Title: Sex, Lies and Deception

Author: Diandra Hollman

E-Mail: diandrahollman@gmail.com

Website: http://diandrahollman.neocities.org/

Date Finished: 12/7/06

Rating: NC-17

Keywords/warnings: AU, Crossover (Alias/X-Files), Slash, het,   
    femslash, prostitution, lots of sex and debauchery, 
    descriptions of rape, questionable consensuality on a 
    couple occasions, Mulder/Vaughn, a little Jack/Vaughn, 
    Sark/Vaughn, some Sloane/Vaughn (yes, it disturbs me too), 
    varying combinations of Vaughn/Sydney/Lauren/Nadia (Sydney  
    and Nadia are NOT sisters in this universe), pregnancy, a 
    (brief) discussion on abortion, a little kink here and 
    there, some general Vaughn Abuse and did I mention lots 
    and lots of sex?

Spoilers: General plot. Nothing major and it's all AU so it 
    doesn't really matter anyway.

Disclaimer: Mulder belongs to Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen. 
    Everybody else belongs to JJ Abrams and Bad Robot. 
    Clearly, none of these people would let me get anywhere 
    near their characters. 

Archive: E-mail me and we'll talk about it.

Summary: "Part of me wanted for it to be real - wanted to let  
   go and enjoy the treatment. But deep down I knew it was a 
   lie. It was only a matter of time before his illusion was 
   shattered - before he realized that he couldn't save me 
   from this life and that I could never allow myself to fall 
   for him."

Dedication: To the creators of two of the best shows on 
    television. The shows and these characters will be missed.

Author's Notes: Yes, Lauren is in this story. No, she will not 
    be an evil witch. If that bothers you, go find something 
    else to read. This story is partly inspired by a couple 
    VigOrli stories I read, particularly Jen Lynn's 
    outstanding "Lost and Found". 


Sex, Lies and Deception
By Diandra Hollman

The laundry room of the apartment building was deserted, the 
afternoon sunlight shining painfully bright through the open 
window. I leaned against the ledge and watched the children 
from the houses across the street play baseball on the 
grassless lawn with a heavy stick and some rocks. Not one of 
them had the same skin color or accent, but they didn't seem 
to even notice. I wished I could remember a time when life had 
been so simple - so innocent.

I took another drag from my cigarette, flicked the ashes out 
the window and smothered the tiny voice inside me that begged 
for the chance to start over, to fix all the stupid mistakes I 
had made and set things right. There was no use wishing for 
the impossible and dreaming about what could have been. No use 
dwelling on the past. 'Besides,' I thought. 'If I hadn't gone 
down this road I may never have met Will Kuipers.'

I smiled inwardly at the thought of him. Much as I tried to 
deny it, the man had managed to shine a small ray of hope on 
my bleak existence. I found myself watching eagerly for his 
car every night, my heart beating just a little faster every 
time I saw a dark green Ford in the distance, wondering if it 
might be him.

The buzzer shook me from my daydreams. I took one last drag 
and crushed the remainder of my cigarette in the ashtray on my 
way to the dryer. I had just finished tossing everything into 
my laundry basket to fold later when a steely voice announced 
the arrival of a second person into the room.

"It seems we need to have a talk, Michael."

I swallowed against the revulsion I always felt when Arvin 
Sloane talked to me in that tone of voice - like honey coated 
venom. "About what," I asked innocently.

The laundry basket fell out of my hands as he moved across the 
room with more speed than a man his age had any right to 
possess, shoving me against the nearest wall with one hand 
wrapped around my throat.

"You've been holding out on me," he said calmly, only the 
faintest trace of menace on his weathered face. "We're losing 
business."

"Please, Mr. Sloane," I gasped as I tried to pry his hand from 
my neck. He merely tightened his grip.

"It's because of Mr. Kuipers, isn't it? You're wasting time 
and money on a schoolboy crush."

I shook my head. "I'm not," I mouthed, his impossibly strong 
grip robbing me of my voice. He let go suddenly and I slumped, 
coughing and rubbing gingerly at my abused throat. The blow to 
the face took me completely off guard. The next thing I knew, 
I was sprawled on the floor, one hand cradling my throbbing 
right eye.

"Get up," he growled. 

I didn't move - too stunned to process his command. The world 
tilted dizzyingly as he dragged me upright with a fist 
clenched in the front of my T-shirt. I was face-down on top of 
one of the washers before I even had a chance to defend 
myself, my left arm twisted painfully behind my back, being 
held immobile by his body weight.

"You're forgetting your place," he hissed in my ear. "You 
would be dead in the street if I hadn't taken you in. You 
*belong* to me." He twisted my arm a little higher to drive 
home his point, wrenching a whimper from my abused throat as 
fire tore through my shoulder. 

I relaxed my body in spite of the pain. I had learned long ago 
that fighting Arvin Sloane only made things worse. It was best 
to just ride it out - let him do whatever he was determined to 
do. At least if he took out his frustrations on me I knew 
Sydney and Lauren would be safe. If I was lucky, I would live 
long enough to see them again. 

*******
(Two weeks earlier)

The smell of fresh brewed coffee drew me out of a dead sleep. 
I groaned and stretched as much as I could on the worn leather 
couch and sat up, wincing at the aching muscles that screamed 
in protest.

"What time is it," I asked blearily.

"Almost one," Sydney replied, pressing the mug she had been 
waving under my nose into my hands. "I figured I'd let you 
sleep. It looked like you had a rough night."

"Tell me about it," I mumbled as I sipped tentatively at the 
hot liquid. It was the same horrible coffee as always but it 
was the best we could afford. I had long ago learned to live 
with the bitter taste. In fact, I found it oddly appropriate. 
"Where's Lauren?"

"It's her turn to get groceries. She should be back any 
minute."

Lauren, Sydney and I all had our own apartments in the 
building, but they had both practically moved into mine long 
ago. They said it was for my own good - that I was hopeless 
when it came to cleaning and cooking a decent meal for myself. 
But I knew they just wanted to keep an eye on me, make sure I 
didn't go off the deep end and hang myself from the nearest 
sturdy tree branch.

Sydney slid gracefully onto the couch beside me, her hand 
gently rubbing the back of my neck. "You want to talk about 
it," she asked softly.

"No," I said quickly. "I'm fine. Just a little sore."

"You shouldn't let them be so rough on you. If you just tell 
them..."

"I can handle it," I interrupted. This was a conversation we 
had had many times over and I didn't feel like getting into it 
again.

She opened her mouth to argue but was cut off by the sound of 
a key in the lock. Lauren entered the apartment seconds later, 
an overflowing grocery bag balanced in each arm. Sydney rushed 
to catch one before it spilled. 

"Oh, good, you're awake," Lauren chirped in her bright 
English-by-way-of-Australia lilt. "They were out of the beer 
you like. I hope you don't mind Miller."

"It's fine," I replied. As long as it was alcoholic I didn't 
care what brand it was.

Lauren immediately sensed my mood and dumped her remaining 
grocery bag on the kitchen counter, leaving the unpacking in 
Sydney's capable hands, making a beeline for the couch and 
perching herself on my lap. "Are you feeling all right, love?"

I kissed her perfect little nose. "Yes, I'm fine. Although 
you'd think I was made of glass the way you two fuss over me."

"That's because we love you, Michael." 

I winced. "Please, don't call me that." That's what *they* 
called me.

She sighed. "Vaughn. Would you like me to draw you a bath?"

I shook my head. The girls were big on soaking their sore 
muscles in a tub of hot water. I couldn't stand just sitting 
in a bath for an hour - it bored me. And when I was bored my 
mind turned to thoughts and memories I'd rather not entertain.

"Nah, I'll just take a shower."

"Would you like me to join you," she asked with an impish 
smile. 

"Lauren," Sydney scolded. She had obviously finished putting 
away groceries and now stood in the kitchen doorway, her arms 
folded, a mockingly stern expression on her face.

"Oh, fine," Lauren mock-pouted, sliding from my lap and 
holding up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

I smiled in spite of myself, wondering once again what I would 
have done without them.

******
(That night)

"I swear if one more man makes a joke about invading England I 
will rip his damned head off," Lauren snarled as the black 
Saturn drove off.

"Oh, honey," Sydney sighed, rubbing Lauren's arm 
affectionately. "How bad?"

"Well, he's clearly going through a mid-life crisis. And he's 
a cheapskate."

As Sydney clucked her tongue sympathetically, a dark SUV 
pulled up to the curb beside the sidewalk bench I was leaning 
against. The driver - a man with longish, greasy looking blond 
hair who looked to be just entering his forties - leered at 
me. I rolled my eyes in the girls' direction and handed my 
unfinished cigarette to Lauren, who immediately popped it 
between her lips. 

"How much," the man asked as I leaned in his passenger window, 
his southern drawl made even thicker than it perhaps would 
have been had he not clearly been drinking earlier that night. 

"Fifty to a hundred depending on what you want," I answered 
smoothly. 

"Get in."

I climbed in the passenger seat and pointed to the ally a 
couple blocks up the road. "Turn right up there."

"You sure got a pretty mouth," he slurred as he pulled away 
from the curb. 

'Gee, how original,' I thought, rolling my eyes.

He followed my directions, parking the truck in the deserted 
ally. 

"So, how's sixty sound," he asked as he pulled out his wallet 
and began counting out bills.

"It's seventy-five for a blowjob."

"Better be worth it," he grumbled as he handed me seventy-five 
dollars and a condom. Clearly he had done this before. Then he 
tossed the wallet on the dashboard and unzipped his pants 
unceremoniously. 

I jammed the money into my back pocket and took a deep breath 
before leaning across the console and over his lap.

*****

"Same time next week, gorgeous," the southerner said with a 
smirk as he dropped me off on the other side of the street. 

"I certainly hope not," I muttered under my breath as he drove 
away. 

I spit into the gutter before crossing the street to join 
Sydney and Lauren. Sydney wordlessly handed me a breath mint. 
I thanked her and popped it in my mouth, immediately breaking 
it between my teeth and savoring the burst of peppermint that 
erased the last traces of latex and southern hick.

"Thank god for condoms," was all I said as I reached in my 
pocket for another cigarette. I had barely gotten it lit 
before another car pulled up to the curb.

"Guess it's my turn," Sydney said with a wink. She sauntered 
toward the car, her hips swaying sexily. She had a walk that 
was hers alone and she looked incredible doing it. She leaned 
into the passenger window to talk to the driver, showing off 
her ample cleavage and, I knew, speaking in a deep husk worthy 
of Mae West. 

"It's scary how natural she's become at this," Lauren 
lamented. 

I tore my eyes from Sydney and turned back to her. "She seems 
like the kind of person who could adapt to any situation."

Sydney straightened suddenly and turned on her heel, heading 
back toward us, her swagger forgotten. The car didn't move. 

"He asked for you," she said simply, plucking the cigarette 
out of my hand with a shrug. 

I sighed. Great. All the gay guys in Los Angeles were 
coming out of the woodwork on the same night. Wonderful.

I shuffled reluctantly over to the car and leaned in the 
window Sydney had abandoned. The driver was maybe slightly 
younger than the last john but it was too close to call. This 
guy, however, was clean cut and looked like he had just gotten 
off work at the nearest insurance company or advertising firm. 

"Get in," he said softly.

"Aren't you going to ask how much I charge first," I asked 
suspiciously. 

"It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, I'll pay it."

Alarm bells went off in my head. This guy had some sort of 
ulterior motive here, but I had no idea what it might be. "Are 
you a cop?"

He shook his head in a manner that I wasn't entirely convinced 
meant 'no' and reached out to put his hand on my arm. I jerked 
it away, but made no further move to run. "I want you," he 
said gently. "I don't care how much I have to pay."

I smiled inwardly. He was practically begging me to rip him 
off. I climbed in the car and started to direct him to the 
deserted alley. 

"Actually, I was thinking something more along the lines of a 
hotel. The back seat in this thing is kinda cramped."

"Well, that answers my next question," I muttered. I leaned my 
head out the window and thrust my hand away from me, palm down 
- a gesture Sydney, Lauren and I used to say, basically, 
"don't wait up".

"What's your name," the man asked.

"Whatever you want it to be, big boy," I replied.

He chuckled. "No, seriously."

"What does it matter?"

"I need to call you *something*."

I hesitated, then sighed. Clearly he was one of those guys who 
wanted to treat this like a date. "Michael."

"Michael," he repeated, testing the way the word rolled from 
his lips. "I'm William Kuipers. You can call me Will."

The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of his 
fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel.

"If you don't mind my asking, how did you get into this 
business?"

"Actually, I do mind," I snapped defensively.

He persisted. "It's just that you seem smart..."

"And you've determined this in, what, the two minutes we've 
been talking?"

"I'm a quick judge of character," he smirked.

I sighed. "Fine. A few months into my first year of college I 
was arrested for possession. Five years. When I got out, 
nobody would hire me. I lived on the streets for a while until 
my current employer took me in and gave me a place to stay."

Will frowned. "He pays your rent and you whore yourself out in 
return."

"First of all, that's not how I would put it and second, he 
doesn't pay my rent, he owns the building."

"So the women who were with you..."

"Live in the same building. Why are you asking all these 
questions?"

"I like to get to know the people I sleep with," he said 
simply.

I laughed. "You've never done this before, have you?"

He winced. "Is it that obvious?"

I smirked. "Painfully, yes. Turn left up here."

Will followed my directions and pulled into the parking lot of 
the Horizon motel. It was a roach infested dump, but the 
owners charged by the hour and didn't ask questions, making it 
the preferred hotel for the residents of the Dauphine 
building.

"You go get a room. I'll wait by the car," I said, reaching 
for the door handle. 

"You could just wait *in* the car, you know."

I squinted at him. What rock had this guy crawled out from 
under anyway? "You want me to stay in your car alone? What 
makes you think I wouldn't go through your glove compartment 
or try to hot wire the car?"

"Would you," he asked. 

I stared at him for a long moment. This felt like some sort of 
trick, but I couldn't figure out what goal he could possibly 
be trying to achieve. "Fine," I said, leaning back in the 
seat. "Hurry up."

He nodded silently and disappeared into the building, punching 
the lock button on his keyless remote as he left. I snorted as 
the alarm beeped in response. 

