A man trying to go straight takes on a new role at a secretive business and gets more than he bargained for…
The entryway was fucking grand: fountain, high ceiling, beautiful art in an Italian villa vibe without that…I dunno, fake American feeling? It's like those McMansions I robbed versus what you'd see in the movies representing some house in Europe.
Not that any of it really registered in my eye. The beautiful…no, stunning raven-haired woman that stood in the center of it, chit-chatting with the receptionist, that's what caught my fucking eye. Practically flawless milky white skin, and damn I loved those tits. Not too big, not too small. And fuck, those legs! Like a…like a horse. Colt? Coltish, yeah. Fuck, I need to go back for my degree.
She was wearing heels and a black dress, no doubt waiting for an appointment, but I felt her gaze turn to me as I stepped up. I realized she was almost my height in that getup, which is pretty impressive for a chick. I had about ten years on her, I think. Well within range.
A familiar, alpha instinct to protect her came over me, keep her safe from what as out there. Guys like me, I guess. Same instinct that helped get me into my first stint.
I snuck a look when she turned away to head upstairs, impressed by the tightness of that —
"Can I help you?"
"Ah, er, yeah. I'm here to see Mr. Childers. I'm Henry Pape."
"Welcome Mr. Pape. The new hire, right?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"He's ready to see you now. First door on the left down the hall."
As I headed down, for some reason I knew that the woman was still looking. Must like that prison-built body…most chicks do.
My hand was sore from filling out forms in "triplicate" or whatever he called it, contracts and terms of hire, the words "ironclad" and "NDA" thrown about. I'd imagine they kept all staff in-house for control — contractors were more likely to spill secrets, and janitorial and maintenance were usually good for casing joints.
Mr. Childers looked at me from behind his spectacles and mustache, an old man in a modern suit, still somehow managing to look a century behind.
"All set, Mr. Pape," he said as he shook my hand.
"Henry."
He carried on as if I'd said nothing. "I'll give you one final tour, show you where to put your items, and we'll get you nice and productive tonight."
I still couldn't believe my luck at landing the job. Ex-cons only, and yet the pay was enough that I could maybe dream of a normal life. House, car, even a family and I wouldn't even have to rob the place. I guess they were part of some program to help rehab guys like me, guys trying to get back on the straight and narrow after a few failed attempts. Probably for tax breaks, but I didn't give a shit as to why, honestly.
Childers showed me the various rooms of the house, the lockers, the maintenance closet, heavy duty cleaners and mops for the various bodily fluids I'd be cleaning up, checklists for turning a room over. As he prepared to let me go about my duties, he put a hand on my shoulder and set a stern look upon me.
Another man putting his hand on my shoulder usually resulted in blood. Childers avoided being the third body on my rap sheet because…I don't know. He just seemed alright, and I needed this job. And, even though he was smaller and older, it just didn't feel like a good idea.
"Do you know why we chose you, Mr. Pape?"
I avoided the smart ass first answer. "I'll get shit done and work hard."
"That too, but that is not it." He looked at the ink on my forearm, done by a nice guy doing three years for car jacking.
Redemption.
"I was like you once, Mr. Pape. Lost, seeking my way back into society. You were an English major before your troubles started, yes?"
I nodded, feeling oddly ashamed that he knew. An ex-con was simply that — not much was expected. Bringing that up just reminded me of squandered potential.
"And why did you end up incarcerated your first time?"
I remembered the guy's body below me, his blood and teeth on my knuckles, our shirts, the ground. For what he did to her. He should have suffered more.
I choked it back. "I don't talk about it. It's in the past."
"Fair enough. You're on your last strike, a final chance, but I can see it in your eyes, just how far you'll go to keep this job, stay in our good graces. It is a vote of confidence…in you."
"Thank you — " but he was already off.
I reviewed the checklist one last time, making sure I did my first one right. Towels, sheets, breath mints. Bathroom looked good. Everything else was still in stock here.
As I stepped out, I caught the raven-haired woman coming back downstairs. I shot my shot.
"Hey. I'm Henry." I stuck a hand out and she grabbed, shaking it gingerly. Her skin was cool to the touch.
"Ariel."
She had that uptight look of amusement that high-class girls sometimes got, which is a good starting place for getting laid with that kind of girl. I guess the place was expensive enough for that kind of attitude.
"Nice to meet you, Ariel. What brings a girl like you to a place like this?"
