NSFW'S Tales - Arc 1: Don't break hearts - Chapter 1: Predator

I don’t have many rules that I follow during my travels here.
Don’t fall in love.
Don’t get attached.
Remember what you came for.
But most importantly:
Don’t break hearts.

The bar, Dante’s, was full of smoke. Not cigarette smoke, but the machine kind. The kind that would let you smell like you’ve been sitting right next to a fire all night. But I was used to worse. And, to be fair, I enjoyed that smell way too much to even care. The music was loud and obnoxious, a heavy, deep, and fast bass rhythm that provokes the people in this place to rub their bodies. The women to grind on the dicks of the guys they were dancing with, the men, to touch where they have not permission yet.
Not a place where you would find me on the dance floor, but a place where you could find me easily at the bar. Nothing better than a man who wanted to dance with you, and the pleasure to deny precisely that.
I actually took some time till I found what I was looking for within the mess of humans piling up to get some overpriced liqueur. Short brown hair, styled like over half of the other men in here. Skinny jeans and a scarlet shirt, fitting to the dress I was wearing. A pretty face, but cold, analytical eyes. His muscles were just defined enough to leave a visible trace beneath the thin fabric. Understandably, that a lesser woman would fall for that. I stood right next to him without asking permission, by tapping the shoulder of the gentleman on his side, and he, gladly, without skipping a beat, gave me his place. There was no reason to interact with ‘Scarlet’ yet, no reason to speak. He would most definitely do it for me.
I raised my hand a smidge to show that I would like to order a drink. And just a couple of seconds later I got asked: 
“What can I get you?”
It wasn’t the barkeep, though. It was Scarlet, his eyes already fixated on my body, wandering down to my hips, and the thighs you could barely see. If I would just stand a little bit differently, the slit in my long dress would expose them... But I didn’t.
A brief, cold smile and a “Nothing, thank you.” Was all he got from me. He accepted his defeat, at least for the time being. His body turned away to the bar again, but I could feel the glance through his periphery. It didn’t take long till the barman took my order. 
“Glenfiddich, no Ice.” Scarlet turned to me and feigned surprise. 
“Glenfiddich, really? That actually is my personal favorite as well!” Of course it was. “One for me as well, both on my tab, dear friend,” he told the barmen and smiled at me. “It’s a really good drop of Whiskey,” he explained pretentiously.
“Yes, that’s why I ordered it.” My reaction was colder than the one before, and my smile even smaller. I made sure he would see me roll my eyes while turning back. Did he flinch a bit? Not sure, but his ego did take a hit. The barkeep put down the two glasses and took the money from Scarlet, who hadn’t even realized that I had neither money in my hand, nor any place to store it. Typical man. Always gawking, never seeing. I winked to the barkeep with a sweet smile. Then I made my way from the bar, making sure to turn in the opposite direction of Scarlet. I still felt his stares and hurt pride on my back when I did one of the most essential parts of the evening. I stopped, just for a second, and turned to him briefly. A drop of hot hope, on a cold, cold stone. Then I took my place at a conveniently empty table in a dark corner in the club. The women sitting there, just seconds before, wouldn’t know why all of them decided in the exact same second to leave, but they did, and I wouldn’t say that I minded it at all.

A couple of hours later, Scarlet was sitting next to me. His hand rested on my leg, his fingers just barely touching the slit in my dress, hoping to feel some flesh beneath. And when he moved in to whisper something mundane in my ear, that he thought was clever and sexy, his hand finally made it past this fabric barrier. But all he could feel were my stockings underneath his fingertips.
I fucking love stockings. They are one of the sexiest things you can wear, by merely obscuring your body, just by a tiny bit. Not letting them see, not allowing them to feel what they would like, gives you so much control.
Apropos control, I never permitted him to do anything of what he was doing right then. The only thing I did was not interject. I barely spoke at all, I never smiled beside the cold illusion of politeness. I didn’t answer any question with more words than absolutely necessary. I only took the drinks he brought to the table without even asking me, in a desperate attempt to make me drunk. And still, he thought he was making progress. He was wrong, though. I was the one making progress. For the first time this evening, I touched him, laid my hand on his face, and turned it so I could now whisper in his ear. 
“Scarlet,” He had told me his name, but I feigned not knowing it anyways. “You don’t even know my name.” At first, his fingers didn’t move, then he pushed them deeper, down to my inner thighs, and grabbed them with a light force.
“Do I need to?” he asked with a smirk. Another cold smile, then I stood up, the last whiskey on the table untouched. 
“Good night, Scarlet.” He could not follow me through the crowd, and before he reached the door, I was long gone.
At least for this night.

