I sat down at my usual seat in the bar, smiling happily as I glanced around the room, seeing a few familiar faces. Actually, most of the faces were at least vaguely familiar, I’d probably slept with all of them, but I never remembered who they were. As much as I wished I did sometimes, I was always too drunk or drugged to remember.

Chuckling to myself at my own weakness, a movement near me caught my eye. Glancing over to my right, I spotted a man I hadn’t seen before, or I at least didn’t recognize him through the dark and the haze of the bar. He was actually quite good looking from what I could see, but he didn’t seem like the type I’d trust.

Moving to get up and leave, I found I couldn’t. I glanced down at my arm and saw someone was holding it. Following the hand up to the arm and then up to a face, I bit my lip, swearing quietly under my breath. This one I recognized. This one had been helping Eten the time that he came here to find me, and from the looks of it, he was helping the unfamiliar one across the bar, now.

Sighing in irritation, I sat down once again, waving the man off and half smiling at him when he warily let go of my arm. I watched as the man from the corner walked over. Looking him up and down I tried to commit his appearance to memory. About an inch shorter than I was and pretty pale; actually, abnormally pale, quite unnatural looking. Red hair and dark eyes, almost black. He was even thinner than I was, and a bit more feminine, too, which surprised me. Usually the guys who hit on me were not, the “little girly” type.

Chewing my lip, I realized he had a bottle of what was most likely beer, in his hand. I winced as the man on my left grabbed my arm again, and another man came up on my right, grabbing the other wrist; he’d been with Eten too. Glaring at the red-head, I was incredibly tempted to kick him where it would assure me he would never get any from anyone again, but I was a bit worried I’d have my wrists broken if I tried. Which was irritating. It’s not like I’d ever tell him no, so what was the point in the thugs? Probably afraid he’d break a nail or something.

Laughing quietly, he walked over and tipped the bottle to my lips, forcing me to drink the stuff, gagging slightly as I did so. He grinned at me, looking so very much like a cat who’d gotten the milk, and I figured he might as well be purring in pleasure.

When the bottle was finally empty, he pulled it away, planting a light kiss on my cheek. Jerking his head towards the door, the red-head turned and walked away. His two thugs dragged me out, with me muttering curses under my breath and following as slowly as I could manage. As much as I normally didn’t despise (entirely), what I did here, this guy scared me. I always thought one night I’d probably crawl into bed with someone dangerous and not realize it. Get myself killed. But, it’s not as if I’d have a choice anyways.

My life reads like the classifieds.
Pages of what's for sale; what's on the auction block.
"Attention bidders! It's Lot 45.
He's got a decent voice, he's got that crooked smile.
Hold on, you haven't heard the best yet.
He writes good storylines, he's got those honest eyes.
So take him home for just 9.95.
He'll sing the songs you like, he'll keep you warm at night."…

When we got outside, they walked me over to a smallish grey car, one of the men taking both of my wrists in his hands, the other gagging me with a strip of black cloth and binding my wrists in front of me with another. Grinning, they shoved me into the back, causing me to wince as I hit the seat, squirming to a sitting position and curling against the door as it closed behind me, locking.

Looking down at my wrists (where I could actually see them around the cloth), and becoming very glad they didn’t blindfold me like most did, I saw large bruises already forming there. Sighing and chewing slightly on the cloth tied around my mouth, I stared out the window, trying to memorize the streets as they whizzed by, but my mind was becoming foggy from the beer and I soon forgot why I had been worried.

Chuckling quietly to myself, I leaned forward in my seat so that I could speak to the red-head, who was driving. “Name?” My speech sounded odd to my own ears. Too much slurring for just one bottle of beer, but I ignored that fact, too focused on finding out if the man had a name. Since he probably did, just by my deductive reasoning, I should probably find out what that handy little thing was.

He laughed, and to my surprise, it sounded nice to me. He turned his head just the tiniest bit so that I could see his face. “James,” he responded with a grin. “And, I don’t really think I need to know yours, whore.”

I glared, just a tad less happy than I had been before. I hated when people called me that. It wasn’t true, and…and I wasn’t…

Soon though, I didn’t even remember what’d ruined my mood. The only thing I could think about was the obnoxiousness of the cloth tying me up. I wanted to reach out and touch him, see if that hair was as soft as it looked, also, that cloth really itched, and was starting to get on my nerves. Though, what I really wanted was to be out of this car and into someplace where I could move about, someplace I could see what I was doing; who I was doing…oh, whatever.

It must have been my lucky day, too, because the car soon pulled over at a surprisingly large hotel. But, as we got closer, I saw that we were pulling into a smaller motel beside it. The car shut off and James got out, making me pout in disappointment. Soon though, the look was wiped off my face as the door behind me opened and I fell backwards out of the car, rolling over and laying flat on my back in the parking lot. Wincing, I tried to sit back up, feeling a slight throbbing in the back of my head, realizing just barely, that I was probably bleeding. I thought about turning around and running, or yelling for help…but it was me we were talking about here, no one would ever help. No one would come. Why bother trying and just getting myself hurt more? Besides. I would probably trip with my coordination, anyways.

Back down, cash out, that's the city for ya.
Break down and back out, and get what's coming to you.
When you said you were falling apart
I thought you meant that you were falling apart…

Again, my mind went blank. Though, this time was because of a burst of pain caused by James pulling my to my feet by my own hair. Yelping and clinging to his neck as I wavered, legs nearly giving out underneath me, he wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, kissing my cheek almost lovingly. “Can’t walk, can you, love?”

