The Flower Girl Ch. 01

For Elenia, who graciously helped me to vastly improve my very first stories, and inspired this one.

* * *

His cock pushed into her again, and it hurt again. Her ass resisted, only spreading for his cock because he forced it into her. His cock head popped in and past the rim of her anus, then his full length plunged into her, violating her brutally. Yuuka unsuccessfully fought back a cry. She didn't want to let him know he was hurting her. She didn't want him to feel her pain, too.

He had had enough of his own.

Tiny tears welled around the base of her eyes. He held himself deeply inside her for a while. The warm flesh of his hips pressed her soft ass cheeks into her pelvic bones. His breath panted on her neck, where his teeth pressed indelicately into her skin. Her own hands were splayed against the glass door in front of her, steadying her, as his hands marauded over her body where ever they pleased. His hands moved as if he owned her, as if he had paid for her and she had no will, no right of refusal.

His cock slipped out of her again. If he would leave it partially in her, if she could relax around it, it wouldn't hurt as much, and the pain would ease, but as before he pulled it completely free. The careworn gentleman hesitated a moment, then she felt him press his cock head against her sore anus one more time.

He held it there, pressed against her, ready to spike her. Then he seemed to reconsider. Her ass cheeks were still wetly slippery, where he'd first emptied his cum on her after so sweetly fucking her slit. He rubbed his cock over some of his own cum, then guided it easily inside her own revealingly still slippery cunt.

The feeling of his penetration there was heavenly, after the torture of feeling him rape her virgin asshole. He thrust all the way into her then, once, twice, three times, quickly. Yuuka let out a squeal of delight, feeling a smile force it's way onto her lips as his cock forced her to instantly feel like a woman filled, and fulfilled.

She opened her eyes to look at their ghostly reflections in the glass case, in the pane in front of the rows of brightly colored flowers. Right before and below them was an arrangement of anemones and daffodils and delphiniums, glowing in purples and yellows and pinks under the brilliant florescent lights. Her mother had created that arrangement just that afternoon. Above it the reflections of their faces floated side by side, almost colorless, like lost souls, his stern and angry, beside and behind hers, which was small and soft and frightened. Only the bright blue of his eyes gave any color to their images.

His face was harsh and serious and unforgiving. He was clearly the master here. She was like a child; his servant, his plaything. Still, she tried to smile for him, through her tears, and the pain. She looked into the dim reflection of his eyes in the glass and she smiled weakly for him.

Then his cock head was pressed against her anus again. He didn't wait. He didn't give her a chance to prepare. He simply plunged into her again, forcing his thick, hungry cock inside her now tender ass. Freshly covered with cum, his and hers, it slipped in more easily this time. There was still pain, but less pain. What pain was there felt different. It belonged there.

Yuuka liked it.

* * *

It had been the first day of spring when her gentleman, her favorite customer, had strolled into the shop again. He was a little less somber this time, Yuuka noticed. He'd grown less and less empty with every passing week, as winter faded, the days lengthened and the weather warmed. She didn't know who the woman was, the woman for whom he always bought a single flowering bud, a different type of flower every single time. She must be special, Yuuka thought, both to engender such attention, and to be bringing about such a pleasant metamorphosis in this deeply shadowed man.

"Hss. Yuuka. He's here," her mother hissed at her.

Yuuka didn't need to be told. She'd been waiting for him all day. They both loved it when he came by. They tittered like school girls about him after he left, even her mother, especially her mother, as if he were a sexy, favorite teacher.

Yuuka loved his sharp, blue eyes. Her mother loved his strong arms and hands, and the salt and pepper color of his close cropped, graying hair. It was mostly salt, with just a touch of pepper, Yuuka thought. Yuuka liked the way it always seemed as if he'd only shaved the day before, leaving a short, but neat layer of graying scruff across his entire jaw. She liked the crows feet at the corners of his eyes, and the angular cut to his cheeks and his jaw. Her mother, to Yuuka's enduring surprise and embarrassment, shamelessly, smilingly said she liked his ass.

Yuuka liked it, too. She loved a good ass on a guy, even if she would never, ever admit it to anyone.

