Page 1 of Poison

Chapter 1

My body tensed at the sensation of his bare palms gliding along my skin. They were warm and slick, covering every inch of my exposed flesh. As his hands moved, I closed my eyes and forced myself down into the black hole of my mind. Isaac was going to go away for a while, and Starburst was going to emerge. Hobbs' perfect little star was going to shine brightly while the real me hid away within the depths of my subconscious.

When Hobbs removed his hand, I looked down at the glow of glitter covering my nearly naked body. It shimmered with every small movement I made. The pink thong he put me in was too tight. It was riding up my crack so far I could nearly taste the string.

Bringing his lips to my ear, he whispered, "Time to be my good boy."

The door slid open a few seconds later, and I stepped into a box. White walls surrounded me except for the floor-to-ceiling glass partition. Under me were large pink pillows covered in faux fur. Nearly buried by the pile was a small storage bin filled with wet wipes and sex toys of all sorts. Behind me was my alter ego's name, Starburst, in neon lights with a falling star next to it, the same image I had tattooed on my hip.

As I got to my knees, Hobbs picked up a bright pink collar attached to a chain bolted to the ground. I winced at the sound of the click as he clipped it around my neck. He removed my bright orange shackles and replaced them with a pink set that matched my thong and collar. Hobbs always insisted on pink.

Across the hallway was another box similar to mine, except the theme was red, and there was a woman chained up inside. She worked for a rival company, but I knew her well enough. Like me, she wore shackles around her wrists, the chain that once bound them together broken and hanging free, same as mine. The fractured chain symbolized to the world that we were servants who were allowed to walk freely throughout the city without our sponsor or an escort. Many servants in the other boxes weren't so lucky. Their chains were intact, meaning they had to have an escort everywhere they went.

The sign behind the woman lit up in bright red letters. Cherry Pie. Unlike me, she preferred people to call her by a stage name rather than her birth name. It was a way to disassociate from trauma. Like Starburst, Cherry Pie couldn't be broken. She could endure. She offered me a little wave before rubbing glitter oil on her silky brown skin, which shimmered in the light. When she was finished, she blew me a kiss with bright red lips and bounced the curls of her matching cherry-red hair.

I shook my head slowly before lying down on the pillows. Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath and held it for a long while before slowly exhaling. When my lids snapped open, a sly, flirty grin crossed my lips. It was time to play the part of the needy, cock hungry, power-bottom that Starburst was portrayed as.

A bell tone rang out, and I rubbed at my skin as men began to eagerly walk down the hallway. Many passed by, but one stopped in front of Cherry's booth. I watched with detached interest as she crawled to the partition, pressing her face against it. There was a tiny chime, and the glass slid down. I didn't need to watch the rest. What was happening to her was about to happen to me soon enough.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than three men stepped up. Forcing a wider grin, I crawled over to the glass, running my finger along the surface while bringing my face close to the speaker. "Does someone want to play with me?" I asked, scooting back so I could get a good look at my customers.

The first man was tall and lanky with glasses and greasy brown hair. His hand trembled as he pulled out a small purple card and slid it into the payment slot. The second man was pudgy with holes in his gray shirt, thick glasses, and a shaved head. The last was a little less pathetic looking, tall with a ponytail of long red hair that hung past his shoulders, a freckled face, and clean clothes.

The purple card meant they bought a package deal, so they would have more time than a single paying patron. As the glass slowly slid down, the first man yanked at his pants; his body shook as if he had never seen a nearly nude man in person before. The second his cock was free, he began tugging it damned near violently. The eagerness of his stroking looked painful, almost making me wince. Next, the chubby man yanked out his own stubby little member, and then the redhead joined in.

I backed up, spreading my legs and arching my back as I reclined on the fuzzy pillows, rubbing my body and moaning loudly. I rolled onto my stomach, lifting my ass high in the air and pushing the thong to the side for the men to get a full view. "Give it to me, Daddy!" I begged as I inserted a finger inside, groaning with false delight. As I slid it in further, I heard one of the men gasp as another moaned.

I opened the storage bin in the corner, pulled out a bright pink vibrator, and began running it up and down along my crack. There was another grunt from one of the men. When I rolled over again, I lifted my legs up, sliding the toy gently past the tight ring of muscle for the men to watch. "That's it, Daddy! Just like that!" I cried.

"Sit up!"

Sliding the toy from my body, I did as instructed, crawling toward the edge of the box with a grin. Seconds later, the man's cum shot out; I turned my head slightly to make sure I didn't get any in my eyes. I giggled. "Yeah, baby, give it to me!" I begged. In quick succession, the chubby man followed suit, and finally, the redhead shot his load with a loud groan, coating my chest with his warm, sticky goo.

Letting my gaze move along all three, I kept a flirty smile on my face as I pressed a button to lift the partition. The pudgy guy put his hand on the top of the glass. "Wait! We still have time on our card."

Grinning, I pulled out some wet wipes. "Read the small print, fellas. The session is over the moment you cum."

The man continued to argue, "Oh, come on! Just let us watch you cum!"

I chuckled. As if any of these men had a snowball's chance in the underworld of making me finish. I didn't have to reply as a bouncer named Rudy pushed the group away. I only smiled and waved as they were forced down the hall.

Several more men came and went within the eight hours I was forced to sit in that box. A few were good-looking, but most had an aura to them that made me want to get away as quickly as possible. To the patrons on the other side of the box, I wasn't a person. I was a thing to be toyed with, an object.

I got to my knees as another fat red-headed man stepped up to the booth. He swiped his card and began yanking down his pants. As I began to rub my body, a loud buzzer rang through the area, and the light in my box went from white to red. Smirking, I got to my feet as the door behind me slid open, and the collar around my neck fell to the ground.

"Time's up, sweetie," I muttered, rubbing the sensitive skin of my throat.

"Oh, come on! I'll be quick! Please!" he begged, banging his chubby fists on the glass.

I shrugged. "Next time, be on time. We're closed. The money will still be on your card. Come back in six months." I waved behind me and stepped through the door into the darkness backstage. Groaning, I leaned back against the wall for a moment, trying to get my head straight. It was always rough being forced into one of those boxes. As I reached for a silky pink robe, I almost felt bad for the guy. It was kind of shitty for the staff to let him in, knowing the show would be closing before he got his rocks off.

Fuck that guy. Fuck all of them. I wouldn't be mad if every one of the perverts who came to this establishment dropped dead on the streets. They all knew what the shackles meant. That I was being forced to allow them to rub their meat and coat me in their slime. No one could be stupid enough to not realize that every time I begged them to cum on me, it was all just an act. An act that I wasn't even getting paid for.

Glancing back at the door, I sighed heavily. Unlike so many others in those little cubes, I wouldn't be forced to endure that every day. I was "an angel." A rare sight to behold; the top man-on-man sex worker in the entire city. I was only forced into those booths once, maybe twice a year, and a person was going to pay top dollar for my time.

Chapter 2

I let the robe drop the instant I walked into my fifteenth-floor apartment with no balcony and barred windows. The floor was made to look like unrefined turquoise, and the walls were white with vibrant abstract paintings of men fucking each other. The art wasn't my personal choice, but whatever. The dresser was covered in flowers of all assortments, and all the chairs and the couch were covered in pink faux fur. The color wasn't my idea, either; Hobbs seemed to have an obsession with it. He said it made me look more innocent and helped to mold my persona. I called it bullshit.

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