Currency Ch. 01

FOR CLARIFICATION - ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18. ENJOY!

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She stumbled into a room, blindly being shoved by a large, hoarse man. The room was decadent to say the least, with plush velvet covering the 2 chairs in front of a dark cherry desk. Beyond that desk sat the most feral man she had even seen. She gasped when she encountered his searing eyes, burned bright green against the light emitted from the candles on his desk. Clearly it was his desk; he oozed command over his surroundings. Even the harsh man who had brought her into this hellhole shivered in his presence.

'Well Rick, what do we have here?' the man practically growled the words out, taking in her plain black dress and young, firm body.

'I found her alone on the street, I figured she'd please our clients tremendously, Vincent, sir.' stated the supposed Rick, the bully who had drugged her with a sweet smelling substance and consequently dragged her in this menacing office.

'Pleasing to the eye she certainly is' Vincent replied with a condescending smile, and stood up. She could make out his intimidating size, outlined in a precise black dress shirt and black dress pants. 'Honey, what's your name?'

She stared at him mutely. Rick jabbed her in the side to prompt an answer when the feral man raised an ebony tinted eyebrow. She managed to stammer out, 'Let me go, I'm nobody', and was greeted with Vincent's laughter.

'Sweetie, that's not what I asked, is it?' Vincent had begun the slow descent around his desk, and came to stand directly in front of her. She instinctively tried to back away, but Rick pushed her towards Vincent. She caught a whiff of sandalwood and musk before he lifted her chin to look at him, stating, 'and I'm not gonna ask again, and you're not gonna like it if you don't answer.'

She stared at him mutely once more, trembling, with her hands tied behind her back. He was getting impatient, and nodded to Rick. The next thing she knew, Rick grabbed her bound wrists and hauled her to the side of the room, where a hook waited for her. A sense of intense fear grasped her, and she attempted to fight against the foul smelling man, but to no avail. He slapped her across the face once, and attached her bound wrists to the hook. She was hazy, this all was; she hardly felt the hit.

'Now now Ricky boy, don't want the goods damaged before we even sell them, do we?' Vincent had rolled up his sleeves, revealing large tanned forearms teaming with protruding veins. She fought against the hook, but her wrists were firmly stretched above her head. Her whole body had turned taut, stretched beyond her limits. Maybe a hint of foreshadowing as to what's to come? With this despicable thought, again she began to plead.

'Please let me go! I don't belong here, I have a family. They'll pay my ransom! They'll find me missing soon enoug-' she cried, pushing the words from a dry throat.

'Rick, leave the room please.' Vincent said, clearly unaffected by the display. Rick took one last look at the girl, and licked his slimy lips. Then he shut the door closed, and the sound resonated throughout the room.

'Please sir, if it's money you want..' she tried pleading again. He slapped her across the face.

'If it is money I want, then it is money I shall get. Which I will, when I sell you to some old man who will enjoy your luscious lips sucking his cock' he replied crudely, holding her head in place to face him. When she paled in colour and visibly stopped fighting his touch, he continued, 'Not a pretty fate for such a pretty girl indeed. Now what is your name? And don't start whining again, that's not how it works here.'

The girl stared at him wide eyed, so overwhelmed by everything at once. His eyes made hers feel feverish and she whispered 'Elizabeth'.

'So Elizabeth, are you a virgin?' She gaped at him. Vincent was getting tired of her already -- did she not understand who was the boss here? He lowered his hands to her throat, squeezing it like a sick caress. 'Come to your senses, and get out of your pathetic self pity, or else I'll just give you more grievances to add to your list.'

She managed to shake her head, words refusing to come out of her throat as his hands tightened maliciously. As soon as she answered, he stopped. He gave her a warm smile, as if he was trying to make her feel comfortable, and lowered his hands to the top of her dress. On that note, he took the material, and ripped it straight in half. She gasped, trying to force air into her overheated body, his gaze was like fire. "Sweetheart, before you beg and plead, realize that it'll get you no where you want to be." His voice vibrated across the room, across her skin.

