“Care to introduce yourself?” the blond guy asks.
Meeting my eye instead of the newcomer’s, Tux Guy smirks, a false air of confidence rolling off him. He sighs. “Of course. I’m Plato. I see you’ve already met my friend Persephone?”
Plato’s fingers skate over the creamy, perfect skin of the woman on the blond guy’s arm; he traces them over her stomach, up, so that he’s skimming the swell of her breast. The girl doesn’t move. She remains glued to the spot, allowing Plato to explore her body, seemingly unfazed, as the blond guy watches on.
“Oh yes. She’s fucking perfect. And so are you.”
Plato looks hungry, but it seems false. Like he’s acting. “Would you like for me and Persephone to put on a show for you?” he asks the blond guy. He steps closer to the man, so close that their chests are almost touching. The blond guy’s eyelids droop as he looks from Persephone to the other man.
“Yeah. Yeah, I want you to fuck her good for me, man. I’m going to watch.”
Plato pouts. “Is that all? I was hoping…” His hand disappears between their bodies, and suddenly the blond guy is stiffening, his shoulders growing tense. He makes a low, warning growl in his throat.
“I’m not fucking gay,” he hisses.
“I never said you were,” Plato offers. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t suck your dick. And it doesn’t mean you can’t fuck my ass, either.”
I stand back as the three of them move toward a low couch in the center of the room, where Plato begins to slowly strip out of his suit. His attention is fixed on the woman and the man in front of him, but his gaze flashes to me every so often. He’s trying to see if I get it now. And I do. This place is full of rich bastards, willing to pay to have their deepest, darkest desires fulfilled. It is also full of people, held here in this room against their will, who are forced to submit to whatever is asked of them. On pain of…I don’t know. I’m not sure what the punishment would be if any of these “workers” refused to do their jobs, but I’m sure it can’t be good.
In no time at all, Plato is completely naked and he’s inside Persephone, fucking her hard and fast while the blond customer watches, stroking his hard cock through his black pants. I can see the desire in his eyes. I can see violence, too. This whole thing has started off pleasant enough, but I know men like this fucking blond dude, and I know what he really wants to do. He wants to hurt them. He wants to watch the pain in their eyes—pain that he causes—and he wants to get off on it.
The room is full of violence, shame and terror, all of which is thinly disguised by a grim patina of desire and lust. The woman on her knees, blowing a guy a few feet from me, is fingering her own pussy, palming her tits as she works her lips and her tongue up and down the guy’s shaft, but her moans are forced. She’s not enjoying herself, and she sure as shit doesn’t want to be here. Plato’s cock is rock solid as he uses it to pound Persephone in the ass, but I get the feeling there might have been some sort of stimulant involved on that front.
I stay exactly where I am, and I try to keep my head down. The occupants of the room all seem to be fairly involved in their activities at hand (or mouth, or ass, as the case might be), but I don’t want to draw attention to myself, so I stand perfectly still and I watch.
The blond guy with Plato and Persephone finally gives up the pretence and gives in to what he really wants. He grabs hold of Plato by the hair and kisses him roughly, jamming his tongue into his mouth. Plato responds, sucking on it and groaning while Persephone rocks her hips against his, the two of them still fucking. The blond guy lets go of Plato’s hair and runs his hand down Plato’s back, until he’s reaching in between his legs and he’s cupping Plato’s balls. With his other free hand, he cups and squeezes Persephone’s tits, so that he’s touching and caressing them both while they writhe against each other.