apathy (sequel to fervor)

૩મ | ᴊᴏʙ.

૩મ | ᴊᴏʙ.

Hell.

That was a more pleasurable term to define what I was going to go through. It turns out that there was a whole operation behind it all, and Martin wasn't very far from the center of it. It all took place in a huge hotel. Martin pulled up in the driveway, and looked at himself in the mirror. He actually looked nice for once in a while, wearing a pastel green oxford. I guess he wanted it to match his eyes. He noticed that I was staring at him, and I looked away, blushing. 

I felt his hand rub my thigh, and I squeezed my thighs together to get him to stop. He sighed, his warm hand leaving my thigh. He made me look at him, and he softly smiled. His eyes burned right through mine..I felt a chill run down my spine. Martin's eyes were beautiful, a soft, pretty hazel color. It was a shame his personality wasn't as nice as his eyes. His eyes were unreadable, cloudy. 

"You'll do great, Monae, they'll love you." 

Of course they'll "love" me. They're paying for what I have between my legs, and it's sick. It's not that hard to find a woman, there's plenty to go around. I nodded, my eyes returning to my lap. Martin got out, and came around the passenger side of the car, opening the door for me. I stepped out of the car, the chilly wind immediately freezing my bare legs and thighs. I constantly pulled down the sides of the dress, but it kept riding up while I walked. The dress barely covered my butt, and each time I took a step, a gust of cold air would brush between my thighs. 

I wasn't wearing any panties.

Martin said that it would better that way, but I simply felt uncomfortable. I had no idea why someone wouldn't wear underwear. I could understna dif you were trying to be sexy, but on the regular, that's a no. Too much air between the legs. Martin wrapped his arms pulling me close to him. "You look pretty, baby," he kissed my cheek. All day, Martin's been giving me compliments, but it was blantanly obvious that he didn't know what he was doing. He was simply trying to butter me up, and it wasn't working. 

We entered the home, Martin showing off the tattoo on his neck. We walked past the bouncers, and I pushed myself into Martin more. I was nervous, and the men we walked by looked at me as if I was a piece of meat. I could hear them talking about me, and a few of the girls by them pointed at me. I grabbed Martin's hand, and he snickered, "Don't let them get to you like that." 

We walked into an elevator, and Martin pressed the button for the fifth floor. I could feel Martin watching me, but this time, I felt as if his stare wasn't so harsh, like the usual. I was quiet as we rode up, my mind racing with thoughts on what I could possibly do to get out of this. Maybe there was someone who just had a shread of humanity, someone who knew that I didn't belong here. The soft ding out the elevator pulled me back into my thoughts, and Martin held the elevator open as I stepped out. "This is your first customer of the night," he told me slowly. 

I nodded, and he continued. "He's in room 534." He kissed my forehead, and I turned around, walking down the hallway. I passed by a few girls, who were leaving out of rooms. One of them wiped her mouth with her finger, and I wanted to gag. I looked over my shoulder, and Martin wasn't there. It wasn't like he was going to let me leave, anyway. He wanted his money. I sighed, and pulled my dress down for about the hundreth time. I passes several rooms, and in some of them, I could hear loud moans.

524..

526...

530..

534.

I took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. "Come in," called a voice from the inside. I twisted the handle, opening the room. The room was large, I was greeted by a man, shirtless, a half grin on his face. He was laying on the bed, a tray with some champagne on the bed next to him. He wasn't bad looking, his skin was a soft chcolate tone, and he had deep dimples. I closed the door behind me, holding my hands together in front of me. I bit my lip, and he chuckled. 

"First time, hm?" He asked, his voice deep.

I nodded. I felt like I was going to pee on myself. I was so nervous. I didn't even know where, or how to go about htis. People don't go to school to be taught how to be prostitutes. I realized that I was shaking, and the man seemed to enjoy that. "What's your name, beautiful?" 

"Monae.." I told him, my voice barely above a whisper. He patted the spot next to him on the bed, and I stepped out of my heels, slowly making my way onto the bed. I felt sick to stomach, like I was going to throw up at any time. "I'm Dark," he said, picking up the bottle of champagne and beginning to pour it into two glasses. I watched him intently, and gulped when he handed one of the glasses to me. I shook my head, "N-No thanks.." "It'll loosen you up. You seem so tense.." he mumbled, his eyes trailing my figure.

"I-I'm not.." I trailed off. I couldn't say it. How was I supposed to tell him that I was a few years under the limit for drinking? I wasn't about to accept that drink either, he could've put something in the champagne way before I got here. Dark raised an eyebrow, "Let me guess, you ain't legal-legal?" I nodded, "I'm only eighteen." Dark bit his lip, and released a deep breath. "Well damn, you could've fooled me!"

But my age didn't stop him from trying to get what he wanted.

I screamed, throwing the bottle of champagne at him. He ducked, and it hit the wall behind him. "Come here, bitch!" He yelled at me, pulling me off the bed. I screamed louder, hitting at his chest. I scratched him, and he hissed, trying to pull my dress off. I managed to push him off of me, and I tried to run towards the door, but he pulled me back by my hair. "Get on that fucking bed, now!" He growled at me, throwing me towards the bed. I kicked him in the chest, and pushed myself off of the bed. I yanked open the door, and ran out into the hallway, heading to the elevator. My heart was in my stomach, and I was breathing harshly. 

In the elevator, I looked at myself in the reflecting metal. My hair was all over the place, the side of my dress was torn, and my eye was bruised. I took a series of deep breaths, and soon the elevator rode down to the lobby. The doors opened, and there stood Martin, who looked surprised to see me. I stepped out of the elevator, beginning to cry. His features softened, and I walked into him, crying onto his chest. I felt his arms wrap around me, and he sighed. "Let me take you home, come on.."

At home, I had changed out of the out too-tight dress, and was in bed. Not just any bed, Martin's bed. He insisted that he would take care of me, and wouldn't take no for an answer. Martin dabbed my cheek with a cottonball, cleaning the cut from under my eye. He also dabbed my lip, and gave me a soft smile. It was silent between us, and for once, it didn't feel so tense. Martin finished, and kissed my forehead. 

I looked up at him, and into his eyes. Martin began to lean in, and kissed me, soft and slow. He caressed my face, pushing me back. He climbed between my thighs, his hands on either side of me. He pulled away, licking his lips. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me, but I wanted more. We simply stared at each other for a while, and I bit my lip. 

"I want you, so much right now.."