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Avery didn’t know you worked at the brothel, not until he’d seen a photo Leighton had shown him of the brothel itself, and he saw you. You were in the background, out of focus, and in clothes he’d never seen you in before, but he still recognized you.
And now that he’s here, at the brothel itself just to confirm whether or not he’d seen correctly, he knows he hadn’t erred.
There you are, dancing on stage for anyone to see. He hadn’t known you were interested in crossdressing (if a corset, a skirt, high heels, and nothing else could be considered crossdressing), but one learns new things every day. Members of the audience are masturbating shamelessly, ogling you—Avery’s doll—like a standard piece of meat at the market. You still manage to dance spectacularly, considering how much semen coats the stage.
But a minute later, you fall to your knees on the edge of it, and lift your arms over your head, making yourself a canvas as another audience member ejaculates and waves of cum splatter your chest and below. There’s a strange haze on your face, an emptiness in your eyes. Avery doubts any one of your admirers here would notice.
Fury pounds through his veins. He looks for the proprietor.
You’re freshly showered when you enter the private room Avery rented out. In different clothes, too. Though the short dress clashes with your angular, masculine frame, he supposes its purpose lies in the ease with which one may push it out of the way if one wants an easy fuck. You have a vacant smile on your face that fades immediately when you recognize who, exactly, has hired you for the rest of the night.
“A-Avery—?”
“Good evening, my little sunshine,” he greets with an entirely fake smile. He doesn’t bother to make himself seem welcoming. “I do find it curious what you’re doing here, exactly.”
He pats the couch cushion next to him. You don’t move to sit.
“I… You…hired me, didn’t you?”
“Ah, you misunderstand.” He laughs darkly. “I don’t mean why you’re here in this room—I meant, ‘why are you here at all?’” Since you won’t take a seat, Avery stands up and slowly strides towards you. “Working this job, dancing for all those degenerates, entering back rooms dressed like a harlot? You didn’t even know who you were expecting to see here—what would have happened if it had been someone much worse than I?”
When he nears you, you step back. Eventually, you bump into the door, knocking it shut, and Avery puts one hand against it just to the side of your head. You stare him in the eye like a deer in headlights.
But even as nervous as you are, Avery detects a lack of focus; your pupils are far too wide for it to be fear, and your face is flushed, not gray. Not only are you whoring yourself out without a care, but you’re drugged up, too. Was this Briar’s suggestion, or your own choice? Avery can only wonder.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trembling.
“That’s not an answer,” he murmurs with a bit of warning in his tone. “Do you know how it makes me feel, seeing you here like this? Are you too good for my money? Do I not pay you enough? Is that it? Because—” He laughs humorlessly. “—the only alternative is that you come here just for the joy of it.”
“N-no, that’s not it.”
“Oh?” Avery cocks his head. “Then enlighten me, boy. What are you doing here?”
You don’t answer. Avery’s blood begins to simmer. Very well, then. If you didn’t want to comply, then he’d at least get what he paid for.
When he backs off, you don’t have the time to relax before he grabs you by the arm and drags you over to the couch. It’s a large thing, plush enough that you don’t feel any pain when he pushes you onto it. He leans over you, still standing, with one hand on the back of the couch, and the other working open his belt and slacks.
“If you want to play it like this, we can just dispense with the dates and the gifts altogether,” he says, almost conversationally. “Instead of wasting both our time, you and I can skip to the end, and I can just take you like a common whore.”
Avery shoves his slacks and underwear down far enough to take out his cock. He’s not fully hard yet, but having you here, at his mercy like this, is getting him on his way. He starts loosely stroking himself as he talks, notes the way your half-afraid and half-desirous gaze flicks between his face and his hand as it moves.
“But if you want me to pay you more than what I already do, it’ll have to be more than a quick fuck in the back of my car. I’ll just take you home instead. How about that, hm?”
He hears you gasp, and your attention fixes on his face. It’s the first time he’s ever mentioned bringing you home before.
“I promise you my bed is more comfortable than anything here.” He smirks. “And rather than dancing for a feral crowd of strangers, hoping for tips, you’ll only have to focus on servicing me.”
At this angle, Avery can see the way your own growing erection tents the front of your dress. It irritates him to see. What is it in reaction to? The idea of him taking you home and fucking you all night? The idea of whoring yourself out, despite what you claimed? Is it whatever filthy drug is in your system?
He can’t even be smug about any of it if he doesn’t know whether or not it was any of his doing. He’s not like the rest of your idiotic customers who would take any drug-induced interest at face value. (Assuming they even care for anything more than base pleasure in the first place.)
