Roulette

Part 1

 When Mark left for his appointment that evening, he was a bit apprehensive. First of all, his client refused to use her surname when booking his services, only registering as Deborah - not something against his policies, but still a red flag. She also demanded they use a run-down apartment on the less-than-pretty side of town.

Mark, however, was not paid to ask questions. As long as this client didn't have any too weird kinks (and he had seen quite a few weird kinks in his line of work), and he got paid his money, he was fine with whatever.

As he walked down the street, he couldn't help but notice all the eyes on him. Of course, after a year in his line of work, he was used to the stares. There were two kinds of people looking at him - those who knew what he was and insulted him in their minds for it, some out loud; and there were those who were ready to pay for his services. He didn't care for the former, and he couldn't blame the latter. After all, at age twenty-one, he considered himself a veritable Doryphoros. Every inch of his golden body looked as if it were sculpted. He had the perfect face, the perfect muscles, the perfect brown hair, the perfect piercing blue eyes. He was an anomaly, and he knew it. But he was used to it now. He was just a man, living his life as best as he could.

As he approached the block of flats, the doorman held the door for him - something Mike figured was only a luxury for select people. He looked back at the doorman, whose eyes seemed to be on the golden man's open chest. Mike gave him a wink before turning and walking away. Perhaps he had found his next client.

The apartment was on the highest floor, at the end of the corridor. Mike thought this only added to the oddness of this all, but then, he had already decided to ignore it all. He raised his hand to knock but noticed the door was already open. He pushed through and walked inside, wondering what his client would look like.

The woman in front of him was, to put it in one word, beautiful. She looked old. Mike guessed she was in her forties, but her dark skin was almost flawless, save for a few scars on her arms, and her long hair was done in locks. She only wore a robe that perfectly outlined her figure. Her eyes were brown and seemed to stare into his soul. Mike couldn't quite place it, but he thought he saw a mischievous glint in her eyes. As he studied her, he knew immediately that she would be the one taking the reigns during this session, and he was absolutely fine with it. It had been a while since he had had a client whom he was looking forward to enjoying his time with, rather than just looking forward to the money.

"This is a pleasant surprise," he said.

"What?" Deborah laughed a deep, beautiful laugh. "Were you expecting an old hag?"

"No no," he said, "It's just that, I must say, I'm looking forward to this."

"I'm suitably flattered," she said. "What can I say?" she spoke in a sultry voice as she slipped off her robe, revealing her naked body. Mike saw a couple more scars, but apart from that, she was perfect. "Black don't crack."

Mike didn't know when his clothes came off. Soon enough, Deborah was on top of him, riding him, moaning and grunting. After a few heavenly moments of this, she got off him, walked to the cupboard, and opened it to reveal an array of tools that Mike would have described more as weapons than pleasure givers. The whips had spikes on them. The pinchers were pointy.

"Um?" Mike asked.

Deborah laughed, but this time, it wasn't deep. It had a mischievous undertone to it. Mike suddenly noticed he was sweating profusely. The fear was almost enough to make him soft, but he didn't dare for fear of what she would do to him.

Who is this woman?

"Don't worry, darling," she said, "I'll make sure to use all of these on you. But first," She bent down, opening a secret cabinet. She removed an object. It was small and metal, but Mike couldn't quite make it out...