the introduction

sometimes i say things that later come back to haunt me. so i have no doubt that this one is in the making.

we've planned this weekend for weeks. we don't have much time, usually, so the few moments we have alone and unscheduled, you jump on with excitement. a dinner, a show with loud music, and i'm wearing thigh highs in the summer heat. frantic dash for a cab and we're laughing at our escape.

it's a long drive, and it gets quiet as you close your eyes for a rest and i'm watching the city moving along the glass window. my eyes are lulled by the glittery night lights, and my body is lulled by your steady breathing, and i fall asleep.

you're shaking me awake, gently. i wake up quickly, as your hand snaps out at my cheek. i grab my cheek, in shock - "but i'm awake!", and you smile, big, teeth, saying "i know. i just want the handprint there. come on." and we're out of the cab, in front of a tall building. we may be in the middle of a big city, but suddenly i feel like we're in the middle of nowhere, alone. no protection. and my skin goes cold despite the summer heat.

the entryway, the elevator, you're silent. i'm staring at you, my hand on my cheek. small ding, and you push me off the elevator, and grab my shoulder to push me down the hallway to an office. too dark to notice the name outside, but my heart is my throat because i know where we are, now, although i've never been here before.

"there you are! i was getting a little worried..."

"sorry, the show ran a little long. good to see you..." and hugs between the two men who haven't seen each other in a long time. i'm standing there nervously, looking at him, looking at the floor, my feet, nowhere for very long.

"so, this is your new property." he's taller than i expected. he's looking at my face, and grabs my chin. i'm much shorter than him, so he pulls it up to stare into my eyes. "one glance, bitch, and then you're not to look at me anymore." i gasp a little, my eyes drink in his face, and shut tightly. he laughs. "she responds well. i think this might work for a trade."

"yes," you say. "she's born for this."

his hand lets my chin go, and reaches up my skirt, stabbing fingers. "spread," he says, and i do. i hear you laugh. "she's wet, isn't she."

the man laughs. "soaking."

"a born whore."