“You little slut,” he mutters, brows furrowing. You flinch, and begin to squirm, your attention flicking down to his hand again. He’s nearing full hardness, and pre has started to flow freely from the tip, easing his strokes. “You’re just cock-hungry, aren’t you? Desperate to be fucked, to be covered in cum. It doesn’t matter whose it is, does it?”
“That’s not it—!”
“You’ve lost the privilege to explain yourself,” he interrupts curtly. He lets go of the back of the couch, and buries his hand into your hair, yanking your head back so you have no choice but to look him in the eye. “If you want the chance to earn my forgiveness, you’ll have to earn the money I paid for you first, my little toy.”
He rubs his cock against your cheek. Your flush deepens and you whimper, eyes fluttering. If it’s the drug he thinks it is, then Avery’s sure you must be unbearably sensitive right now. Even this touch might feel like a lot for you at the moment.
Thinking about how many deviants must have had their go at you with you like this pisses him off all over again.
Avery shoves you back and releases himself. “Bend over,” he orders.
You shakily shift on the couch, turning to bend over the back of it with your knees on the seat. As you get into position, he glances around the room for any lube. However, before he catches sight of any, or any drawers there may be, movement in the corner of his eye draws his attention back to you. You’ve pulled the skirt of your dress up your body, revealing your ass and, to his surprise, a large plug that you work out with quiet grunts.
Once it’s removed, your loose hole twitches, glistening and dripping with lube. The sight is as alluring as it is infuriating. You’d gone through all this preparation…for just anyone. That’s what it is. The fact that you’re offering yourself up for anyone willing to pay a pittance for you, and therefore placing Avery amongst their low-class ilk in so doing, is insulting in the highest degree.
With a quiet growl, Avery roughly grabs your hip and positions his cock at your hole. He doesn’t bother being considerate, just thrusts into you hard until the fly of his slacks is digging into your cheeks. You moan his name with so much longing, but Avery still can’t properly enjoy it, can’t trust that it’s anything to do with him. And so, since Avery doesn’t get to have you exactly the way he wants, any additional goal of satisfaction is abandoned altogether. This is for punishment alone rather than pleasure.
That decided, Avery grabs you tight by the hips, and starts fucking you. He doesn’t bother to be gentle. Going by your sweet, wanting moans and cries, you don’t particularly care.
“You’re going to quit this job,” he demands over the erotic symphony of sex and your sounds of pleasure. “I’m going to use you until I decide I’m done, then you’re going to grab your things, and I’m going to take you to my mansion.” He starts fucking you harder, his voice going husky. “And you’ll never come back here again.”
You don’t agree, nor do you argue. You don’t give any indication that you were even listening to him, in fact. He reaches forward to grab you by the hair, yanking your head backwards again and making you cry out.
“Did you hear me?” he hisses. “Swear to me you’ll never step foot into this building again.”
“I-I… Ngh…!” You groan when he clenches his fist tighter in your hair. “I won’t! I won’t, Avery! I promise, I’ll quit!” Your head falls forward with a gasp when he releases you.
“Good boy,” he coos, oozing with false cheer. “See? It’s not so hard to behave, isn’t it?”
If you had an answer, it’s interrupted by your orgasm suddenly overtaking you. With a desperate moan, you grip the back of the couch hard and squeeze tight around Avery’s cock. When you’re nothing but weak trembling, he pulls out of you and spanks you hard, making a full-body shudder course through you.
“You’re not done yet,” he says, taking a seat on the couch again right next to you. You look at him blearily, confused. Your eyelashes are wet with tears. Avery huffs, and yanks your arm so that you collapse against him. “I want you to ride me, boy. Understand?”
It takes a moment, but eventually his words do seem to click for you, and you move to follow his command, limbs shaky. With practiced ease, you grip onto Avery’s shoulders, and slide down onto his length, shivering a little once he’s all the way in. He rests his arms along the back of the couch, and glances down to see you’re still mostly hard. Largely thanks to the drug, he’d wager.
You’re slow at first as you ride him, weakened from your orgasm as you are, but you gradually build up speed, falling into what seems to be habit or muscle memory. He hates every hint that points to you having worked here for quite a while now. Each one makes him that much angrier.
Lip curling, Avery uses your name to get your attention. You stumble a little in your pace, but you blink and look at him. “Take that off,” he says, jerking his chin at the slip you’re wearing. “Aren’t you ashamed? Wearing something like that… And on top of everything else,” he adds with contempt.
You bite your lip and slow your pace so you can grab the back of the dress and yank it over your head. Even fully naked, you show no sign of shame as you throw yourself into riding him.