'He asked for it,' I thought as I popped open the glove 
compartment. Two booklets lay neatly inside. One was the 
instruction manual from the dealership, the other a brochure 
for a car rental company. "Great," I muttered as I slammed the 
compartment shut again. Nothing in this car would tell me 
anything about him. Any information I could get would have to 
come from him. I wondered if I could find a way to sneak a 
glance at his wallet.

I jumped as the doors unlocked again with a tiny beep. Will 
opened the door and offered me his hand. I ignored it and 
climbed out, waiting while he re-locked the doors before 
following him to the room.

I pulled my uncomfortably tight shirt over my head almost the 
second he was finished turning the lock on the door. "So, how 
do you wanna do this?"

He was beside me in a heartbeat, his grip firm on my wrists as 
he gently pulled my hands away before I could unzip my black 
leather pants. "Slow down," he said quietly.

I sighed. He really was determined to treat me like his date 
and it was starting to frustrate me. I was used to quick fucks 
in the back of an SUV where I didn't even have to look at the 
guy behind me.

Will leaned in to kiss me suddenly and I jerked my head back. 
"Not on the lips," I blurted. A kiss on the lips was too 
intimate for me. It wasn't something I let any john do. He 
looked slightly disappointed, but didn't push the issue. My 
brain froze as he pressed a long, lingering kiss to my cheek. 

Then he pulled back and drew his wallet out of his pants 
pocket. "So how much do you charge?"

Shit. I had forgotten to ask for the money first. I could 
probably blame it on nervousness due to his odd behavior. "200 
flat rate," I lied. "Any kinky stuff will cost you an extra 
fifty per prop."

He whistled lowly. "I'm definitely in the wrong line of 
business."

I scoffed. I hated it when people made comments like that. 
"You think we get to keep all of it?" Hell, we were lucky to 
get half of what we made. And even those of us who weren't on 
drugs risked assault, rape, STDs and murder on any given 
night. Prostitution wasn't a career choice. It was a last 
resort. Not that Will would be interested in any of this. 
Nobody ever cared that much.

Will pressed a wad of twenties in my hand and stood watching 
while I counted it. When I had finished, I looked up at him 
with wide eyes.

"This is four hundred dollars," I said dumbly.

"Yep. Consider it a tip. Your...employer doesn't need to 
know."

"I can't, I..." I stammered.

"So how much do you really charge?"

My illusion of power deflated as I saw the knowing gleam in 
his eyes. "One hundred," I admitted quietly.

He made a small triumphant sound and leaned in until his face 
was inches from mine. "I may not be familiar with all the 
proper procedures, Michael, but I'm not an idiot."

I wordlessly handed back the extra three hundred.

"Keep it," he said kindly. 

"But..." I protested half-heartedly. It was four hundred 
dollars, after all.

"I want you to have it. Buy yourself a decent meal now and 
then." His eyes roved pointedly up and down my body as he said 
this. 

I shoved the money into my wallet without any further 
argument, withdrawing a condom from the worn fake leather 
before shoving it into my pants pocket. 

"You do it," Will said softly when I held out the condom for 
him. 

I smiled inwardly. Whether intended or not, he had just given 
control of the situation back to me. I stepped closer to him, 
not quite touching, but close enough for him to feel my breath 
teasing his ear as I pulled his shirt free of his slacks and 
unbuttoned it. I smoothed my hands over his chest, humming 
appreciatively at the muscles that were just toned enough to 
tell me that he worked out, but not bulging enough to appear 
unnatural. I undid the button on his slacks and sank to my 
knees in front of him, carefully undoing the zipper with my 
teeth. Will groaned, but kept his hands firmly clenched at his 
sides, neither encouraging nor discouraging my actions.

I dragged his boxers down, letting them join his slacks in a 
pool around his ankles and wrapped my hand around his cock, 
feeling the size and weight of it and giving it an 
experimental tug. "Mmm, you're so big," I purred 
appreciatively. Okay, so I said that to all my customers, but 
in this case it wasn't a complete lie. Most of the guys who 
fucked me were trying to boost their ego by proving that they 
could be an incredible lover even though they had dicks the 
size of pencils and all the finesse of a gorilla. Will, on the 
other hand, was hung like a porn star.

I tore open the foil wrapper and placed the condom between my 
teeth before taking him in my mouth, watching his face from 
beneath my eyelashes as I rolled it down his cock with 
practiced ease. I took him into my throat easily, in spite of 
his size, and swallowed deliberately. He groaned again and 
this time his hands reached for my head, his fingers tangling 
in my hair. I was somewhat surprised when he pushed me away, 
his cock slipping from my mouth with a wet plop. 

"Stop," he gasped. "I wanna be inside you."

I gave him my best seductive smile as I stood up and started 
to unbutton my pants. I barely held back a sigh of frustration 
when he stopped me again. "Let me," he said, his voice gentle. 

"Fine. It's your money," I grumbled under my breath. I kicked 
my shoes off instead and waited impatiently while he removed 
the rest of his clothing. I gasped as he pushed me suddenly, 
sending me sprawling on my back across the mattress. He 
straddled me, pressing me deeper into the uncomfortable 
springs and sucking insistently on my neck. I gave him an 
exaggerated moan and brought his hand to my zipper, hoping he 
would take the hint and get on with it. 

He froze. "Is this not good," he asked, his hand cupping my 
mostly flaccid cock through the material of my pants. 

I pitched my voice to a low rasp. "It will be once you slide 
that big cock of yours in my ass."

Something close to disgust flashed in his eyes and I marveled 
again at his naiveté. What did he expect, a blushing virgin? 

I gasped again as he roughly undid the front of my pants and 
yanked them down and off in one fluid motion. I moaned and 
spread my legs invitingly. "That's it," I goaded. "Now give me 
your..."

Will cut me off abruptly with a hand clamped over my mouth. 
"Don't. Talking like that makes you sound cheap." 

His hand muffled my snort. Yeah? And?

"I want you to be honest with me. Don't just tell me what you 
think I want to hear."

"Whatever floats your boat, pal," I muttered as he removed his 
hand from my mouth. 

"I assume you have lubricant," he asked hesitantly.

"Don't need any."

"I don't want to hurt you," he protested.

I sighed. 'Yeah, well, that would make you the only one,' I 
thought. "This isn't my first time, Will. I'm ready."

Understanding dawned on his face as I guided his hand to my 
loosened opening, sliding his fingers through the surrounding 
layer of lubricant. I had made the mistake of forgetting my 
lubricant once long ago. I was lucky the John was nice enough 
to use a pretty generous amount of spit, but it had still hurt 
like hell. Since then, I made sure that I was well stretched 
and lubricated before I even left the apartment. 

I moaned as Will pushed slowly inside me. Mostly out of habit, 
but also because he was stretching me further than I had 
anticipated. Damn, he really was big.

"Yes," I hissed as he sank to the hilt. "That feels so good."

"Michael," he said, a warning tone in his voice.

"I'm serious," I gasped, only partially lying. It hurt a 
little, despite my preparation, but then it always did. I had 
long ago learned to accept - even welcome - the pain. 

"Is it okay if I move," Will asked hesitantly.

"God, yes," I moaned, pulling my knees up and wrapping my 
hands around my shins. "Fuck me."

He moved frustratingly slow, his thrusts long and deep, as if 
he had all the time in the world. A phrase my uncle had liked 
to tease my mother with came to mind. "Tu fais l'amour à la 
papa." It was probably because of him that I knew the French 
word for "bastard" by the time I was eight. 

I bore down on Will, squeezing his cock rhythmically, hoping 
to make him come and get it over with. 

Will groaned, his movements faltering. "Fuck, that feels 
good."

"You like that," I asked huskily, squeezing him again 
pointedly. 

"Stop," he hissed.

I did so with a frustrated sigh, glaring at the ceiling, 
taking inventory of the signs of neglect - the cracks, the 
peeling, yellowed plaster and a stain that looked suspiciously 
like dried blood - and debating the pros and cons of killing 
Will and making off with his wallet. Then he wrapped his hand 
around my cock, stroking me in time with his trusts until he 
brought me to full hardness.

"Don't," I snapped, clenching my teeth as warmth began to pool 
between my legs. It was bad enough he was determined to draw 
this out without him leaving me hard. I hardly ever came for a 
John and when I did it was usually for the rare guys who got 
off on giving me a blowjob. I certainly didn't come with a 
guy's dick in my ass. It was one thing to let a guy fuck you. 
It was another thing entirely if you actually enjoyed it.

Will obediently released my now fully erect cock and reached 
for one of the pillows instead, wordlessly stuffing it under 
my lower back. I yelped as the new angle made his cock rub 
against my prostate, my hands releasing my legs as I tried to 
grab for the pillow. Will stopped me, grabbing me by the 
wrists and pressing my arms to the mattress, immobilizing 
them, his thrusts finally gaining momentum. 

I panicked. "Don't," I repeated, twisting my arms against his 
grip. But he was strong, and my struggling was just increasing 
the friction and bringing me closer to orgasm faster.

"It's okay," he murmured, oblivious to my distress. "Let go."

I writhed helplessly, my mind screaming in protest of the 
pleasure building in me. "Please," I whispered, my dignity 
forgotten in my blind anxiety. But it was too late. I 
whimpered as the spasms took over my body, my hips jerking 
against his, feeling a wet splash on my chest and hearing him 
groan as his thrusts slowed and finally stopped. 

I don't know how long I lay beneath him, trembling and 
panting. The next thing I was aware of was the feel of Will 
pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek, just brushing the 
corner of my lips. I snapped and shoved him off of me, wincing 
as his softened cock slipped out of me and darting into the 
bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I slumped against the 
nearest wall, my shaking legs barely holding me upright, and 
pounded the side of my fist repeatedly against the cracked 
tile. 

I felt something dribble down the inside of my thigh and 
reached down to yank the used condom from where it had lodged 
itself inside me when it had been hastily removed, flinging it 
angrily in the direction of the waste basket. I dove for the 
sink, frantically scrubbing my hands to remove the last traces 
of semen, covering my mouth with one wet hand to muffle a sob. 
It wasn't enough. I could still smell the sour trace of his 
come on my hand. I gagged, bile rising in my throat as I 
reached for the soap and began furiously scrubbing my hands 
again.

I flinched as the sound of a knock on the door thundered 
through the small bathroom. "Michael," Will called, his voice 
sounding worried. "Are you okay?"

I held my breath, trying vainly to hold in the cries that 
clawed at my throat, threatening to break free. I stared at my 
reflection in the broken mirror, my vision so blurred with 
angry tears that I couldn't see more than a random splash of 
color. I heard Will calling me, louder, his voice becoming 
increasingly anxious. 

"I'm coming in."

"No," I shouted, but it was too late. The door opened and I 
lashed out instinctively, hitting and scratching blindly at 
his arms and face.

"Michael," he yelled, struggling to get a hold of my thrashing 
arms. "Stop!" He tried to pull me into his arms in his effort 
to control my movements and keep me from hurting him or 
myself. I fought him like a wild animal, wrestling against his 
hold. 

Somehow in the struggle I ended up with my back pressed 
against the wall and my head hit the solid surface violently. 
Stars exploded in my vision and all the fight went out of me 
at once. I sagged in Will's arms and he bore my weight as I 
slid to the floor, cushioning my fall and cradling me against 
his chest as I cried. 

He held me tightly, his hands trembling slightly as they ran 
through my hair and over my back. "Michael...what happened? 
Did I hurt you? What's wrong? Please, talk to me..."

I burrowed closer to him, wanting his comfort without 
understanding why or remembering that he was the one who had 
caused my breakdown. He held me in his arms as I wore myself 
out, my tears slowing, my voice becoming hoarse from my 
emotional outburst. Finally he cupped my chin in his hand, 
lifting my face so my eyes met his. 

"What is it," he asked, his voice full of concern, wiping away 
my tears with gentle fingers. 

"Please...don't..." I babbled. I didn't know what was 
happening anymore, too scared and confused to even know what I 
wanted.

"Michael? Come on, Michael, breathe. Calm down. I'm not going 
to hurt you. It's okay. Whatever memory you're reliving - it 
isn't real. You're safe now."

I felt his lips against my temple...my cheek...as I came back 
to my senses, drifting closer to my lips, parted with my too-
quick breaths. Then his mouth was covering mine, his hand 
gently cradling the back of my head, tongue tentatively 
brushing my own, coaxing me to respond. And I did, briefly, 
before reality suddenly came crashing down on me again and I 
pulled away, dragging myself away from Will and struggling to 
stand on my still-wobbly legs. Will stood silently and helped 
me, his hand beneath my arm as I found my balance. 

My fist connected with his jaw before I even knew what I was 
doing. Will staggered back, dazed, and shot me a wounded look. 

"Don't touch me," I hissed.

He held out his hands, palms out, making himself look as non-
threatening as possible. "Okay, Michael. I'm sorry. Just calm 
down," he soothed.

"Take me back," I demanded.

"Okay...okay, just...let me get you your clothes," he replied 
easily, his voice soft and calming. "Would you like to wash up 
a little first?"

I blinked, trying to clear my vision so I could read his 
intentions. His eyes were as soft as his voice - clear and 
hazel - pleading for me to trust him. I nodded hesitantly. 

"Okay..." He kept eye contact with me as he pulled a pukish 
green washcloth from the counter, dampening it in the sink and 
handing it to me, being sure to keep his movements slow and 
deliberate. I snatched the cloth and waited until he 
disappeared into the bedroom to retrieve my clothes before I 
began washing the last traces of sex from my body.

******

The ride back was silent. I could feel his eyes on me, the 
worry practically coming off him in waves.

He stopped the car at the corner. I could see Lauren standing 
at her usual post, wisps of smoke curling from the end of her 
cigarette. 

"Are you gonna be okay," he asked worriedly. 

"Fine," I mumbled, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze as I 
let myself out of the car and crossed the street. Lauren's 
eyes widened as I approached, taking in my disheveled 
appearance, my red-rimmed eyes and the dark smudges of the 
small amount of eyeliner I often wear when I'm working, and 
she quickly stamped out her cigarette. 

"Vaughn, love, what happened," she asked, her hand 
automatically going to my arm.

I bit my lip, shaking my head as tears threatened to spill 
again, hating myself for this weakness. "Is he gone?"

Her eyes flicked to the street. "He's leaving now." She guided 
me to the steps of the nearest building, sitting me down and 
gripping my hands tightly. "What happened? Did he hurt you?"

