Chapter Text
The Scent of Copper
“You’re late,” observed Lilith with no small amount of disdain, her fingernails tapping impatiently from her usual spot at the reception desk. The clinically smooth tile of the walls and floor echoed with Arthur’s footsteps, and he discerned it was just the two of them in the receiving lounge at the moment. He smiled tightly in the Madam’s direction.
“I was held up,” he said after clearing his throat. “I told you I got another job.”
“And I told you to prioritize the family,” Lilith clicked her tongue, “You’re one of our most popular dominants, Arthur. You’re booked solid through to two in the morning, and your first client has been waiting ten minutes into his hour. You’re going to have to discount him and show him a very good time to make up for it.”
“Well maybe if the Manager hadn’t decided to take a bigger cut of the profits…” Arthur took in a seething breath, but Lilith cut him off.
“I’m afraid Daddy Dearest has us all by the balls,” Lilith said in too-light tones. “It’s not like it’s easy to find a safe place to do this sort of job, and you knew the deal when you signed on with him. I say prioritize us not because you’ll be fired, but because if his most popular asset tried to quit, he’d have you hunted down and gutted.”
“Yes, well,” Arthur sighed and shook his head, turning to wave his cane in a wide arc in front of him to check for obstacles before heading to change into his ensemble for the evening, “I suppose if finding a blind man willing to hit anonymous people for a living is so hard, I’ll have to organize my time better.”
“Oh we could make some men like that, if that’s all it was,” Lilith snorted, and Arthur heard the flip of a magazine page. “You’re good at your job. Don’t sell yourself short. And hurry up. At this rate you’ll be working on this one for free and the cost is coming out of your cut.”
“And you wonder why I need a second job?”
*
Despite being a sex worker, Arthur’s particular position these days rarely called for full nudity, or even anything particularly revealing. It was true that initially, when he was first desperate enough to seek out work at an underground brothel run by Arkem's most prominent crime family, he had spent more than a few nights nursing a sore backside and no small amount of humiliation. That was until he had received one notoriously difficult client, going only by the moniker ‘Butch’, who had attempted to get off via beating Arthur as brutally as possible and Arthur had snapped in such a way that the Manager had decided he would better serve the brothel using… other means.
So now Arthur strode through the halls wearing a crisp suit, one that his roommate Noel had helped choose for him (he thought it had been for job interviews. It had served that purpose as well). Even his practical cane for daily use had been swapped out for a heavier one that swept in front of him, more for show than practical purpose. His polished shoes clicked as he made his way to his usual room at the very end of the backmost hallway. His client would no doubt be in a foul mood to have a third of his time lost. It was worse that this was evidently a new one, and a first impression was a hell of a thing to change.
As he approached the door he paused, listening for any telling sounds beyond. There was some scuffling, a squeak of shoes on the floor and then the screech of metal – likely one of the toy cabinets, being hit followed by a soft swear. After a moment of indecision, Arthur decided to give his client the mercy of a moment to get presentable and knocked on the door.
There was a long silence, and Arthur knocked again.
“May I come in?” asked Arthur politely, all his British charm shining through in his tone. There was some more scuffling. “I can hear you in there, you know.”
“I-I uh, I’m good in here. I mean I don’t- I just need-“ The voice on the other side was deep. Startlingly deep, really. Arthur imagining the man it belonged to was likely rather large. He wondered briefly if he should get Lilith to fetch a bouncer to wait by the door in case he was angry over Arthur’s lateness but… no. He was a professional, he could tame a man no matter how large he was.
Besides, the man sounded flustered more than anything. Maybe this was his first time paying for a dom? That would be a relief, it was far easier to intimidate a man who was embarrassed to be there.
Deciding to bite the bullet, Arthur turned the doorknob and listened to the man audibly jump. He took care to smile in the direction he presumed the man was, though he also made sure not to be too precise. If he was really flustered, he would no doubt be reassured by the fact the man he was paying could not, in fact, see him to identify him later.
(He never mentioned how good he was at placing a voice, of course. Anonymity was such a precious thing in this sort of fantasy, and he was happy to offer the illusion of it.)
“Hello, Mister Doe was it?” said Arthur briskly as he strode into the familiar space, sweeping his cane only to ensure the client hadn’t left anything in the middle of the floor during his time left to his own devices. “I apologize for my lateness and let me assure you that today’s shortened session will be entirely complimentary. Consider it a trial run of sorts. If you’re satisfied, I hope you’ll make another appointment on your way out.”