Yuuka abandoned her task of cleaning fallen petals from the bottom of the refrigerated glass display case, to instead retrieve the single blossom she and her mother had already selected for him today. Her mother moved over to the counter to greet him with a beaming smile. Yuuka watched as her mother nodded a terse, perfunctory bow of greeting to him, and he returned the gesture. It was a game they'd all started playing, many months ago.

* * *

They hadn't seen him that late fall day, or early winter day, when his wife had finally passed away. The wind had whipped the leaves around the streets like drunken dancers, while the clouds threatened a heavy layer of snow to stop their antics.

They didn't see him for many weeks after. The orders for the funeral flowers were all phoned in, to be picked up by the funeral home. Yuuka feared that she'd never see the man again, although that seemed selfish. He was just the sad, handsome, sexy gentleman that had been visiting the shop for over a year, always buying flowers for his ailing wife.

She had been dying the whole time. They never asked what she suffered from. They just gave him his flowers, and chatted with him, and tried on occasion to make him smile, although they never could. They enjoyed his company, even if he could not enjoy theirs.

* * *

It was the heart of winter when he first returned to the shop. Weeks had passed since they'd seen him last, and since his wife had passed away. Yuuka was thrilled to see him, and more than a little nervous about talking to him.

"I need a special flower, for a special girl," he had announced, in that deep, oddly musical voice.

Yuuka and her mother had argued forever about his accent. It sounded british, but not english. They never agreed, but Yuuka insisted it was scottish. His voice was deep, and gravelly, with just a touch of that accent to make him sound like a retired british secret agent.

Yuuka blinked at him in silence, as she often did. He had always made her nervous. His sudden appearance after a long absence had multiplied that.

"Do you have any suggestions?" he asked.

Yuuka looked around, wishing her mother were there to help her. Her mother would pick something quickly. Being unable to think, Yuuka wandered randomly to a case, where she spied a single small orchid amidst an expensive arrangement. Her mother would kill her for ruining it, but she took it anyway.

"This," she said. "is called a Lady Slipper Orchid. It has an unusual shape, like a tiny slipper, see? The combination of colors, the bright yellow and red, are very rare, too. We don't get many. It's very hard to cultivate." Yuuka had more to say, but she could feel herself beginning to babble, so she cut herself off with a silent reprimand for acting silly.

As Yuuka handed him the flower, their hands touched. Yuuka let her finger brush against his, ever so slightly, enjoying the subtle contact. She didn't know if he noticed, but he seemed to encourage it, to let her linger longer than she should.

"It's perfect, child," he told her. Then, for the very first time, he smiled at her. It was a thin, tentative, fleeting smile, but a smile none the less.

Yuuka felt a tiny touch of sadness that he was buying a flower for another girl, or perhaps more accurately a woman. He had already found love elsewhere, it seemed, without ever really even noticing sweet little Yuuka, at least not as a woman. But she had made him smile, and felt the warmth of his touch.

* * *

Yuuka sipped her water, and nibbled at her sandwich, as she read about Scotland. It seemed to be a fascinating, romantic country. She'd never thought about it much before she'd met Mr. Gairden. Now he was all she thought about, even if she could never have him. She could read about Scotland, though, in a travel guide she'd picked up at the book store.

"I like to read at meals, too," his voice said out of nowhere.

Yuuka looked up and back, to see him standing behind her. She hurriedly closed the book and pushed it into her purse, at first embarrassed that he might see what she was reading, and then embarrassed that she'd so so obviously tried to hide it from him. She gave him a weak, contrived smile.

"Hi," was all she could say.

"Hi," he said, mocking her.

It should have embarrassed her further, but instead she smiled more genuinely. He always made her smile, even when he didn't try.

"May I join you?" he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Yuuka smiled wider, nodding too eagerly. Her attention was focused on his touch, the warmth of it, and the breadth of his hand. Yuuka reached up to touch it gently with her fingertips. When she did, he started to pull it away. She grabbed it more tightly, almost pulling it back onto her shoulder, brazenly letting him know that she wanted it there.

"Will you be coming to buy a flower today?" she asked.

"I was just there, but I put it off, because you weren't there to sell it to me," he said as he sat down, his hand still in hers.

Yuuka concentrated on the feel of her hand in his. He probably thinks its a harmless touch, Yuuka thought. She was far too young to be his lover. But in Yuuka's mind, the contact was sensual and fulfilling, if meager and far less than she hoped for.