I shook my head. "It wasn't him...he..." I chewed on my lip 
some more. "He held me down and he made me come...he didn't 
know..."

Understanding dawned on her face. "Oh, sweetheart," she 
breathed as she pulled me into her arms. "I'm so sorry," she 
whispered in my ear. I shook my head and curled into her 
protective embrace, my head resting in her lap, closing my 
eyes as she stroked my hair and murmured soothing nonsense to 
me. 

I'm not sure how long we sat there before I heard a car pull 
up and heels click on the sidewalk. A third hand rested on my 
head and a voice called my name. I opened my eyes to find 
Sydney hovering over me, her face worried.

"Did that guy hurt you," she demanded, anger flashing in her 
eyes. She always acted like a mother bear protecting her cubs 
when it came to Lauren and me. 

"He had an episode," Lauren explained when I didn't say 
anything.

Sydney's expression softened. "Oh, honey..."

"I'm fine," I said quickly. I sat up, wiping at my remaining 
tears. "I'll be fine. Just give me a minute."

"No, Vaughn," Sydney protested. "You're not fine. Just take it 
easy. Stay here. Lauren and I will be done in a couple hours. 
One of us will stay with you the whole time and then we'll go 
home." I opened my mouth but she cut me off with a stern shake 
of the head. "Don't argue with me, Michael Vaughn. No more 
tricks tonight. Okay?"

I nodded reluctantly.

*****

I slept on the bed that night, curled between Sydney and 
Lauren, their hands soothing away the stresses of the day. I 
drifted to sleep with Lauren molded to my back, my head 
pillowed on Sydney's breast and a smile on my face as my mind 
replayed the look on both of their faces when I told them I 
had made four hundred dollars off of Will alone.

I didn't get a moment to myself the entire next day. And while 
the hand job Lauren gave me when she followed me into the 
shower was great, I was beginning to feel like I was on 
suicide watch. 

By the time we hit the streets, I had all but forgotten about 
Will and my meltdown. 

"How much time do you think they'd give me for killing one of 
these pigs," Sydney asked rhetorically as the car she had just 
stepped from peeled off down the street, horn honking, the 
driver pumping his fist through the open window and whooping 
drunkenly. 

"Don't worry, I'm sure that guy'll beat you to it," I sneered. 

Sydney chuckled. Then she glanced into the distance and her 
body went stiff, her jaw clenching. I followed her gaze, my 
spirits sinking as I saw the green Ford headed toward us, 
pulling up to the curb several meters away. 

Sydney held out her cigarette to me. "Hold this," she ordered, 
eyes flashing. "I'm gonna go have a talk with this guy."

"No, I'm sure he wants to talk to me," I said. I didn't really 
want to see him again after what had happened, but part of me 
was curious about why he had come back.

"You don't have to do this," Sydney protested.

"It's okay," I said, smiling reassuringly, trying not to show 
how nervous I was. I walked over to the car, took a deep 
breath and leaned in the passenger window. 

"What do you want," I asked as casually as possible.

"A second chance," he said simply.

I laughed. "Are you crazy or just masochistic?"

"Somebody hurt you, didn't they," he asked softly. The 
laughter died in my throat. "And whatever I did last night 
triggered a memory of something they did to you. Am I right?"

I swallowed and gave a small nod. 

He nodded too, something like a pained look in his eyes at 
having his suspicion confirmed. "I want another chance. I want 
to do things right."

I hesitated for several heartbeats, then slowly turned to give 
Sydney and Lauren the signal before climbing into the car.

"You remember how to get to the hotel," I asked, directing the 
question more toward my window than him.

"Actually, I thought we could use the hotel room I already 
have. No sense letting it go to waste."

I shifted awkwardly and nodded. "Fine."

The silence hung in the car for what felt like an eternity.

"Can I ask what I did, exactly, to set you off," he finally 
asked.

"You held me down and made me come," I replied flatly, keeping 
my eyes fixed on the passing scenery outside my window.

"You were raped," he concluded softly. I nodded. His hand came 
to rest gently on mine, silently supportive. "I'm sorry."

I didn't reply, but I couldn't bring myself to pull my hand 
away.

*****

The hotel was not ritzy by a long shot, but it was far nicer 
than the Horizon. At least this one looked clean. 

"What is this for," I asked as he shoved the room service menu 
in my hand shortly after we entered the room. 

"What does it look like? I'm hungry. Pick something you would 
like and I'll order for both of us."

I stared at him in surprise. Was this guy for real? "You 
realize I'm going to have to charge you by the hour."

"Yes, and I don't care." He squeezed my upper arm 
experimentally. "I want you to eat. You could stand to gain 
some weight."

I rolled my eyes and shoved the menu back in his hands. "I 
don't care. I'll eat whatever you get."

"You sure? You're not a vegetarian or anything?"

I snorted. "No."

"Allergies?"

"No."

"Okay," he shrugged and picked up the phone. I kicked off my 
shoes and sprawled out on the bed, enjoying the almost 
forgotten feel of a soft, comfortable mattress. I closed my 
eyes, listening to him order a couple hamburgers and more hors 
d'ouvres than two people could reasonably eat. 'This guy 
certainly has money to throw around,' I thought, no longer 
feeling guilty about over-charging him the night before. 

He hung up and remained silent for several long minutes. I 
cracked my eyes open, wondering if he'd disappeared on me, and 
was startled to find him standing beside the bed, looking down 
at me.

"No, don't move," he protested as I started to sit up. "I was 
just admiring the view."

I smirked and let my hand wander down to play with the edge of 
my T-shirt, subtly hiking it up to expose a little skin. "See 
something you like," I asked huskily.

I nearly screamed in frustration when he responded by sitting 
on the edge of the bed and taking hold of my hand, halting its 
movement. Then he brought the hand to his lips and kissed the 
first knuckle softly. "Thank you for giving me another 
chance," he murmured.

I just watched him silently, unsure of how I was supposed to 
respond. I had learned in this line of business how to deal 
with all sorts of people, but this man was forcing me to throw 
out everything I though I knew about the rest of my gender and 
it was confusing the hell out of me.

"And to answer your question, yes, I do," he said, although I 
had already forgotten the question. "You are a very beautiful 
man. But I'm sure you hear that from a lot of guys."

I nodded dumbly, although most of the compliments I got were 
about my "pretty mouth" or "tight ass". 

He brushed his thumb along my cheek, a thoughtful look on his 
face. "That's part of the reason I'm so attracted to you."

"What's the other part," I asked quietly.

He smiled. "I'm still figuring that out." His thumb wandered 
to my lips. "Is it okay if I kiss you?"

I thought about it for only a moment before nodding. Hell, if 
he was going to start breaking rules, I might as well join 
him. My eyes closed as his lips pressed against mine, his 
touch gentle and fleeting, as if I was made of glass and he 
was afraid I might shatter. I opened my mouth, allowing him 
inside and held back a moan as he tentatively explored every 
inch of my mouth with his tongue. I couldn't remember the last 
time a man had kissed me like that. As if I was his lover 
instead of just a whore. I whimpered softly as his hand cupped 
the back of my head, drawing me closer to him, his kisses 
growing deeper and more passionate. 

The noise made him pull back for a moment. "You okay," he 
murmured against my lips. 

"Yeah," I gasped. 

His lips twitched in a furtive smile before they covered mine 
again, his tongue brushing alongside my own, coaxing a 
response from me. I followed his lead, reaching my hands out 
to blindly fumble with his tie. He caught my hands in his and 
broke the kiss, waiting for my eyes to meet his. "So," he 
asked awkwardly. "You can't come at all?"

"I never said that. I said you can't *force* me to come. It's 
different if I want it."

"Do you," he asked, his fingers tracing soft patterns on the 
skin I had exposed minutes before. 

I gave him my best sexy smile and murmured "Yeah." Hell, as 
long as he kept paying me generously and giving me free food 
I'd do just about anything he asked me to. I'd gladly wear 
fishnet stockings and call myself "Michaela".  

I lost myself in the kiss again, letting him take the lead 
this time. His hands slipped under my T-shirt, smoothing over 
my chest and dragging the material up, bunching it under my 
arms. He broke the kiss and smiled down at me, his thumbs 
brushing lightly against my nipples. I hissed as the attention 
combined with the cool air in the room hardened them in no 
time. Then I gasped as he bent his head to take one stiff peak 
in his mouth. Lauren liked to play with my nipples sometimes, 
but her touch was always teasing and delicate. Never like 
this. Never with teeth biting and tongue dancing around the 
swollen flesh, coaxing it to tighten even more. I groaned as 
Will's hands began tugging at my pants, undoing the zipper and 
pushing them down my hips but not removing them entirely. 

"Yes," I hissed as his hand wrapped around my cock, sliding up 
and down in an agonizingly slow rhythm. After a few strokes, I 
reached down to still his movements. "I'm ready."

He responded by sitting me up and sliding behind me on the bed 
so that I rested between his legs, reclining with my back 
pressed to his still-clothed chest. "I don't want to fuck 
you," he murmured, his lips brushing my ear. "This is just for 
you...this is about giving you pleasure." 

"You're paying to fuck me and you're just gonna give me a hand 
job," I asked incredulously.

"I'm paying by the hour," he reminded me. "There's time for 
more later. Right now, I just wanna watch you come." 

"Can I at least get undressed," I asked, resisting the urge to 
roll my eyes. This guy was optimistic to the point of being 
cocky.

He responded by grabbing the hem of my shirt and tugging 
upward. I lifted my arms to allow him to pull it the rest of 
the way off and managed to remove my pants without leaving the 
bed. 

I shivered as I laid back against him, enjoying the feel of 
his clothes brushing my naked skin. His hands went to my 
nipples, now tender from his earlier ministrations. I moaned 
and let my head drop back onto his shoulder, tilting it to the 
side as he took the opportunity to kiss the exposed skin of my 
throat. "Please," I moaned. I wanted to tell him to get the 
fuck on with it already, but he was really the one controlling 
everything that happened between us. I was just a whore. I had 
to let him do whatever he wanted.

"Please what," he asked in a heated whisper. 

I opened my mouth to tell him to stop fooling around and jerk 
me off already, but his words from the night before rang in my 
head. 'Talking like that makes you sound cheap'. Fine. If he 
wanted a classy hustler, then he'd get one. "Touch me."

I felt him smile against my skin as his hand smoothed over my 
stomach, sliding down to wrap around my fully hardened cock. I 
hissed and bucked into his hand.

"Easy," he murmured. 

'What am I, a horse?' I rolled my eyes, but stilled my hips 
anyway.

"I want you to be honest with me," he said softly. "Don't fake 
pleasure just to bolster my ego. Let go. When you're with me I 
want you to be yourself - not Michael the prostitute from 
fourth street. Just Michael. I want to see *you*."

The fingers on the hand not wrapped around my cock drifted 
lower, slipping gently inside my prepared opening. I spread my 
legs, draping them on either side of his and letting myself go 
boneless in his arms, resigned to simply riding out this 
experience. I grunted as he opened my legs even further with 
his knees hooked under mine, spreading me obscenely wide. I 
couldn't move my hips very far from my new position, so I 
could only give a tiny jerk as his fingers found my prostate. 
I moaned loudly, my hands scrabbling to find purchase on the 
white linen sheets as I started to lose my grip on reality. It 
was rare that I let myself lose control with a John, but then 
nothing about this John had been by the book so far.

"That's it...let go," he encouraged, his fingers rubbing 
harder, his hand stroking with just the right amount of 
pressure, doing an expert twist at the top of each stroke to 
spread the pre-ejac leaking from me, coating me to ease the 
friction so that he was free to use a tighter grip and rougher 
strokes.

I yelped when I came, clinging to Will, the sheets, my own 
thigh - anything I could get hold of. I felt his lips brushing 
my temple and cheek as I came back down, panting from the 
force of my unexpectedly quick orgasm. 

"You're even more beautiful when you come," he murmured 
quietly, almost to himself.

I jumped when a loud knock sounded through the room. "Room 
service," a muffled voice called from just outside the door.

"That was quick," Will observed, sounding vaguely 
disappointed. He slid out from behind me, lowering my mostly 
lax body to a pile of soft pillows and tugging a blanket over 
me. He kissed me again, briefly, before going to open the 
door. I forced my sluggish body into a sitting position as a 
man wheeled the service cart into the room and Will handed him 
a tip. He bowed his head in gratitude and exited the room, 
seemingly not even noticing my presence. I was used to people 
looking through me - the ones who didn't look at me with 
blatant disgust at least - but I found it amusing that 
homosexuality had become such a way of life in this city that 
even in the richer parts of town nobody would bat an eye at 
the sight of a naked man in another man's bed. 

"You gonna get over here or do I have to bring it to you," 
Will asked teasingly as he set the food out on the small 
table. 

I stepped out of bed gingerly, testing my slightly wobbling 
knees, and reached for my pants. 

"There's a bathrobe behind that door," he said, waving in the 
direction of what I presumed was the bathroom. "You can just 
wear that."

I hesitated. This entire situation had become completely 
surreal. He was treating me more like a lover than a paid 
companion. Part of me wanted for it to be real - wanted to let 
go and enjoy the treatment. But deep down I knew it was a lie. 
It was only a matter of time before his illusion was shattered 
- before he realized that he couldn't save me from this life 
and that I could never allow myself to fall for him. He would 
grow bored and he would leave. Either way I would go back to 
quick fucks from greasy men in the back of random SUVs. If I 
let him get to me, it would only make the adjustment that much 
more difficult. 

I retrieved the robe obediently and sat at the table, staring 
at the hamburger on the plate in front of me, wondering if I 
should tell him I wasn't hungry after all. It would be a lie, 
yes, but it might be better than justifying his behavior.

"Something wrong," he asked, shaking me from my internal 
debate. He was already part-way through his own hamburger and 
rapidly demolishing his plate of fries. 

"I'm not Julia Roberts," I muttered.

He paused, mid-chew. "What?"

"I'm not Julia Roberts," I repeated, louder. "And I hate to 
break it to you, but you're no Richard Gere."

He swallowed a mouthful of hamburger and smiled. "I know that, 
Michael. I don't have any expectations. I just know that I 
feel drawn to you. I want to make you happy, even if it's only 
for a little while. Now eat. You must be starving."

