My Boss, My Forbidden Desire

CHAPTER 1 "Ahh... damn it! The gigolos at this place are getting more useless by the day. I barely even felt a twitch down there, and you've already ejaculated. You're absolutely infuriating!" Smack! The sound of the slap echoed through the room. The middle-aged woman made no effort to hide her frustration. The woman continued to rant as she threw a thick wad of cash at Jason's face. The handsome twenty-year-old sat in the middle of the bed, completely naked. The money struck his face before scattering across the mattress. However, Jason showed no meaningful reaction. Despite being hit in the face with a wad of cash, Jason didn't even flinch. He remained silent, his expression stiff and utterly blank, like a dried buffalo hide. His eyes were empty, as though all the insults coming from the woman's mouth had become part of his everyday life. Jason had started working as a gigolo at that nightclub when he was only seventeen. Every night, he was expected to satisfy lonely married women. Some of them were nearly twice his age. Three years was no short time to spend living a life he had never wanted. Every night, Jason had to swallow his disgust and bury his feelings just to survive. There was a reason Jason had ended up at that club, selling his body night after night. It wasn't because he wanted to be there, but because of his father and stepmother. The two people who were supposed to protect him had instead become the source of his suffering. Ever since he was a child, Jason had been abused and forced to satisfy his own stepmother's lust. Then, when he grew older, he was thrown away and sold to the club as a s*x slave. From that moment on, his life no longer seemed to belong to him. He had no freedom to decide what he wanted to do, not even the right to refuse something he didn't want. "Hey, you useless gigolo! You know what? I regret booking you tonight! Your damn thing hadn't even been inside me for five minutes before you came. You pathetic piece of trash!" the middle-aged woman cursed again. The woman apparently wasn't satisfied with venting her frustration. She continued to rant without paying any attention to Jason's increasingly unreadable expression. This time, she climbed down from the bed and picked up her dress and underwear scattered across the floor. Still grumbling, the middle-aged woman put her clothes back on. Her face was filled with irritation because her desires hadn't been fully satisfied, all because Jason hadn't served her wholeheartedly. Every now and then, she glanced at Jason with a contemptuous look. To her, the young man was nothing more than a servant who had been paid to fulfill her desires. Jason sat on the bed, completely naked, and stared silently at the woman. Both his hands were clenched tightly on his thighs, while his eyes remained fixed on her with a sharp gaze. Something inside his eyes was slowly changing. The disgust he had kept buried for so long was becoming increasingly difficult to contain, making his fingers press harder against his thighs. He was sick of it all, utterly sick of the life he had been forced to live as a gigolo. He was controlled, abused, and forced to do everything he hated. He had endured everything alone for far too long. No one had ever asked whether he was all right or whether he could still bear living such a life. "After this, I'm never coming back here again. Hmph... my money has gone to waste because of a stupid gigolo like you!" The woman grabbed her handbag and let out an irritated sigh. She had no idea that the young man sitting silently behind her was struggling to contain his mounting rage. Even after being called a stupid gigolo, Jason remained silent. His expression grew even colder. His jaw tightened, causing his teeth to grind together with a fairly loud, grating sound. Jason lowered his head for a moment, trying to control his emotions. However, the harder he tried to hold himself back, the stronger his desire to put an end to all his suffering became. "I can't take this anymore. I really can't. No matter what it takes, I have to get out of this place, even if it costs me my life," Jason said inwardly. His hands clenched even tighter until his knuckles turned white and the veins on his hands stood out. For the first time in a long while, Jason began thinking about how to fight back for real. He knew his decision could have serious consequences, but he no longer wanted to live like a slave. After three years of being trapped in a brothel, Jason had finally reached his breaking point. His patience had run out, and his heart felt utterly exhausted. Throughout those three years, he had never truly experienced freedom. His days were filled with coercion, while his hope of escaping the place gradually faded. All he could think about now was how to escape, even if he had to risk his life to do so. Jason glanced briefly at the bedroom door. However, before he could think of his next move, his gaze shifted to the small table beside the bed. Next, the twenty-year-old reached for his jeans and T-shirt at the foot of the bed. He put them on slowly, paying no attention to the middle-aged woman who continued to curse at him. He tried to remain calm even as his heart began to race. He moved carefully, making sure the woman wouldn't notice the change in his behavior. After putting on his jeans and T-shirt, Jason moved toward the bedside table. He picked up the fruit knife lying there, keeping his eyes warily fixed on the woman. His fingers tightened around the knife's handle. For a moment, he stood still, as though trying to convince himself that he was truly about to do something he had never dared to do before. Jason's heart suddenly began pounding furiously. His breathing grew ragged, and his chest rose and fell erratically. He gripped the fruit knife tightly in his hand. Cold sweat began to dampen his palms. Even so, Jason refused to let go of the knife. Gulp! Jason swallowed with difficulty. His eyes remained fixed on the woman standing in front of him, facing the door as she adjusted her appearance. The woman was still busy fixing her clothes. She had no idea that Jason was now standing behind her with a knife in his hand. "This filthy woman has to die right now," Jason said in a restrained voice. Jason's breathing grew heavier. He knew he had reached the limits of his endurance, and this time, he refused to remain the one who suffered in silence. He climbed down from the bed and approached the completely unsuspecting middle-aged woman. Then, he lunged at her like a wrestler, sending both of them tumbling across the cold floor. "Argh... what the hell are you doing, you bastard gigolo?!" The woman screamed in shock. The handbag she had been holding slipped from her grasp and hit the floor as she struggled to free herself from Jason's grip. "Go to hell, you filthy b***h!"