The Harlot

Lavínia Fadel

Wanting to talk, I went to Aurora's room and walked in. Turning around, I saw her stand up immediately and push the dresser drawer shut with her hip.

— Am I interrupting? _I ask. — I can come back another time.

She glanced at the dresser, assessing, and ran her hand over it, quickly grabbing a handkerchief.

— I was cleaning. _She folded the small handkerchief twice, and I glimpsed it stained with blood. I grimace, and she notices. — My red lipstick broke and made a mess. _She explained, placing the handkerchief on the dresser. — But come in. Do you need something?

I shake my head and cross my arms.

— I came to talk to you. _Aurora and I got along really well, maybe because she was only a year older than me, and we were the youngest in the brothel. It was easy to talk to her, and she was always willing to help. She was already here when I arrived and was the first to extend a hand and patiently teach me everything about this world of prostitution.

— About what? _She wanted to know.

I take a deep breath.

— It's weird that one of us died. Who could be capable of such an atrocity? _I grimace and sit on the bed.

— That bitch was always giving you a hard time. You should be jumping for joy that she's dead.

— I can't feel any relief.

— I think someone did you a favor.

I shake my head. The woman had a family… how must they be feeling?

— Don't say nonsense, Aurora.

— Why are we talking about that wretch? You didn't come here for that, did you? _She rubbed her hands on her pajamas and came to sit on her bed too. — How was yesterday?

I look at her.

— Awful. If that man wasn't injured, he would've killed me. The guy's a lunatic. _I say, scandalized by everything that happened yesterday. — The guy snorted cocaine off my leg. How disgusting!

Not to mention he shoved a damn knife into my pussy and made me cum.

What a crazy man…

He's really a psychopath!

And that necrophilia thing, is it true?

How could someone fuck a warm corpse?

That's sick.

— I'm sensing a dark vibe here. _She commented, and I furrowed my brow, flooded with repulsion.

— No lie, the guy is super weird.

— Isn't that the kind of guy you like? _She asked, laughing.

— God forbid! I'm terrified of that sicko. He's creepy, looks at me like I'm nothing. Yesterday, I felt like he was really going to kill me.

— But he didn't. _Aurora reminded me, smiling for no reason. — He's super hot. He's got a sexy gaze and such an attractive walk. Even I, Lavínia, would beg that man to kill me by pounding me.

I'm stunned.

— You're bizarre. _I slap her and stand up to leave the room and go have breakfast. That's enough talk for today.

— You're so dumb for not taking advantage of that man.

I drop the smile.

— I'll never take advantage of anything with that despicable, vile scumbag. _I declared, full of hatred.

— That's not what it seemed like when the whole brothel heard you moaning.

Not wanting to hear her talk more nonsense, I turned my back on her and left her room.

Unfortunately, I didn't control my body. So, I had no way to stop a man that size from fucking my pussy with a knife. Better that than his damn freakish dick.

---

When the client finished licking my pussy, I framed his face with my hands and pulled him up.

His mouth came toward mine, and I turned my face, receiving a bite on my cheek.

— I don't kiss on the mouth. _I remind him, laughing.

— Not even my mouth you want to kiss? _He whispered in my ear and nibbled my earlobe.

— It's not that I don't want to… _I moaned, reaching for his hands and bringing them to squeeze my breasts. — I just can't mix things up.

— That's why I'm crazy about you. _He whispered, groping my breasts, squeezing them hard. I gasp, smiling. — I always leave wanting more.

— And you come back… then you come back again and again. _I bit my lips and teased him, grinding beneath him and letting his erect, protected cock touch where I was burning.

— Don't tease like that, you slut… this pussy ruins me.

Eager and desperate, I ran my hands over his smooth, chiseled abdomen.

Suddenly, I shifted my gaze and stared into nothing, wondering why that man had so many scars and why he was so injured. The guy was wrecked…

What does he do for a living?

Who could've hurt him so much?

He was thin, sunken eyes, so lost…

Where had he been all these months?

I snap out of my thoughts and feel my small nipples being sucked.

I'd never forget that because of him, I fucked even those God himself would doubt.

I returned fully to the bed, but I couldn't help glancing at the furniture in the corner where that perverse wretch made me cum with a knife, and I thought he was going to kill me.

With everything swirling in my head, I turned back to the client.

— I need you to go all in and make me cum until I forget my name. _If I had to beg, I would beg. I didn't want to think about that sick psychopath anymore. The blond-haired client looked into my eyes, seeming over the moon with my request. — My head's a mess…

— Sweetie, you want me to shove my dick in you?

— Please…

He did as I pleaded and went all in, drawing a lascivious moan from my lips. My hands ran over his back, scratching him entirely and sliding down to his ass, touching it and feeling the back-and-forth of his hips against my intimacy.

Crazed, wanting more and something that man could never give, I reached for his hand and brought it to my neck.

I wanted him to choke me while he fucked me, but he didn't, not like *him*. His hands weren't the size of *his*, not big and tanned, not *him*…

I closed my eyes tightly, cursing myself for thinking about that bastard and only managed to cum when I needed the help of my fingers.

This was hell.

And that wretch was starting to haunt me and become my damn torment…

Why, for a moment, did I want the one devouring me with all his size and strength to be *him*… the perverse soul-devourer?

Imagine him fucking me in search of a soul, pounding me hard for not finding one… because I have no soul.

How long could our fuck last? Especially since he wouldn't find what he wants.

That time, I didn't know much… now it could be different…

I shake my head.

No! That's madness, Lavínia.

---

In the bathtub, my hair tied up in a messy bun, I held and stared at the knife that wretch shoved into my pussy. He'd forgotten it on the furniture while he waited for me to clean up in the bathroom before leaving.

It was on purpose… I'm sure.

He did it to have a reason to come back.

— What if I killed you with this knife?… That way, you'd get out of my head. _I asked myself in a faint voice.

What kind of man likes these things?

I still couldn't believe I let that sick bastard put this inside me.

As if I had a choice… it was that or be violated.

And yes, high or not, he'd do it a lot. The guy has no limits.

And the worst part is I couldn't even complain. The pimp seemed terrified of him; she let me be dragged like trash by that condemned man.

Yeah, I didn't have much of a way out.

— Lavínia? _Aurora's desperate voice entered my room and snapped me back to reality.

Startled, I sank the knife in the bathtub, and she appeared with a look of horror on her face.

— You look like you've seen a ghost. _I say.

— The police are downstairs. _She revealed.

I furrowed my brow, confused.

— What? Why?

— The client you were with had his organs ripped out, including his dick and balls.

Standing, the water ran down my body, and I stepped on the knife, afraid it might float.

Tormented, I focused my mental chaos on Aurora and shook my head, denying this absurdity.

— What?

— You're fucked, Lavínia… they're going to search your room. They even have a search and seizure warrant.

Discreetly, I glanced at the knife under my foot in the bathtub.

I'd almost be unconcerned, but I didn't know where this knife came from. What I did know was that the handle had small lettering engraved:

"Assassin guilty of my miserable life. Mr. Fontana"

How would I explain this to the police?

And if I turned him in? The police could come for one crime and find another…