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“The Roses and Swine” was certainly a fitting name for a brothel in the Backstreets of T Corp. The grey, desaturated plastic roses sit underneath the sign which featured a cartoon pig in a corset with tits up to her double chin. It’s a respite for many a ruffian and even the discerning gentleman who wanted to get down and dirty with the ladies that work here, if the polished whores in the Nest weren’t doing it for him.
You are one such whore in The Roses and Swine. You’ve worked here for a couple of years now, not quite so fresh and naive but not as hardened as the older prostitutes that have been in here since who knows when. You have your regulars that come in from time to time, the occasional tourist, so you’re confident that you’ve seen most of what the city has to offer under the protections and rules that this particular brothel operates under. It’s not the most respectable place but there are bodyguards and rules in place to keep the whores safe and the more hardcore stuff must to be Reserved with special lads or ladies that are willing to cater to those darker fantasies.
It’s another night like any other but it’s been slow for you. Nobody had claimed you and that works out for you, taking it as a day to lounge around and look pretty, when a rambunctious crowd of men barrel into the establishment. Their clothes and the clubs they clutch in their fists immediately reveal that they belong to the Dead Rabbits. You exhale a tired sigh. Great… a Syndicate. And an upstart one at that. Hopefully, they don’t cause too much trouble.
“Oi! Where’s the Madame? I’m lookin’ for a right pretty piece of ass for the new lad ‘ere! Make ‘im a man!” A loud jovial voice cuts through the brothel, slurring a little, perhaps from some pints. The source of the yelling came from a large, heavy-set man in a trench coat with an arm wrapped around a slightly taller young man with dark skin and darker hair. His eyes from where you can see seem to be dark, almost black, in the monochrome world you’re accustomed to. He grabbed your attention since you thought he was the most handsome of the group of rough men even with the scars on his cheeks and his unkempt hair.
Your eyes meet his and he immediately looks away. You can’t tell if he is angry or… embarrassed? The peek of shyness from him immediately endears you to him and you can’t help but watch him and the men talk to the Madame of the house.
“Oh my, something for this handsome gentleman I see.” The Madame smokes from a long cigarette holder with the slightest golden details; the most expensive and colorful thing on her person. She blows aromatic smoke into the young man’s face. He coughs and scowls at her, lip fixed into a snarl like he is about to say something.
The large trench coat-wearing man pulls him back, however, and laughs. “You got it, missus! C’mon Heathcliff. Tell the lady what you want.”
The Madame smirks. “Please, do tell me what you’re interested in. Girls? Boys? Anything in between? I have it all here. Light hair, dark hair… Big tits, little tits, no tits… So what’s your poison, lad?”
The young man–Heathcliff, apparently–grumbles to himself for a moment and glares at the older woman. “I’m not bloody interested in anything.” His voice slurs. Seems he’s also had a few pints of his own.
Trench coat shoves Heathcliff playfully with a boisterous laugh. “Suuure, sure!” He turns to the Madame and procures a sack of cash. “Here, give the lad a lovely bird or whatever that you think can take what he dishes out.” The older woman takes the pouch, counts the bills and coins, and tucks it into her corset. “Fine.”
She turns and calls your name. You try to pretend you weren’t watching the entire scene play out and stumble over when you’re called. You find yourself tucking your hair behind an ear and brushing off any wrinkles in your skimpy outfit. You haven’t been this nervous about a client in a while. Heathcliff's burning, dark, almost tortured gaze made your heart aflutter.
You put on your brightest smile and bat your lashes at him “This here is a good one. Hasn’t been around long but has just enough experience to take whatever this gentleman wants with exceptions of course.” She points her cigarette at Heathcliff. “Doubt he’s into the ol’ whips and chains. You don’t got that look to ya, luv.”
You see Heathcliff’s face darken with a flush. Again, his teeth clench into a snarl, but before he could say anything scathing to the older woman his mate shoves him into you. He stumbles forward with a growl then looks down at you with a huff. You smile and gently take his hand. His hand is covered in little scars and is rough with callouses, large and warm.
“Come here. Let’s go somewhere private…” You gently tug him away from the whistles and the jeers coming from his associates as you ascend the stairs toward your room. His hand is limp in yours but he follows with a dejected slump to his shoulders.
In the room, it’s a facsimile of a rich, plush bedroom. The only thing betraying that it’s not some room in some manor is the lack of color and the cheap fabrics that are meant to be washed and replaced over and over. You pull Heathcliff to sit on the bed and stand in front of him. He doesn’t look at you.
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, luv.” You say as you place your hands on your hips with a gentle smile. “I can tell you’re nervous.”
He huffs and finally looks at you. “Nervous? I ain’t nervous or anything.”
“No? Then I suppose you don’t mind if I get comfortable?”
“Why would I–?” His words die in his throat as you slowly tug at the strings of your ridiculous corset. You make a show of peeling the skimpy clothing off your body and his eyes dart around like he’s unsure where to look on your body or to look away entirely. Soon, you’re bare before him and you step closer to him.
