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Copyright 2017 Daisy Rose
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. No part in this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or distributed without permission of the author or publisher.
This is a standalone short story featuring half a dozen dominating alpha males and a single innocent submissive who is completely destroyed by ecstasy.
It also contains scenes including public exhibitionism and humiliation, domination by strangers, bondage, nipple clamps, sex toys, ropes, MFM, gangbangs and lots of other steamy scenes you will thoroughly enjoy.
Chapters with 18+ scenes are indicated with an asterisk (*).
There was a bird on the other side of the glass, preening its beautiful white feathers as it perched on the steep edge of window. There were streaks of black across its neck and tail. Was it a dove? It was too pretty for the polluted air here.
"You know why you're here?"
I looked up from the bird I had been blinking dumbly at and nodded at the man in front of me. My tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of my mouth, too heavy for words.
I was so hungry I could barely think, let alone speak. There was ten bucks left in my bank account and I needed that money to get back to my apartment. An apartment I will soon be losing.
Nothing I'd heard about New York was true. There was no rags to riches story waiting for me here. I came into the city five months ago with everything I had, only to lose it all to the hustle and bustle of the bright city lights.
"Says here you're twenty one?" he asked. His voice was male and deep. Really nice. A shiver went through me and I told myself I was here for a job, not to ogle over the hot interviewer. No matter how hot he was.
I nodded. My hands trembled slightly and I pressed them together to keep them still. My heart was pounding loudly.
"You graduated high school a few years ago. What have you been doing since?" he asked.
Everything was there on the paper. Why was he asking me? I brushed a hand over my hair and shot him my thousand-watt smile. "I've been working odd jobs here and there," I said. That was the truth. I had worked everywhere that would hire me. Cleaning toilets, washing pots, stocking shelves... Although I doubt any of my prior work experience would help me.
I felt, rather than heard the judgment coming from him. He didn't seem pleased that I never went to college. Higher learning education was a luxury afforded by the rich.
"Do you think you could find a job for me?" I asked finally, unable to stand the quietness any longer.
The handsome stranger finally looked up from the piece of paper he had been staring at for the past ten minutes to focus his perfect blue orbs on me. I almost wished he hadn't. His eyes all but stripped me naked right there in my seat, never mind that there were people all around us, being interviewed for different work.
"Any family to speak of?" he asked.
I shook my head. A familiar tightness gripped at my heart at the mention of my family. "Car accident," I offered at his enquiring gaze.
"Thank you." I shrugged.
"Who're you staying with now?" he asked.
He nodded. "No other family?"
"None that I know of."
I was determined not to let depression take over my life after the only family that mattered to me was ripped away from me so cruelly. The drunk driver survived but my family was lost in the crash. The thought that they wouldn't want me to throw away my life was the only thing that kept me going. My family wasn't rich to begin with and the funeral expenses took away what little money we had.
I had absolutely no idea what I would do without my family by my side. I'd never been so terrified in my life.
The lawyers sold the apartment we had in order to pay for the funeral and the hospital expenses, although the reason why dead people would have hospital expenses eluded me.
I did well in high school, but school didn't pay the bills. The moment I graduated, I started work. I never stayed with the same job long enough to make lasting friendships. I was terrified that I would spend the rest of my life working dead-end jobs just to pay the bills.
When I shared my fears with Caroline, my high school best friend who was already in her second year of university, she sold me the success story of New York City. She said she envied me. She envied the fact that I could build a whole new life elsewhere with nothing to tether me in the small town where we grew up.
I took her words to heart. I packed what little possessions I had and purchased a one way bus ticket to the city that never sleeps.
On the first day, I made the mistake of answering an ad on a flyer I picked up from the road and went to a job interview in a cafe. I was surprised by the scantily clad woman who showed up.
She asked whether I wanted to work as an escort. The money could be lucrative for someone like me. My mother was Russian and my father was American. I had her blue eyes and high cheekbones and his tanned skin and dirty blond hair. I declined, thinking there would be better opportunities for me elsewhere. She laughed at the idea of a better-paying job for a nobody like me. She called me naive and a little stupid, then gave me a card for when I changed my mind. Not 'if'. When.
Five months later, I believed her. I was stupid to think I had a better chance of making it out here. I couldn't even find work as a cleaner! I'd probably fetch a higher price as an escort on account of being a virgin. I tried to remember where I left the number.
"Do you have any other special skills you can add to your resume?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"Do you play any musical instruments?"
I shook my head again.
"Any babysitting experiences? Baking skills? Modeling experience?"
I continued shaking my head and wondered if I should even bother stopping.
I doubted there was any job offer waiting for me here. The interviewer did not like my qualifications (or lack thereof) judging by the frown on his face.
My fears were confirmed when he spoke. "Listen Ms-" he glanced at the papers. He couldn't be bothered to remember my name for five minutes. "Ms. Belle. I'm afraid there isn't anything here that you qualify for. But if something comes up, I'll let you know."
My heart dropped.
"Thank you for your help," I tried to nod at him politely, but my eyes were already filling up with frustrated tears. My stomach chose that moment to betray me and growl.
