Prim, Savage, and Anonymous

Sigh...I'm hopeless...but this idea had been in formulation for many years in many variation so yah. Next in the lineup is Gilded in Gold 9-10, then The Dark in Your Blue Eyes, By Night, My Love, and then Stone Cold Steele. Since this is a new idea the continuation depends on how much you guys like it so comment and rate and let me know. And i promise this is the last of my new ideas until I have one of my regular series finished first (i. e. the ones mentioned above). Edited by the wonderful Wanting2bdesired who gave me the idea for the title.

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Chapter One

Four-year-olds were a rambunctious, savage lot. Or that was the conclusion now firmly entrenched into Constantine Selvaggio after having spent the entire weekend with his nephew. His recently divorced sister had come to America towing her son and promptly informed him that he was to act as a father figure. Being the younger twin, therefore already familiar with Constanza's methods of torture, Constantine had given in grudgingly, if not gracefully.

He barely knew anything about children, aside from his own formative years, but these days he was lucky to remember the night before. He hadn't been to his apartment for the past week and just this morning he had found himself beside a stranger, a woman, thankfully. Then Constanza had called him to come pick Zach up to take him to his school's fair where she would pick him at two. That had been three hours ago and the kid's fair was still in full swing. Constantine had spent the last half hour in a smelly, sweaty moon bounce trying to avoid getting trampled on by little dirty feet and sticky little hands.

"Uncle Connie!" Zach yelled out and jumped right on top of Constantine, bringing him flailing down onto the sticky plastic. He groaned and slowly pushed up on his elbows, wincing more from nickname "Connie" than the impact.

"Oi!" Constantine yelled and rolled over, bringing the young imp under him and began a tickle fight to the death, an evil grin marring his features. Zach howled in laughter and shot out kicks at him, which Constantine easily defected.

"Uncle, uncle," Zach finally yielded.

"Uh uh, what's the magic word?" Constantine taunted, smirking down at Zach's red face.

Letting out a great gust of air, the boy finally said "Uncle Constantine."

Constantine nodded and let his nephew up, the boy glaring up at him the whole way.

"Not cool man." Zach pouted as he got out of the moon bounce. Sending up a prayer to god that Zach finally got tired, Constantine immediately followed. Zach waited for him outside, his foot tapping impatiently.

"C'mon, Con, let's go to the rainbow ball pool!" Zach exclaimed when he say one of his friends run by heading for the small pool where thousands of colorful balls. Without waiting for Constantine's assent, Zach went after his friend and Constantine could hear both of the boy's screeching as they jumped into the pool.

He was going to kill his sister if he actually survived this evening. Taking out his phone, he saw that he had a missed call from his uncle, but it was from his uncle's business phone. Curious, he pressed on the voicemail icon and was just about to read the speech to text feature of the voicemail when a shoulder knocked into him.

"Hey, I thought you were supposed to look at my kid, not your phone," Constanza chided, but she didn't look angry.

Constantine snorted. "That thing you call your kid is a menace."

She grinned proudly and nodded her head. "I've taught him well."

"So what the hell took you so long?" Constantine asked as he checked his phone again, quickly reading the message.

"Sorry, my shift got extended but I made some killer tips. This one guy gave me a hundred dollar tip...you're not listening to me are you?"

Constantine absently nodded his head as he texted a reply back at his uncle. "You wore a low cut dress and in awe of your assets, a poor sap paid you a hundred."

Huffing, Constanza pushed at her twin. Of course that was exactly what had happened but the way Constantine said it...that just rankled. And Constantine smirked because he'd worded it like that just to pay her back for sticking him with her kid for longer than five minutes. He'd learned today that he was not cut out for being a father figure, being any kind of figure at all.

"Was that Uncle Sergio?"

Constantine nodded just as he got a message from his uncle texting him the time and requirements of his newest assignment. He raised an eyebrow at the last part and wondered what kind of client he'd be dealing with tonight.

Looking over Constantine's head, Constanza read the message and frowned. "Boxers and blindfolds? Constantine, you know mother is not going to like this."

