Prose

His eyes... God, his eyes... I swear they're meant to seize my heart and stop its beating. There's not even anything remarkably significant about them, aside from their color---the mark of a foreigner. And yet... I find myself disturbed by them. Unsettled. As if there's something there I should be wary of and may possibly come to know soon enough regardless of whether I want to or not.

I can't tell. But one thing for certain is they stun me and I can't hold contact for very long. Turning my gaze away, I slowly shift, untangling myself from this nest. Noah, the little brat, has joined Uriel in holding me hostage, his hand upon my arm and hugging it to him like some stuffed toy.

I carefully and slowly slip it out of his grasp, and unwrap myself from Uriel's hold as well. As much as staying in bed sounds like a terribly good thing, my backside aches and I must clean myself before long. No doubt I will have to start another day of ugly routines regardless of my temporary change in habit during the night.

There's no way I'm going to risk more trouble for myself so I climb out of bed and make my way over to the bathroom. My footsteps are a little shaky---Uriel did a thorough job of making a show out of me---but I manage to hold back a heavy wince as I enter the bathroom and close the door behind me, then enter the shower.

As the water runs over my skin, I close my eyes and relish the feeling of warm water slide down my body and soothing the muscles underneath. It is only on some strange, random account that I suddenly call to mind Aurel's eyes and the way they stared at me last night and this morning too.

It's not so much the color of them that strikes a chord in me but the mixture of feelings and thoughts that I cannot even begin to decipher. For the record, his eyes are the color that reminds me of morning fog rolling in over the ocean. It's rare, even naturally, where I live, since fog simply is not something that settles in these regions too often. Were Aurel but a naive boy in these neck of the woods, he would certainly have been nabbed by perverts who would want his eyes on the black market. Or maybe he'd just be sold wholly as a prostitute.

When the general population has my sort of features, dark eyes and dark hair with either fair or tanned skin, seeing someone like him is certainly a rare opportunity. He's a foreigner that stands out amidst the crowd.

...It's not so surprising to know he has a perverted hobby like fucking boys or men. I see more foreigners than natives. It's like getting a prostitute to sate the needs in your loins is a hobby amongst people who travel.

Is it? Is it really? Foreigners are sick.

Aurel, though he hardly speaks a word, must be the same.

Shaking my head, I finish washing up, hoping not to think about the man any longer. I'll have to drag Noah out of bed as well and get him in the shower before we return to our room. I can't really tell, but we might have missed breakfast already. I hope not. And even if we do, I hope we can still get something to eat before continuing on with today's routine.

I'm not sure if Mistress will have Noah working on a full schedule now that he's had a taste of what it's like to be a babae. Maybe, maybe not. If he is put on the job, I only hope there won't be any more incidents of running away. As if either of us need that sort of trouble added upon everything else.

Wrapping myself in a towel, I run a hand through my hair and look at my reflection in the mirror. Though I look fine on the outside, I fear that one of these days I'll become tired and fall into a pit that I won't be able to get out of. I fear the possibility that I might have to retire from this business.

While it sounds strange to be fearful of retiring, let me just say that anyone else's definition of retiring is not the same as in here. In this world, the world of prostitution, the world of callboys, retirement is a permanent resignation from life itself.

And honestly, no prostitute is ever really allowed to retire, especially not at my age, if unless I'm too lame to work. I am not. I'm healthy (as healthy as one can hope or imagine), I'm young, and in no way do I have any broken limbs or ruined features. I'm just tired. Extremely tired. It's not enough to take me out and be rid of me, only whip me or bruise me until I can be put back up for business.

With a sigh, I lean against the counter and try to gather myself. It takes me a moment, but in time I return to playing my little role for Uriel and act as I always do when I exit the bathroom and go about the room picking up clothes. I find my own and set them aside, then Noah's too and put them beside my own. I gather Uriel's over my arm as I lean over his side of the bed and prod his cheek playfully.

Aurel hasn't moved since I left for the bathroom. His eyes do not leave my person either. I ignore him as best I can as I rouse Uriel from sleep and lean down to kiss him upon the cheek. "Wake up, wake up... I'm sure you have things to do today that you won't want to be late for."

Uriel gives a soft groan and opens his eyes. When he sees me, he pulls me down for a lengthy morning kiss. I pull back after a while and he releases me, sitting up. "What time is it?" he yawns and rubs the corners of his eyes.

"Time for you to get up, that's what. I know you like your sleep, but if you hadn't been so energetic last night, you might have had more time to rest." I crack a smile, almost teasing him.

Uriel chuckles and taps me under my chin with his finger. "And not have my wicked way with you? Besides, we had to give your little roommate a good show so that he'll learn well in the future."