I came back the day after. I had to. I made sure his last night would end in a frustrating drag, and this one was not allowed to be different. It was the same club, the same music, the same smell. It didn’t even take long before he appeared next to me at the bar. 
“Wasn’t nice of you to just vanish like that, my dear.” I didn’t answer and ignored him still. He managed to get a grip of the barkeep. “Two Glenfiddich, no ice.” The glasses were quickly served. Scarlet shoved one of them over to me. 
“So, what do you say? We find a silent corner in here, and then you can-” 
“What makes you think I would like to drink that?” He stared at me in bewilderment.
“But you did yesterday.” I nodded, 
“Yes. Yesterday,” and tapped against a Martini glass that was standing slightly to my side. I downed it and shoved his Whiskey glass back. “Bring me one of those, then we can talk.”
He did. Slightly annoyed, but he did. And we talked. He finally asked me for my name, and I told him the truth, Natt Serene Fiona Williams, but today he could call me Serene. 
“Then why don’t you call me by my name, Serene?” I smiled at him.
“I don’t think so. Scarlet will be just fine.” He laughed back. 
“Okay, then how about I call you-” 
“Serene. I already told you.”
“But I thought-” He wanted to explain himself, but I cut him off again. 
“No buts. Serene, or I’ll leave.” I could see the resistance rise within. He wasn’t used to being talked to like that. Just you wait, I’ll break you, he thought. But all he said was what I wanted him to. 
“Ok, Serene.” I stood up, and he protested. “Hey, where are you going, I did what you asked of me, after all!” I nodded. 
“To your place, I guess. So, come on now. Don’t leave me waiting.” And, ignorant of what was heading his way, he stood up with a smile.

His apartment was exactly what I expected from a man with too much money and not enough commitment. Too much white, too much black, a TV that was too big and a kitchen that was way too clean for it being used. I liked the liquor selection, though. I took a seat on his white leather couch and watched him prepare me a drink. Today he did not go for the red shirt, but a black one with a similar design. 
“I don’t like that you are wearing black. You shouldn’t.” He laughed, thinking that I was joking. 
“Why is that, love?” I stood up and walked in the direction of his door. 
“Hey, where are you going?” I did not answer. Then it clicked by him. “Ah, shit. I get it! Serene. Sorry! I won’t do it again.”
I stopped and took a long look into his eyes. Brown ones, nothing special, aside from their inherently cold nature. He looked a bit sheepish, didn’t want to lose the price he'd worked so hard for already. I nodded and went back to his couch. 
“You better not.” It was just too easy. He was already addicted to a drug he never tasted, was willing to make sacrifices to his own free will, just to get some tail. He invested a lot of money and time in me already. What a shame if that would go to waste.
“So,” he repeated, “why exactly don’t you like it that I am wearing black?”
“People will be confused about why I am calling you Scarlet. And I loathe explaining myself.” I gave him a hard look while I said that. He got flustered for a moment, not knowing if I was making a joke or not. He decided that he should act like it was one, but still follow the lead.
“The next time we meet, I want you to wear red. Understood?” 
“What makes you think that there will be a next time? What if I’m not interested after this night?” I laughed. It was the first laugh he got from me. He couldn’t know. It was hard to resist. Not because of my looks, even though the red hair and green eyes fulfilled a lot of common fetishes. No, it was a mix between my demeanor and my smell. People always want what they can’t have. They needed hope, but nothing more. And the pheromones did the rest, so he was already lost to me. He just didn’t know yet.
He brought me a Martini. The same one I was drinking all night. I did not take it and just gave him a disappointed look. 
“What makes you think I would like to drink that?”
“But, you drank it the whole night! I thought that-”
“You see, that is the problem. Don’t think. Know. And if you don’t know, ask.” This was the point where he got angry. But losing this night with me, just because I was a bitch about my drinks? Not worth it. He would fuck me, maybe even a couple of times, brag about it, and then forget me, just like the rest of the women in his life. Just like her. So there was no point in making a scene about this. He apologized with a fake smile and asked me what I wanted.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Not that. Surprise me.” He blinked angrily but got back to work.

