A consistent theme in life is being uncomfortable. With the hole I've dug, let's call it luck that the dirt isn't being dusted on top of me.
The local 'Mob' recruited me as the unfortunate sap that needed debts paid. I barely had enough for the bus to my shit job, being hounded by two hospitals for medical stays from identity theft, and having everything but a mattress and mini fridge taken by 'repo' men. When they'd found me, I said I'd do whatever they asked. Wished I hadn't said that.
After selling some shoddy products, I caught the eye of one of the head bosses, one that loved boys young and eager to please a sugar daddy. If it had less of a chance of me getting shot, I took it. Then I met him, and he was essentially a toad. Not much taller than me, stress wrinkles, sores, yellow teeth... and he was so round in the belly that he looked six months pregnant. I was only allowed to call him Mr. Gable.
I had to parade around in whatever he asked, wherever he needed me to be. That meant from his apartment, office, bathhouse, club, and meetings. He at least had the courtesy of clothing me in front of bosses at meetings, but anywhere else meant silk undies in pinks, purples, reds, and blues. Sometimes a thong, sometimes a chastity or apron, but more often than not, naked with a full face of make up.
I won't lie... the make up made my knees weak...
Until this point, I hadn't let myself feel good about who called out to me inside. Dressing up was something I wanted to do privately... Before my life went downhill and I was sold to a toad that made me push the thoughts of being pretty away... Though with the money Mr. Gable had given me, the people and places I owed were less things to worry about. That was unless I refuse something he wanted to do.
Mr. Gable promised he'd listen to what I liked or didn't, promising that my body was still mine. Six months went by and he crept over the line of what he wanted, way past what we'd talked about. He held my balls in a vice, threatening to cut my throat and keep my limp body as a sex toy. One thing I hated was voyeurism, something that crept out from him day one. When I refused at his bathhouse, he stood up, looked back at his associates as he held up a finger, then smacked the fuck out of me with his ham of a fist.
Not a second later, he tore off the apron I'd had on, took a handful of my hair, and asked me to repeat myself. I did, my answer not changing. I heard the air of his arm reeling back but not for the swing at me. Only a voice that addressed him sternly.
"Hit him again and I'll show you what happens."
"You stay out of this." Mr. Gable grumbled at the mystery man. "This territory is mine, as is this bitch. I own her and do as I please."
"Your business is just that. In my presence, we do things in a civil manner. Not like animals. Because upstairs would have a lot to say."
When mystery man said that, Mr. Gable let go of my hair and sent me home for the night. I was used to what he'd do by that point... but someone stopping it was a shock to me. Who was the guy that stopped him? And would I feel the backlash of it when I was called to him again?
----
I found out later that night when Mr. Gable messaged me to come to his apartment. Entering, there were three men in the lobby, carefully directing me to a private elevator. On the way up, I was escorted by an armed guard to Mr. Gable's door, then let in by one of the higher ups I'd seen before. He smiled warmly, and it was... weird. These guys never smiled. Ever. Rounding the corner, more ranked members stood posted, another man in front of a draped chair.
He was in a red suit, black shirt, and white tie, trimmed grey beard and hair. When he started talking, a knot tied itself in my stomach when I realized it was the mystery man. Though it was the wrong time to acknowledge this, he was hot as fuck...
"Hi there dear. We haven't officially met but I wanted to do this in person. The man you were charged to has been relieved of that task. Consider it a gift..." He said with a gentle grin.
"But... why?" I finally said, mouth dry and body shaking.
Keeping his subtle smile, the man stepped forward. "Mr. Gable's been a problem for some time under our operations. He let some of the details on how you can into his ownership slip. Being the man I am, you seem better suited for myself and not a 'toad', I think his subordinates called him."
I bit my lip to not laugh. Even Mr. Gable's loyal crew thought he was a slimy toad. And that was an insult to toads. The sheet covering the chair wriggled around, making one of the posted higher ups smack what was moving, saying to shut the fuck up. Lifting a hand, mystery man took the sheet and pulled to reveal Mr. Gable, dressed in a little of everything he forced me to wear. Even the make up didn't make him look better.
Ripping the tape off of his mouth, mystery man addressed him.
"Got something to say Mr. Gable?"
"Fuck you and that pixie whore. He'll bend the knee to escape how good I was to him. With you, he'll be worse than dead."
Raising an eyebrow, mystery man reached a thumb under Mr. Gable's tongue, hooking the jaw and yanking forward. "Tsk tsk. And I thought you'd keep your mouth shut."
The mystery man started snapping his fingers, someone pulling out a gun and walking over to me. I flinched, thinking I would get shot. But I turned to see mystery man holding out a pair of silk gloves, pink and stitched with revenge on the palms. Frozen, he slipped them on my hands, his eyes seemed to glitter, showing hints of green though they were solid brown. Feeling the perfect fit of the gloves, I also could tell they were lined... As the gun was put in my hand, mystery man's smile made me shiver.
"Show him what he's worth."
"But Mister..." I said shyly.
"Shh. No more of that." He spoke reassuringly. "We'll sort things as you clean your past."
As he said that, it hit me. I was being given a chance to fuck with the pig that hurt me for almost eight months... And be taken in by a handsome stranger... But was there any truth to what Mr. Gable said about this guy? If he was dangerous. No matter how clouded my mind ended up, I was given a choice for the first time in what turned out to be forever. Killing meant I would be bound to whoever mystery man was... Yet even for a while, it was better than a lifetime with Mr. Gable.
Taking firm hold of the gun, mystery man stepped aside, letting me see Mr. Gable in his full toad pig glory. He went to say something but I didn't hear it over the sound of my first shot at his wrinkly pig dick. Following it up, his stomach bled and leaked, then it was the last to the head. Had I ever killed before? No. But this was a dream come true.
Lowering the gun, one of the men nearby took it from my hand and sealed it in a case, mystery man saying to melt the metal down. Another associate took the gloves off of me and mystery man put his jacket over my shoulders. Looking up at him, he kissed my forehead, making my trick knee tremble a bit.
"Ready to go home?" He whispered.
"Yes..." I whispered back while leaning into him.
