When he came to it took him several seconds to realize that the giant octopus of his dreams was really a series of ropes tied around his wrists, ankles, and waist. “WTF?” he whispered to himself as he tried to make sense of the pounding headache and odd streak of sunlight that seemed to be coming up at him from the floor, blinding him.
The room spun slowly around him as the pain increased in his wrists and feet, and the blood pulsed louder in his head. “SHIT!” His brain adjusted to what his eyes were seeing. The rope attached to a hook, the sun shown in his eyes, and he dangled from the ceiling like a trussed pig.
Sounds clarified and he heard the seagulls, horns, and trucks of the dock and an odd clicking noise echoed off the abandoned building’s walls and broken windows. On his next rotation, his eyes adjusted to the light, and he saw her behind the camera, shooting away.
“Now do you remember me?
|171-175 - Payment|
Rent was due and there was no way Elena was going to come up with it this time. Rare LPs, 1st edition books (one signed by Mieville), her mother’s jewelry, and her mentor’s 1956 Zenit C, her Russian gem, had all been sold last month to keep in her studio space.
Time was out and the Duchess was at the door.
“Is he here?”
“Yes M’am” Elena answered, and they walked back to the umbrella lights around her bed.
Peter, naked under the covers, refused to make eye contact with either one of them.
“Start shooting,” the old woman said, and without ceremony, she pulled back the covers and attacked his cock. From behind the camera Elena watched the aging Duchess drool over her lover’s body. Against his will, he hardened, grimaced, and came as her claws dug in and held him deep.
Shamed, spent, he slid out of bed and replaced her behind the camera as her landlady held out her hand and beckoned her, “Come dear, Pay your debt.”
She steadied herself in the mirror, tried not to smile, and click.
She pulled the memory stick out of the camera and walked down the hall to his computer. Feeling the heat dripping down her inner thighs, she grabbed a towel along the way, and spread it over the expensive leather chair.
Her hand shook as she put the card in the slot and clicked “OK” to view the files. She opened the folder and her thighs, and began looking. Blonds, redhead, brunettes, one with a shaved head, most with shaved pussies, and all of them beautiful, all of them past guests. She chose “Slide show”, picked some music, and leaned back in the chair.
Some girls were shy, posed to protect, others were wanton, smiling, and acting the part of brazen whore to meet their obligation. She stroked deeper as his house guests scrolled by. She gasped, circled, and exploded as her pictures ended the show. Three days in his beautiful house, three pictures. What a small price to pay.
We all have debts to pay, payments to make, obligations for and against our balance sheet. How we pay those off is just a matter of negotiation, and cash is so over rated.