She kept her mouth shut, feeling real, heart stopping fear for the first time in her life. She watched him examine her, taking in her little uncovered breasts and small black panties. He smiled ferociously, trailing a finger from her lips to her navel, which made her nipples harden. Elizabeth flushed furiously, seeing the way his eyes blazed at her body's reaction. Whenever he trailed his finger, it felt like fire. "Nice" he said drily, "your body is young, and unused. A sure favourite amongst our clients. Consider this a nice little training session of what's to come."

"Clients?" Elizabeth stammered the only word she had heard in that whole sentence, her eyes widening as he cupped her little breasts. He didn't respond to her, only rubbed her hard nipples with the pads of his thumbs. A shock went straight to her stomach, she moaned despite herself. He was exquisitely gentle, and knowing that he did not have to be, made it so much more erotic. She wondered why she was moaning, why she was humiliating herself in front of a man who was appraising her like a piece of meat for sale. Her thoughts didn't last long, as he bent to slowly suck one of her distended nipples.

"You're different than the others," he murmured, "there's something about your scent, your body heat. Men like responsive woman, you're sure to fetch a high price." She quivered as he bit her nipple harshly, and then lapped it with his tongue. She tried to restrain her moans, but it was hopeless. Her semi drugged state made her strangely pliable. His other hand moved to her panties, and began to fondle her through the silky material. "Are you wet?" he asked, moving up to slowly suck at her neck. She needed to stop debasing herself in front of this large man, whose face resembled that of the most handsome devil.

"I won't answer your questions if you don't answer mine" she said in vain, her clitoris coming alive with sensations she had only felt when she had touched herself. This answer wasn't well received -- he slapped her whole pussy, hard. She yelped at the strangely pleasant sensation, and he did it again.

"Sweetheart, stop acting like an insolent child, you're trying my patience" He said, punctuating each couple of words with a well placed slap to her pussy. She never had a man touch her there, and any contact seemed to have the desired effect -- she could feel moisture trickling between her folds. "Are you wet?" He asked again, returning to soothing the flesh he had just attacked, his other hand roughly massaging her breast. Surely he could feel the moisture on her panties?

She refused the answer, once again trying to restrain herself, remain cold. The aftermath of being drugged made this hazy, her body was coiling inside and it was a strange feeling of not enough. He slapped her pussy again, prompting her to force her eyes wide open. Then she noticed it -- a mirror facing her. There she was, in the remains of her dress, neck covered in blotchy red spots from his incessant sucking, breasts flushed and eyes wild. He followed her eyes, and smiled. Suddenly he let go of her -- she almost begged him to return.

He stared her down intensely in the mirror. Her lips parted, an escaped sigh lingering in the air. His hands had found their natural resting spots on her young body; one was continuously rubbing at the woman's poor, raw clitoris while the other played at her right nipple. She moaned anew and trembled. The sound of her bound wrists' chains against the ceiling rattled. She watched the dark shadowy figure of the man continue to stimulate her to a point where her body was firing electrical signals to anywhere it would listen.

She was almost ready to collapse, and her eyes rolled back into her head. He whispered, his voice carrying in the candle lit room harshly, 'Open your eyes sweetheart', a mockery of the affectionate atmosphere that the dim glow allotted the room. Her eyes were refusing to accommodate him, preferring the relative solace of darkness. He removed the hand off her abused clit, and she sighed gently in relief. The relief was short lived however; he slapped her hard across her ass with a velocity that forced her eyes to bulge open and her mouth to release horrid sounds.

He glared at her in the mirror, his chest muscles gleaming with sweat and his erection straining towards her. Then, an infuriating smile played with his lips as he moved his hand to her other nipple. Both his hands now covered her little breasts. The sheer size of the man's hands only intensified the perception of the command he held over her. He moved to stand behind her, and she could feel the pressure of his hard penis on her lower back. He swooped down to nuzzle her neck and whisper 'I'll be sad to go when it's time to sell you off'. He applied one last pinch to her nipples simultaneously and she exploded under his gaze, her body covered in nothing but sweat and her soaking panties.

"Now try to deny me that you're soaking wet, please. Humour me Elizabeth." He laughed drily, suddenly pulling her panties off, causing air to rush against her hot, wet skin. She practically came again, just from that feeling alone. The panties fell to her ankles, and she groaned at the sensations everywhere. Here she was, in a place that seemed secluded from reality, with a man who used her body as a tool of instilling pain and pleasure -- calling it all a lesson.

This was only just the beginning of the night.