"Was my mother disappointed?" Yuuka asked. Her mother would be fiercely jealous if she thought that Mr. Gairden liked Yuuka better.

He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Why would she be disappointed? I told her I'd be back. She told me you were here. May I join you for lunch?"

Yuuka smiled brightly again, and Mr. Gairden gave her an almost undetectable smile in return, but she could tell it was there, and it was for her.

* * *

Yuuka handed him the Naked Sun-orchid. It was a very rare orchid, and frighteningly expensive. They'd had to order it specially for him. Yuuka had been very excited when it had finally arrived.

As usual, her favorite part of the day was wonderful. It was that one, brief moment when she handed the flower to him, and she let her hand brush his during the exchange, and he held hers for a moment in return. The contact had grown less and less discreet every time they'd repeated their mercantile dance. She put the flower in his hand, almost putting her hand in his, and he held them both, delicate flower and delicate, love struck girl's hand. Each of them let the touch linger for as long as they could, moving their hands and fingers in subtle ways to change the touch into a thinly veiled caress.

Lately, they'd begun to touch her in other ways, too. They walked closely together to get his flower. His hand might rest on her shoulder as she took it out for him, or he would bend over to look at it in the case first, and she would hover with her head right beside his, their cheeks just brushing, as Yuuka imagined what it would be like to suddenly kiss him.

Afterward, Yuuka moved to the front of the store, as he moved to the register to pay her mother for the flower. From there, Yuuka could look at his body, and his ass and broad shoulders, from behind. She felt herself getting wet again, just as she always did. It embarrassed her, although she was the only one that knew it happened.

Yuuka hadn't had many boys, and what encounters she had had were short lived, frantic and un-fulfilling. Her mother kept her on such a short leash. She was barely allowed to date, and never to stay out late. She struggled to be alone with the boys for long enough to do, or learn to do, anything. She tried, but almost always failed.

She'd lost her virginity, at least, but it hadn't been much fun. She'd tried a few more times with a few boys, with little better result. She loved sex. She thought about it constantly, if guiltily. She just couldn't do much about it, and the boys she knew weren't any better at it than she was.

Mr. Gairden could do it right, she was sure, as she looked him over again. Mr. Gairden could do anything he wanted with her, if he ever tried. If he wanted to. If he didn't have another woman to buy flowers for.

* * *

It was almost dark. The spring sky held just a hint of light in it, as the sun wandered away to bring warmth and joy to the other side of the world. The city street outside was cast in a shadowless black and white and bluish gray as the sun slowly faded away.

In the shop the florescent lights shone brightly, bringing all of the various brilliant displays of color into sharp relief. The flowers seemed to pop and glow about Yuuka. She loved this time of the day, at this time of year. Every Tuesday her mother left her alone in the shop, while she went to play mahjong with her gaggle of old japanese hens. Of course they played the traditional Chinese game by the Japanese riichi and dora rules. Yuuka was left alone amidst the forest of flowers, to tend to occasional customers, to clean up and to close the shop.

Customers at this time of day were thankfully rare. Yuuka could be alone, quiet and happy.

Mr. Gairden had been by almost every day the previous week, but not yesterday, and not today. Yuuka missed him.

Behind her, the bell attached to the door jingled, announcing one of those rare customers. Yukka grimaced at first. She was very close to locking up. She resented the intrusion on her privacy even more than usual. She was startled, and unable to hold back a revealing smile, when she heard the deep, smooth vibrations of his voice.

"What do you have for me today, child?"

"We're closed," Yuuka replied without turning. He couldn't see the smile widening on her face.

"The sign says 'open', child."

"The sign is wrong. We're closed."

Yuuka couldn't contain herself further. She turned to walk behind the counter, letting him see her soft smile. As usual, he didn't return it for her. She'd so rarely seen him smile. It was something she still hoped for every day, almost more than his touch.

"What can I get you, today?" she asked sweetly.

He held her gaze for a long while, almost until Yuuka felt uncomfortable. Eventually, he looked about the store, nonchalantly, as if he were ready to pick out any old thing.

"I've come for a flower."

"We have those," Yuuka answered. She couldn't continue skillfully playing the game of teasing banter, though. She dropped her eyes to the table in embarrassment.

