Chapter Text
Standing on legs as shaky as a newborn foal's, you rise from the bed and stumble over to Arthur. He catches you tightly around the waist and pulls you in, kissing you so roughly you can feel your lips starting to swell almost immediately. His tongue slides into your mouth, over your teeth, until you get the hint and open up, letting him explore until he pulls away again.
He presses his lips to your ear. "Liked what you said just now," he breathes, sharply nipping at your lobe. "You gonna be my little whore?"
"Yes, Arthur."
"You gonna let me fuck that beautiful mouth?"
"God...yes, please."
The thing you have feared is now the thing you want most of all.
His hand gropes around between your legs and comes back up, his fingers webbed with juices. "You're so wet for me. That's making me feel real good, but I think I could feel even better. Get on your knees."
You hesitate for a second, and Arthur puts his hands on your shoulders and pushes you down. "I ain't playing with you, girl. You said you wanted it rough and that's how I'm gonna make it." He fumbles at his belt, pulling it free and unzipping his pants. "I'm gonna leave these on...something about that gets me hard enough to cut glass." He pulls his engorged cock out from the fly and you stare at it. It's not the biggest you've seen in your line of work, but it's damn close.
"Now here's what you're gonna do. First of all...wait, I got an idea." He nimbly steps around you and goes to the full length mirror standing in the corner. He picks it up and puts it several feet behind you before returning to his place in front of you. "This way I got a look at both sides while you're sucking me off. Can't imagine I'd get tired of the view up front, but I wouldn't mind taking a look at the back every now and again."
"Yes, Arthur."
"Gonna be a miracle if I don't shoot off before I even get your mouth around me," he mutters. Shaking his head as if to dispel a dream, he says, "Okay, now take my cock in your hand and get a good feel of it."
Could a man's cock be properly described as beautiful? You're sure that Arthur wouldn't much care for the description, but it's really the only adjective you can think of. You think about a cigarette card you once saw of a famous statue in Italy. You take it in your hand and cannot close your fingers all the way around it, the velvety soft skin belying the steel beneath. A clear pearl of moisture appears at the tip. "Lick that away."
You sit back on your haunches, and he raises an eyebrow. "What happened to you wanting me to shoot my load down your throat? I said lick that away. I tasted your cunt off my fingers, it's all of a piece."
You lean back in and dart your tongue out, swiping it away. You close your eyes and take a moment to get used to its salty flavor.
"The main course is basically going to taste like that, just a whole lot more of it."
"Yes, Arthur."
"Listen carefully, 'cause here's what I want you to do next. Take just the head of my cock into your mouth and suckle at it a bit."
You inhale deeply, close your eyes, and do as he commands. It is soft as suede, and you lick the slit. He moans and you feel his hands tangle up in your hair, and then he grabs the back of your head and rams his cock down your throat as far as he can.
Your eyes fly open, and you look up at him, tears pouring down your face. You begin to gag, and he says, "Easy, easy...breathe through your nose, take a moment to get used to it, I ain't gonna let you choke."
You swallow hard, instinctively, feeling your throat muscles constrict against the length of him. A stream of saliva begins pouring out of the corner of your mouth.
"You okay?"
You nod.
"I'm gonna start thrusting now. Just keep breathing through your nose."
As he thrusts deep into your throat, you cannot help yourself. You dig your fingernails into his bare thighs.
"My sweet little kitten has claws! Lucky for you, I like that a lot." His hands twine tighter through your hair, giving it a tug just at the threshold of painful. "Look into my eyes while I take my pleasure of you."
You look up into those clear blue eyes, and you are not sure what you're reading there, but you will not break your gaze.
"You are so fucking beautiful," he gasps. "I can't even tell you what it feels like to be inside your mouth right now."
Taking a gamble, you brace yourself against his hips and pull away. He opens his mouth as though to reprimand you, but you say, "Tell me what you're seeing in the mirror," and quickly devour him again. You arch your back and slide your knees apart, pushing your right hand between your legs and frantically rubbing your clit.
"My god, you're going to kill me! Those stockings are perfectly framing your ass and I can see what you're doing, frigging that tight little cunt with your fingers. You naughty girl, I can't..."
His fingers pull the bobby pins in your hair free, and they clatter to the floor. He continues thrusting into your throat, and you make mewling little cries as he does, and then you feel him pulsing inside of your mouth and you think you will gag again but, as you promised, you swallow every drop, and you find your own release with your fingers. Arthur is panting heavily, his head thrown back against the wall, his eyes closed, and you are not sure what to do, so you wait. Finally, he seems to snap back to reality, and he says, "My good girl. You can stop now."
You pull away, and Arthur's rapidly softening cock slaps wetly against his thigh. He takes a deep breath and tucks it back into his pants. You hand him his belt, and with unsteady fingers, he clasps it back on. You stand and sit down on the edge of the bed, watching as he moves the mirror back into place. He smooths his hair down, straightens his shirt, and turns back to you.
"That was...well, goddamn, girl, I don't really have the words for it. You did a real good job."
"Thank you, Arthur."
"I'll be sure to tell Madam it went well. I think you got an idea what to do now."
"Thank you for teaching me, Arthur."
He starts walking towards the door, but then he pauses and walks back to you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and puts his hand under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.
"Be well," he says, and he leaves.
You sit for a moment, thinking upon what has just happened, feeling strangely bereft now that he's gone. But you are a professional, so you stand and go to the basin and wash your face and wipe down your thighs and between them. You start to get dressed, then decide you have earned the right to a little nap before your next client, so you clean up the broken bottle and the spilled whiskey, pull on your sleeping shift, and climb into bed.
* * * * *
"Lily."
You moan and pull the sheet over your head.
A hand grabs your shoulder. "Lily!"
You sit up, scrubbing at your eyes. "What?" you snap, and then you realize Madam is the one waking you up, and you flinch.
"I'm sorry, Madam, I was a bit tired and..."
"Get dressed and pack your things."
You're not sure you heard her right. "What?"
"You're done here."
You gasp, horrified. You don't want to work here, but you have nowhere else to go. "Madam, please! What did I do wrong? I did what you asked! Did Mr. Morgan say something?"
"He certainly did."
"Then what was the problem? Mr. Morgan seemed well pleased."
Madam smiles and shakes her head. "Mr. Morgan and I came to a very lucrative agreement."
"I---I don't understand."
She hands you something, and you blink hard to clear away the tears blurring your vision. "This is my contract."
"It's a useless piece of paper now. Mr. Morgan bought out your contract. I didn't want to let you go, but it turns out he can be a very persuasive man. You're his now, and he's waiting for you outside."
You leap to your feet and get dressed in record time, Madam watching you, the side of her mouth quirked in amusement. You cast a quick eye around the room and say, "I want nothing here."
"But your things---"
"Give them to Violet!" you call over your shoulder as you race down the stairs and through the swinging double doors.
Arthur is standing across the street, leaning against his horse. You stop in front of him, gasping; you're not used to such exertions. He lights a cigarette and watches you, giving you a moment to catch your breath.
"Mr. Morgan---"
"Arthur."
"Arthur. Why did you...?"
He takes a deep drag of his cigarette and blows out the smoke. "I ain't letting my hard work go to waste on nobody else. Just one thing, though, before we leave this goddamned place. Is Lily your real name?"
"No."
"What should I be calling you then?"
And you lean forward and tell him.