"Mother does not need to know."

Constanza sighed in exasperation and shook her head. "Why can't you get a normal job at a Starbucks or Abercrombie and Fitch or something? You've certainly got the body and the lack of brains for it."

Constantine chuckled, pitting his phone back into his pocket. "I don't need brains for this job either. Plus it pays a hell of a lot more and I happen to love driving my Audi."

"Pfft, yah but in the other jobs you wouldn't be sticking your dick into strange women," she protested.

Constantine cocked a brow. "I worked at A&F. What makes you think I didn't use my dick?"

"You're disgusting."

"You brought up my dick."

Constanza grimaced and pouted. "Let's stop talking about your dick."

"Deal. I've got to go now, I need to make my appointment." Constantine was already taking out his keys as he took a few steps towards where he'd parked his car.

"Have fun, or whatever. I'll tell Zach he scared you off."

Constantine waved goodbye and checked his Rolex. The very expensive Rolex one of his regular clients had given to him as a gift. He'd found that he was just not cut out to work a nine to five job and he was just plain, damn lazy. He was already having sex like a maniac before his uncle had come along and offered him a safer alternative. One that actually offered him money over the occasional free lodging he'd get from his hookups. But since the business was in the family, at least on his uncle's side, Constantine's whole family knew what he did. And they did not approve.

His very traditional minded mother thought Sergio was the very devil and that he was trying to entice Constantine into being one of his disciples. Constanza disapproved as well but she knew better than to throw bible hell fire on him anytime he came within five feet. She'd seen how strained the relationship with Constantine and his mother was. She knew she couldn't change her brother's mind. Constantine's father had stopped talking to him altogether, fearing that his son's taint would touch on his new and perfect little minivan driving family.

Constantine snorted as he got into his car and revved up the engine, the purr of the engine soothing his nerves. It shouldn't matter what his family thought of him, it was his life and he was going to live it as he saw fit. He'd be proud of the mistakes he made because he made them.

Shaking the morbid thoughts out of his head, he screeched into LA traffic, ignoring the angry honks aimed his way. He hurried towards his luxury apartment, uncaring of the speed limits and focused his mind of his new client. Being the nephew of Anonymous's CEO had its perks. Usually his uncle would take a forty percent cut as the finder of the client and for providing the environment where the interaction would take place. But for Constantine, Sergio had made an exception. He only took ten percent out of Constantine's cut and so for one night's work he'd be getting enough to pay off the new tablet he'd bought and then some more.

Life was good, life was perfect. It was a mantra he told himself as he finally reached his apartment and got ready for tonight.

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Primrose Dayan ran both hands from her temples into her hair, wondering for the hundredth time if she was really doing this. Was she really going to pay for sex?

The confirmation email in front of her said so. That and the sizeable chunk out of her bank account that was nonrefundable said yes she was. They queue on her YouTube list showed the many documentaries she'd watched about women that paid for sex with men and things to do and what not to do. The one prevalent rule seemed to be don't fall in love or form any kind of emotional attachment.

Fisting her hands in her hair, she pulled until she was a few inches away from snatching herself bald. Gradually relaxing her hand, she massaged the sore spot.

She couldn't do this. Screw the money; she was not humiliating herself like this. This was the worst idea she'd ever had and she was stupid and idiot...

And a godfucking damn virgin at thirty.

Now that was humiliating. Growing up through puberty, she'd never given a damn to her virgin status. She'd just known that she'd only want to have sex with a man she loved. And that ship had sailed about a month ago when her friend had married the man that Prim thought fate had chosen for her. After having to make a funny but touching toast to the happy couple, she'd barricaded herself in the hotel bathroom and cried her eyes out. The next day she'd taken the day off work to do research into paid male lovers. After a few weeks of searching, her very close friend Samantha had directed her to a very exclusive sex club that catered to a more specific clientele. They'd come highly recommended and the security procedures that they had in place had decided for her.

