Just Curious Ch. 07

Just about when the soreness is becoming painful, my arms are suddenly lowered so I can stand on flat-feet. I look up to see what's different. Elliot comes over and rubs my bare shoulders, asking if they're OK. I nod my head yes. Elliot takes my chin and shakes it gently. "You will not talk to customers, but you will answer me when I ask you something." His eyes are locked onto mine.

"Yes sir. My arms are sore, but they're OK. Thank you for lowering me."

"Much better. It's only temporary; you'll be up again in a little bit." He returns to the podium. About ten minutes later I'm raised back up onto my toes again. Men come and go down the hall. Time passes slowly. I'm lowered for some relief, then raised up again.

Suddenly there is a young man stumbling down the hall. "Holy fuck. Why don't I have art like that hanging in my house? Gonna enjoy that cunt today." He's obviously drunk from the slurring of his words and inability to walk in a straight line.

There is nowhere for me to go. I can only watch him getting closer. He is about 5 feet away from me, reaching toward my breasts. Elliot swoops in just as the drunk man crosses the archway into the foyer and slams him into the wall. "Fuck dude. I just want to use that whore. I got money."

Elliot tells him I'm not for sale, but his three buddies are closing in, and they aren't happy about Elliot grabbing their friend. All four guys are arguing with Elliot, it only takes a few seconds for all hell to break lose. One of the buddies moves aggressively toward Elliot, as the drunk grabs for his face. Elliot doesn't blink. The drunk gets pinned to the wall when Elliot grabs him by the throat, closing off his air supply.

The click of the gun echoes loudly in all the chaos. Everyone stops. The man Elliot has pinned to the wall is sobering up quickly. The three buddies, staring down the barrel of a large caliber handgun, are frozen in place. I notice more men in suits appearing, one from a doorway under the staircase, and two more move up silently behind the three buddies. Everything stops.

Elliot is the first to speak. "She is not for sale. Period." The drunk pinned to the wall is starting to gasp, his face turning red from lack of oxygen. Elliot gives him one breath, then squeezes his neck again. All eyes, except Elliot's, suddenly look toward the back of the building. I turn to see an incredibly pissed off Marcus coming out his office. His jacket is off and his white shirt is rolled up at his sleeves. He looks bigger than usual, muscles everywhere. Elliot clicks something on the gun and slips it behind his back. Marcus is stalking toward the men. They try to back up, but hit the two employees who surrounded them without their knowing.

Marcus towers over everyone. "What's the problem here?" Shit, remind me not to piss Marcus off. Even I'm scared of him right now, and he's not even focused on me.

Indicating the drunk, Elliot replies: "This one here wanted your girl, boss."

"Really?" The slow lazy way it rolls off his tongue causes the drunk to start trembling. Elliot releases him and steps back. The drunk is trying to push himself through the wall at his back. Anything to get away from Marcus.

"You think you can please her more than me?" Marcus is right in front of him, staring down at him.

"No! No sir." More stuttering and slurring. He's craning his neck, trying to look up at Marcus.

"Oh, so then you want to try to forcibly take her away from me? We can go outside if you want to try your luck."

The drunk looks to his buddies, they're all wide-eyed and completely useless to the drunk. "No sir. Please. I didn't mean anything by it. This is a brothel, and she's gorgeous, I just assumed she was available. I didn't know she was yours. Honest. I didn't mean to offend you, sir."

Holy crap! Everyone does call him 'sir'. Marcus waves his hand, and the three other bodyguard/bouncers move in. "Escort them out quietly."

As the four men are shuffled down the hall and out of my sight, Marcus suddenly turns and looks at me. He still looks pissed as he reaches out for my face. I try to pull away as he takes my chin and looks me over. He doesn't say anything, just examines me. "Elliot, take care of her. Why the hell is Sharon serving drunks like that? Why wasn't anyone on them when they walked in the door?" Marcus turns and storms to the front.

Elliot exhales slowly. He looks toward me and lifts his eyebrows. "He's in a mood now. Be extra good the next few hours, OK? Don't give him any reason to get angry." He brings over an antique chair and lowers my arms and uncuffs them, offering me a seat. A bottle of water is handed to me. Marcus storms back in. He looks at me sitting on the chair and I freeze, remembering Elliot's warning.