He looked up with pity and I turned around in abject horror. This was turning out to be a worse day than I had anticipated. My cheeks flamed red with shame.
"Wait," he said.
I whirled back, hopeful that he had miraculously came up with something in the short second I had my back turned. He only had his hand out.
"Best of luck, Ms. Belle. I'm sure there's ample opportunity out there for someone as beautiful as yourself."
That's an odd thing to say. Frowning, I took his outstretched hand and shook it. There was something in his palm. He winked at me as he slid me the paper, then sat down and avoided my eyes pointedly.
I hurried out of the office. I waited until I was nowhere near the office before lifting my palm to look at the paper the stranger had slid to me.
There was just a single name card with a number on it. I dialed the number without thinking. The dial tone beeped in rhythm with tapping heels. I told myself to calm down.
"Hello? Mr. Jason?" I swallowed, trying to wet my suddenly dry throat.
"Hello," a definitively male voice said, amusement clear in his voice.
"I um... I got your number from an interviewer and I was hoping to get a job..."
"Of course. I have a few questions."
"Okay," I cupped my hand to the phone, trying to hear him through the sound of cars driving past as I walked further into an alley to avoid being in the way of the fast moving traffic.
"Name and age?"
"Belle Raven. I'm twenty one."
"Not at the moment. I'm looking for a full time work."
"Good, good," he murmured. "Are you comfortable with moving for the job? Food and lodgings are provided, of course."
My heart stopped at my throat. Food and lodgings?! My mother's warning voice about things that sounded too good to be true echoed in my mind. I drew a deep breath and ignored her voice of reason. "I'll be more than happy to move!" I still had no idea what the work was.
"Are you afraid of needles and pain, Belle?"
I gulped. What's that got to do with anything? "I'm sorry?" My voice was breathless and soft, which flustered me.
"Are you afraid of a little pain, Belle? I'm afraid the work requires you to have some level of pain tolerance."
"A little pain... is alright I suppose?" I murmured, growing more and more worried by the second. What kind of job was it?!
"Do you have any medical ailments or preexisting conditions?"
"Have you been pregnant before and are you pregnant now?"
"You're a perfectly healthy young woman then." I could hear the smile of satisfaction in his voice.
"Are you in a relationship currently?"
"How much experience have you had with sexual intercourse?" he asked.
"Excuse me?!" I gasped.
"It's important that you answer, Belle. How many sexual partners have you had?"
"I- I don't know?" I whispered.
"A lot, then?"
"How many years of sexual experience have you had?"
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a long while. Did he hang up? I was relieved when he started talking again. I let go of a breath I didn't realize I had been holding.
"You're a virgin?"
My voice was meek and soft. "Yes."
Relief that I hadn't botched the interview filled my heart, warming me. I still had a chance to not be homeless.
"Do you touch yourself at night?"
And the relief was gone.
I bit my lip and considered hanging up the phone. This was turning out to be a lot more personal than I thought. I watched cars and unknowing pedestrians move past me with an irrational fear that they could hear everything the man was asking.
I admitted softly, "Sometimes." My cheeks were fast turning red from embarrassment. This was a highly inappropriate line of questioning. What in the world was I getting myself into?
My stomach chose the moment to growl noisily, as if reminding me that I needed to eat.
"Do you use toys?" He asked the question as if it were the most normal thing in the world to ask a woman during a job interview.
"No toys," I whispered, certain that the people around me could guess what we were talking about. I was getting flustered and the line of questioning was starting to have an effect on my body that I didn't appreciate. At least not in broad daylight in the midst of strangers. I tried to melt into the wall.
There was a cafe right next to me where the delightful scent of coffee and muffins was awakening a fresh bout of hunger in my belly.
"No experience with sex toys?"
"None." I didn't know why I was still answering questions. That was a lie. I knew exactly why I was still answering his ludicrous questions. I needed the get a job to afford food.
"Not even dildos and vibrators?" he sounded pleased.
"No." My voice was getting softer and softer. The toys were expensive. I could barely feed myself, let alone splurge on expensive, unnecessary sex toys.
"This should be interesting for the both of us then, Belle."
I cleared my throat and finally gathered enough courage to ask, "May I know what the job is, Mr. Jason?"
"You may refer to me as 'Sir' or 'Master Jason'," he corrected.
I gulped. When the silence prolonged uncomfortably, I realized he was waiting for me to repeat the question with the right honorific. "What's the work that I'm expected to do, Sir?"
"You're here to assist me in a series experiments," he said. "Once that is over, you will be generously compensated."
I daren't ask how much he was offering. The fact that he had offered to put a roof over my head and feed me was amazing enough.
"What kind of experiments?" I gulped. It didn't sound like he was asking me questions for experiments. It sounded like he was going to fuck me in weird and novel ways.
"Everything will be made known to you once you arrive," he answered without answering. "I just have one last question."
"Yes, Mr- I mean, yes, sir?"
"When can you start?"
My mother's voice echoed in my head once more. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is... I shook my head and ignored her, "Immediately."