My resistance weakened a little bit more. I could do this. I 
could handle playing house with him for a while and still go 
back to my life. Maybe the knowledge that somewhere out there 
nice guys still exist would give me hope and Sydney and Lauren 
could stop worrying about me so damn much. "Vaughn," I said 
quietly. "Call me Vaughn." If I was going to do this there was 
no way in hell I was going to risk thinking of him every time 
another John said my name.

I picked up my hamburger and began eating, realizing quickly 
that I was more hungry than I had thought. I was halfway 
through my plate when I caught him smiling at me. 

"What," I asked around a mouthful of fries. 

He shook his head, still smiling, and plucked a chicken wing 
from the appetizer plate. "Nothing."

******

When we'd both had our fill, I glanced at the clock. "Looks 
like we're starting on your second hour already." I stood up 
and circled the table, straddling his lap as gracefully as I 
could manage.

"I'm not in a hurry," he lied, even though I could clearly see 
the tent in his slacks. "We can take our time. Unless you have 
somewhere else to be..."

I sighed. "If you're not going to fuck me then what the hell 
else were you planing on doing?" 

He stroked his thumb gently along the line of my jaw, looking 
unnervingly deep into my eyes. "We could just talk. I want to 
get to know you."

"Great," I groaned, slipping off his lap to land in the chair 
next to his, reaching for the still partially full platter on 
the table. 

"If it makes you uncomfortable..."

"No," I grumbled as I slumped in the chair, nibbling idly on a 
piece of shrimp. "Ask away."

"You said you were arrested for possession," he began 
hesitantly. "Of what?"

"Crack cocaine. It wasn't mine, but that didn't matter. I was 
stupid enough to agree to hang on to it for my friend."

"So you weren't actually doing drugs..."

"Not cocaine, no, but I had done drugs a few times. I'm clean 
now, if that's what you're asking." 

"I wasn't, but that's good to know anyway," he said. "What 
about your parents? Couldn't you have gone to them for help 
when you were released?"

I snorted. "My father died when I was eight. He was a 
government agent...killed in the line of duty. I couldn't deal 
with it. I became one of those 'problem kids' that nobody 
wants to work with. My mother couldn't take the stress. She 
went back to France once I turned eighteen and went off to 
college. We don't talk much."

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

'Fuck you,' I thought. I hated when people tried to sympathize 
with me. They never really knew what it was like.

"So this guy...your employer...he offered you a job?"

"He offered me food and a place to stay. The job came later." 

Will looked horrified. "He offered you food and shelter and 
then made it conditional on your employment in his harem?"

"Something like that," I admitted reluctantly. Actually, it 
had started out as odd jobs around the building - repair, 
cleaning - and graduated to prostitution.

"Vaughn, that's illegal. He took advantage of you!"

"I knew what I was getting into," I snapped defensively. "I 
could have turned him down. I wouldn't have been the first one 
to walk away."

"What other options did you have," Will argued. "You were a 
former prison inmate with no money. He was probably counting 
on that to work in his favor."

"Stop," I hissed. "I'm here because I made a stupid mistake. 
The rate I was going I was bound to end up in jail one way or 
another. I'm not angry with Sloane for what he did. He has 
treated me well and he gave me a job when nobody else would."

Will went silent.

"He may be creepy and controlling, but it was either stay with 
him or starve to death in a cardboard box under a bridge," I 
continued. "Even if I wanted to turn him in, I can't go back 
to that. And what would happen to the girls? Most of them are 
in the same boat I am. I couldn't do that to them."

A long, uncomfortable silence followed my speech. I tossed the 
half-eaten shrimp back onto the tray, no longer hungry. 

"How many girls are there," he finally asked tentatively.

"A dozen maybe. Some of them only stay a month or so - I don't 
really keep track."

"Those girls you are with every night...You seem really close 
to them."

"They're the only family I have now. Which is pretty fucked up 
considering the stuff we do together, but they're more than 
just friends."

He squinted his eyes in confusion. "You guys are lovers?"

I laughed. "Love is not a word we use in this profession. But 
yeah, something like that. Sydney still talks to her father 
sometimes, but her mother died when she was young. Lauren 
stopped talking to her parents years ago. All we've got is 
each other."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Almost thirteen years." Twelve years, seven months and 
twenty-three days to be precise. 

He blew out a heavy breath. "Most prostitutes don't survive 
that long in the business."

I frowned. "How would you know? Have you been studying up on 
us?"

He looked momentarily startled. "Uh...I read a figure 
somewhere."

"Yeah, well...most of the prostitutes they take into account 
in research are drug users who don't use protection. I'm 
always careful and I've been clean since prison."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Do you ever wish you could start 
over?"

I looked him in the eye and gave him the same answer I had 
once given Sydney and Lauren. "Every day. But I can't. It 
happened. I made a mistake and I have to live with it."

He stood suddenly and leaned over me, cupping my chin in one 
hand and tilting my face toward his. "Don't ever give up 
hope," he said quietly. Then he kissed me, gently, his lips 
coaxing a response from mine. "Bed," he murmured, his voice 
muffled by my mouth. 

'Finally,' I thought with relief. I stood and let him guide me 
to the now rumpled bed. He undid the belt on my robe and let 
it fall open, his eyes roving up and down my body 
appreciatively as it was revealed. His hands stroked over my 
chest, sliding around to my back to pull me closer to him. I 
hummed at the feel of his clothed body pressed to mine, the 
soft, textured fabric warmed by the heat of his skin. His 
hands massaged my back while his lips traced a warm, wet path 
from my collarbone to my ear. 

"I want to make this good for you," he rasped, his voice low 
and seductive. "But you have to be honest with me. Don't fake 
it."

"I'll try," I replied honestly. After so many years, I wasn't 
even sure I remembered how to have sex with a guy without 
having to pretend to enjoy it. I gasped as Will's hands cupped 
my ass, pulling my body flush with his, letting his hard cock 
press against mine through the thin layers of fabric.

"Right pocket," he whispered. I slipped my hand into the right 
pocket of his slacks and he shook his head. "Your right 
pocket."

I hesitated before reaching into the right pocket of my robe. 
My fingers closed around a familiar object, drawing it out and 
holding it up so I could take a closer look. It was a condom 
packet, but it was one of the fancier varieties. The brightly 
colored wrapper declared that it was ribbed *and* pre-
lubricated for added pleasure. I groaned. "You had this all 
planned out, didn't you?"

He smiled. "Yep." He pushed me gently and I fell back onto the 
mattress. I let my thighs fall apart, offering him an 
unobstructed view. He knelt over me, resting on his left elbow 
while his right hand stroked up the inside of my thigh until 
he found my artificially slickened opening. 

He muffled my groan with a kiss as he slipped two fingers 
inside me, stretching my already loosened muscles. "You don't 
have to do that," I reminded him when he finally let me up for 
air.

"I want to," he murmured. His hand stilled, his fingers still 
firmly entrenched. "Vaughn, look at me." 

I groaned impatiently, but met his gaze unquestioningly. 

"I don't want you to feel anything but pleasure here," he 
said, his voice taking on a serious, almost grave quality. 
"You are in control. If I do something you don't like or 
something that hurts you I want you to tell me and I'll stop, 
no questions asked."

I nodded, his seemingly genuine concern leaving me speechless. 
He smiled softly and I felt a third finger slide into me, 
stretching me even further. I gasped, my hips bucking against 
him as he rotated his fingers suddenly and rubbed deliberately 
against my prostate. His smile widened and he repeated the 
move, dragging a low groan out of me. By the time he added a 
fourth finger he had my hips rocking steadily against his 
hand. 

"Now," I begged. "Please..."

I bit back a whimper when his hand pulled away and blinked 
away the growing haze to watch as he stood up and stripped his 
clothes off unceremoniously. I ripped open the condom packet 
while he positioned himself on his hands and knees over me. He 
kept his eyes locked on mine as I gave him a couple firm 
strokes and unrolled the condom over his generous cock. I 
smiled at him and nodded, giving him permission, and spread my 
legs wide, tilting my hips toward him invitingly. 

I gasped as he sank into me without any further warning. 

"Did I hurt you," he asked, alarmed.

"No," I replied quickly. Actually, it was the first time 
possibly ever that I had been breached with so little initial 
pain. I wasn't sure it could even be considered pain. There 
was only stretching and a dull, throbbing pressure. 

"Are you sure," he asked hesitantly, his body still frozen 
over me.

I slid my hands over his shoulders, massaging his tense 
muscles lightly. "Yeah. It's just that you're so big."

"Vaughn," he said warningly. 

"No, I mean it," I interrupted honestly. "Most guys hire 
prostitutes because they're impotent or just lousy lovers. 
Either way they tend to have tiny dicks."

He chuckled and rocked his hips in a subtle thrusting motion. 
"Ah. So I'm just bigger than the average impotent man with a 
small cock."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "We can measure it later. Now 
move, please!" I dropped my hands to cup his ass and pulled 
him in tighter, bringing my knees up over his shoulders with 
his help. I closed my eyes with a deep, mostly-involuntary 
moan as he began to move in long, deep thrusts. 

After so many years in the prostitution business, sex had 
become boring and routine. Will was only the fourth person to 
get me to come with a dick up my ass. The first guy had been 
my college roommate. We were both higher than a kite and horny 
as hell. I remember thinking it felt good, but it was 
basically just a blur. The only proof I had of the encounter 
the next morning was my sore muscles, an ache in my ass and 
the used condoms strewn around the bed where Tippin had 
carelessly dropped them. The second man had been my lover and 
the dissolution of our relationship made even thinking about 
him painful. The third time had been anything but pleasurable. 
After my physical injuries had healed I had gone right back to 
work out of necessity, but it had been weeks before I was able 
to let a John fuck me without throwing up afterward. And now 
Will... well, he had a bruise forming on his chin to show for 
his status as guy number four. 

I ran my fingers carefully along the purpling skin. "I'm 
sorry," I whispered.

"It's okay," he said gently, his thrusts slowing only 
slightly. "It was my fault."

I gasped suddenly as his cock hit me at just the right angle, 
sending a bolt of pleasure up my spine. 

Will caught my hand as it slipped from his cheek. He pressed a 
kiss to my palm and guided my hand down between our bodies, 
wrapping it around my bobbing length. I understood. He was 
giving me control - making sure that what happened before 
wouldn't happen again. My lips formed a silent thanks as my 
voice caught in my throat. 

"Look at me," he said softly. "Keep your eyes open."

I nodded, unsure whether he was more concerned with seeing me 
or making sure that I saw him and not my rapist, and kept my 
eyes locked on his as our rhythm grew faster and sloppier. 

It only took a few more thrusts from him and strokes of my own 
hand for me to come. I managed to keep my eyes open, seeing 
his eyes darken as he witnessed my orgasm. I whimpered as his 
thrusts grew wild in his own race toward the finish line, 
stimulating my sensitive nerves. He came with a grunt, pulsing 
hotly inside me, and collapsed to his elbows, his forehead 
dropping to rest on my shoulder, careful to keep his upper 
body from crushing me. 

I groaned when he recovered and pulled out of me gently, 
disposing of the condom and staggering to the bathroom briefly 
to retrieve a wet washcloth so he could clean the semen from 
me.

"I was raped a year ago," I began quietly. "It wasn't the 
first time, but it was definitely the worst." He paused in his 
ministrations, but continued, encouraging me to keep going 
with his soothing touch. "There were three of them. One of 
them - the John - drove me to an alley. Further away than 
usual. I didn't question him. When we got there, the other two 
pulled me out of the car and beat me. Once I realized there 
was nothing I could do to defend myself they began tearing at 
my clothes." I swallowed painfully. "They took turns. Two 
holding me down while the other fucked me. One of them put a 
gun to my head. He told me he would kill me if I screamed." I 
sobbed quietly as Will finished cleaning me and silently drew 
me into his arms, tugging the robe I had never bothered to 
remove tighter around my body. "It hurt so much...I was sure 
they would kill me no matter what I did, but I was so scared I 
couldn't do anything but lay there." I took a deep breath. 
"The John was last. By that point I was beyond pain and my 
body started to respond. I got hard...they laughed...called me 
a fucking cock whore and refocused their attention on making 
me come. I couldn't stop crying, which only made them taunt me 
even more. But I did it...I came. I hated myself for it. They 
said it proved that I enjoyed it. That I liked being fucked 
until I bled..." 

I paused, taking another deep breath as I felt Will's arms 
tighten around me, his hand coming up to stroke my hair. "They 
left me in that alley. Half naked...bleeding...in pain. I was 
too scared to yell for help. So I struggled to put my clothes 
back on, even though it hurt so much I wanted to scream... I 
managed to crawl to the nearest pay phone and used what little 
money they had left me to call Sydney and Lauren." I blinked 
as my vision blurred with tears. I dimly felt Will slip his 
hand into mine, squeezing supportively. "I passed out. The 
next thing I remember is Sydney shouting in my ear - demanding 
to know where I was hurt and pulling me out of the phone 
booth. I could hear Lauren crying. Sloane was with them. He 
carried me to his car. The girls held me the whole way back, 
trying to keep me comfortable. I screamed every time Sloane 
hit a bump in the road.

"I had never seen Sloane act like he cared so much about me. 
He got a doctor to come to the apartment and patch me up. He 
paid for the visits, the medications...everything. The girls 
took care of me day and night. Forcing medication down my 
throat... holding me when the pain and the nightmares got 
really bad. Sloane let them take alternating shifts - every 
other night - so one of them would always be with me. They got 
me through the worst time of my life." 

"Did they catch the guys who did it," Will asked gently.

"No," I spit. "I couldn't exactly go to the cops. Besides, I'm 
a hustler. If I was a teenage girl, people would be motivated 
to catch those guys, but when a prostitute is raped - 
especially a male prostitute - nobody cares. They think we 
bring it on ourselves or maybe that we deserve it." 

"Hey," Will said harshly, griping my hand almost painfully 
tight. "*Nobody* deserves to have somebody do that to them. I 
don't care what they do for a living. No human being should be 
treated like that." 

I sighed. "I know...but not everybody understands what our 
lives are like. They refuse to think about the circumstances 
that might lead a person to sell their body for a living." I 
lay in silence for several moments, listening to Will's 
heartbeat. Then I detangled myself from him awkwardly. "I 
should probably go."

He caught my arm before I even reached the edge of the bed. 
"Not yet."

I sighed again, but I wasn't going to argue about it this 
time. And honestly, the thought of going back out on the 
street so a few more guys could pull my hair while I sucked 
them off was less than appealing. I straddled his hips, 
shivering as the cool air brushed my still damp skin. 