He paused to breathe in, only to cough as the scent of copper hit his nose. “Urgh, apologies for the smell as well. This facility is far enough underground I swear some days you can only smell the pipes from the boiler room.”
“Pipes? I don’t- but don’t you see-? Oh Jesus Christ, you’re blind?!” said the client in such obvious bafflement that it tugged a frown onto Arthur’s lips.
“Were you not told during your consultation?” he asked, “They normally mention it. Actually, I’m told that’s often a deciding factor for many people. Being with a man who won’t identify you later is something of a comforting thought. Or so I’m told.”
“Being with a- oh. Oh you mean you work here as a… but… y-you’re a man?”
Arthur slowed his gradual circling of the room to look toward the client again, dumbfounded. “Are you expecting a woman? Are you in the wrong room? You’re free to return to the front desk in that case, I can clean up here,” he turned to put his hand on one of his cabinets and missed, his hand passing through air. Frowning, he began to wave his cane in that direction, confused as it knocked against something on the floor. Something soft, a piece of clothing maybe? Was his client already nude for him?
“No! Uh, this is the right room! I just… I… don’t know why I said that? You can uh, c-come this way?” the man stumbled over his words awkwardly, and Arthur let out of a light breath that bordered on a laugh.
“Let me guess, your first time?” he went for an easier swagger as he began to beeline for the client, listening as the man’s breathing hitched and he stumbled out from his corner to edge along the wall closer to the door. He wasn’t protesting though, even as Arthur got close enough to place a hand on the man’s chest that rapidly rose and fell beneath his touch. He was definitely a large man, broad and taller than Arthur by a decent amount. His terrified rapid breathing told Arthur this was a shy one, too. Not a natural brat, probably would do better with a softer touch.
That was unfortunate. Arthur tended to prefer the clients who wanted more violence from him. He could let loose more with them, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t play the gentle guide just as well, even if it tended to make him feel more uncomfortable.
He smiled easily as he slid his hand up the man’s chest to cup at his neck. The skin was pock-marked there, and he could feel a deep scar running up the side. Mafia, perhaps? Not unusual to find on his client list. He knew better than to ask, at least not so early in the session. Eventually Arthur found his pulse point, fluttering like a bird’s. Definitely in need of comfort.
“Everyone starts somewhere,” said Arthur in a measured tone. “Let’s start slow. Do you know what you want from this?”
“What… what I want?” the man sounded bewildered, as though he’d never been asked such a question in his life. Arthur nodded, placing his cane alongside the man’s thigh and pressing it into the fabric there, vaguely noting that the man was indeed still fully clothed. Perhaps it had been an overcoat he had left on the floor?
“How about we start with what you’d like me to call you?” Arthur suggested. “You left your name on the call sheet as Mister John Doe. Would you like to be called Mister Doe? Or John?”
“I- John?” the man practically squeaked the name, which Arthur had to admit was a rather cute reaction.
“Very good, John,” Arthur said, deepening his voice on the name and relishing the way his client shuddered against him. He also noticed that his breathing was still rapid. Clearly he needed a little more reassurance. “There we go. You know, I bet some people find a man like you intimidating. But speaking as a blind man, you don’t look so scary to me.”
That broke through ‘John’s’ shaking and he let out a startled snort. “You’d feel differently if you could see, believe me.”
“Well, I can’t. So that’s nothing for us to worry about, is it?” said Arthur as he dug his fingers into the man’s belt and pulled him against him to check how far along he was. Only half-mast, Arthur judged from the way the bulge in the other man’s pants felt against his thigh. “Let’s get a little more comfortable. Strip.”
“H-huh?!” John jolted as Arthur tugged on his belt again. “I- a-actually you know I don’t… I don’t know if… if I can…”
Arthur hummed, licking his lips before running his hand back down his client’s chest and down to his trousers, resting on the belt buckle. “You don’t know how to take off your clothes? How unfortunate. Do you need daddy to help you, darling?”
Like a bell being rung, John’s hips abruptly bucked and Arthur felt the breeze as the man’s hand rushed upward to slap over his mouth as a moan was ripped out of him. Well, that was a kink Arthur was quite familiar with. As dirty as it made him feel. As unworthy of the title as he was. He knew the kink well. He could certainly work with this.
He unbuckled the belt with practiced fingers, barely fumbling as he reached the button and fly beneath it. He only paused when a wide, gnarled hand landed on his hip and squeezed. “Hm, do you need something?”
“H-how much longer is this appointment?”