"Is something wrong with this?" she said as she waved her arm.
"Hey, no, I totally respect it. It's a living, and considering what they pay me, I bet you're making way the fuck more."
"I do well enough. I'm normally in the offices but I wanted to try something different. Something exciting. Just a taste. Haven't you wanted that, Henry?"
That got a bit of a chuckle from me. "I've had enough excitement in my life. I intend to keep my head down, get my work done, and get paid. No need for any more excitement. That just means trouble."
Something clicked in me when she smiled in response, the approval of a beaming parent to the child that was me, that weird instinct popping up in me again. I guess prison made any sort of female warmth a novelty to me these days.
"You guys…safe here? Security and all that?" I said, gesturing at nothing in particular.
"We are, but your concern is touching. Just don't find that trouble you're trying to avoid."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I like you, Henry. Very much so. I think we'll work together quite nicely."
We were interrupted by some raised voices and looked over to a commotion in the hall. Two taller gentlemen, giving off that greasy asshole-in-finance vibe, were harassing a small, pretty blonde in tight, dark blue dress, yelling and pointing, even as the receptionist tried to intervene.
"This bitch owes us what we paid for!"
A blinding rage overtook me as they menaced toward her. I'd seen this show before, and this one would end with a few blood messes under my —
Ariel's cool touch on my shoulder dissipated my bloodlust, and her presence seemed to do the same for the men in the room. It was a nice calm, like when I put some of that anger management shit into action, but better.
"Perhaps I could entertain you gentlemen tonight? All the services offered, and more. A bonus, if you will."
The blonde was forgotten as she scurried off while the two frat boys grinned like wolves as they looked Ariel up and down. They could only nod in response, the rest of their blood flow probably going to their notable bulges. I still felt ill at ease at her method of intervention, old instincts threatening to rise up again.
"Violet," she said to the receptionist. "I'll take the Emperor's Suite for the night. Move any appointments out from there."
The men lit up, their impending jackpot confirmed.
She turned to me, further easing my discomfort. "Prepare everything for me in there in ten minutes. Everything."
I checked the inventory to make sure I had laid out the everything she requested. It was pretty obvious what some of the items were for and, well, I'd never been intimidated by size before tonight. The leather stuff, I kinda got that, I guess; back of cop car items, easy to understand.
A lot of the stuff, though, I'd have no idea where it would go or what it would do. Seriously, there should be an exam for this shit.
When I returned, she was entertaining them with some drinks, their conversation charged with knowledge of what was to come.
"The room's all set."
The men quickly got up and escorted Ariel, one with a hand on her lower back that slid down to her ass.
I didn't quite catch the conversation, my gaze still stuck on her, when she turned to me and winked. It set off a chain reaction in my mind that led to my cock while simultaneously putting me at ease. Neat trick. That's what a dry spell can do to you.
Her finance bros raised their voices in their bids to keep her attention as they all entered the room.
One was surveying the items within, pointing at something. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, baby?"
Bro number two chimed in. "C'mon, we'll have some fun. We'll start you with just a taste."
She settled onto her knees in front of them as the door closed.
My duties took me past the room several times that night. Her screams had me worried at first, the possibility that they'd hurt her moving me to my more murderous impulses. Once I heard them settle into deep pleasure, a bite of anguish and jealousy in my heart went along with a deep arousal, represented by the uncomfortable tent in my pants.
Her room was the last that I'd work that night, a final round of cleaning up any number of bodily fluids. It was just after five in the morning when she emerged, the look of a woman wholly satisfied. She was dressed, her mussed outfit and wild hair complementing her ruined makeup.
Sweat among other liquids were caked upon her, but the hint of red that seeped from two of her fingers and a bit more from her mouth were in obvious contrast to her pale skin, although none of it was on the rest of her. With a flourish of her fingers, she cleaned up both, sucking it all into her mouth
"The room's all yours, Henry," she said, the door slightly ajar behind her.
As I stepped close, an odd mix of sex and…copper assaulted my nose. I pushed the door open and failed to stifle a gasp.
"What the fuck happened?"
I turned and saw Ariel watching, seemingly amused by my reaction to the scene in front of me.
"I wanted something, and they gave it to me. All. Night. Long."
That eerie calmness settled over me again as she looked deep into me, bringing with it that odd clarity, although I asked my question. "What the fuck did you want from them?"
She smiled and let out an amused giggle. "Just a taste."
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