"Can we at least talk about something else?" 

He slid his hands beneath the robe and massaged the backs of 
my thighs. "Like what," he asked softly.

"We've been talking about me for the last hour. It's your 
turn."

He froze and seemed to wage an internal debate for several 
long moments. "I don't want to bore you," he finally said.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not asking for your life story. Just... 
tell me what you do for a living at least." 

He bit his lip and looked off to the side for a moment as if 
he would find the answer on the wall of the room. "I'm a 
behavioral psychologist."

I stared at him for a good ten seconds while that sunk in 
before I burst out laughing. 

"What," he asked, wide eyed.

"Nothing," I said between chuckles. "I'm just enjoying the 
irony that I can spill my guts to you and *you* have to pay 
*me* by the hour for it."

He smiled. "Nice to know that I amuse you."

"Mmmhmm...so, I take it from the lack of a ring on your finger 
that you're not married."

He snorted. "No, although I was. Briefly. She left me after 
she came home early one night to find me...experimenting with 
a male co-worker."

I burst into laughter at the thought of Will's poor ex-wife 
literally catching him with his pants down. When I recovered I 
noticed that Will had grown silent, staring at me with 
something akin to awe. 

He brushed his thumb over my cheek, his focus drawn to the 
dimples I knew had to be showing. "I think that's the first 
time I've seen you truly smile," he murmured. "It's 
beautiful."

My smile faltered. This guy was determined to make this 
difficult for me. I wasn't sure I could handle playing 
boyfriend to him if he was going to take it so seriously. "I 
should really go," I said again. This time I didn't get 
further than a fraction of an inch before his hands stopped 
me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

I stared at a random spot on the sheets, avoiding his gaze. 
"No, I just...I don't want the girls to worry." It was mostly 
true. 

Will cupped my face in his hands and forced my eyes to meet 
his. "Vaughn...I promise I don't want to hurt you. Don't run 
away from me, please."

I pried his hands from my face gently. "I'm not running away. 
I just..." I bit my lip. What was I doing? "I think I've had 
enough for one night. I should be getting back."

He accepted this with obvious reluctance and skepticism, 
letting me leave the bed to get dressed with one last kiss and 
a gentle squeeze of my thigh.

******

Sydney was waiting impatiently when Will returned me to our 
corner. The second I was within range, she threw her arms 
around my neck and hugged me like a mother being reunited with 
her lost child. "Are you okay," she asked. 

"Better than okay, actually," I said, leaning back in her arms 
and pulling out the wad of cash Will had given me, holding it 
up for her to see. Her eyes widened with shock and disbelief 
and she looked to me, silently demanding further explanation. 
"It's a long story."

*******
(2 hours later, Vaughn's apartment)

"Why do you have all the luck," Lauren groaned. "I'm off 
getting shagged by drunken frat mates and - I'm pretty sure - 
a wifebeater while you're having a three course meal and 
getting the top of your head blown off by Don Juan." She took 
a sip of cheap wine and waved her glass at me. "He's probably 
an axe murderer, you know."

I finished my own glass of wine and sighed. "He's not an axe 
murderer."

"No, Lauren has a point," Sydney argued, sipping daintily at 
her glass. "No guy is that perfect. He's hiding something. He 
could be a sociopath for all we know."

I laughed, leaning back on the beaten couch as I started to 
feel light headed from the alcohol. "He's not perfect. He's 
just...naïve. Inexperienced maybe. He thinks of me as his 
date."

Lauren made a noise that was somewhere between amusement and 
disbelief. "Well when he pulls out a set of hunting knives and 
tries to sacrifice you to the Lord of Darkness just remember: 
I told you so." 

I squinted at her. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

She leapt at the opening I gave her, setting her empty glass 
on the table and giving me her best innocent look. "I'm sorry, 
daddy. I've been a bad girl. Are you going to spank me?"

"You have a sick sense of humor, Reed," I responded dryly.

She smiled brightly and climbed into my lap. "And you love me 
for it," she purred, punctuating her words with a kiss.

Sydney sighed and set her wine glass down on the table. "I'm 
going to take a bath," she announced, standing up. "My back is 
killing me. Anyone want to join me before I use up the hot 
water?"

"God, yes," Lauren groaned, sliding from my lap and following 
Sydney to the bathroom like an eager puppy. I smiled as I 
watched them go. Will was right - most prostitutes didn't 
survive as long as I had in this business. But most 
prostitutes didn't have people like Lauren and Sydney to keep 
them sane.

I leaned back into the couch, feeling suddenly drowsy thanks 
to the combined effects of the long day and the cheap alcohol, 
and thought about the points the girls had brought up. Sydney 
was right - no guy is that perfect. Maybe he did have a 
secret, but I doubted he would want to hurt me. At least not 
physically. He just didn't seem capable of that kind of 
cruelty. I sighed as I thought about the gentle, almost 
reverent way he had touched me, the warmth in his eyes when he 
looked at me. Fuck. Two nights and I was already starting to 
get stars in my eyes over this guy. 'I must be losing it,' I 
thought. 

My train of thought was interrupted by a splash and a groan 
coming from the bathroom. I got up, put the glasses and wine 
bottle in the kitchen and went to check on the girls. I found 
Sydney lounging between Lauren's spread legs, her head resting 
on the blonde's shoulder, sighing in pleasurable relief as 
Lauren's hands kneaded the tense muscles of her lower back. I 
knelt beside the tub and brushed a stray lock of hair behind 
Sydney's ear. "I'm getting really tired. I think I'm just 
going to go to bed."

"Hmmm," Sydney nodded, not even bothering to open her eyes. 
"Okay. I'll be right there," she said absently. 

I smirked. I knew from experience just how good Lauren's 
massages could be. And from the looks of it, this one was 
practically orgasmic.

Lauren smirked and reached one hand around to cup Sydney's 
breast, stroking suggestively. "You sure you don't want to 
join us? I think we could make room," she teased.

Sydney cracked one eye open and twisted her head around to 
glare at Lauren. "Hey, finish what you started!"

Lauren giggled and returned to her massage. I shook my head 
and kissed both girls before leaving them to their bath. I 
shuffled into the bedroom, depositing my clothes haphazardly 
all over the floor - too tired to put them away - and crawled 
into bed naked. I drifted to sleep wondering if and when I 
would see Will again.

******

I awoke when the mattress dipped suddenly and a pair of 
slender arms wrapped around me, a soft, warm body pressing 
against my back. I smiled and ran my fingers along one still-
damp arm. I didn't have to look to know who it was - I could 
tell the girls apart with my eyes closed.

"Where's Lauren," I asked, trying to shake the sleepiness from 
my voice.

"Kitchen," Sydney answered. "I think she's dehydrated."

I turned my head to look at her. She wore only a towel and her 
partially dried hair was creating tiny rivulets along her bare 
shoulders. "I'm guessing you're partly to blame for that."

She smiled impishly. "Maybe." She kissed me, her tongue 
prodding mine insistently. 

I slipped my hand between her legs to confirm what I could 
have guessed already, my fingers sliding along wet, swollen 
flesh. Lauren had clearly given her more than a back massage. 

Sex between the three of us was usually more about comfort and 
affection than pleasure, although it was nice at times to 
remind ourselves that sex could be pleasurable and not just 
about business. Unfortunately, Sydney tended to be hornier 
after orgasm than before and if Lauren was already worn out 
that meant it was my turn.

"Must've been a really good massage," I said dryly.

"Mmmhmm, you should try it sometime," she murmured. "Lauren's 
a *great* masseuse."

"I'll keep that in mind." I rolled over and slipped two 
fingers deep into her, immediately finding the patch of 
textured skin on her front wall and rubbing my thumb in gentle 
circles over her clit.

She groaned. "You're getting good at that."

"I learned from the master."

She reached down suddenly and drew my hand away. "Lay back," 
she ordered, her own hand wrapping around my flaccid length, 
coaxing it to life.

I grunted in surprise. "Are you sure?" Usually we just 
pleasured each other with our hands and, occasionally, our 
mouths. She nodded and produced a condom seemingly out of thin 
air.

She slithered down my body and nudged my legs open, rubbing 
insistently at the spot between my balls and anus with two 
fingers, massaging my prostate from the outside in an effort 
to bring me to full erection. I closed my eyes, trying to 
focus on the sensations she was creating.

"Are you thinking of him," she asked softly.

Will's face leapt instantly to my mind. "I am now," I 
grumbled.

"Good," she purred, punctuating her statement by plunging one 
finger inside me and rubbing more directly against my 
prostate. I groaned as my cock leapt instantly to attention. I 
had to hand it to her - she always knew how to get exactly 
what she wanted.

She ripped off her towel unceremoniously and threw it on the 
floor along with my clothes. She got the condom on me in no 
time and within seconds I was inside her soft, wet heat. She 
groaned and began rocking slowly. I raised my knees behind her 
and gently plucked at her swollen clit with my fingers.

Lauren came in the room, towel wrapped around her, a glass of 
water in one hand and sighed loudly. "Would it kill you to put 
your clothes away, Vaughn?" She began snatching items of 
clothing from the floor, laying them over the back of a chair.

"Kind of...busy right now," I gasped.

"I see that. I'm just saying that for future reference it is 
in your best interest to remember that I'm not your maid. And 
that goes for you too," she said as she folded Sydney's towel 
and placed it on the seat. Then she removed her own towel, 
folded it, and placed it on top of Sydney's. She came over to 
stand by the bed. "Your turn to tame the beast, eh," she asked 
as if just noticing what was going on.

"Yeah," I shot back. "Why am I always...getting your sloppy 
seconds?" I yelped as Sydney reached back and caught my 
testicles in a vice grip. 

"What was that, Vaughn? I didn't hear you," she panted.

"Nothing dear," I said through clenched teeth. 

She nodded and let go. "I thought so."

Lauren set her glass down on the side table and climbed onto 
the bed, pulling my legs down a bit and molding herself to 
Sydney's back. She moved with Sydney, controlling the speed 
and depth of her thrusts, her hands cupping Sydney's breasts, 
stroking her thighs, massaging her clit. Sydney moaned and dug 
her fingers into Lauren's thighs. They kissed sloppily as they 
moved and I contented myself with watching them, brushing my 
own fingers restlessly up and down Sydney's quivering thighs. 

I heard them whisper indistinctly to each other and suddenly 
Sydney was lifting herself up and away from me. She turned and 
Lauren helped her lay back down on top of me, spreading her 
legs so they fell on either side of mine and tilting her hips 
downward. I followed their lead, rolling my hips back and 
letting Lauren guide me back inside Sydney. In this position, 
I was the one in control. I thrust up into her powerfully, 
knowing that at this angle I had to be brushing against her G-
spot. "Now," she moaned.

I wasn't sure who she was talking to until I felt Lauren 
plunge two fingers inside me. I hissed and bucked against 
Sydney, thrusting erratically. Sydney also began moving 
restlessly and I realized that Lauren's other hand was busy 
working her clit. The room became blurry and I realized that I 
was getting close to finishing without her. I managed to cup 
her right breast in my hand, working my thumb over the nipple 
and settled my left hand over her abdomen, pressing down 
firmly and, hopefully, bringing my cock more firmly into 
contact with her G-spot. She flailed, her right hand grabbing 
a fistful of my hair and pulling me in for a kiss, wailing her 
pleasure into my mouth. I gave a muffled groan in return as I 
came right behind her, clenching around Lauren's still-
thrusting fingers, my own thrusts slowing to a stop.

Sydney recovered first, slipping off of me with less than her 
usual grace. Pulling the condom from me and stumbling off to 
the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. 

I turned my head to Lauren, feeling my body sink further into 
the bed with exhaustion. "What about y..." I couldn't stop the 
yawn from slipping out, cutting me off.

She chuckled. "I think I've had enough for one night." She 
stroked my hair soothingly and kissed my forehead. 

"Love you," I murmured sleepily.

Her lips brushed mine, but I was too tired to respond to her 
kiss. "We love you too, Vaughn," she whispered as I drifted 
into unconsciousness.

******
(Two nights later)

"Fuck that feels good," the John hissed for the second time.

I groaned and continued to rock in his lap, taking care not to 
hit my head on the roof of the car or otherwise injure myself 
in the cramped space of the vehicle. He had pushed his seat 
back once he had pulled around the corner and put the car in 
park, but he was a big guy and I was still wedged between him 
and the steering wheel. 

"Yes," I moaned theatrically. I steeled myself as he licked 
sloppily at my neck, sucking at my skin like a nervous, horny 
teenager. "You're so big, baby," I lied. I squeezed my muscles 
around him, hoping to speed the process a little. He grunted 
and came within a few strokes. I groaned and squirmed 
convincingly, slipping off his lap the second he was finished 
and struggling to put my pants back on in the cramped 
quarters. I checked to make sure the hundred dollars he had 
given me was still in my pocket and waited for him to compose 
himself.

"Shit, that was amazing," he said as he disposed of the condom 
and tucked himself back into his pants. I just stared out the 
window silently while he drove me back to our corner. 

I slipped my hand up the inside of his thigh and squeezed 
lightly. "See you around, baby," I husked before I stepped out 
of the car, holding back my shiver of revulsion until after he 
had driven off. I froze as I saw a familiar black sedan 
waiting at the curb. Both Sydney and Lauren appeared to be 
gone for the moment so I approached the sedan cautiously, 
leaning in the already open passenger window.

"Waiting for Sydney," I asked casually.

"No," he said, his tone cool and businesslike. "Get in."

I climbed into the car and he drove to my usual alley without 
another word. He cut the ignition and we sat in silence for 
several moments.

"You can't keep avoiding her, Mr. Bristow," I finally said 
softly.

He immediately leapt on the defensive. "I've told you not to 
call me that. And I'm not avoiding her. She's made it very 
clear that she doesn't want to see me."

"That doesn't mean you should give up. She can't stay mad at 
you forever," I argued.

"My relationship with my daughter is my concern, not yours," 
he said, icily calm. He paused and his voice suddenly took on 
a more concerned tone. "How is she?"

I sighed. "She's fine, Jack. Same as always."

