried to run he would not allow her to do so.

"I won't hurt you, Tiffany," he whispered softly, lips near her ear. He kissed her cheek softly, then looked her straight in the eyes like a concerned lover. She hated these sharp turns in his personality. One minute he'd be sweet and loving, like he actually cared for her, and the next we he was manhandling her, making her choke on his cock or threatening to rape her. She was crying slightly, even as she forced herself to look into his eyes. He told her that not only would he not hurt her, but he wouldn't allow anyone else to do so either. This wasn't said with the intention of a protective boyfriend, but more like a man protective of others damaging his property.

She listened to his words intently. They were spoken so softly, they nearly sounded rehearsed, but the way he used her nickname and placed his fingertips to her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes, had her falling for his lies just a little. Before she got a chance to react to his words with more than just a hurt and doubtful expression, Trent leaned in and kissed her softly, perhaps the tenderest kiss he'd bestowed upon her lips since their first meeting. She sighed into the kiss as her heart finally stopped beating so rapidly.

He reached into a drawer then and retracted his wallet. He placed two hundred dollars bills into her hand, making 500 dollars in all. Tiffany looked into his eyes, conveying a grateful yet feared look.

"I don't want to scare you," Trent told her, closing in on her again. She wasn't a short woman, but he was so tall and big and intimidating she felt very weak both in stature and mentality compared to him. "I don't want you to fear me. Just ... please, Tiff ... do as I ask ... okay?"

A heavy sigh parted her lips as Tiffany looked up at him. "Okay..." she said, sounding unsure. How could she not fear him after what had just happened? Any rational person would. She was afraid of the repercussions if she did not agree with him however, so she quickly added, "Thank you for the money. I'll do whatever you say, okay? Just don't... please don't do that again."

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent kissed her softly again, caressing his hands over the bare skin of her arms. "I won't. So long as we understand one another."

It was such a fragile moment. He was about to send her away, and there was no way for him to know whether she would come back to work for him, come back to fuck him, avoid him politely, or even go straight to the cops and claim rape.

He wasn't too worried about the latter, of course. There was plenty of evidence that she'd come to him and spent the night with him of her free will. The bruises that she had on her wrists -- and possibly other parts of her body -- could be explained away as rough sex.

No, Trent's primary concern was that he still didn't have her as an employee. He'd invested a great deal of money over the past days in creating a whore. He'd enjoyed some incredible sex, but he could have gotten the same from sluts at the clubs or less expensive hookers.

Not that Trent would have. Whereas most people said you needed to separate your personal and professional lives, he preferred to have the two intertwined like the fibers of the ropes tied to his headboard, ropes with which he would some day train Tiffany for his BDSM clients.

Trent preferred his sex to come from the women in or soon to be in his stable. He had little interest in club girls, unless he thought them possible employees; and he really disliked common street walkers. So, considering that, the sex in which he and Tiffany had participated was ... a bargain.

He kissed her one last time, stepped back and aside, and said politely, "Why don't you get dressed and go home. Get a nap." He chuckled, trying to add a bit of levity to their current, tense moment. "You had a busy night."

He reminded her about Friday night, telling her, "Make it 8pm. I'll have clothes sent over by messenger, so ... be sure to be home a couple of hours before that."

Trent was laying out for her exactly how it was going to be: time, clothes, car. The only thing he didn't tell her was that she was going as his employee, not his date. He knew she had to be wondering it, but he wasn't going to say it to her. So far, her fucks for the bucks had only been with him. He didn't see any reason for saying to her, You'll be servicing someone you don't know ... whether you want to or not.

 

[Emstar202]

Although his demeanor had turned a complete 180, Tiffany could still sense the warning in his tone when he said "I won't. So long as we understand one another." If she acted out with him again, her ass would once more be on the line, quite literally, in fact. This thought alarmed her, but it also curbed her rebellious will.

His kisses still ignited that inferno within her, even though she knew that given what he'd nearly just done, she shouldn't be feeling any pleasure caused by him at all. Still, she returned his kiss, unable to resist the enticing inferno that curled in her stomach whenever he kissed her like this. So tender, so sweet. She shook a little in his arms, body still tense from his threats, but he melted her soon enough, and she even wrapped her arms around his neck. He was suave, and his words so persuasive. He was like a serpent with a golden tongue.

He instructed her to go home and take a nap, telling her she'd had a busy night. She felt almost as if he were speaking with a child. Nevertheless she nodded, and, slipping away from his grasp, started to walk towards the living room where she'd dropped her clothes last night. Before she left, Trent reminded her of his plans for Friday night, their date, as he'd called it. Well, Tiffany wasn't sure what a 'date' with Trent would entail, seeing as most things with him had not turned out as they'd originally seemed. Against her better judgement, Tiffany agreed. "Okay. I'll be ready for eight." She smiled slightly, a shy, sad smile, and left him in the bedroom.

As she dressed and pocketed the five hundred bucks Trent had given her, she pondered on what Friday night would be like. Naturally, she expected it had to do with work. She hoped to be servicing Trent, and she felt like if he were expecting her to... ugh... fuck for the big bucks with someone else than he would have told her beforehand right? Perhaps he truly did just need a date, and wanted some arm candy. She nearly laughed at herself. Trent was a sinister man with sinister plans. There was far more in store for her than a simple art show, that was for sure.