"This is a special flower," he said. "A rare and precious flower. You only have one in the store."

Yukka looked up into his clear blue eyes. She couldn't read his expression.

"Then it will be very expensive," she said.

Mr. Gairden walked over toward one of the glass cases, between two high, long, narrow tables laden with arrangements of lilies and daisies and mums, in simple and ornate vases and in small, wicker baskets. Yuuka hurried around the counter to follow him.

"What is this one?" he asked her, pointing to one reddish pink flower amidst a riot of colors in one large bouquet on one of the tables.

Yuuka stepped past him to look more closely.

"It's an ordinary carnation," she said.

Then his hands were on her shoulders. Yuuka didn't move. His hands felt so large, and warm. They seemed to completely smother her, like a blanket on a cool night. She kept perfectly still, uncertain why he'd touched her so intimately, but wanting very much to keep him from taking his hands away.

"That's not the flower I meant, child," he breathed into her neck.

Yuuka tried not to stiffen. She tried to say calm and still, even as her muscles tensed and her own breathing quickened. His voice was right on top of her, almost in her head, with its lilting, unusual accent. His breath told her he was even closer.

Yukka closed her eyes as his hands slipped smoothly down the length of her arms. When they reached the backs of her hands, he let them glide forward, across her thighs, then up across her belly, encircling and trapping her. His own broad, hard chest pressed against her shoulders and back, as his thick arms imprisoned her.

Do something, Yukka screamed at herself. Don't just stand there. Show him you like this.

His nose brushed her ear lobe, then the side of her scalp, as it slid up through her hair. He inhaled loudly, as if he were smelling a flower.

"I will stop, if you wish, Yuuka," he rumbled. "But this is the flower I want, tonight."

When she didn't move, or reply, his hands slipped down to the tops of her thighs again, where they began a slow, gentle journey backwards, until his palms covered Yukka's small ass.

She tried to hold still, but as his hands touched her there, such a private and virgin part of her, she felt a tingle of unusual pleasure. She instinctively pushed back into him. She arched her back, lifting and pressing her ass into his hands. Yuuka felt a sudden, shivering thrill as he moaned very softly into her hair, while his fingertips explored the crease between her ass and her legs, confidently kneading their way toward the two tender, guarded spots where a man could enter her.

"You're an unusual flower, Yukka," he told her.

His lips touched her neck then. She tipped her head to the side, offering her flesh to him. His lips were warm, and softer than she had expected, but firm and strong. His lips were more like muscles than her own, or the few boys she'd kissed. They pressed against her neck, along with a slight touch of gristle at his chin. He would put his lips to her skin and hold them there for a while, then press a little harder into her skin in a lazy, subdued kiss, before he removed them to place them somewhere else.

Yuuka fought back the urge to moan with the thrill of his attentions. She failed. When the sound escaped from her lips, he moaned into her neck, and his kisses became more eager.

"Most flowers are a pleasure to look at, and to smell. But I need to touch you, too, flower."

He trilled his r's, almost unnoticeably, and drew out the sounds of his o's dramatically. His voice was husky but even, with that faintest trace of an accent coloring his words. Yuuka shuddered, once, involuntarily,

With that, one hand slid forward, to the front of her jeans, where it carefully but easily unclasped the snap as Yuuka began to panic. His hand lowered the zipper, and then inserted itself between the waistband of her panties and her skin. Yuuka bit back the sharp intake of breath that his touch evoked in her. She put her hand on his, gently encouraging him to go further.

His hand slipped next back toward her ass, along the inside of her jeans and panties, separating them from her skin and forcing them to slide slowly down. He pushed them further down her legs, jeans and panties both, to completely expose her to him. Yukka closed her eyes, feeling a slight blush of embarrassment, as she felt his hands rest now on the naked skin of her ass. She felt his lips leave her neck, too, as he seemed to ease back away from her.

She could tell he was looking at her. She blushed further, grateful that he couldn't see her face then.

She could feel his eyes on her bare ass, studying her. She felt an inexplicable urge to move for him then, to push her ass out towards him. She instinctively wanted to be a slut for him. But it wasn't in her. She was too ashamed, too afraid of frightening him away, or of even letting him know that she liked this. He thought of her as a child, or a flower. She was supposed to be sweet.