Jack nodded, his lips pursed tightly. I knew the rift in his 
relationship with Sydney stemmed at least partly from the fact 
that it pained him to see his daughter whore herself out for 
cash. He had offered many times to lend her money, but she was 
too proud to accept. They had argued over it many times, often 
at full volume, until Jack finally found an alternative 
solution. He knew the three of us lived together and pooled 
our resources regularly. Giving money to either Lauren or me 
was his way of helping out Sydney. She knew he did it, but she 
had to accept it since the money had been legitimately earned. 
Lauren and I had agreed we wouldn't let him give it to us for 
nothing. Sydney wasn't the only one defending her pride after 
all. Jack understood this and accepted it.

He stared unflinchingly ahead as I reached over to undo his 
slacks. I unrolled one of my own condoms on him, more out of 
habit than anything else since I knew he was clean, and took 
him in my mouth without a word. Sucking off Jack Bristow was 
never an easy job, and it wasn't just because he was Sydney's 
father. He was difficult to arouse and it always seemed to 
take a ridiculously long time for him to come. Then again, he 
didn't come to us because he wanted to get off. He came to us 
because he wanted to do something for Sydney and because 
talking to us brought him closer to her in a way. He probably 
secretly hoped that one day we would give up and just take the 
money, no stings attached. 

He came with a soft grunt, his hips tightly controlled and his 
hands fisted at his sides as usual. He quickly and efficiently 
disposed of the condom and restored his clothing to it's 
original state. Then he handed me several bills and I shoved 
them into my pocket without even looking. It didn't matter. He 
always overpaid, but protesting wouldn't do any good because 
he always refused to take back the excess. 

He drove me back to the corner in silence.

I sighed. "She loves you, Jack. She just has a hard time 
saying it. I guess the apple didn't fall far from the tree." I 
reached for the door handle but he stopped me with a strong 
grip on my arm.

"Thank you," he said, managing to pack more meaning into those 
two words than most people could in an entire sentence. I 
leaned over to kiss his cheek. He gave my arm a gentle squeeze 
before releasing me. "Take care of yourself," he said kindly. 
'And my daughter,' his eyes pleaded. 

I nodded and stepped out of the car, crossing the street to 
join the girls, who had returned sometime during my absence. 
Sydney stared at the ground, her posture rigid, refusing to 
acknowledge her father's presence as he drove away. 

Lauren ducked neatly around the subject. "Your boyfriend was 
here," she said with a wink. I stared at her blankly. "Green 
Ford, dark hair, charming smile?"

My heart beat a little faster in spite of myself. "When?"

"Not long ago. He said he'd come back in a bit."

She handed me her cigarette and I took it gratefully, trying 
to force myself to appear unconcerned even though my stomach 
was twisting with nervous anxiety. 

"He said we shouldn't wait up for you," she continued. "He 
wants you for the whole night."

My breath stopped momentarily and my eyes widened. "The whole 
night," I repeated dumbly. 

She smirked and took her cigarette back. "Yep," she said 
between puffs. "So how much of a head start do you want us to 
give you before we call the police?"

I groaned. "He's not going to kill me Lauren." 

"Well, maybe not *intentionally* but from the sound of it he 
could easily fuck you to death." She looked thoughtful for a 
moment. "Maybe we should let him. After all you would 
certainly enjoy it. At least you'd die happy."

Lauren yelped as Sydney recovered from her pout and poked her 
in the ribs. "Stop that," she scolded. 

A strangely giddy feeling spread through me as I spotted 
Will's car approaching the curb. 

Sydney grabbed my hand, her voice turning serious. "Be 
careful."

"I will," I promised, kissing her cheek and squeezing her hand 
before taking off in the direction of the green Ford. 

"Did they tell you..." Will began as I hopped in the passenger 
seat. 

"Yeah," I interrupted with a nervous but hopeful smile. "Let's 
do it."

******

I moaned loudly, my back arching from the bed, clenching the 
plump hotel pillows in my fists as Will gave me the best 
blowjob any man had ever given me. He was ridiculously good at 
it - his limber tongue doing things to me that I didn't think 
most men even knew how to do - some of which *I* hadn't even 
know about. I cried out as I came, thrusting into his mouth 
wildly.

I barely registered his hands removing the used condom from 
me, disposing of it quickly. He didn't give me a chance to 
recover before flipping me over and plunging his cock into my 
prepared opening. I groaned and braced myself on my hands and 
knees as he began pumping in and out with long, deep strokes.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you last night," he gasped, 
his warm breath tickling my ear. "Couldn't stop picturing how 
beautiful you looked...all splayed out on the bed, nervous... 
how gorgeous you looked when you came." He groaned, his hips 
stuttering against mine. "How goddamn amazing you feel."

I shivered and rolled my hips to meet his powerful thrusts,
hissing as he reached one hand back to wrap around my cock. 
"Yes," I moaned.

"Yes what," he asked huskily.

I whimpered, feeling my muscles tighten one by one. "More."

He pulled me into his arms abruptly, sitting back on his heels 
and taking me with him so that I straddled his hips, his cock 
still deep inside me, my back arching almost painfully. He had 
to let go of my cock to support me with both hands and I 
quickly picked up where he had left off, pulling almost 
desperately at my throbbing length. "Oh fuck," I wailed as he 
fucked me from below, his hips snapping in a brutal staccato 
rhythm, hitting me at just the right angle.

My eyes rolled back in my head and I yelped as a second orgasm 
rolled through me. Only a tiny amount of fluid dribbled from 
my cock, but I shook violently, barely aware of my 
surroundings as Will lowered me to the bed and thrust a few 
more times in my spasming channel before coming himself. I 
shivered and whimpered helplessly as he pulled out of me, 
allowing the cool air to assault my overheated and sensitive 
skin. I heard him remove the condom before gentle hands rolled 
me onto my back and his warm body pressed against me, one arm 
curling beneath my head and the other hand stroking my limp 
arm.

"Are you okay," he asked softly.

"Great," I gasped, my breathing slowly returning to normal.

He smiled and kissed me. I responded clumsily, my body growing 
heavy, my mind sluggish. 

The next thing I was aware of was the feel of a warm washcloth 
moving in gentle circles on my abdomen. I opened my eyes to 
find Will hovering over me, a smug look on his face.

"Are you back with me now?"

I blinked at him in confusion.

"You passed out."

I frowned. "I did?" I had never passed out after sex before. 
Fallen asleep, yes. But I had never just lost consciousness - 
especially not with a John. 

He chuckled. "Hey, I didn't say it was a bad thing." He 
finished cleaning me and tossed the washcloth through the open 
bathroom door where it landed on the tile floor with a wet 
slap. He laid beside me, propped up on one elbow and pulled 
the sheet over my chest, draping his arm across my stomach. 
"Is this warm enough?"

I nodded. "So what happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

I tried not to look as nervous and awkward as I felt. 
"Nobody's ever asked me to stay the night before," I said 
quietly. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do."

He smiled. "We can do whatever you want." I hesitated and he 
quickly added, "How about we just talk for now? I'd like to 
know more about you."

I snorted lightly. "What else is there to know?"

"Well, for starters, do you ever have any female customers?"

I actually had to think about that for a moment. "Five. In 
twelve years I've had five. One of them was a virgin. She 
didn't want her boyfriend to think she was inexperienced, so 
she used me for practice." 

He smirked. "How did that go?"

"She changed her mind about four times and cried after the 
first time I got her to come." I sighed. "She finally got into 
it, but it turned out her boyfriend wasn't as interested in 
her - or any woman - as she thought and he came to me a few 
months later begging me to 'pop his cherry'."

Will laughed. "Did you?"

"Of course I did. It's not like I can afford to turn down 
money."

He winced and grew silent for several long moments. "This pimp 
of yours...how did he find you?"

I faltered, my good mood deflating swiftly. "He didn't. One of 
his former hustlers did...his name was Danny." I swallowed 
hard. I didn't like talking about Danny - it brought up 
painful memories. "I was laying on a bench...in his area. He 
told me to get lost. I tried to leave, but it had been so long 
since I'd last eaten and I was so weak that I fainted when I 
tried to stand up. He took me to the Dauphine building after 
he finished working. Sloane wasn't happy at first, but Danny 
convinced him that I would make a good hustler. He taught me 
everything I know." I swallowed, trying to blink back my tears 
before Will noticed. 

"You were close to him," he said softly.

I nodded. "We were lovers."

"What happened," he asked gently.

"He died. Some John killed him. At least that's what everyone 
assumed. He was drugged and his throat was slit. They never 
caught the guy who did it, but the newspapers called him a 
modern-day Jack the Ripper."

Will squeezed my arm. "I'm sorry."

I could have stopped there, but I couldn't seem to stop the 
words from pouring out of me. "I identified his body. Sloane 
was with me...he had to drag me away." I wiped at the tears 
that leaked from the corners of my eyes. "Sloane spent a lot 
of time with me after that. He blamed himself for what 
happened. For not doing more to keep Danny safe...for getting 
me into this life...I don't know. For everything."

Will's posture stiffened at the mention of Sloane. "Has this 
Sloane guy..." he hesitated. "Has he ever hurt you?"

"You keep talking about him like he's a monster. He's not," I 
said defensively. 

"You didn't answer the question."

I blew out a frustrated breath and rolled onto my side, away 
from him. "Stop analyzing me."

"Vaughn..." He sighed. "I just want to help you."

"You can't," I said softly, my voice sounding dead even to my 
own ears. I cringed as he spooned up to my back. 

"Please," he whispered. "I'm just trying to understand you."

I sighed and closed my eyes in defeat. "He's never hurt me."

"But he has touched you," Will pressed. "Made you 
uncomfortable..."

"I'm an adult, Will."

"Rape is still rape, no matter how old you are."

"He never raped me. I've always consented." Will grew quiet, 
simply holding me as I continued. "Danny used to let Sloane 
fuck him so I or the girls wouldn't have to. Now I do it so 
the girls don't have to. Call it taking one for the team. It's 
not always pleasant, but I've had worse. I'm a hustler - it's 
what I do."

"It's still rape as long as one party has power over the 
other," Will argued. "If you didn't want sex, but felt you had 
no choice..."

I turned in his arms. "By that definition you could call every 
trick I ever turned a rape. I don't let strangers fuck me 
because I enjoy it. The John has all the power. He can do 
whatever he wants with me and all I can do is charge him extra 
for it. The difference is that when I'm with Sloane I know I'm 
safe. In twelve years, he has never done anything to hurt me." 
I couldn't stand the sad, pained look of sympathy on Will's 
face anymore. I needed to change the subject. "Enough about 
me, I want to know more about you."

He sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"How about we start with your ex-wife."

He chuckled softly. "There's really not much to say. Her 
name's Dana. She's a forensic pathologist, which is basically 
a fancy way of saying 'coroner'. I loved her, but I always 
felt like I asked her to marry me because I thought it was 
something I was just supposed to do, not because it was 
something I wanted to do. I mean, I loved being with her, but 
it felt like we were more roommates than we were husband and 
wife."

"Couldn't get it up for her?"

He flinched subtly. "No, that wasn't the problem. The problem 
was there was almost no passion in our relationship and I 
found myself fantasizing about Alex when I was with her."

"That the guy she caught you with," I asked with a smirk.

"No, unfortunately Alex turned out to be very much straight 
and totally uninterested. However, another guy I had been 
attracted to - John - *was* interested, which surprised me 
since he seemed a little too...manly...butch...whatever. You 
know - the kind of guy who drives a pick up and owns a bunch 
of big, mean dogs. He was even a former marine. Anyway, long 
story short, Dana came home early from a conference in DC to 
find me spread eagle on the couch with John's dick in my ass."

I laughed. "That couldn't have been pretty."

"Actually she took it really well, considering. I think she 
had suspected I was gay for a while, if not all along. Anyway, 
that was four years ago. She's remarried now and has a son but 
we still keep in touch." He rolled away suddenly and retrieved 
his pants from the floor, pulling out his wallet and showing 
me a picture of a pretty redhead helping a small child blow 
out the candles on his birthday cake. There were three 
candles, carefully placed around the words "Happy Birthday 
William" written in bright blue icing. It was such a perfectly 
domestic and serene moment that I found myself envying the 
child - so innocent and unaware of the cruelties of the world 
around him. I couldn't ever remember being like that, although 
I must have been...before my father was murdered.

I smiled. "He's adorable." Then I glanced at the driver's 
license opposite the picture. It identified him as Will 
Kuipers...from Virginia. Reality reasserted itself and I was 
reminded that, while I could enjoy the illusion of romance 
with Will, I had to keep in mind that it wouldn't last. He 
would eventually go back to Virginia and I would go back to 
giving blowjobs to guys who were too fat, ugly, crazy or 
egotistical to find themselves real boyfriends.

He seemed to notice my sudden mood shift and quickly snapped 
the wallet shut, stuffing it back in his pants and returning 
them to the floor. "Why don't you get some rest," he 
suggested. "We can talk more later."

I let him pull me into his arms and fell into a light sleep 
shortly afterward, lulled by the sound of his steady 
heartbeat.

******
(The next day)

Despite the disorientation I had felt waking up to a pair of 
strong, masculine arms around me, the sleepy kisses Will gave 
me made it the best morning after I had had in years. And the 
sex that followed was good too. Both round one in the bed and 
round two in the shower. I was practically floating by the 
time Will dropped me off in front of the Dauphine building 
late in the morning, pulling me across the console for one 
last, lingering kiss.

"I may not see you for a couple days," he said apologetically. 
"There's some things I have to do..."

I pressed my fingers to his lips, silencing him. "You don't 
need to explain yourself." I smiled at him and slipped out of 
the car, ducking into the small but imposing building.

I had barely made it to the stairs that would take me to my 
apartment when he appeared.

"Mr. Vaughn, can I see you in my office?"

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. His voice had that 
dangerous edge to it that always made me nervous. 

"Sure," I replied, my voice artificially bright, and 
reluctantly followed Sloane into the landlord office that 
somehow seemed newer and cleaner than the rest of the 
building. I flinched inwardly as he closed the door behind me. 
Sometimes I wondered if he enjoyed playing mind games with me 
because he knew I was one of his few employees who was smart 
enough to understand what he was doing.

"Where have you been," he asked coolly. 

"Turning tricks," I answered innocently. "I had a John who 
wanted me for the night."

I kept my eyes level with his as he came close enough for me 
to smell the herbal tea that always laced his breath. "I 
understand this is not the first time this particular John has 
requested your services."

"No."

"In fact, it sounds like he's been taking more and more of 
your time lately."