Marcus and Elliot discuss the incident. From what I can overhear, the guys just walked in. One of them had been here a few times before, they'll show pictures to someone named Gin when she comes in to work tonight; apparently she remembers everyone's name and face. They'll flag that guy and have a sit down chat with him if he ever comes back in. The bartender Sharon did not serve drinks to them, so she's not in trouble. The guys just walked in less than two minutes before the incident started, no one had any warning or opportunity to react. Marcus glowers at me again before storming into his office.

Elliot exhales again. "He's not a happy man. No one did anything wrong that he can blame." He looks down at me. "You OK?"

I nod my head. "Yes sir. He didn't touch me, but it was a scary thing to experience. Do you always carry a gun?"

Elliot grins. "Occupational requirement. Marcus said to keep you safe, and I might have gone a bit overboard. But I really didn't want that" he jerks his head toward Marcus's door "chomping down on my ass today."

"Is he really angry? Or are you just trying to frighten me?"

Elliot thinks about this before answering. "The situation wasn't too bad. They were harmless kids for the most part, and there were enough good people around to contain it. This is more of an image thing. It would have looked real bad if HIS girl got assaulted in HIS brothel just outside HIS office. It would have put into question his strength and ability to control his business interests."

"Really? All that was riding on those few minutes of confusion?"

He nods his head. "This is Vegas. Reputation is everything. You ready to go back up again?" He indicates the chains. I nod my head yes. He glowers at me before I remember to speak. "Yes, sir. I'm ready to go back up."

I stand and raise my wrist for him, as he's going to clip the chains on, I stop him. I feel I need to see Marcus. I don't know why, it's just a gut feeling, but my gut has been guiding me for most of this adventure. "Can I see him first? Please."

Elliot considers my request. Apparently my visiting Marcus during work was not covered before. He nods his head, and steps back, giving me space to step off the platform. I step down and on shaky legs walk toward the door to Marcus's office. I take one last look back at Elliot before stepping inside.

He doesn't notice me at first, his back is slightly turned away and he's growling at someone on the phone. I take another tentative step forward, and another. He turns and glowers at me. "What?"

I stop, transfixed by his glare. I didn't expect him to direct his anger at me. Again my gut decides my actions for me. Pleasure and pain are best when together. Anger is similar to pain; maybe pleasure will neutralize that as well.

I easily, with a confidence I don't feel inside, reach behind me to untie the knot of my halter top. I let the fabric slide over my shoulders, fluttering down as my breasts are revealed. I take another few steps toward the large desk. About half way there, I slip my thumbs into the red fabric around my waist. I ease the material gently over my hips, letting the dress drop to the floor and pool around my feet.

I stand there exposed. Marcus has stopped speaking, and rather rudely hangs up on whoever he was talking with. I continue toward him, he pivots his chair as he follows my motion, until I'm standing in front of this man. I stand there for what seems like forever. Marcus drinks in my nude body. I see the change in his eyes; the hardness is slowly being replaced with lust. Pain and pleasure.

I remember what Elliot told me, and use that to sooth him. "I am safe. No harm came to me. No one touched what is yours." I lean over, eyes never leaving his, and starting releasing his cock. Pleasure and pain.

"No one doubts your strength. No one dare question your power." Finally I work him free, my hand wraps around the pliant tool between his legs. I'm eager to feel the steel start to form in my hand. Finally his hands are on me, squeezing my waist, gently rocking me back and forth. His eyes watch my breasts as they sway back and forth beneath me. A low growl leaves his parted lips. "What do you think you're doing, my little minx?"

I lean in slowly and kiss him before answering. "You taught me pleasure goes with pain. Your anger is pain. It's your right to take your pleasure now." His cock is twitching in my hand. I gently climb on top him. My legs hanging over the sides of the office chair. Arching my back, I slide his member between the moist folds covering my sex. "Please, Marcus. Take your pleasure from me. Use me. It's your right to have me. No one questions that. Please, Marcus. Use me."

With one hand twisting in my hair and the other arm wrapped around my waist, he prods until he finds my opening. Without warning he slams himself inside me. His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me down. He pulls my head back, exposing my neck. I love when he controls me. His mouth finds my neck. His cock is filling me up deliciously. I know deliciously is a weird adjective, but I've been craving his cock in me. Always needing more.