Yeah. I'm sure that's exactly why he did it.

"Well now you're in a bind because you have to go already. I too have business to attend to today," I add.

"You make me jealous when you say those words."

I lean in and place a playful kiss on the tip of his nose. "I know," I purr and grin slyly. "Makes you want me even more, doesn't it?"

"Don't get too cocky," Uriel says, though he laughs anyway.

The sound of his laughter rouses Noah who is bleary-eyed and too dazed to really comprehend what's going on. I look at him over Uriel's shoulder before returning my attention back to Uriel. I drag him out of bed, push his clothes into his arms, and shoo him toward the bathroom with a tease.

I go to my clothes and start to dress, determined to have some clothing on after being naked for so long before. The mornings always do get a little chilly during this season. As Noah starts to gather his surroundings, it's only expected when he yelps at the sight of Aurel so close to him.

I watch out of the corner of my eye as the two interact, my eyes wandering over to the man of their own volition. I don't know why, but he unsettles me. He stares at me in a way that isn't quite like the way other patrons stare at me. I wouldn't call it creepy, but it's unusual. I don't know what it means or if it's good or not. Should I be wary?

Averting my gaze when Aurel's eyes suddenly meet mine, I finish changing before dragging Noah out of bed to get ready as well. He can shower in our room. I just want to leave as soon as possible.

After Uriel comes out, we play a little and toss back and forth a little banter while Aurel gets ready. As soon as he is, I suggest we all leave and head to our respective places to be. Uriel, thankfully, agrees and goes with Aurel. I do the same and take Noah with me to our room. We have enough time to change, clean up, and rest a little more before it's time to start another day of work.

Mistress doesn't show that there are any plans for Noah and him taking on any customers, so I'm the only one who gets ready for work. He seems a little shaken up by what happened last night. I don't know what he's thinking, curled up on his side in bed, facing the wall. I don't have the time to ponder or even be concerned. There is no reprieve for me and I find myself jealous of Mistress's leniency toward him.

I want to rest. I want to sleep. I want to laze about and do nothing. I want to be in bed and not have to have sex while in it. I want to do what he's doing and that's absolutely nothing. Why can't I have that same sort of naivety? Why can't I be as stupid as him and still so new to this world? Why did I have to lose my innocence so early in life?

Of course, there are no answers to those questions. No one can answer me.


A week passes and unsurprisingly enough, nothing spectacular happens. Uriel doesn't return to see me turing that time, which doesn't really disappoint me. If I can have no customers ever again, I will be forever happy. However, Tony saw me twice during that time and of all people to return, I would rather it have been someone else, Aldrich even.

Unfortunately, I was stuck with him. Of course, this means I am still sore and healing slowly from the abuse. I don't know why but lately he has been more aggressive with me than ever before. I can't tell if he is in a bad mood when he's with me or if he's simply become more forceful. The usage of toys varies, too. Sometimes Tnoy has the desire to take me himself and ruin me with his own hands, and sometimes he has no urge whatsoever to touch me personally, only see me writhe while he watches. Neither option is particularly more pleasing than the other.

And as for Noah, he's finally starting to accept his role as a babae, though his flow of customers is still very slow. Mistress isn't pushing him too much, which surprises me, but Noah does get at least one person a day. I'm not sure if Mistress if being lenient or trying out a new training technique to keep Noah in the business. Whatever the case, we don't see each other much and talking is kept to a minimum. I get too tired to say little more than a few yes or no questions.

Today, as I lay on the bed, my patron slumped over me, half conscious after a rigorous round together, I can only think of how different it must be to be in the arms of a lover and in the arms of a paying stranger. I don't know myself what it's like to have a lover since I've never been in love before.

The closest I have ever gotten has been my affection for ate Amke. He was my only family, or at least someone close enough to be considered family, and the only person I ever considered looking up to, even if it was begrudgingly. But that wasn't love. It still isn't love. Not the kind I'm talking about.

I have never experienced romantic love. Lovers' love. I can't even fathom what it must be like to feel wholeheartedly for another person specifically, and enjoy sex to the point it must be called "love making."

...I don't understand that term. Love making. It's sex, isn't it? Just sex? It's pumping adrenaline, hormones on the fritz, excitement, heat, friction, exchanging of bodily fluids... It's sex, plain and simple.

I don't understand the difference. Oh well. I doubt I ever will.

As Mervyn gets off of me, I offer to help him shower. He likes the idea of that and pulls me to my feet. We go to the bathroom and turn on the water. No sooner than the spray hits our bodies, he's got me pinned against the wall and has his hands roaming all over my body.