I liked watching him. I understood why she fell for him. The strong arms he presented me by rolling up the sleeves, the broad shoulders, his confidence. There was a lot to like about him if you were looking for a good catch. The money wouldn’t hurt either, and, according to her, he could be charming if he wanted to. I didn’t care about any of that. Neither did I care about him. Just remember what you came for. I took the glass he was giving me, took a sip, and declined. 
“No. That is not it.”
Saying that I took no pleasure in tormenting him slightly would be a lie. There was so much more I was planning to do, and even more that I was hired to do. Whereby, hired wasn’t the right word. We made a deal. She asked me to do something for her, and later on, I would get a little favor. I reckon that he wouldn’t even remember her when she would spit in his face.
I declined another drink. 
“No, you know what? You were right at the beginning, let me take the martini. But a fresh one. With lemon.” He clenched his teeth as he went back to work, thinking about how he would get his revenge later on. He thought about bending me over and fucking me from behind. Spanking me, pulling my hair. Showing me his dominance by shoving his cock down my throat. He thought about choking me with it, and how my makeup would get smeared through my tears. I could feel his joy in those thoughts and see his erection through his skinny pants.
Glad he thought like that about me, that would make everything to come so much more deserved. He was the kind of man that thought that you couldn’t rape someone as soon as they would start having sex with you. So he would play my game, until we were in the middle of everything, and then slowly turn everything up to 11. I took the Martini, and nodded to his crotch. 
“Glad you enjoy working for me. Seems like we will get along just fine.” He smiled again and chortled a bit, though in his head, he added how it would feel to slap me in my face later. I wasn’t worried, though. He wouldn’t even come to that point to try. He finally took place next to me and put his arm around me by resting it on the couch. 
“So,” he said, “tell me more about you, what do you do when you're not ordering people around to make your drinks?” 
“Don’t be boring,” I answered. “Neither of us cares about that, do we? Tell me, why did you bring me here?” He defensively raised his hand. 
“I don’t know what you're talking about. I just want to know more about you.” I frowned. 
“Don’t lie to me, boy.” He smirked.
“Well, okay. If you insist. I wouldn’t mind if we had sex today.” ‘Had sex’ was an interesting way to put pulling my hair until I cry and ramming himself into my ass. I shrugged. 
“Yes, that is what I thought. But, I am not convinced if we really should now.” His expression was puzzled for a moment, then he tightened his grip and pulled me to him. I let it happen.
“What do you mean, Ba-… Serene. Don’t you think I can bring it?” I nodded. 
“Exactly. So, feel free to prove it. Convince me you are worth my time, Scarlet.” He thought he had won even though he hadn't. I let him lean in and kiss my neck. 
“With pleasure.”, he whispered. His pride was his downfall. By giving me the power to decide if he was good or not, he maneuvered himself into a position of dependency. Surely, he was convinced, I wouldn’t stand any chance to withstand his charm and technique. But little did he know how mediocre he was in reality. If you could describe him as such at all. Sub-par was probably the better phrase to use.
His kisses were sloppy, his fingers too rough and too weak at the same time. He didn’t take time to explore my body at all, he just touched whatever he felt like touching. Never start by fondling breasts. That is some basic shit, my boy.
I didn’t move, just let him do his thing, sometimes taking a sip from the martini he'd made. 
“This one is all right, by the way.” Way better than his foreplay game. He grabbed my thigh again, and I knew he wanted to start fingering me. Already. What a joke. 
“Okay, you know what?” First I slapped his hand away. Then I got some distance between him and me by pushing him away with my palm on his chest. “That was not it, chief.” He wanted to protest, but I silenced him by putting my finger on his lips. “I'll give you one more chance, though. If that works out, maybe we can still get something going tonight.” I got on my feet, turned around, and put my foot on his chest, pressing my stiletto a bit deeper into it than necessary. But he would accept it because this feeling came with a perk. I was wearing a smaller dress today, so short that it rolled itself up in this position, and gave away a look at my pantyless vulva. His eyes were fixated on it. 
“What do you want, Serene?” he asked.
“Eat me, boy.” I smiled. I released him from my foot, set it down on the couch, and pulled his head between my legs.