Once he gets a good rhythm, he pulls my body against his. The soft material of his shirt caressing my naked chest. Suddenly he stands up and slams me down against the top of the desk. He hooks an elbow behind my knee and pulls up one of my legs. My core opens allowing him to thrust deeper in me. My back arches up off the desk, and he slams into me again and again. His hand wraps around my throat as he starts swearing. My core erupts and my voice screams at the explosion. I feel Marcus blasting me full of cum before collapsing on top me. I keep forgetting how heavy he is.

I lay there quietly, letting him recover. His cock eventually slipping out of me. He heaves himself up and just stares down at me, not saying anything for the longest time. He puts his hand back on my throat and forces my head up so I can't see him. He lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers softly. "You have no idea how much I would love to hurt you right now. To see how much you could endure. I know how hard I could make you cum." I don't dare respond as a tremble flows through me and my pussy starts to tingle. Fuck, how can he do that to me with just words?

He licks me from collarbone to the corner of my eye. It is the most possessive thing I have ever felt. "You taste so good when you've been well-fucked."

He stands and pulls me off the table and into his arms. He kneads my sore ass and his mouth descends on mine. I let him take whatever he wants. Whatever he needs.

"ELLIOT!" He separates from me and waits for Elliot to show up in the doorway. Crap. The door was open this whole time.

"Yes sir?" I suppose seeing a naked woman is an everyday occurrence if you work in a brothel, but I still try to shield myself with Marcus's body.

"Hang her back up." He looks down at me and thanks me, then gently pushes me in Elliot's direction. Elliot is picking up the red dress off the floor. I cover myself as Elliot brings me my clothes. "Arms down, girl." Crap. I lower my arms as Elliot gets a good long look at me. He tells me to raise my arms as he slips the dress over my head and ties the halter behind my neck.

I'm all sticky between my legs. "Can I use the bathroom first?"

Marcus looks back at me. "Do you have to go?"

"No, but I'd like to clean up." Elliot is adjusting the dress so it sits better.

"Elliot, did that sound like begging to you?"

"No, sir. I did not hear any form of begging in there at all."

"Me neither, so the answer is 'No'. Get your butt out of my office." The anger from earlier is replaced by playfulness, and at the moment I'm not sure I prefer it.

Elliot is right there and I mouth the word 'traitor' at him. He does his best to suppress the laughter as he leads me out of the office. He has me step up on the platform again and clips my cuffs to the chains. "I have never seen anyone handle Marcus that way. You are extraordinary." I can feel my face turning beet red. Was he watching, or did he just overhear us? He kisses my forehead before clicking the button to lift me back up to my toes. He taps his finger against my nose. "And by-the-way, I love the shade of red your ass is sporting today." I fume and try to kick him, but he jumps out the way, as we both start laughing. Dork.

His seriousness returns. "Are you OK?"

"Yes sir. Some bits hurt more than others, but all-in-all, I think I'll be OK." He nods his head and returns to the podium. The rest of the morning goes by slowly. I'm lowered to relieve the pressure on my wrists and shoulders, then lifted back up. Men come and go through the foyer. Elliot is polite and professional the entire time. I keep my eyes down and bide my time.

Hanging there, focusing on nothing, I find my Zen place. Can't go anywhere. Can't do anything. Just hangin' around. I smile at my own stupid pun. Then something catches my attention. A sound. It's a mixture of familiar and out of place. There's a shuffling sound and a rasping, wheezing type noise. I was just going to take a quick peek and hope Elliot doesn't notice.

My quick glance becomes a full on stare. The man struggling down the hall is ancient. His head is bald with those wispy stray hairs everywhere. He's got age spots, hearing aids, and he's wrinkly. He stops in front of me and looks me up and down. I watch, shocked, as he sets his false teeth. He's holding a woman's picture. OMG! He's going to make someone sleep with him. That is so disgusting.

I watch transfixed as he waddles his way to the podium and hands Elliot the picture, pays, and then another man helps him to an elevator hidden in the wall. I don't realize the trouble I'm in till the elevator door slides closed, and I look around the room. Elliot's gaze is fixed on me as he leaves the podium and stalks over to me.

