Jael's heavily kholed eyes glittered beneath his arched eyebrow, staring intently at his favourite barmaid, lingering on her swaying hips as she pottered round the old oak bar. Long fingers gripped his pewter chain and pendant, twirling it round in little circles, twisting the key that hung there with familiarity. He sat at his usual table, running a long nail over the heavily grooved wood, carved out by young gothic teens, playing with their flick knives and looking at their feet trying to not get asked their age. Jael never got asked, even when he was underage, people seemed to sense that if anyone was asking the questions, it would be him. Jael liked it that way, it was always wise for people to see and realise his strength, all his previous charges realised that very swiftly indeed. He was well known among his companions for his work with more difficult submissives, and often had a stray young thing on his doorstep waiting for his expert tutelage.
Roxy
was one of the more popular barmaids at Jacobs Bar, working every weeknight without fail. She was used to being to object of a few men's affections, and knew how to take care of herself when they got a little rough. Getting her fair share of drunken Englishmen hitting on her, and not taking "leave me alone you slimy bastard!" for a hint, she'd had to learn a little self-defence. Every night they would come out of work from the depths of London's finest financier joints and upper Wall Street merchants wanting to ogle and drink before having to return to the humdrum of their home and wives.
Roxy's green eyes scanned the length of the bar, landed for a second on Jael, noticing thankfully, that he hadn't finished his drink yet, so she could avoid going over there for a little time yet. He'd told her his name the first time she had served him, though since, there was little to no exchange of words between them. She wasn't sure why, but that man made her nervous, she felt compelled to bite her lip when she caught eyes with him, and a distinct blush rise in her soft face, something she wasn't used to happening. She found it hard not to stare, whenever she was sure he wasn't looking of course, which was far too often for her comfort.
He had such strangely dark hair, like a colourless black, almost blue in the dim light of the bar, tumbling about his eyes, down his chin and onto his broad shoulders. His hair was always teasingly covering his best features, a strong, stubble covered jaw, and starkly defined lips, full and almost feminine, and the most wonderful and stark eyes, iridescent blue with a strange depth. Not piercing, but intriguing, and an odd contrast to the darkness of his hair, and the almost Mediterranean skin. Roxy jumped with a little yelp out of her thoughts, turning quickly rubbing her buttocks.
"Craig! Would you stop that?! I should report you ya know..."
"Ooh, now you wouldn't want to do that would you sweetheart? Tell on your boss? Not the smartest biscuit in the tin now are we? And besides, you love me telling you off don't you?"
Craig leant in close to Roxy, his rancid stale breath playing about her shoulders and neck, the smell of clove cigarettes and whiskey, mingled with toothpaste poorly applied.
"Don't you?"
Craig whispered.
"You love the idea that I might one day drag you out back, and pull you across my knee, spanking that cute arse of yours..."
"FUCK Off CRAIG!"
A deep growl escaped Jael's lips as Roxy bent over to reach for clean glasses, just showing the curve of her full ass under her tight black punk skirt, her legs taut beneath the black fishnet stockings, with strategic holes all the way down to her charmingly decorated steel capped boots. The men of the bar were glad she was only 5ft3, it meant she couldn't reach the higher glasses and had to bend over each time to reach the lower ones. What an oxymoronic site, the face, so soft; delicate as a Bottecelli nymph.
His eyes traced along her large hips, tightly nipped in waist, and delicate white breasts, well shaped and pushing to come out of her low swooping raggedly cut vest. Her hair, so long, all the way down her back to her waist, slightly waved, and a deep violet purple, just a hint of the natural colour at the roots, a mousy dark blonde. Her clothing, brash and deliberately aggressive, like a warning to all that she isn't what she seems.