I vaguely wondered who he had blackmailed his information 
from. "He pays me for my time."

"That's not what concerns me. You're a smart man, Michael. You 
must know that you are merely a temporary amusement to him, 
despite what he may lead you to believe. Men are jealous 
creatures. Once he realizes that you cannot devote yourself 
completely to him, he will move on. And by that time you will 
have lost many of your regular paying customers."

I shifted my gaze to the wall behind his shoulder, knowing he 
was right, but too proud to admit it. I could handle Will.

I startled when Sloane's hand rested on my shoulder, massaging 
lightly. "My concerns are not only professional, Michael." He 
implored me with kind eyes. "You know I think of you as 
family. I would hate to see you hurt because of this."

"Thank you," I said evenly. "But I know exactly what I'm 
getting into. Mr. Kuipers won't hurt me."

Sloane watched me in thoughtful silence for several long 
moments before sighing and squeezing my shoulder gently. "I 
suppose you know your weaknesses better than I do. Just be 
careful."

I nodded, my muscles relaxing as his hand slid from my 
shoulder. "I will." 

********

Lauren squealed. "You passed out?"

"Briefly, yes." I shoveled another forkful of egg into my 
mouth. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until Sydney had 
thrust a plate full of her scrambled eggs in front of me. Of 
course, Sydney was an amazing cook so I was always hungry for 
anything she made.

"What does he want from you," Sydney asked.

I snorted and asked "Is that a trick question," around a 
mouthful of food. 

"You know what I mean, Vaughn," she said impatiently. 
"Obviously this is about more than sex."

"He thinks he's in love with me, I guess," I muttered, feeling 
her worried, pitying eyes boring into me. "Look, Sloane 
already gave me a lecture. I know what I'm doing. Will's just 
another customer - he just pays better and gets off on fucking 
me until I scream."

"This guy feeds you and asks you to stay the night," Sydney 
argued. "It's like you're a stray he's trying to house train."

"He's not trying to domesticate me, Syd. Once he's done with 
whatever the fuck it is he's here to do he'll go back to 
Virginia and I'll never see him again." I ignored the slight 
twinge I felt in my chest at that, afraid of what it might 
imply. "I'm just showing him a good time while he's here."

"She's right," Lauren piped up, sobered by our conversation. 
"How do you know what this man wants? Maybe he wants to take 
you as his personal concubine. Or maybe he's Jack the Ripper 
and he gets off on earning his victims' trust before he cuts 
their hearts out."

My fork clattered to my plate. "Shut up," I snapped. I knew 
she hadn't meant the comment to hurt me, but I couldn't help 
but be reminded of Danny. 

Her eyes widened. "I'm sorry..."

"I don't want to talk about it." I pushed my chair back 
abruptly and hurried from the room. I knew I was overreacting, 
but I just couldn't deal with their accusations at that 
moment. If for no reason other than my own insecurities about 
my arrangement with Will.

"She didn't mean it to sound like that, Vaughn," Sydney 
whispered in my ear later, her body molded to my back where I 
lay curled on our bed. She kissed my ear gently. "She's just 
afraid you're setting yourself up to be hurt. We both are. 
Lauren just always uses humor to pretend she's not afraid."

"I know that," I mumbled.

"We love you, Vaughn," she continued. "We just want you to be 
safe."

"I know," I whispered back, bringing her hand to my mouth and 
kissing it gently. "I'm trying to be."

*******
(Three days later)

The most dangerous thing about taking Johns with kinky sexual 
habits was not the possibility of being hurt, but the risk 
inherent in submission. The John could gag me, fuck me until I 
bleed and leave me tied to the bed, taking his money and mine 
along with him. One night, years ago, the maid of the Horizon 
motel had found me tied spread eagle to the bed with a lit 
cigar shoved in my ass. I was lucky she got to me in time.
 
'Although there is something to be said about the dangers of 
dealing with bondage amateurs who didn't know their own 
strength,' I thought with a wince as the deceptively muscular 
John secured my wrists to the headboard a little too tightly. 
He maneuvered me into a position he liked, spreading my legs 
obscenely wide and tilting my hips so he could get a clear 
view of my wet hole.

I moaned loudly as he massaged my inner thighs, simply 
admiring me hungrily. "Please sir," I said, letting my voice 
warble just a little to really play into my submissive role. 
"Give me your cock."

"I will be the one giving commands here, Michael," he said in 
a silky British lilt. "Although I do like to hear you beg. You 
can call me Sark."

Well, it was better than the clichéd "master".

"Please, Mr. Sark," I begged, tugging against my bonds for 
emphasis. The man was clearly younger than me, but he was 
paying me well. I would call him Daddy if he asked me to.

"You are not to come until I give you permission," he 
instructed. "I'm sure a man of your...talents is more than 
capable of such control."

I held back a snort. It was doubtful that I would come at all, 
much less before he did, but I couldn't tell him that. If the 
cocky little shit wanted to believe he could reduce me to a 
mindless slut desperate for release that was what he would 
get. I nodded and wiggled my hips impatiently. "Yes, please!"

He put on a condom and plunged into me abruptly. I yelped and 
clamped down on him, squirming as if in agony. It was mostly 
for show, although it had hurt a little. He groaned as my 
muscles spasmed repeatedly, clenching and releasing his 
motionless cock. "Fuck, that's good," he muttered.

I blinked furiously and cringed, taking deep breaths and 
forcing my eyes to water. I looked up at him pleadingly. 

"You are a convincing actor, Michael," he purred. "However, I 
highly doubt I have done anything to hurt you."

I dropped the act and sneered at him. "Forgive me for thinking 
you got off on other people's pain. It was a natural 
assumption." I tugged at my hands, which he had secured to the 
headboard with his belt, for emphasis and hissed as the too-
tight leather bit into my wrist. 

"I never said I didn't want your pain," he said 
condescendingly. "I just don't want you to make it so easy for 
me." With that he slammed into me forcefully, hooking an arm 
under my left knee and raising my leg to allow him to go 
deeper.

"You think you can make me scream, you cocky bastard," I asked 
with a sneer. I hissed as this earned me a hard slap across 
the face but I had fully expected it. It was quickly becoming 
clear that this John didn't actually want me to submit. He 
wanted me to fight him. It made subduing me all the more 
challenging and rewarding. 

He bared his teeth at me in a parody of a smile. "That's more 
like it."

I yanked against my bonds, twisting in his grip, slamming my 
hips up into his, meeting his thrusts. "You son of a bitch," I 
hissed.

He responded by biting my neck, hard enough to create a deep 
bruise but not enough to break the skin. He was inflicting 
maximum pain with minimum damage. He was marking me. 

He sucked hard at the same spot he had bitten as I squirmed 
and bucked against him. I bit my lip to muffle the whimper I 
couldn't hold in. He stopped at the sound and pulled back so 
he could look down at me. "Very good," he purred. 

He fucked me with a strength that seemed to contradict his 
slim body and delicate features. I fought him as best I could 
given my disadvantage, kicking and biting until he threatened 
to gag me. By the time he came with a triumphant shout I had 
more bruises on me than I got on an average week.

I curled in on myself when he released me from the makeshift 
bonds, cradling my sore arms against my chest. I was shaking, 
on the verge of orgasm in spite of my mind's protests. My body 
clearly didn't know the difference between pain and pleasure. 

I jerked as I felt his hand on my arm. "Lie back," he ordered, 
his voice strangely gentle. 

"Why," I grumbled. "You got what you paid for."

"I'm not finished with you, Michael," he said kindly. "I'll 
gladly pay the additional charges." He pushed me onto my back 
and began running his hands over my chest and abdomen gently, 
seductively. "I may be harsh, but I never let my conquests go 
unrewarded."

"You think you've conquered me," I snorted. 

He hummed and bent to place a soft kiss to one bruised, 
swollen nipple. I hissed at the contact but didn't flinch. 
"You prefer to think of it as seduction that led to you being 
tied up and at my mercy?" He unrolled a condom over me and 
lowered himself until his mouth hovered over my straining 
length. "Don't be such a romantic, Michael."

I groaned as he took me in his mouth, squeezing my balls 
roughly and jabbing a finger inside me in search of my 
prostate. 

It didn't take him long to finish me off. I lay dazed on the 
bed as he removed the condom and sauntered into the bathroom 
to clean himself. I didn't hear him come back and I jumped 
when a wad of bills landed on my chest.

"That's for the blowjob," he purred. "You can get dressed 
now."

*******

I was quiet on the ride back to the corner. Not that it was a 
long ride since Sark obviously bought into the idea that 
flashy sports cars are meant to be driven at breakneck speeds. 

"I like you," he said as he turned a corner onto our street. 
"I may have to make use of your services again in the future." 
His hand crept up the inside of my thigh, inching steadily 
toward my crotch. 

"Don't touch me," I growled. 

He smirked, letting his hand linger just a little longer 
before taking it away. I focused on making my face into a mask 
of anger and humiliation but inside I was laughing. Sark 
thought he was the one in control, but in the end I was the 
one manipulating him. The more I threatened and resisted, the 
more he wanted me. I had no doubt I would see him again. Most 
likely on a regular basis. Sydney and Lauren would be thrilled 
to know I had found another gold mine - a gullible rich boy 
with sadistic kinks. Well, maybe I wouldn't tell them about 
the sadistic part...

He dropped me at the curb and sped off into the night without 
another word. I smiled as I saw the familiar green Ford parked 
across the street, waiting for me. This night just kept 
getting better.

*******

Will was kissing me hungrily the second we entered his hotel 
room. His arms wrapped around my waist, drawing me up against 
him tightly and I winced. 

He froze. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said easily. "I just...do you mind if I wash up a 
bit first?" I could still feel the sticky remnants of my 
encounter with Sark between my legs and as stupidly romantic 
as it seemed I didn't want to be reminded of any other Johns 
when I was with Will.

"Of course," he replied, watching me curiously as I 
disappeared into the bathroom. I didn't bother locking the 
door. I stripped and washed away the mess of lubricant and my 
own semen before slipping back into my pants.

I was washing away the remnants of my smeared eyeliner when 
Will knocked on the door. "Can I come in," he called.

"It's open," I called back. "I'm almost finished," I added 
when he stuck his head in.

I saw his eyes widen slightly in the mirror. "Vaughn, what 
happened to you?" He moved to my side and grabbed my arm, 
inspecting the bruises and friction burns left by Sark's belt. 

"The last John liked it a little rough," I said flippantly. 
"No big deal. It'll heal in a couple days."

Will's eyes flashed. "A couple days? Vaughn, he hurt you. Safe 
bondage shouldn't leave marks like this."

I hissed as he prodded at the angry scrape on the inside of my 
wrist that I had gotten when I had twisted my arm a little too 
far. "It's not that bad. Besides it was my fault. I pulled too 
hard. I'll just have to be more careful next time."

"Next time?" Will looked alarmed. 

I finished wiping away the last trace of eyeliner and dropped 
the washcloth on the counter before turning to face him. 
"Will, I know what I'm doing. Like it or not, this is what I 
do for a living. And frankly, I hope I see this guy again 
because he pays almost as well as you."

Will shook his head, a pained look on his face. "Vaughn..."

"You can't save me, Will," I interrupted softly. "Stop 
trying."

He seemed to consider this for a moment, his eyes searching 
mine, his expression unreadable. "I just want you to be safe," 
he finally said.

I sighed. "I'm a whore, Will. Safe is a relative term."

"I know that. I just don't want you taking any unnecessary 
risks," he argued.

I snorted. "I have sex with multiple partners on a regular 
basis. Risks come with the territory."

He sighed and gave up, likely realizing he would not win this 
argument. "Stay with me tonight. I don't care how much I have 
to pay."

I shrugged, pretending it didn't matter one way or another to 
me even though inside I was relieved. "Fine. Where do you want 
to start?"

He pointed to the Jacuzzi in the corner by the small shower. 
"Why don't you fill that. I'll go see if I can order something 
from room service."

"Are you trying to fatten me up or are you just obsessed with 
food," I asked playfully.

He smiled. "A little of both, I guess," he fired back. He 
kissed me and left the bathroom to call room service. 

Ten minutes later I slipped into the hot, bubbling water of 
the Jacuzzi with a groan. I lay back and let the jets massage 
away my tension. I didn't even open my eyes when I heard the 
door to the bathroom open. I listened to the light, tinkling 
sound of glasses being clinked together and set carefully on 
the tile counter.

"Here."

I cracked my eyes open to find Will, dressed only in his 
bathrobe, holding a half-full glass of red wine out to me. "No 
thanks, I don't drink on the job," I said wryly. 

He didn't move. "Technically you're not on the job for the 
rest of the night."

I sighed and accepted the glass from him, taking a small sip 
before setting it on the tile behind my head and sinking back 
into the soothing water. I felt him slip in beside me and 
groaned as he jostled me forward, sliding onto the bench 
behind me and pulling me back against his chest.

"Comfortable," I asked sarcastically.

He hummed an agreement and reached for the tray he had set 
within reach, retrieving a dark red strawberry and bringing it 
to my lips. "Open."

I opened my mouth and let him feed me, feeling a trickle of 
strawberry juice run down my chin. Will groaned and thumbed it 
away. "You're going to kill me."

I shrugged languidly, my eyes still closed. "Fine by me. I can 
sell my ass in prison just as easily as I can on the street. 
Better, even."

I felt him stiffen. "Don't talk like that."

"Why not," I asked as I reached back for the abandoned wine 
glass, taking a healthy swig. "At least it gives us something 
to talk about."

He was silent for a moment while I returned the glass to the 
ledge. "Is that what you did the first time you were there?"

"No. I was lucky. Although my cellmate and I did share a 
bottom bunk a few times."

We lapsed into silence after that and I felt myself drifting, 
lulled into a stupor by the effects of the wine and warm, 
bubbling water.

"Are you still awake," he asked softly.

"Mostly," I murmured.

"Good."

I gasped as he shifted me forward suddenly so that one of the 
water jets was directed between my legs. He spread my thighs 
gently, hooking my knees over his own, and cupped my balls, 
lifting them up and out of the way. I groaned and squirmed 
when this caused the jet strike my perineum directly, 
effectively massaging my prostate from the outside. 

"Is that okay," he asked gently.

I reached behind me and wrapped my hand around the back of his 
neck for support, rocking in his lap restlessly. "Need you," I 
gasped.