To nobody's surprise, his tongue game was pretty bad as well. Probably even worse than his rushed fondling before. But, if I were honest, he could have been a tongue maestro of a different plane, and it wouldn’t make a difference. I wasn’t here for my pleasure. At least not that kind.
I let him do his thing and listened to his thoughts, and in there lay the most prominent problem; He wasn’t concentrating on his task, but already thinking about me sucking his dick. A pleasure he’d never get, but he wouldn’t know, nor could he imagine a woman resisting his magnificent cock. His thoughts, not mine.
I let him lick me lazily, making sure that every time he tried to get away from my crotch, I would press him back in right away. I was in control, and he had to know it. He didn’t like it, but was convinced he could change the dynamic later on, and besides, if I was so unwilling to let him go, he must be amazing. Oh, sweet summerchild, how wrong you were. I yawned loudly, and he pulled his head back in an abrupt motion. 
“What the fuck, woman. Did you just yawn?” I nodded, pulling my leg back to the ground, and fixed my dress. 
“Yes. I was bored.” Finally, he couldn’t hide his anger anymore and jumped up. 
“What do you mean you were bored?!” Cockily I put my head to the side. 
“Well, you were boring. Your cunnilingus is sub-par, you know? I've had so. Much. Better.” His pride broke into shambles and gave way to the rest of his fury. 
“Oh yeah? Then come over and take my dick, that is everything but ‘sub-par,’ I promise.” All of his thoughts got so much more violent, all because he did not understand that he had lost this power game before he knew it even started. So I just waved him away and picked up the Martini again. 
“Don’t bother. You killed the mood thoroughly already. I am going home now.” I took a sip, and interrupted his answer with a “But, you know what? Your martini is okay. And you are not a completely lost cause. So I am willing to give you a second try. Just don’t fuck it up again.”
Now, everything came together. My looks, the pheromones, the sunken cost, and his shattered pride - he thought: I will prove to her how good I am. If you ever wondered how to break in your pet? That is how.
I finished my drink. 
“See you around, Scarlet.” And with that, I went to the door.
“What do you think you're doing, just cucking me like that?” Oh, dear boy. You don’t know what cuckoldry is. Even though that wasn’t a bad idea. I was sure I could arrange something there.
“What I am doing, my dear? Going home and finishing your job myself.” I opened the door, stepped out, turned around - “probably myself.” - and closed it, leaving the most frustrated man in this city alone in his apartment.
This was a good day, I thought as I stepped out of his house, and into another plane.

We met the next day again. He wouldn’t accept that he went into Dante’s to see me, but I knew that it was true. It would be a short meet-up though, he had messed up even before he stepped into the club.
“What is this?” I asked him, putting my hand on his shoulder and turning him to me. He looked at me sheepishly. 
“What… what do you mean?” I glared at him.
“I told you to wear red. This isn’t red, not even pink. What are you thinking? This is strike Number one, boy.” He puffed up. 
“Come on, Serene, you can’t be serious.” My glare intensified. 
“Congratulations. You messed up again. What makes you think I want to be called Serene?” His sheepishness intensified as well. 
“But, yesterday… I thought…”
“Yes! Yes-ter-day. I already told you: Don’t think. Know. And if you don’t know. Ask.” His eyes narrowed. There was a limit he could take, and that limit was reached. 
“You know what?" He growled. "Fuck you. No pussy is worth this trouble.” I just smiled.
“Sounds like you think you can find someone else to bear your fuck-ups.”
Without answering directly, he just turned away and mumbled something along the lines of 'I’ll show this stupid bitch.'