“It’s okay…” You whisper in the intimate space between you two. You take his hands and place them on your waist. “You can touch.”
Heathcliff looks conflicted. He chews on his lower lip as he stares at his scarred, rough hands on your waist. You realize that it’s not nervousness or anger that’s on his face. After your time working here, you’ve come across a whole variety of men by now and this look on his face…
“... You’ve never done this before, have you?” You whisper, gently, trying to sound as non-judgmental as possible.
His face darkens with a flush again. Maybe it’s the booze in his system or the intimate setting, but he doesn’t bite back with a scathing remark like it’s so obvious that he’s used to doing. He’s silent for a moment and then slowly nods. His expression saddens for just a blink, then he shakes his head. “No, I’ve done this plenty. Shagged all sorts of birds and the like!” His hands on your waist tighten and he lifts you up to toss you onto the bed. You gasp as your back makes an impact with the squeaking bed frame, looking up at Heathcliff with wide eyes.
He’s shrugged off his ragged jacket and unbuttons his shirt, revealing more tantalizing scarred skin and hardened muscle. His face is stuck into a frown as he looks down at you. He’s determined, like he’s accepting a challenge. “I’ll make ya feel real good. That’ll show ya to think I’m some blushing virgin.” He snarls out, undoing his pants just enough to pull out his half-hard cock.
He leans in and slots himself between your legs. You smile and wrap your legs around his waist to flip him over onto his back. Heathcliff blinks wide eyed with shock at the surprising show of strength then he smirks. “Really? You wanna play it like that?”
He grabs at you but you grab his hands to stop him and lean in to press a kiss to his jawline. Such a small, gentle kiss freezes him in place. You pull away just enough until your noses touch. “I do wanna play. Let me take care of you, darling. You ain’t gonna be shagging anyone with your cock like this and you gotta warm me up. It’s not gonna be good for either of us that way, ya know.”
Heathcliff’s nostrils flare and he huffs. “... Alright. Have at it then.” He leans back on the mattress and interlaces his fingers behind his head. You can’t help but admire the muscles on his arms and the way they flex with the movement, his pectorals shifting. The staring seems to make Heathcliff a little shy, his head turning away from your gaze with an annoyed huff like this is an inconvenience. Gentle hands trail over his body, each little scar told the story of a life full of strife and you find yourself leaning in to press your lips to a particularly nasty scar on his hip. A trail of kisses lead from his hip to his cock where you take a second to admire it. Even while semi-soft it’s tantalizingly thick and a decent length so far. You wrap your hand around him and slowly stroke, kneeling between his thighs.
Looking up at him from where you kneel, you press your lips to the tip and watch the muscles on his abdominals tighten at the sensation. Soft, painted lips press kisses all over the tip as you stroke the length of him until finally his cock stands tall and pre cum starts to leak. Your tongue chases after a drop of pre and you hear him grunt like he’d been punched in the gut. Realizing that your eyes closed at some point in your reverence of his cock, you blink your eyes open to look at him only to realize that his eyes were shut tight with his mouth curled in a tense grimace. Your ego stings a little bit, wanting him to gaze at you as you service him, but you’re used to this by now. Every now and then somebody comes in and uses your body as they imagine someone else.
You wonder who he’s imagining right now.
You slowly sink his cock into your mouth and suck, eliciting a surprised groan from Heathcliff. He fills your mouth so nicely that you feel your hole clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you elsewhere.
“F-Fuck...!” He gasps as you slowly take him into your throat, moaning yourself at the feeling and the taste. Your eyes slip closed as well as you start to get into the movement and the routine. Bob your head this way, twirl your tongue here, cradle his balls in your palm, swallow him down with a slutty moan. The sound of your voice makes him growl and he grabs your hair in his fist roughly.
“Sh-Shut up.” He says tensely as he shoves your head down hard enough onto his cock that you gag from surprise. His hips twitch and thrust in jerking motions that just prove to you his inexperience. He tries to fuck your face and succeeds for a while. Cock sliding in and out of your throat with wet gags from you and grunts from him, he thrusts roughly in his chase toward his orgasm, you suspect, but in his fervor, his cock presses against the inside of your cheek then slips out to slap onto your cheek.
You see his eyes snap open with surprise and he takes a good look at you since you first put your mouth on him. His built chest rises and falls with heavy breaths and you feel his cock twitch against your cheek. You turn your head and kiss it gently then smile up at him. “Want to get to the main attraction before you blow your load?”
—
You’re on your back with your ass half hanging off the edge of the bed, hips held aloft by Heathcliff’s large hands, and his cock rests against the crease of your inner thigh. The size of him fully erect and slick with your saliva makes your now-slicked hole clench again, and you bite your lip.
“C’mon… Just put it in. Take your time… Or don’t. I can take it.”