"You were repeatedly warned about watching the clients? One simple little rule, that you can't seem to grasp. Hopefully a punishment will help you remember." He slides open a panel in the wall and takes out a crop. It's about two feet long, with a braided leather handle. What catches my attention is the two square strips of leather on the end; they have a metal Celtic design worked into the leather. That's going to leave a mark. Elliot lets me get a good look at the crop before sliding it down my body, from my neck to my knee. "Yes, I think this is just what's needed to help you remember the rules of the house."

He clicks the button and raises me until my feet can no longer touch the podium. He spins me around so I'm facing the wall that was behind me. My dress is lifted and tucked in, exposing my ass. Elliot spends a few moments caressing my already red ass. He slides the crop across the sensitive flesh causing me to tremble.

His phone rings and he answers it, I still feel the hard leather teasing my ass as he talks.

"Yes, sir."

Silence as he listens to the caller. "Are you serious? Why?"

He stills as he listens. The crop has abandoned its exploration of my ass. I hear the voices of men coming down the hall. I can't twist to see them, but I hear two distinct voices. He hangs up the phone with a huff. "Fuck." He opens the panel and puts the crop back. "Looks like we're doing this old school. Don't hurt my hand." Like that'd be my fault.

The voices have stopped, but I can feel them gawking at us. The first spank I wasn't prepared for. A short sharp gasp escapes my mouth as my body swings helplessly. Elliot directs his next comment to the men watching. "Good morning, gentlemen. Would you mind waiting for a minute or two? This one has earned some punishment."

The men answer with New York accents. "Not a problem at all. It's good to see poor behavior corrected properly."

The other man gives out a short sharp laugh. "Looks like someone had a fun morning." I don't get the joke until I remember Marcus fucked me about an hour ago. I have his cum drying between my legs. I feel about two inches tall right now. Punished by another stranger and two other men standing there watching it, mocking me.

The slaps on my ass are slow and rhythmic. Four slaps, then he rubs my ass, two slaps and he lets me swing for a while. "Why are you being punished this morning, girl?

"I was watching the clients after being told not to. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

He punishes me like this a total of four times. My ass was already sore from getting paddled by Marcus. Even though this isn't as hard as last night, my body is trembling uncontrollably when he finally finishes. The two men are still commenting.

It's hard to breathe hanging from my wrists. I try to control that, because it's all I have right now. Everything else is out of my control. As soon as I realize he's done, I take some long slow breathes, trying to calm myself. NO! No no nono no. "No, please." Elliot slips a finger between my dangling legs. He slips into my pussy easily.

"Shhh, girl. You know how this works. Your pain is our pleasure. Your pleasure is also our pleasure. "

One of the watchers pipes up, trying to calm me. "Just relax and enjoy. You're doing just fine." No no no no I don't have much energy, but I try to struggle, at least try to get that finger out of me. Elliot's phone rings again. He answers with his finger still curling inside me.

"Yeah, Boss?" Quiet as he listens to Marcus. "Right away, sir." He slips the phone in his pocket and pulls out a BlueTooth and puts it on my ear.

Marcus's voice fills my ears. "Be a good girl. Calm down for me."

"Please, I can't take anymore. Please." I can feel my orgasm building. I keep struggling. I'm panting again, calm and control is a distant memory.

The disembodied voice draws my attention away from my traitorous body. "Let Elliot use you. He's in charge of you today. He's watching over you and protecting you for me. Be good for me." My body goes limp. I'm not sure if it's to please Marcus, or because I've exhausted all my energy. The finger has found my G-spot and is working it mercilessly. Elliot is praising me in one ear; Marcus is calming me in the other. The two observers are thankfully silent as my torture continues.

My core is starting to clench down on the finger, my body quivering helplessly. "All the way, boss?"

"Yeah, I want to see her dance." His voice doesn't come from the earpiece, but from somewhere behind me. Elliot's finger drives me to my completion. My body explodes. Hanging from the chains, it tries to curl into a ball, but I don't have the strength anymore. It straightens out and my back arches as waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm me. I hang there, twitching, until the world comes back into focus. There is nothing left to give.

I'm lowered down, but my legs can't support me. Two sets of hands release me, and I'm carried into Marcus's office and laid out on top the large desk. Elliot fixes my dress as best he can. He leans in and kisses my eyes, my nose and my mouth. "Thank you, sweet girl. You were so beautiful today. Thank you." I mumble, still not fully coherent yet. Sleep takes me.