He tried, and he failed spectacularly. He tried the proven method of talking to every woman in the club until one was interested. It wasn’t that hard to find some, he had the looks for it, and it was late enough to get some drunk women to notice him. But every time he did, I intervened. Sometimes it was from afar, by twisting little things he said in their heads. Sometimes, I got close and cockblocked him by being a better catch than him, as soon as he turned away to get a drink. I made sure to use a different form, though, so he at least thought he lost to another man. But for the last one, I did something special.
I let him get far. Really far. He was already getting her jacket, and when he came back. I was there. Talking to her, laughing, smiling. I nodded in his direction and questioned her. 
“So, you wanna go home with him?” She was a bit shy but nodded anyway. “I wouldn’t. I did it yesterday. And he was a HUGE… well, rather small let down.” She snickered, he tried to speak, but for some reason he couldn’t fathom, no words were able to come out.
“You know,” I said, “he kissed my neck, like this.” And I leaned in, and kissed her. Sloppy, like he did, just for a moment though. She was visibly unimpressed.
“So…” she asked me, “who would you recommend then?” I smiled, took her hand, and put it on my chest, right upon my heart. 
“I’ll be worth your while. I promise.” Scarlet was just standing there, powerless to say or do anything, still holding her jacket. The woman laughed. 
“I’m flattered, but I’m not gay, you know?”
Obviously, she wasn’t gay. But that wasn’t the only option, was it? I tipped on bi. So I leaned in again, whispered something in her ear. It didn’t matter what I said. She flustered, got red. A little bit more. I kissed her right under her ear, and she involuntarily moaned before nodding. 
“O-Okay.” She said. “Maybe I am willing to experiment.” I smiled and turned to Scarlet 
“Be a dear, and bring my jacket as well, will you?”

And he did. He came back to me, and her, both those women he worked so hard for, french kissing right before his eyes. Without him. I took our jackets and finished up my plans for this night by whispering to him.
“Wait for me here, and I’ll teach you, my dear. As soon as I am finished with her.” His anger was gone, replaced by incomprehension and confusion. Not knowing what else he could do, he just nodded.
“Oh, and wear something red.” I led her into a cab and looked one last time at him. “Understood?” He nodded.
I took my time to come back. He could wait a little bit longer, and women like her were my favorite; Women that want to experiment always send a shiver down my spine. So I decided to indulge myself a bit. I was sure that I earned at least that. And for her first time with another woman, she was a surprisingly confident treat. It felt good to know that I was the reason that she found a new part of her sexuality. Well, I guess you do good wherever you can, right?
When I came back, he was still standing in the same place I left him be, but wearing the same scarlet red shirt he wore the first time we met. Time to do some more good for the world.
He looked at me, not sure what he should feel. So I took in his head, and pressed it against my shoulder, combing my fingers through his hair. 
“Good boy.”, I whispered.
“What… What should I call you?” He asked.
“Miss Williams will be just fine, Scarlet. Miss Williams... will be just fine.”

We went to his place again. Not like we had much choice, but he did not have to know that. He asked me what I wanted to drink, and I told him with a generous smile. It was good that he had learned to ask, so he deserved a bit of niceness. Just a bit, though. I told him that he should try again to pleasure me. 
“I have to be honest, I don’t think that you improved since yesterday. But maybe, just maybe, that was a small misstep. A bad day, you know?” He nodded. His whole demeanor had changed so much. He just could not fathom how his whole self he had been so convinced of a couple of days ago, could have been eroded so quickly. But I asked him to try again, so he did.
He leaned in, and I cut him off instantly. 
“No,” I said. “No, no, no. This is ridiculous.” He twitched back, shame in his eyes. 
“Why, Miss Williams?” He asked.
“It’s just too sloppy, too wet. Too much lip, too much tongue, no finesse.” I stared him down. “I don’t know how to put this nicely. You just suck at this. And let me tell you, as long as you suck, I won’t.” He lowered his gaze and began fidgeting with his hands. “Don’t you worry, though, my dear,” I continued. “I am taking pity on you. And I will teach you.”
“You will?” He asked with a glimmer of misplaced hope.
“Yes,” I said. “I don’t break hearts, and I will take care of you. So don’t you worry. You can do this. Let's try once more.”
And he tried. And he got some improvement done quickly, but that wasn’t so hard. Stop slobbing, start pecking, decide where you want to kiss, find the right spots. Take your time. And stop groping breasts like you're trying to squish some play-doh. I had some fun that night. Just seeing him struggle to get something right, that should be so simple, was a real delight.
“That is enough for today.” I could still see his erection through his pants, together with some wet spots of precum. “What do you plan to do with this?” I asked while pointing to his crotch.
“I hoped you would, well, do something, Miss Williams.” I smiled and put my hand on his cheek. 
“Yes, I will.” I stood up. “As soon as you deserve it. Remember to wear red, you will learn a lot tomorrow.”