He huffs and smirks a little as though amused at you. “Yeah, yeah…” Holding you with one hand, his other hand takes the base of his cock to aim it properly toward your hole. He taps the fat tip against you a couple of times and you whine at the tease. His smirk widens and finally, he presses in and in and in. His cock fills you just as you imagined and you moan shakily. His hands are tight on your hips and you find yourself hoping that he leaves bruises.
“Oh fuck! Sh-Shit!” Heathcliff immediately starts thrusting at a fast pace like a man possessed, without any warning. It’s selfish and it almost hurts and you find that you love it, moaning like the whore you are as he lays claim to your insides. “Th-Thought it’d be loose but you’re bloody tight as hell, fuck!” he mutters like it’s pissing him off how hot and tight you are around his cock.
Wet slaps of skin on skin sound off in the room, adding a vulgar beat to the squeaking of the cheap bed frame, your moans, and his groans. Rough hands pull your hips into each of his thrusts, the force of it nudging the tip of his cock into the depths of your insides so hard that it makes your eyes roll back into your head. He’s still got his pants hanging off his hips and you find yourself wishing that there was a mirror in the room for you to watch the muscles on his back flex as he thrusts into you over and over.
You grip the cheap bed sheets and throw your head back with a loud moan. Despite the man’s apparent inexperience, his aggressive enthusiasm and fat cock light up your nerves with such intense pleasure. You try to wrap your legs around his waist but he grabs you by the thighs instead to spread you open wide, the extra space driving his cock just that much deeper into your hole with a wet squelch. It’s enough to make you blush just how wet you feel.
“O-Oh! Oh Heathcliff! Right there!” You moan and guide him and this time he didn’t seem to mind your voice, instead groaning right along with you. His eyes stare at your face with an intensity that almost makes you shy while he bends you in half to drive his cock harder into you. You shudder and practically shake apart with your orgasm and Heathcliff’s thrusts stutter to a stop as your hole clenches around his cock like it’s trying to milk him.
He grits his teeth with a low growl and you think maybe he came as well, especially when he pulls his cock out of your hole with a wet noise. One look however reveals to you that he’s still hard. A scarred hand grips the base of his cock and he practically glares down at you. “I.. ain’t done yet.”
—
Heathcliff shoves your face into the cheap bed sheets and your gasping mouth drools onto it. His hips meeting your ass is loud in the room but not as loud as the slap he lands onto the cheek of your ass, making you shriek. You started on all fours but now you’re being mounted like a bitch with your face down and ass up for Heathcliff to fuck.
“That’s it, take it whore.” He growls out through clenched teeth, hand fisted in your hair while the other grips your hip to yank you into his thrusts. He’s a quick learner it seems. He’s managed to learn how to drive his cock into the spots that make you moan the loudest and has learned that you shake and shudder with your orgasm.
You’ve cum twice now. Your nerves are fried with pleasure.
Heathcliff lands another smack onto your ass then grips the flesh to spread you open. You almost feel his gaze linger on how your hole stretches around his cock as his hips work like a piston. “Damn… Bet it’ll be red…” He mumbles, tracing the seam where your hole clenches around him. Your mind wanders for a brief moment, wondering if this man must’ve had money before to comment on the color of something like that.
But your thoughts scatter as he picks up the pace again. “Fuck, I think this is it..! Wh-Where do I–?” His thrusts stutter and you swear you can feel his cock throb inside you like he’s about to cum any moment.
“I-Inside! Please, breed me!” You cry out, pushing your hips back into his thrusts.
Heathcliff leans down to press his chest to your back as he chases his orgasm, groaning like a dying man as he drives into you one last time with a devastating, grinding thrust. He unleashes rope after rope of hot cum and it feels like he hasn’t stopped cumming. You feel his cum leak out as he thrusts again like he’s trying to drive his cum deeper into your insides. That’s enough to send you hurtling into your third orgasm of the night.
He collapses on top of you and you don’t have the energy to complain about the extra weight so all you do is whine pathetically like a wounded animal. You feel so full of him. Of his cum. You wonder if he’ll come see you again.
This is a thought that lingers long after he pulls his softening cock out of your abused hole. After he dresses himself while refusing to look at you like he’s shy about the act you two have just committed. You notice he keeps staring at the wet spot on the mattress from where he made you cum and gush again and again.
You lead him to the door and press a kiss to his cheek with a soft smile. “Come back anytime, love. I had a lovely time, Heathcliff.” You say, giggling.
He grumbles, back to his gruff and melancholy self. “S’alright, I suppose. I’ll make sure Matt tosses the Missus a tuppence for ya as a tip or something.” He shrugs his coat back on and looks down at you, clad in a robe but still looking freshly fucked. He stares for a second then walks out the door.
You watch him leave then you turn to enter the bathroom to wash up.
Something bothers you though. And the events of tonight with the handsome Heathcliff linger in your mind more than any client ever has before. You find yourself drawn to him, to the complexities of this young man with dark eyes that seem to look both at you and through you. You recall something as you carefully clean your hole out of his cum.
When he came, he muttered something into your hair. He sounded like he was in pain even after he pumped you full.
You swear you heard a name.
“... Cathy…”