A Stranger I Can Trust

Hey, I've been a long time reader but I've never shared my writing outside of some close friends. Here is the first chapter of a three part story. I'm excited to hear feedback from the community!

*****

Fuck, I was actually doing this. A part of me almost laughed at how ridiculous it was, but my heart was beating too hard for me to do anything but stand there staring at the door. It wasn't my idea, but I couldn't chicken out. It was too late and besides, he told me to and I told him I would. I guess I thought it was a joke, but I still said yes. He asked me if I was serious and long story short: if I didn't change my mind he wouldn't let me breathe. I guess it was pretty innocent of a request, I wouldn't even be naked.

So here I am outside the apartment of a guy I've never met. I reached out, steeled myself for a moment, then knocked. I had to remind myself to breathe and stand up straight, but I didn't have time to process my own advice before I was standing face to face with... some guy. I guess I expected to know him or something, but this was a stranger.

"Hi," I managed. I'd meant my voice to be strong but it was mousy. He smiled, his face a little red.

"Hey, you came!"

"Yeah. You're..." I trailed off. Was I allowed to ask his name?

"Come on in!"

He ushered me into his apartment. It looked like a classic bachelor pad that had been cleaned up just recently. Light poured in through a pair of open windows. I stood in the middle of the sunlit living room staring wildly for a moment, almost jumping a foot when I heard the snick sound of the deadbolt locking. He was still by the door watching me. Fuck I was nervous. This was really happening.

"Can we close the windows?" I asked.

"It's fine. Can I take your coat?"

Fumbling, I started with the buttons, letting out a shaky breath. Already losing the jacket, that's ok. I knew this would have to happen. I handed over coat, letting my hands fall to the side so he could look at me in my red flannel shirt and pants. A long moment passed before he kept talking.

"Listen, I can get you some wine or something if you like. You seem really tense."

"Y- yeah. Ok. Sure." I managed.

He didn't move.

"Thank you." I added quickly.

"You know, it might also be easier if we just get into it."

Fuck. This was moving really fast, but he was right. I could feel him breathing heavily. Slowly, I moved my hands to undo a button of my shirt. I noticed them shaking a bit. I kept reminding myself that it wasn't even sex. Just harmless fun.

"Do you have the timer?" I asked him.

"In the kitchen, I'll get it in a sec. I want to see first."

"But," I already realized how useless it was to protest, "he said five minutes."

"I paid to touch for five minutes, we didn't say anything about looking. Strip."

He was starting to get more commanding, which scared me but I found myself unbuttoning quickly. It was actually easier with him guiding me, I guess. When my shirt was off he took it from me and then dropped it on the floor along with my jacket. I swallowed. For a moment I just watched him drink in my red lace bra. It didn't give much support and you could see the dark of my nipples through the pattern, especially in the bright sunlight. I realized that I could see his neighbor's apartment complex very well through the windows. Suddenly he took a step forward and I stumbled back. He followed until I felt the sofa hitting the back of my knees. He reached out and cupped one of my breasts in his hand, squeezing and lifting it.

"The timer!" I almost yelped.

He paused, breathing heavily, still touching me.

"Have this shit off before I'm back", he growled, grabbing the fabric of my bra where it passed under my arm. "I paid for your tits, not some fucking pretty princess bullshit."

He vanished into a kitchen and I heard glasses clinking.

Fuck, he's really intense. He said pretty though, I'm glad he liked the bra. Wait, did he say 'paid'? What the fuck, that was not how this was explained to me. Did money change hands for this? What the fuck, I wasn't just some toy that could be rented out to get dicks hard. Christ, this guy must think I'm some fucking easy slut. He must think I'm a whore. He thinks he's bought and paid for me.

Oh god he has bought and paid for me. He thinks I'm a whore because he paid money and now I'm here taking my clothes off. I'm being a whore right now, in a second he's going to come back in here and grab my fucking tits because they're goods he owns.

I looked to the locked door and swallowed. Fuck. I'm not going to chicken out. I'm better than running away. I wasn't going to get raddled because things were getting a little bit kinky. I wonder how much he paid. I was worth a lot, wasn't I? Before I could think more I remembered what I was told. I unhooked the bra and tossed it on the floor.

He came back out and locked onto my tits, grinning. He was carrying two glasses of wine, and he took a sip of one before handing me mine. I downed the whole thing fast.

"Timer?" my voice sounded strong this time. I felt powerful having his eyes so fixed on me.

"It's in the kitchen."

We stood there for a second before he reached out to touch what he'd bought. I flinched back, dropping the empty glass to the sofa. I saw anger flash across his face for a moment before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pulling his hand back. Oh god I don't even know who this guy is. He relaxed, looked up at me and smiled easily.

His hand reached up gently to brush some of my hair behind my ear. His palm opened against the space where my neck met my jaw. His grip tightened, reaching back to grab onto my hair. He started pulling me.

"Kitchen.", he growled.

Fuck fuck fuck. I went with him, dragged by my head. Something broke in me a bit and I couldn't help but tear up and breathe faster. This was supposed to be easy, just a grope. Why did this guy need to be such as assho-

He let go and grabbed an old baking timer and cranked it before dropping it back down on the counter and turning on me.

"Was that five minutes?" I asked.

He didn't say anything, he put an arm around me and pulled me close, squeezing and pushing my tits with the other hand. The breath went out of me as he stepped into me and pushed me up against the fridge.

"Hey," I meant to shout it but I was so damn quiet. He ignored me, pushing harder.

I pressed my arms against him and tried to push him back so I could breathe but it was useless. We stayed like that with him digging his fingers deeper, pinching and twisting to hurt me me until he bent down to bite the top of my tits. The intensity and fear rushed together into a pressure I felt all over my body. I felt so crushed and my face was so hot. The hand around my back started to push down my pants and paw at my ass, reaching under me to push his fingers further. That wasn't the deal. This wasn't the deal. I was too busy trying to breathe.

Dimly, I thought I could hear the timer go off, but he just kept going. I tried to call out but all I could manage was mewling at him while he started unbuttoning my pants. No. Fuck. No, the deal. I tried to push his arms away but I could barely move my own, they felt like I was carrying weights. Something was wrong.

The smell of champagne rose made me choke. He was dumping the bottle on me as I leaned against the fridge. I felt it dripping from my hair onto my bare chest, glossing me. A moment later, I saw his hand raise and felt a thump like a heavy book closing.

Heavily, I slipped down the counter and toppled over, my cheek hit the floor. I could feel him behind me. Or maybe it was above me, it kept changing. He was starting to pull my pants down with my underwear. Looking out the door, I saw my gray jacket laying on the floor in the sun. A pair of brown boots was standing on my jacket. My eyelids closed slowly, flaring open for a moment in anger as I thought about the marks they'd leave on my jacket. Who the fuck was standing on my- who the fuck was here? Is someone else here? I groaned, letting my eyes close just one more time.