Needless to say, all this touching and playing makes the cleaning process a little difficult and we spend more time in the shower than necessary. But when we finally emerge, Mervyn takes off, dressing and leaving. Just like all the rest. I take my time redressing and rest while I can before getting up and leaving myself.

Meeting with a Caretaker, I am taken to my room to change, a privilege rare for me but for whatever reason, my next patron doesn't want to see me in the same clothes I've worn in the company of someone else. Well, I'm not complaining. I change and spritz myself with cologne. Noah isn't around so I assume he's taking care of his daily customer.

I don't have the time to ponder so I follow the Caretaker to the room where I am to service the next man who's bought some time with me. The Caretaker doesn't give me the name of my patron, which strikes me as odd, but all my confusion wipes away when the door is opened and I enter.

There, sitting across the room, is Aurel.

He doesn't smile at me, nor does he make any advances. I didn't learn much about him the last time we met, only that he is an unusual man. Creepy, too. I don't know his preferences, but I have many acts up my sleeves. Smiling coyly at him, I approach and say, "Aurel Comiskey, right? We didn't really get the chance to know each other last time."

His expression hardly changes, which doesn't really encourage me or tell me what his opinion is of my advances. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing or if he's turned off by my actions. It's hard to read him and tell if anything is working.

I slide up to the chair he's sitting in and settle on the armchair. My arms loops around the back of the chair as I look at him, still smiling. "I'm surprised you asked for me. I would have thought you would've wanted Noah to play with since he's new and still trainable."

He doesn't answer, at least not verbally. All he does is let the the corner of his lips quirk into the hint of a smile. Or maybe a smirk. He might be smirking at me, as if he knows something I don't. Tony's given me such a look before, but I always know what he means despite his sly look. With Aurel... I'm not so sure.

Reaching out, I trace my finger around the rim of his glass. As my hand slides around his, I move it out of the way as I lean in and bring my face close to his. I slip into his lap and straddle his hips, and play with the collar of his shirt. I tug at his tie and work it loose, my fingers lingering in ways that are suggestive. I don't pull him close, but instead move closer myself, and close the distance between us.

Our lips meet and I press into him, my arm looped around his neck while the other still held onto his tie, keeping him in place. He doesn't embrace me back, but when I work my tongue into his mouth, he rubs his against mine and starts kissing me back.

I knew he had good hands, as demonstrated when I saw him with Noah, but that's not the only thing about him that's good too. He's a good kisser too, drawing me in and taking control without much effort. I find myself almost surrendering unwittingly, almost getting lost in the way his tongue moves against mine, the way he nips on my bottom lip, the way he sucks me in and steals my breath...

I have to pull back, though, and stop myself before we hit a dangerous zone. I look at him, wondering just what sort of person he is if he can do this to me with a single kiss. It's been a long time since anyone has had such skill worth recognizing before. "You taste of alcohol," I comment idly, sounding dumb in my own ears.

He responds with that slight smirk of his. He still doesn't speak to me, which bothers me because I'm not sure if that smirk is a good thing or not. The only choice I have is to continue on with this act and hope I don't get swept up by him. If there is one thing I will never allow myself to do, it's willingly let someone else claim me. I will never willingly want to be taken by anyone. Ever. And Aurel, with his fantastic kissing skills, will not change that.

"Shall we move on to the next step?" I ask, purring as I keep up the act. I don't get an direct answer, but he does put his glass down and lets me lead him by his tie as we move from the chair to the bed. If he won't make any first moves, I'll do it myself.

As the backs of my knees hit the bed, I climb on it and bring Aurel with me. Even if sex is such a pain for me, I won't lose a customer just because he wasn't making any advances on me. I will show him just how good I am, and not as some side show in another man's arms. I'm not number three for nothing.

Snaking my hands down his front, I settled them on the front of his pants. I work it open, all the while giving him a seductive look that would surely turn him on. I rub against him and wiggle his pants down his hips. I move to use my mouth to pull down his underwear, lips brushing over the bump of his hard-on. When he's finally exposed, I lean in to take the head---only to be stopped when a hand slips into my hair and stops me.

I look up in surprise at Aurel who stares down at me with an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes dark. I pretend it doesn't bother me and smile, reaching up to remove his hand from my hair. "What, are you shy? Never been blown by another man before? Don't worry, I'll treat you right," I say.

I try to lean in again, but he doesn't surrender his grip. It's still tight and holds me in place. I wonder if he's the type, like Tony, who wants to force it on my instead. It wouldn't surprise me, a lot of my patrons are like that, even to the slightest degree.

But what he does instead, what he says instead, catches me off guard. It freezes me and makes me stare at him with wide eyes and a dumb expression.

"Do you always force yourself like this?"