“You finish at the hour. We ought to have about thirty minutes left.”
“And I- and what am I… getting? Exactly?”
This seemed like something reception should have clarified before he was let in the room, but it wouldn’t be the first time Lilith decided to get some petty revenge on Arthur by underpreparing a client. “Quite simply, thirty minutes of following my orders to ensure your total satisfaction. I will not be fucking you, but I will be touching you, and you will be touching me, with hands and mouth. If you’re still amendable to that.”
“Oh. Oh that- okay. Okay,” the man relaxed a bit more. “Then… right. Um, what… what should I do, then? Oh right you said to um- I-I can do it.”
“Do what? Be clear, John,” said Arthur, finally taking on a tone of more authority. He could imagine the man’s flinch as he started fumbling with his shirt buttons. Seeing as they were short on time, Arthur began to work on John’s belt, only for it to jolt out of reach.
“Take my clothes off! I- Jesus Christ- just give me a second! I can do it!” John yelped as Arthur’s cane smacked him lightly in the side.
“If you insist, but you’ll address me properly,” said Arthur swiftly.
“Like… uh. How? S-sir?” he asked uncertainly and Arthur laughed, shaking his head.
“No, I think daddy will do nicely for us,” Arthur smirked, “It should be what brings you the most pleasure after all.”
John froze then, trembling badly. Arthur could only just hear the sound of a single, terrified gulp.
Arthur took pity for the nervous client and made for the belt again. “Come now, let’s get those trousers off you. Don’t you want to make daddy proud?”
John mewled like a starved kitten, falling boneless against the wall as Arthur’s hands resumed their work. He shucked the man of his lower garments and wasted no time in tracing a finger up the side of the thick cock that was bouncing between them now. A quick rub over the weeping head giving him all the evidence he needed to know he wouldn’t be getting a complaint from this client. Not that this would stop the free session coming out of his pay. Damn Kayne.
“There’s a sofa in the corner,” Arthur said, all gentleness again as he guided John forward a step from the safety of the wall. “You were there when I came in. Let’s get you comfortable on daddy’s lap.”
“N-no! Not- not there,” John jumped, suddenly trembling again in a way that left Arthur baffled. “There’s… there’s an armchair in the other corner. Maybe there instead?”
Arthur nodded, his eyes crinkling playfully, “Do you want your daddy to be comfortable when you suck his cock? How thoughtful.”
The sputters and flailing from the now-nude man towering over him was more than a bit cute, and Arthur found he was beginning to have fun as he turned away from John and made for his armchair without issue. He slid into it easily, spreading his legs far enough apart for those broad shoulders to fit between them. He patted his lap invitingly as he undid his own belt one-handed. “Come now, darling. Be a good boy and play with daddy’s cock. You’ll get a treat if you do a good job.”
“A… treat?” John sounded wary, but Arthur could hear him crossing the room toward him. To his credit, he only hesitated for a few seconds before his giant form fell heavily onto its knees and scooted up into the place Arthur had left for him. He waited a beat for him to get comfortable only to jerk backward when there was a burst of scalding breath and a hot tongue abruptly tracing up his soft cock, immediately making it jump with interest.
“Jesus! E-eager little slut are we?” Arthur laughed weakly, coughing to recompose himself as one of those massive hands wrapped around him at the base. “Not so much a virgin then, are you?”
The licking, which had been increasing in speed and desperation, stopped then and the grip on him loosened and tightened a few times rhythmically, as though the man were playing with a stress toy. “I… I haven’t. I’ve just… imagined. This. Before. W-was it okay? Too fast? I can go slower sir- um- d-daddy.”
The word came out half-choked, but the breathiness in his tone told Arthur how much he truly enjoyed saying it. He reached out to thread his fingers through the man’s hair, a little surprised at how long it was. A little greasy too, though the man was clearly sweating. He could smell the ripeness of him permeating the room and mixing with the copper smell of the old pipes. Between that and the continuous squeezing, he could feel himself responding readily now.
“You’re doing just fine,” said Arthur, “You just want to be a good boy for me, and I’m more than happy to let you. This is a place for all those dirty little dreams of yours to come true, isn’t it? How about you take your daddy as deep into your mouth as you can? See how far that imagination can take you.”
His client let out a short, breathy, desperate little chuckle in that sinfully deep voice before he hurried to follow the order. Arthur shut his largely useless eyes and groaned just a touch theatrically as his cock was engulfed by a wide, wet mouth. The tongue that ran along the vein on the underside of his length was clumsy and too fast, but Arthur threaded a hand into John’s hair and it slowed, letting Arthur guide him into shallowly bobbing up and down, ever so gradually increasing in depth but keeping the pace slow to avoid uncontrolled choking. He didn’t want to leave his client with trauma, after all. After a while he paused.