So here she sat in front of her laptop freaking out. Letting out a frustrated scream, she violently shut the lid. But that just allowed her to see the pink lace teddy and cage back open panel panties she'd ordered from Fredericks of Hollywood. The panties were pretty bits of pink and peach lace in the front and in the back; it was just a bunch of lines connected to a pretty pink bow at the top. It was as impractical as it was sexy.

Running a finger over the delicate, easily rip-able lace, Prim squeezed her eyes and nodded to no one and nothing in particular. It was just her physical way of accepting what was going to happen to her tonight. And tonight she was finally going to get her birthday wish.

She jumped when her cell phone rang and hurried over to her android. It was from an unknown caller and she just knew it was from Anonymous, the club she'd contacted for their services.

"Hello?" Prim gathered some spit and swallowed it down her suddenly parched throat.

"Ms. Devon?" the robotic voice form the other end asked.

Prim had chosen to use Devon as a name, just Devon. The payments had been made in cash and the only thing the company had of hers was her email and her phone number.

"That's, this is her, I mean she," Prim stumbled on her answer.

"This phone call was just to reaffirm your appointment tonight at ten."

Appointment. So professional. So bland. "Yes."

"Great. I assume you've read the contract and code of conduct sent to you on the confirmation email?"

She'd read it twice, then skimmed over it again just for good measure. She'd signed the contract that said she'd agree to the terms and read the conditions and sent them off a few days ago.

"Yes."

"Your preferences for the evening are still as you outlined?"

Prim nodded, and then realized that the women on the other end couldn't see. "Yes." Good heavens, did she not know any other word?

"Wonderful. Just leave your name at the front desk when you arrive at the club and you will be shown to your secured room. An opaque mask will be provided as per your request and you will be given four hours from ten o'clock with our employee. If he or you should choose to spend the night in the room, you may do so at no additional charge up until ten o'clock the following morning. That is acceptable, yes?"

This had already been explained to her at the initial meeting when she'd been informed of the prices and hours, then again at the signing. "Yes."

"We look forward to doing business with you this evening and if you have any questions prior to the rendezvous, please give us a call at the number provided to you in the email. Thank you for your business and have a nice day."

"Oh, okay. Yes, thanks, you too. Bye." Prim tapped the phone off.

Well, that was it. She was doing it. She glanced at across at her living room clock and gasped at the time. She had a phone and a watch on her at all times but she always preferred looking at the large black clock with gold accents that she'd picked up at a garage sale. The time was a bit hard to read but she loved how pretty it looked. But right now it was saying she only had four hours to get herself ready. That meant showering, shaving, straightening her hair, putting on sex proof makeup and calming down her erratic nerves.

Yah, like that was going to be easy.

Opening her bedroom, she headed straight for her bathtub. Shedding all her clothes, she took her razor and shaved every inch of her legs, then did it again just to make sure. Her underarms and her private area were next. She even took out a hand mirror to help her with the later, cursing physiology for giving women hair where it was most certainly unwanted. Then she hurriedly shampooed and showered, grateful she hadn't nicked herself anywhere other than her knees.

That alone took up an hour. And because of her frazzled nerves, straightening her slightly damp hair was an almost impossible task. She had a few burn marks from her straighteners and her hair was still wavy. To heck with it, she'd just leave her hair loose and let the impossible curls win. After she'd done her makeup to her satisfaction, she checked the clock again and saw she only had a few minutes to choose an outfit.

It shouldn't matter since the man she'd been meeting would have a blindfold on as would she but for some reason she wanted to dress up as if this were a date. Call her crazy, sentimental...mostly crazy, but she wanted to make this seem as normal as possible. She finally settled on a tight black dress that slithered against her skin sinuously. She spent precious minutes she did not have looking herself over the mirror, taking deep breaths and chanting 'I can do this, I will do this, I am doing this' over and over again.

She'd made the situation as bearable as she could by requesting that both parties involved wear masks. Letting go of decade-long convictions were hard so this was all about making her fantasies come true. She'd had years of dreaming up many, many sex scenes and she just wanted the faceless entity that always took her breath away in her dreams. If it was possible to hire a lifelike robot, she would have but science was being too damn slow.