And though he loathes the fact you must have built much of your skill here, it doesn’t stop you from being skilled regardless. It doesn’t take much longer for Avery’s balls to tighten, his orgasm close to cresting.
“Stop,” he orders, voice throaty. When you do, he reaches up to grab you by the hair again, and yanks you close so that he can whisper in your ear without having to move. “Beg, whore.”
He doesn’t clarify, doesn’t tell you what he wants to hear. You stammer a little, unsure. “Please, Avery… Please forgive me.” Your voice trembles as you stab in the dark towards whatever script Avery has in mind.
It’s not exactly what he wanted, but it’s not a disappointing improvisation.
“You want me to forgive you?” Avery scoffs. “It will take more than just words to earn my forgiveness.”
“Whatever you want,” you whisper. “Whatever it takes.”
“‘Whatever I want’?” Not bad. Not bad at all. Avery raises an eyebrow. “You sound rather desperate, pet.”
“I…I am.” He notices a slight croaking quality in your voice. Are you crying? “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
Because you’re afraid he’ll ruin you, he’s sure. Or just afraid of losing his money. Perhaps both. Not that it particularly matters, in any event.
He bites at the shell of your ear viciously. You cry out in pain, but squeeze tight around him as you shudder. It sends a pleasant shiver up his own spine.
“I meant beg for my cum,” he says in lieu of a proper reply. “I’m sure you’re plenty used to it, so I’m expecting a good show out of you.”
You gasp trembling breaths, your hands gripping the shoulders of his jacket tight. You’re probably dirtying it with your sweaty palms. But it’s not as if he intends to keep this suit when he knows he’ll be irritable whenever he sees it in his closet.
Just when he’s about to demand you get on with it, you finally start to speak.
“I want to feel your cum deep inside me,” you mutter feverishly. There’s a quiet desperation in your voice. “Yours is the only I ever want, Avery—in me, on me, whichever you’ll give me. S-so much so that when we leave, I…” He hears the way you swallow thickly, and you squirm a little on him with filthy delight. “May I suck you…? Or you can fuck me; my mouth, my ass, whatever you want. Just…please.”
A titillating performance to be sure. It most certainly works on Avery; he finds himself wanting nothing more than to empty himself into you.
He shoves you to the side, off of his cock.
“A-Avery—?”
“Fret not, boy, you’ll have what you want,” he says, a condescending smirk on his lips. “Turn over.”
You don’t hesitate to move onto your front, face down against the cushion, backside up for his use. He pushes down on the small of your back so it’s fully bent, and positions himself into something approximating a mating press, though with one foot on the floor for balance.
You asked for deep, after all. He plans to give it to you.
Avery fucks back into you hard, though he only lasts a few thrusts before throwing himself hard into one final one with a guttural groan. It’s pleasurable indeed, draining every drop of seed into you that he has. Both because of the physical sensation of it, and also because of the way you writhe and whimper beneath him as though it truly is the only thing you wanted.
It’s so satisfying, in fact, that he even allows you to worm one hand down so you can beat yourself off. The crooning moan you let out along with your own orgasm is music to his ears, enough that he feels one last weak wave of semen pulse inside you.
For several long moments, neither of you move. You stay like that, both panting for breath. But eventually this position begins to cause an ache in Avery’s lower back, so he pulls out and collapses onto the seat beside you. It’s the perfect place, he finds, to watch the slightest bit of white drool out of your hole, and down your perineum. But thanks to your position, not much else does, the rest staying where it is, sinking deeper within you…
He’s glad he already intended to take to his place after this, because Avery finds himself very inclined to give you more.
Suddenly, the hand that had been loosely wrapped around your softening erection shifts, moving up and around, all the way to your hole. Without hesitation, you plunge two fingers in, take a small scoop of cum, and bring it down in front of you.
Avery doesn’t see your face, but he doesn’t need to to know what you’re doing when we hears the wet suction of your mouth and your muffled moan.
Once again, he’s forced to wonder if this is the drug or if being such a filthy fucking cumslut is your natural predilection.
It doesn’t matter, he decides. He’ll discover the answer himself in a couple hours when it wears off. Until then, he’ll take you to his bedroom and let you suffer the effects of it unsatisfied in punishment. Then he’ll finally get to have you how he wants you, content in the knowledge you won’t be coming to this den of iniquity ever again.
As he forces you to your knees so you can take his softened dick into your mouth to lick him clean, his seed dribbling down your thighs, he fantasizes about covering you in more of it back home as you give him his own private performance. A show none can hope to see and a doll no one may touch save for him.