“Good boy, John. Prepare yourself. I’m going to push down and count to ten. If you’re very good and take it all, you’ll get your treat,” Arthur promised, and felt the client swallow nervously around him before his head dipped in a minute nod of acknowledgement. Breathing in through his nose, Arthur tightened his grip in John’s hair and began to slowly steadily push downward.
The first couple of inches were no trouble, but by the feel of it, Arthur made it four inches deep before he felt the head of his cock breech the soft flesh at the back of John’s throat and he felt the man buck and a strangled cough shook the wet walls around him. Arthur paused to let him adjust, and to see what he would do. Would he attempt to pull backward and risk displeasing Arthur?
“You need to keep going, darling,” Arthur said slightly, “If you don’t take all of me I’ll have to punish you. Of course you might enjoy a punishment. It’s up to you. We can stop now, if you pref- oh!”
Arthur yelped as John swallowed again, this time drawing his throbbing cock all the way into the throat beyond. Arthur couldn’t hear John’s breath, and it took him a moment to get over the shock and remember he had promised to count.
“G-good boy,” Arthur repeated dizzily, scratching idly at John’s scalp as he fought against the unexpected overwhelm of how incredibly hot and tight the man’s throat was around him. Seriously, how many people had sucked his cock in the last week alone? You would think he’d be numb to this, but something about John… “Now hold still. One, two, th-three, four…”
He counted fairly, evenly, all the way to ten and then pulled the hair under his hand. John coughed as he dislodged himself, first lightly and then violently as Arthur quickly pulled him all the way off of his now rock hard length.
“John! Are you okay?” Arthur asked, voice rough with arousal as he checked in. John continued to cough, but a large hand landed on Arthur’s inner thigh and squeezed it more gently than he would have expected. Arthur chose to take this as reassurance and instead of getting up to call for help he ran his hand down to the front of John’s throat, half covered by his chin as he bent double, and began rubbing gently at the Adam’s apple there while making soothing noises. It was less than a minute before the coughing calmed and his rubbing slowed as John cleared his throat.
“That was… sorry. Sorry I didn’t- I’m not used to-” John stumbled on his words, and Arthur felt the heat of a blush rushing to the man’s face through his throat. He followed the blood to the man’s cheek and cupped it, making the man fall silent.
“No need to apologize when you so obviously did your best,” said Arthur firmly, “And you did exactly as I said. There’s no shame in choking on Daddy’s cock, is there?”
The whimper his client made at that was heartbreaking, and Arthur breathed in sharply as one of those massive hands enveloped his own, holding it now trapped between it and that flushed cheek. After only a moment’s silent the cheek moved, turning into his touch so that now his fingers brushed lips.
“No, Daddy,” John mumbled into Arthur’s hand, and a shiver of desire raced down his spine so violently he was sure John must have noticed. If so, he didn’t react to it, and Arthur had only moments to grapple with why he was being so affected by the scene before John spoke again, more clearly, “You mentioned a treat?”
That drew out a genuine laugh, and Arthur nodded his head, gently extracting his hand from John’s grip to lean back on his chair and pat his lap. “That’s right. Come here, sit in my lap and I’ll take care of you like you need, love.”
He listened to the shuffling as John staggered up to his feet, a hand reached past Arthur to balance on the arm of the chair and he turned his head up to face the sound of John’s breath as he hovered over him. The whine the man let out hung in the air just a little too long to be anything but distress.
“What’s wrong?” asked Arthur, brow furrowing.
“This won’t… this won’t work. I’m too big. I’ll crush you,” John huffed out, frustration bleeding into his words and he growled when Arthur laughed and shook his head. “I am! If you could see, you’d know that! I’d barely fit in this chair if you weren’t in it, and you’re not- you’re so…”
“Careful,” Arthur said flippantly, not terribly bothered. He’d always been a smaller man, and he’d had a lifetime to get over the insecurities that came with that. “I’m hardier than I look. Let’s give it a try. I’ll let you know if you’re too much, but I sincerely doubt you will be.”
“…fine,” John grumbled, and Arthur heard the chair creak under him as John turned and lowered himself into his lap sideways, legs thrown over one armrest and his elbows propped up on the other, very clearly trying to keep his full weight off of Arthur even has his bare ass pressed firmly into Arthur’s clothed thighs. It was a very sweet, if unnecessary gesture. It hardly mattered, he’d give up when Arthur started to work on him.
