HER'S TO TAKE

0010

FREYA

I leaned back in pretense.

I wasn’t particularly shocked to see him react the way he just did, because I knew he would react just that way, but he wouldn’t be as bad and abusive as Jaxton whom I left his place.

He folded his arms, giving me a clear picture of what would be going on in his mind.

“You are supposed to be taking shower in the bath, or naked on my bed, awaiting the night’s justice.”

I hated the way he uttered those words, but I knew he was right. I was ferried to his place from the roadside, not to pick his clothes and mask my body with it, but to get banged by him.

That’s the way most men pass their nights after a stressful day, and he is just one of such men, but I had just got his night a bit messed.

I’m just another sort of a flop, but I had not done what I had in mind, which is far worse than merely putting on his clothes as though I bought them for him.

“I know but…”

“But no buts, woman, this is not what we came for.” He raised his fingers at me. “I didn’t ask you to test how good my clothes would be on you.”

Wait, does this mother fucker think I’m a model on a night stroll for a pay at the roadside?

Goddamn!

No one thinks good of me, not even my father.

I swallowed my words. They were of no use here, because he wasn’t even ready to hear me speak my piece.

“Get those clothes off and join me in the bathroom.”

That was an order, not a mere coining of words to create a statement. It was a straight, clean and clear order, but they weren’t Jaxton’s.

They were that of a man I could tell is as vulnerable as those in his class in the streets. He is not as dangerous and powerful as the devil I had been with.

He is a lesser devil, but I guess he is not ready to figure out the fact that he is a lesser devil. He thinks he is on top of the word, and I’m duty bound to obey his words.

He motioned towards the bathroom, tugging at his belt. He was dead ready to have his cake served the in the bathroom with no stories attached.

“Wait.” I said, still contemplating how those words would flow through my lips.

He paused and turned to me with a stressed look on his face. He wasn’t ready for the drama I was currently staging up, but I had to push on.

I’m no damn harlot, so, he shouldn’t see me as one, but what do I tell him I am if not the harlot he thinks I am?

I’m just an i***t on the run, that’s it. He should know of course that such thing as people fleeing from their mafia captors is quite common here.

“I…”

“I don’t care what you got to say, you…”

“I’m not a harlot.”

“But you were dressed like one and you were fucken standing by the roadside. You are a fucken harlot.”

“I’m not!”

I had to shout because his voice was towering over mine. He isn’t ready to hear me talk my piece, so, I had to force it in and make it clear to him that I’m not the fucken harlot he thinks I am.

So, he shouldn’t treat me like one. At least, he should go fair with me if we are doing stuff tonight, not rough, like he would do to a harlot he would pay.

“What then are you if not a harlot? A spy?” he raised his eyebrows, demanding an answer.

I shrank into myself.

His words were harsh enough to push me back to my shell. I am neither a harlot, nor a spy, but why the heck is it that people don’t see the good girl in me.

They always think bad of me.

“I’m not a spy.” I managed to find my voice after swallowing a couple of times, but I was careful not to utter Jaxton’s name.

He seemed to be a mafia, too. I suspected it earlier, and now it is getting clear. If he is not one of them, he wouldn’t think of the word spy.

“What then is a lady clad in that sort of a tight short gown and boots called? Stripper? All the damn strippers I know suck d**k behind the scene.” He came loud on me.

That’s him being a disappointed man. If not, he wouldn’t get so loud and enraged.

“I just want you to know that I’m not a harlot, though I was dressed like one, so, maybe you should go easy on me tonight, don’t treat me like a damn harlot. I’m not your harlot.”

I was ready to give in, because he wasn’t ready to quit tossing me into suckling his d**k and letting him glide into me from behind in the bathroom.

I like it from behind though, but I had only taken just one d**k; Jaxton’s d**k, and it’s damn good.

I don’t want any other d**k but his, but the least thing I want was to remain in his crib, because I hate the feeling my father’s words in that message pops up in me each time, I remember them.

“So, what do we do, are you giving me your hole, or would you call the police on me?” he posed with his hands spread.

A thud at the door broke his words.

He scampered to his bed drawer and fetched his gun out of it. It wasn’t the pistol I used to see. It was a close ranged riffle bigger than the regular pistol I knew.

“Stay here, don’t move.” He said and scurried into the big room.

I ran into the bathroom and hid behind the bathtub. Who knows if Jaxton’s men came for me.

I heard the sound of gun fight, but it subsided after I heard a few screams, including his.