Sighing, I shook my head, chewing my lip. This wasn’t normal. I couldn’t think…couldn’t move. My rational mind was screaming something at me, but I was too buzzed to notice what it was. So, I just clung tightly to James as he pulled me along, into the motel, down a hallway and into a room.

He shoved me down onto a bed, grinning and flipping me so I was on my back. Sitting on me, straddling my hips, James leaned down, kissing my cheek. I shuddered, causing him to grin, and me to curse my sensitivity when I was drunk. He grabbed my wrists and untied them for just long enough to pull my shirt up and off over my head, making me wince as I smacked back down onto the mattress. He grabbed the cloth again and tied my wrists back up, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out another, longer, piece of cloth. Dragging me up to the top of the bed, he tied my wrists to the headboard, by the rope around them.

I fidgeted, shuddering at the anticipation, and yet wishing I were anywhere but here. Wishing I were home, with Max, on another planet, at work for all I cared. Just not here. I didn’t want to be doing this right now, just a few days after Max had told me he loved me…it felt wrong.

Though, that hand sliding down my chest, and that mouth sucking on my nipple, really didn’t feel all that wrong. I gasped in shock as the feelings finally kicked in, as I felt the intense waves of pleasure coursing through me. Though it was mixed with pain, but no one ever accused me of not being a masochist.

He suddenly bit my collarbone, hard enough to make it bleed, and simultaneously stroked me lightly through my now, much too tight jeans, making me moan and buck up against him. Tipping my head back, I gave him easier access, though he decided to pursue a different path. Tracking down my chest and stomach, he bit hard, licking over each of the slightly bleeding, stinging wounds as he passed. Finally reaching my pants, he stroked me lightly again, causing me to gasp and moan, closing my eyes and biting my lip, trying hard to keep my hips still.

I'm not the type to forget about nights like this,
when every single move that I make is documented and scored for style points.
The once ambitious one now holds the smoking gun.
And if I die in my sleep, are you still willing to be everything you promised you would be…?

The bastard was obviously torturing me as much as he could, I would know, I’d experienced it enough times before. He ran his hands up the insides of my thighs, making me shudder and bite my lip hard again to keep silent. He slowly undid my pants, sliding them down while running his hands over my legs teasingly. Hooking his thumb in the edge of my boxers, he pulled those off too, grinning at me as he did so, watching me fight to keep my control. Though, I had no idea why I was even trying. I knew it wouldn’t help. I mean, I couldn’t keep a train of thought for more than a few seconds, let alone enough time to ignore sensations like these.

And then there was the fact that said sensations were breaking up my attempted train of though. How was I supposed to make the feelings go away, when the idiot kept teasing me like this?

I was vaguely aware that he’d rolled me over onto my stomach, but I wasn’t quite sure, since I’d closed my eyes. You’d think I’d be able to feel it, but my entire body was tingling, and I was rather disoriented from the alcohol anyways. Though, one sensation broke through the buzz. The feeling of something moving inside me.

He’d pressed in three fingers before I finally realized what he was doing, and when my mind truly registered what was happening, he’d already slammed his hips up to meet mine, making me wince. And it didn’t let up at all. He kept on like that for…I had no idea how long. Just kept slamming up, occasionally turning my head. himself and kissing me.

Eventually though, he finished. Pulling away and laying down next to me, he untied my wrists from the headboard, but left them tied together. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he sighed in contentment as I tried to catch my breath.

Eventually though, the alcohol started wearing off, and I calmed down, snuggling against him. But I started realizing some odd things. For example: he was freezing. Unusual? Yeah. Also, his face looked incredibly familiar to me, but the alcohol was getting in the way of me remembering it completely. Soon though, I figured it out.

The recognition dawned on me, and I was frozen with shock, but before I could do anything, he hit me over the head and I passed out. Last thing I heard, was him muttering in my ear as I slipped into the blackness. Something that sounded remarkably like, “Nighty, night, Errol. Sleep well, love.”

Back down, cash out, that's the city for ya.
Break down and back out, and get what's coming to you.
When you said you were falling apart
I thought you meant that you were falling apart…

Curled up and bleeding on the unfamiliar bed, I whimpered softly as I woke up, realizing I was completely alone. Shuddering, I tried to sit up and winced, only now feeling the pain shooting out in waves from the various cuts and bruises I had. I glanced over to the only piece of furniture in the hotel room, noticing a phone on the table. Rubbing my sleep hazed eyes and wincing at the pounding in my head foretelling a bad hangover, I reached out for the phone. But, I paused halfway to touching it. I mean really, it’s not like Max had a phone that I could call, and no one else would care.

Seriously…who would I call out to for help, now…?

Will you be the first one to tell the neighborhood paper
and all my family and friends that still care?
Did you buy what I sold and did you feel what I told you?
I hope that you still do. Will you promise yourself, that this isn't all we've got…?

Standing up, I winced, grabbing a small slip of paper off the night table, I almost fell over as I realized what it was. It was a check…for two hundred dollars. There was a note beside it on the table. “Thanks for the night, love.”

Blinking in confusion, I stared at the two things, shaking my head and sighing. Judging by the fact that I couldn’t remember a thing…the ass drugged me. Glaring at the check, I got up, dressed, and stormed out, breaking more than a few things in the process. I used the check to pay for the room, telling the clerk to keep the hundred and fifty dollars of change. I didn’t want to be a whore, but if I was going to be one…I wasn’t going to get paid for it. I’d rather die than admit what I was becoming.

And the worst part of all this…?
Back down, cash out, that's the city for ya.
Break down and back out, and get what's coming to you.
When you said you were falling apart
I thought you meant that you were falling apart…

I couldn’t even remember that jackass’s name.