Well, he was prepared to find out if she was as forthcoming as her dress sense, certainly she was talkative to everyone but him, and obviously not too shy, but she exuded a great air of inexperience. He watched as she wandered to the Jukebox, glass in hand, obviously on her break, placing two coins in the slot, and searching for something to listen to. She couldn't be more than 18 he mused, smiling when he noticed the piece of satin string she had tied round her throat. She was fiddling with it absentmindedly, red chipped varnish the same colour as the collar. The music filled the room suddenly; he laughed, curled lip in mirth, as Billy Idol Blasted onto the jukebox, loudly wailing "its a nice day for a white wedding". A wicked smirk adorned his face as he wondered if she knew the real meaning of a white wedding, wanting to take her into the back room now, and show her exactly what it was. Images of grasping her hips as he pushed into her, listening to her soft mewling before pulling out and exploding all over her lily white back...
He shook the image from his mind, no, there would be time for that later, but for now he had to gain her attention, and try to find the spark in her he thought was buried just below the surface. It would be a challenge and far too much fun to bring her out, and he was more than willing to be the one to do it. He started to wonder why he was feeling pangs of jealousy more and more, every time he saw her, talking to a customer. Soon, Jael silently mouthed to Roxy, soon, you will be mine...
Oh buggering hell!"
Roxy jumped out of bed, winced as her naked feet landed on the cold wooden floor, missing her soft rug like every other afternoon.
Tossing her hair up and under into a tight bun, she raced to the bathroom for a quick shower, twisting the steel knob of the shower, trying to make herself remember new batteries for her stupid alarm clock. Four days in a row she'd come close to being late for work, only just making it in on time for her shift. She didn't mind being late herself, but Craig tended to get pissy at her, and find it ample cause to even more lecherous to her, if she was so much as a minute late, it was open season.
She'd considered getting a job else where, after all there were plenty of bars in London, and with the way she looked any bar in Camden would employ her. But despite her boss, it was a good bar to work in, and the tips were great. Roxy's eyes fell on her naked form in the long mirror, lily skin covered in a light sweaty sheen, her light pink nipples puckering slightly in the mixed warm mist and cold marble of the bathroom. Running a hand over her curves she thought of coming home later, a late night in front of the telly, just her, George Clooney on re-runs of ER, and her vibrator. She had received it as a gift from her best friend Indigo on her last birthday, 21 and never owned one before; Indigo had practically dragged her to the shop to choose one.
Roxy climbed into the shower, sighing softly as the hot jet and spray of the water hit her naked stomach, turning round slowly to let it flow over her hair, little water trails cascading down her shoulders, between her breasts and down past her belly button. She moved her hand down, letting her fingers lightly brush against her smooth outer lips, palm over her soft downy mound.
The scent of her wetness reached her nostrils, the faintly organic smell of her arousal making her nipples harden. No, she thought, if I start this now I'll be so late in Craig will be a complete Arse all night. She shivered under the hot spray, half caring and half not, debating whether it would be worth being late or not. Biting her lip, she slowly pushed a finger just inside, feeling her own slickness coat it, her pussy hugging the tip, all thoughts of work slipping away down the drain along with the water.
Fuck Craig she mused, let him be a jerk for all I care, I'm kind of in the mood for a fight with him now. Her body trembled as her finger probed deeper, up to the second knuckle, her spare hand holding her lips apart, exploring her clit. She imagined a pair of lips caressing her neck, strong hands stroking her back, digging nails in as they reached her hips. She could feel hot breath near her ear, whispering things she couldn't quite hear; she didn't need to hear words, she felt the intentions clear enough. A soft whimper escaped her parted lips, finger moving quicker, in deeper strokes, her mind reeling from the smell and sensations.
"Oohh, so worth being late"
she laughed
Roxy shuddered as an image of Craig popped into her head, her pussy seemingly recoiling at the idea. Shit! Shouldn't have thought about work she growled.
She kept her fingers working between her lips, more furiously, rubbing against her clit, trying to think of anyone else but him. Shutting her eyes, she saw a new face swim into her subconscious. Dark long hair, strong features, and soft lips...I know this face she thought, her insides already relaxing, and becoming far more sensitive. Roxy quivered and almost lost her balance, placing a hand swiftly on the wall beside her. Name swimming tauntingly in front of her eyes, blazing letters like a neon sign, Jael.