Hence the mask and the anonymity. She didn't want to see his face and he wouldn't see hers. When she'd told the woman of her preferences, the woman had assured her that it was no problem. Prim had been assured that the man she'd been paired with would have no problem performing any acts she desired blind. That preserved the whole dreamlike quality she was going for and would finally let her let go of her lonely ideals.

Digging deep into her dwindling reserve of courage, Prim forced herself out of her bedroom door. She ignored every cell screaming at her to stay home, to play it safe. It was almost like she was in a trance as she put a few necessities in her purse and headed out of her small bungalow apartment. On the way out, she caught a glimpse of baby pink out of the corner of her eye. Deciding she didn't need it, she bypassed the table and took out a cold bottle of water from her fridge.

Before she could take a sip, she felt her phone buzzing. Glancing at the screen she saw Samantha had send her a dick picture and a caption saying insert slot A into tab B.( should it be tab into slot?) Smiling, Prim shot back a text telling her to shut up. Out of all her friends, she'd only told Samantha about tonight since shed been the one to introduce her into the club. She'd also sponsored her for the club so that she could even have a meeting, after which she'd been approved to do business. Instead of turning her away, the exclusivity of the club helped to make her decision.

Samantha sent her a quick good luck and started giving her sex advice. Shaking her head, Prim put her phone on silent and made to leave the apartment. As an afterthought, she grabbed up the lingerie and stuffed it inside her purse as she headed out the door.

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From the outside, one would never guess at the tawdry encounters that took place inside the building. It a large, industry sized brick building with nondescript signs that was easily overlooked. When Prim had first came, she'd gotten lost three times before finally entering the correct building. She knew the inside was lavishly decorated with rich colors gilded in rusted black and gold. As sex clubs went, this was one of the premier ones.

Like a stalker, she sat in her car parked outside looking at the building. She saw a few men and women enter the building, most of them smiling and laughing as they went in. They looked confident and in control.

Happy.

Growling, Prim jerked open her car door and almost lost her balance when she couldn't get footing with her never worn six inch heels. Teetering on the black torture devices, she stumbled towards the entrance where a large bouncer stood guard. Offering her best smile, which she hoped wasn't as sickly as it felt she introduced herself.

"Hello, I'm Pr...Devon."

The tall man nodded and asked, "Your invitational card?"

Fumbling around in her small bag, she blushed madly as she was forced to take out the pink lingerie and dug out the black lacquered card with her invitational number on it. The man didn't blink an eye as he took the card and punched a small hole in the corner before handing it back to her. Holding the door open with a slight tilt of his head, he nodded her inside.

Prim instantly realized how cold it must have been outside as the warm air hit her body with the unpleasant sensation of tiny needling prickling her skin. She should have worn a coat. Rubbing her bare arms with her hands, she followed the sounds down the dimply lit red corridor. She took the time to admire the numerous nude and erotic art displayed on the walls but inherently she knew it was just a stall tactic.

There was a desk at end of the corridor with a beautiful woman manning the desk. She smiled politely at Prim.

"Hello, miss. May I have your name and invitational card?"

Prim blinked at her for a few seconds before gathering enough brain cells to make her body function again. The woman was absolutely stunning. A bit of her courage drained away. The friend that had married the man she'd thought she was in love with was gorgeous too, a lot more than Prim. A few other men and women came in behind her and merely said hello to the woman. Prim guessed they were regulars and the woman knew that they belonged to the club. She handed her card to the woman who took the card and typed something in the computer in front of her.

"Your room has been readied. It is on the second floor on the east wing, number 12. Mr. Savage is already in the room as per your request. Here is your mask," she said with a polite and bland smile as she handed over a dark cloth to Prim. Taking the silky material in hand, she could see it was made of expensive material.

"Uh, thanks. Do I just, uh, go...?"

The woman's smile kind and understanding. "You can head into the club for a drink if you like but since you are only on a visitors pass, you may only look. If not, there is a small sitting room adjoining the bedroom assigned to you so you can take a few moments there in private before you go in to your meeting with Mr. Savage."