It took me just a bit of convincing to get the preparations right for the next day. I knew what I had to offer to make a convincing argument.
When I met Scarlet, I told him he should call me Natt and strip down. Not only were his trousers red, but his underpants as well. His mediocre penis, already erect, twitched in anticipation. 
“Don’t you worry, today you won’t have to do anything. I will do all of the work.” I pulled some rope out. “Time to get you prepared. Cum.” He stepped in my direction. “No, you Idiot. I said cum! C-U-M.”
“Maybe you want to help me with tha-” I scowled at him.
“Don’t be an Idiot. Just rub one out already.” First, he wanted to say something, but decided against it and shut up. His hand clumsily grabbed his penis and started stroking it. I watched it with a critical eye, sometimes sighing, checking the clock, and rolling my eyes. 
“Really? How can you even be so bad at masturbating? Like, that is the only thing you should be good at.” His face was already red but got even redder through his shame. He wanted to say something, some kind of quippy remark, but second-guessed himself before he even opened his mouth. He remembered the last nights, he knew that something was wrong with him, and I, this mysterious woman, seemed to be the only cure. So he asked me something instead. 
“Should… Should I continue?” Still rubbing his cock foolishly, he looked like an embarrassed teenager that agreed to a circle-jerk, while being the only one with his dick out.
It was an evil little scheme. I knew precisely when demotivation was necessary to stop his arousal, so I could edge him the closest without having to touch him myself.
“Yes, I’ll do it myself. Sit down.” I pointed to a chair at his table, he quickly went over and sat down. “Don’t be such a tool! I don’t mean 'sit down there' but 'sit on that.' Over here, obviously!” Without hesitation, he began to carry the chair over and sat down again. I constrained him with the rope I brought, Scarlet gasping at times when I purposefully put on the knots too tight. He wanted to tell me that he didn’t like being taken hold of, but he didn’t dare to do so. Not that it would have changed anything. When I was finally done, there wasn’t a single Muscle he could move without putting himself in some sort of pain. 

“What is this for?” He asked. 
“Simple,” I said, “ it's so you can concentrate on everything that is happening. I don’t want you to interfere with my work in any way, shape, or form.” And even though my continued dissatisfaction with him stung, the thought of me finally finishing him off shot a shudder through his body. His penis twitched, with a glistening tip of sperm on top. He licked his lips while imagining me going down on my knees and licking it clean before I would encase it with my lips.
Even in his fantasies, he had no chill whatsoever. At least he stopped being violent towards me. That was a start. But I did none of those things. Instead, I stepped into his still way-too-clean kitchen, and filled a glass with some ice-cold water. He gasped when I poured it over him and his testicles from behind, clenching his teeth and cursing under his breath. It had the desired effect; his erection nearly instantly vanished.
So, I brought the next Item for tonight out of my bag: A chastity belt. I fastened it around his cock before he could say anything. 
“Finally. That took way longer than necessary.” I stated with a smile.
“What the fuck is that?!” He squirmed, trying to loosen his knots, but only tightened them further. “I thought you wanted to make me cum?!” I shook my head, went to his door. 
“No, I wanted to put this chastity belt on you. And for that, you shouldn’t have an erection. And since you can’t get rid of it yourself, I have to find some alternative solutions. Did you think I would touch your dick, my dear?” He didn’t answer. He knew he could only lose. He was wounded, but at least he would get me doing some kinky stuff with him, right?

I opened the door. Nearly filling out the entire door frame was a handsome and huge man. 
“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend along today.” Scarlet gasped when the strange man stepped into his apartment and nodded to him. 
“Fio here told me she wants my help to train you a bit,” he said with a deep and raspy voice. Scarlet was still speechless: 
“This is Ezequiel, but you can call him Zeke. And he will show you how to pleasure me the right way.”
“What's the name of the little man?” I stood there for a second, trying to think.
“You know what, Zeke? I actually forgot. Call him Scarlet.” And then I put a gag into Scarlet's gaping mouth.

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