"Yes," I hissed in relief as he responded by wrapping his hand 
around my quickly rising erection and stroking firmly.

I came within minutes and lay quivering in his arms, drifting 
fully into unconsciousness with the feel of his lips on my 
forehead.

*******

I awoke to find myself sprawled face down across the bed, 
Will's fingers tracing light patterns on my bare back. 

"Are you back with me," he whispered.

I hummed contentedly in spite of myself - the alcohol and hot 
bath leaving me pliant and agreeable. "That feels nice," I 
murmured. He responded by rubbing harder with a flattened 
palm. I groaned and arched into his touch. My groan turned to 
a whimper when he stopped suddenly and I felt the bed dip 
under his removed weight. 

"Just a second, baby, I want to try something."

I lay quietly as he returned moments later with a bottle of 
lotion and straddled my hips. I moaned loudly when he began 
massaging my back and shoulders, his hands firm yet gentle, 
easing away whatever tension had remained in my body until I 
felt like I might melt right into the bed.

"You're gonna spoil me," I said quietly after he had worked 
his way to my lower back.

"That's the idea," he said heatedly, leaning over so his lips 
brushed my ear.

I shook my head, as much as I could from my position, and said 
"no. I mean I can't remember the last time a man touched me 
like there was more he wanted from me than just sex."

He hesitated a moment. "Maybe I do want more."

I closed my eyes tightly. That was exactly what I had been 
afraid of. "Don't."

He slipped off me. "Vaughn..."

"Don't," I repeated, rolling onto my back and looking up at 
him pleadingly. 

He barreled on anyway. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

He reached his hand out to cup my cheek but I slapped it away. 
"I'm a whore, Will. You can't love me."

"I don't care what you are," he insisted gently.

"You *should*," I snapped. "What, you think you can whisk me 
away to your mansion in Virginia and we can live happily ever 
after? I'm an ex-convict who gets paid to let guys shove their 
dicks up my ass. I will never find a descent job and I 
certainly won't sit at home and play housewife to you!"

He looked pained. "No. I refuse to give up hope on you."

I snorted. "Then you're more idealistic than I thought."

"Vaughn..." He sighed and seemed to reconsider his approach. 
"I've been drawn to you ever since the first time I saw you. 
You were standing at the counter of the SavMart, buying 
groceries. You didn't see me, but I couldn't take my eyes off 
of you. There was something about you...your beauty, the way 
you carried yourself...the way you smiled at the cashier and 
talked to her like you were old friends. I knew I had to meet 
you. So I asked the cashier where I could find you and she 
directed me to your corner. I knew what you were then, but 
that didn't bother me. I still wanted to meet you. Wanted to 
get to know you."

"Why?"

"I already told you - I don't know. But I'm glad I did. And 
now I don't want to leave you."

"Will..."

"What if I said I could find a way to get you a descent, 
legitimate job?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'd say you were crazy."

He gathered my hands in his own and I didn't fight him. "I can 
pull some strings, call in a few favors. I'm sure I can find 
you a job if you'd come back to Virginia with me."

My mind reeled. "You want me to come live with you?"

He nodded soberly, his eyes pleading. "Just think about it. 
Please."

********
(Next day)

"He WHAT," Sydney squawked, causing nearby shoppers at the 
SavMart to look at her quizzically. 

"Please tell me you're not going along with this," Lauren 
added, wide eyed. 

"I told him I'd think about it," I said as I held out a 
plastic bag for Lauren to put fruit in. 

"Oh, Vaughn," Sydney groaned, taking the bag from me when 
Lauren had finished and placing it in the cart.

"I'm not going to say yes," I said defensively. "I just want 
to let him down easy. I'll 'think about it' for a while and 
then say sorry but no thanks and send him packing back to 
Virginia."

"You're playing with fire," Lauren chastised, shaking her 
head.

I knew better than to argue with them. "I know what I'm 
doing," I said, unsure whether I was trying to convince them 
or myself. "I can handle this."

I looked at the row of cashiers as we rounded one of the 
aisles and thought about what Will had said. He must have seen 
me talking to Francie - she was the only cashier I was on a 
first name basis with. I scanned the checkout lanes looking 
for her and spotted her immediately, gossiping with another 
regular customer, her dark eyes wide, leaning over the counter 
and speaking in a conspiratory whisper. She smiled brightly 
and waved at us when we approached her queue. 

"Hey, guys," she greeted cheerfully. "Did you find 
everything?"

Sydney smiled. "Hey, Francie." She ignored the last question. 
It was just a formality the employees were required to ask - 
not necessarily meant to be answered. "How's your boyfriend?"

Proving that the world is, in fact, small my former college 
roommate, Will Tippin, had gone on to become Francie's live-in 
boyfriend. Francie and I traded stories about him often, many 
of which she liked to use against him when he least expected 
it. She particularly liked to use the "remember when you got 
drunk and fucked Michael's brains out" card during arguments.

Francie beamed and held up her left hand, flashing the 
impressive engagement ring on her finger. We offered our 
congratulations and the girls gushed and cooed over the ring 
as she rang up our groceries. 

"Of course, you guys are all invited to the wedding," Francie 
said happily. 

"I don't think Tippin would want me there," I piped up. 

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, it was *one night*. I'm 
sure Will can be an adult about it. Besides, it's not his 
decision. You'll be on my side of the aisle." 

The wonderful thing about Francie was that she knew what the 
girls and I did for a living and yet it didn't bother her. She 
treated us like we were co-workers or best friends from high 
school. She was almost like family.

"We would love to," Sydney decided. 

Francie's smile brightened further, if that was even possible. 
"Great! I'll let you know when we have a date set."

Lauren stuffed the last bag of groceries into the cart and she 
and Sydney started for the exit, calling their goodbyes to 
Francie over their shoulders. 

"Go ahead, I'll meet up," I told them, hanging back so I could 
speak to Francie in private. I wasn't sure why this was 
bothering me, but I felt that I needed to get to the bottom of 
it. "Did a guy come by here looking for me?"

Francie's smile faltered slightly. "What do you mean?" 

I moved aside as she started scanning the next customer's 
groceries. "Tall, dark hair, good looking? Maybe he didn't 
talk to you..."

"Oh, *that* guy," she said hastily. "Yeah, he asked where he 
could find you and I gave him directions." She looked at me 
warily. "Why?"

"No reason. I was just curious."

"What did he want with you?"

"Oh, the usual. Except he wants me to come to Virginia with 
him now."

Her eyes widened and she froze, the can of tomatoes in her 
hand poised above the scanner. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'm not actually going."

She gave me an odd look. "Oh..."

"I should probably go catch up to the girls. I just wanted to 
ask."

"Okay," she said with a smile.

As I left the store, I wondered if it was surprise or 
something else that had made Francie act so strangely. It was 
almost like she was suspicious of something, but I had no idea 
what it could possibly be.

*******
(Four days later)

I struggled as Sark bent me over the trunk of his car, 
wrapping his belt tightly around my wrists so that my bound 
hands rested at the small of my back. I yelped angrily as he 
plunged inside me without warning.

"Stop fighting me," he hissed.

"Never," I growled, twisting my arms against his tight grip. 

He pinned me bodily to the cool metal and fucked me brutally. 
"I don't particularly care for your tone, Michael. Perhaps I 
should remember to bring a gag with me next time."

I smiled. I had spent practically all of the last few nights 
fucking Sark - when I wasn't fucking Will, of course - and in 
just that short amount of time I had learned that Sark was not 
easily put off. I could kick, bite, scratch and call him a 
bastard all I wanted and it would only turn him on. He was a 
twisted little fucker, but that suited me just fine. It made 
him that much easier to control. Plus, I could take out my 
frustrations with other Johns on him without the risk of 
losing money.

I turned my head and bit into his hand, not hard enough to 
break the skin, but enough to leave a mark. He yelped and gave 
me a sharp jab to my right kidney, forcing a pained groan from 
me. Satisfied that this would dissuade me from any further 
attacks, he pulled out and flipped me onto my back, hitching 
my legs over his arms and slamming back inside me. I felt my 
tailbone grind uncomfortably on the hard surface and hissed, 
baring my teeth at Sark. 

"You'll never break me, you son of a bitch," I snarled.

I bit back a scream when he responded by biting down cruelly 
on my left nipple.

"I should hope not," he said heatedly. 

He came with an impassioned grunt a few short minutes later, 
his hand wrapped around my cock, bringing me off while he 
softened inside me.

"Fuck, that was good," I muttered when he pulled out of me and 
disposed of the condom. I waited for him to untie me, but 
instead he seemed to take his time readjusting his clothes. 
"Hurry up, I think my fingers are starting to turn blue."

My breath hitched as a Swiss knife was pressed against my 
throat suddenly. "Who is that man I keep seeing you with," 
Sark asked. "The one in the green Ford."

"None of your fucking business," I snapped, my voice warbling 
slightly in fear. 

"I don't like the way he looks at you."

I snorted. What way was that? Like a love struck teenager? 
"He's harmless."

"That is not my concern, Michael. How shall I put this? I 
don't particularly like sharing my toys," he said.

"I'm a whore, Sark. I'll fuck anyone for a price. You, Will, 
the fucking President. I don't care."

Sark smiled dangerously. "The others don't concern me. I am 
simply worried that this...*Will* intends to...take you off 
the market, as it were."

"His intentions don't necessarily mirror mine," I said calmly. 
"I'm not going anywhere."

Sark's smile widened and he removed the knife from its 
position at my neck and returned it to his pocket. "All right 
then."

The fact that Sark could be spying on me made me almost 
relieved that Will didn't show up that night. Still, I 
chastised myself for the disappointment I felt at not seeing 
the familiar green Ford pull up to the curb.

*******
(The next day)

"It seems we need to have a talk, Michael."

"About what," I asked innocently.

The laundry basket fell out of my hands as Sloane moved across 
the room with more speed than a man his age had any right to 
possess, shoving me against the nearest wall with one hand 
wrapped around my throat.

"You've been holding out on me," he said calmly. "We're losing 
business."

"Please, Mr. Sloane," I gasped as I tried to pry his hand from 
my neck. He merely tightened his grip.

"It's because of Mr. Kuipers, isn't it? You're wasting time 
and money on a schoolboy crush."

I shook my head. "I'm not," I mouthed, his impossibly strong 
grip robbing me of my voice. He let go suddenly and I slumped, 
coughing and rubbing gingerly at my abused throat. The blow to 
the face took me completely off guard. The next thing I knew, 
I was sprawled on the floor, one hand cradling my throbbing 
right eye.

"Get up," Sloane growled. 

I didn't move - too stunned to process his command. The world 
tilted dizzyingly as he dragged me upright with a fist 
clenched in the front of my T-shirt. I was face-down on top of 
one of the washers before I even had a chance to defend 
myself, my left arm twisted painfully behind my back, being 
held immobile by his body weight.

"You're forgetting your place," he hissed in my ear. "You 
would be dead in the street if I hadn't taken you in. You 
*belong* to me." He twisted my arm a little higher to drive 
home his point, wrenching a whimper from my abused throat as 
fire tore through my shoulder. 

I relaxed my body in spite of the pain. I had learned long ago 
that it was best to just ride it out - let him do whatever he 
was determined to do. At least if he took out his frustrations 
on me I knew Sydney and Lauren would be safe. 

A feminine shriek interrupted Sloane and he loosened his grip, 
startled. I wrestled free of him, but only managed one 
tottering step before I slumped to the ground, clutching my 
throbbing arm. Gentle hands framed my face and Lauren's soft 
features appeared in front of me. 

"Are you okay," she asked quietly. 

I nodded, belatedly realizing that Sydney had pulled Sloane's 
attention away from me and was now ranting at him for hurting 
me, her flashing eyes making her look like an angry mother 
protecting her child, as she always did where Lauren and I 
were concerned. She wasn't afraid of Sloane and Sloane never 
reprimanded her for talking to him the way she did. He was 
just as protective of her, almost as if he thought of her as 
the daughter he never had. She could get away with murder as 
far as he was concerned. I heard her point out to Sloane that 
damaging my face was not going to make me any more profitable 
and if he had talked to either her or Lauren he would know 
that they had the rest of my regular customers covered. I 
wasn't losing business; I was making plenty of money from two 
very satisfied, wealthy customers.

Sydney finally finished her rant and marched over to Lauren 
and me. She gently pulled me to my feet, her eyes still 
flashing angrily and ordered Lauren to pick up the discarded 
laundry basket before guiding me from the room and back up to 
our apartment.

******
(The next night)

I winced as Sydney touched up the makeup she used to cover my 
black eye. It didn't hide the bruise completely, but at least 
it didn't look so raw. 

"Stop moving," she scolded.

"It hurts," I muttered, trying not to sound like I was 
whining. She was trying to be gentle, but it still hurt.

She made one last dab high on my cheek and smiled 
triumphantly. "There!" She stuffed her makeup kit back in her 
purse as a dark blue Toyota pulled up to the curb.

"I've got it," Lauren called as she sashayed over to the car. 

"Thanks again for saving me yesterday," I said quietly. 

Sydney shook her head, an expression of disgust on her face. 
"I still can't believe he did that. I don't want to think 
about what he would have done if we hadn't gotten there when 
we did."

I instinctively leapt to Sloane's defense. "I understand why 
he was angry with me. He would never hurt me intentionally, he 
just...wasn't himself at the time."

Sydney's look of pity made me want to scream. I had to admit, 
I had my doubts about Sloane now. I had never seen him so 
angry and violent. It scared me.

I withered as Will's Ford pulled up to the curb. Why did he 
have to show up now, when the bruises from my altercation with 
Sloane were still fresh? The last thing I needed was to give 
him justification for his suspicions.

Sydney smiled at me sadly and took the cigarette I held out to 
her. "Good luck."

I took a deep breath as I made my way to the car. Whatever 
happened, I could deal with it.

I ducked into the car quickly, hoping to at least delay the 
inevitable confrontation until we had reached the hotel. "The 
usual," I asked brightly.

I sighed in defeat as Will responded by taking my chin in his 
hand and turning my face toward him, staring at my barely 
disguised swollen eye in horror. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I said instinctively. 

"Did Sloane do this to you," he demanded.

"Will, please...just drive. I'll tell you later," I pleaded.

Will hesitated for several painfully long heartbeats before 
seeming to come to some sort of decision, giving a small nod 
of his head. "I need to show you something," he said gravely.

*****