“That’s a lad,” Arthur praised, resting one hand against John’s warm thigh and began to rub soft circles there, working up toward the man’s crotch as his other hand moved up to twine fingers into the man’s hair again, pulling his head backward to face the ceiling. “You were a good boy, and now Daddy is going to make you come. Won’t that be nice?”
“Yes,” John replied bluntly, and Arthur could feel his torso shake against him from the effort of holding himself up. “G-get on with it, then.”
“Get on with it?” Arthur said with amusement, tsking as he lightened his touch and skimmed his fingertips up to brush against John’s swollen balls, making the man jerk against him before skittering away again. “That doesn’t sound very eager. Do you not want to come after all?”
“I do! I do but I just- I don’t know how I’m supposed to-” the man squirmed, moving slightly away from Arthur toward the edge of the chair. That wouldn’t do, Arthur pulled on the man’s hair harder while digging his fingernails into his thigh, actively pulling the man back and making him moan very loudly in the process. Interesting.
“You don’t know how to come? How dreadful. Looks like Daddy will have to teach you then, hm?” Arthur hummed as John settled back into place, a little more heavily in his lap now as he’d lost some of his support in his squirming. Now Arthur finally traced the crease between the man’s legs to his balls and cupped them, rolling them in the palm of his hand and relishing the way the larger man shuddered. “Do you like having your balls played with, dear?”
“Ugh, y-yeah I- ooh,” John huffed, and Arthur felt him squirm again, this time leaning up against his chest for more support as his outer arm shifted to move up and cover his mouth against the myriad of tiny, gasping noises he started to make as Arthur rolled faster and then left the balls to trace up his cock proper, already hard, curving gradually to the right, and burning hot under his touch. It was also slick down one side where a snail-trail of precum was leaking freely from the straining tip and Arthur took a moment to run his index finger through it, leaning to draw it up to John’s lips.
“Taste yourself, darling. Taste how good you’ve been for your Daddy.”
John grunted, but obediently extended his well-used tongue and traced over Arthur’s fingers, licking them clean thoughtlessly and then at Arthur’s light nudging he began to lick the rest of Arthur’s hand, palm and fingers both to slick them up before Arthur whispered more praised and returned his hand to the man’s cock, grabbing it this time in a slick grip and beginning to run it up and down, twisting his wrist lightly in the process and making the man yelp at the suddenness followed by his loudest moan yet.
“Yes! Yes, Daddy, more!” John thrashed against him, and Arthur let out a soft ‘oof’ as he was mindlessly elbowed in the stomach and groaned when at last the full weight of his client fell upon him and left him gritting his teeth. It was more the position that made it uncomfortable, but it was fine. He was a professional and had endured far worse. He sped up his pace, quite sure they had to be nearly out of time by now. “Ah, ah, yes! Yes, fuck, that’s good. That’s so good, Daddy. Don’t stop, just bit to the left- the left the- the OTHER left you- ah f-FUCK!”
With that shouted expletive, Arthur felt the cock erupt in his hand, shutting his eyes again as he felt a glob of spend spatter against his cheek. Well, at least dry cleaning the suit was the one expense the Manager had agreed to cover. When the cock was spent, Arthur gasped as the client collapsed fully against his chest then, a hand grabbing his shoulder and holding on for dear life as John let out large, heaving gasps for breath.
“A-are you alright?” asked Arthur as he attempted to discreetly reach up to wipe the semen from his face. He noticed his legs were already going a bit numb as well. He needed to get the client up and out so the cleaning staff could come fix the room up for his next appointment, lest he be behind all night.
“I-I’m just… that was…” the client struggled to find the words as Arthur started pushing fingers through his own hair to check for more splatters. “I never thought it could be like that.”
“Well, you’re more than welcome to return if you make another appointment with reception on the way out,” said Arthur smoothly. Preferably as a paying customer next time, he didn’t add. This was his own fault really. “I hope you do I… I rarely have such an enjoyable client for these things. It would be disappointing, not to have you with me again.”
It wasn’t a line he tried with every customer, even if Lilith encouraged it. But he had, surprisingly, enjoyed John. He wouldn’t mind having him as a regular. Though he might rethink letting him put his full weight in his lap again, he really wasn’t kidding about being heavy, the man felt like a thousand pounds of hard, gnarled muscle.
“Next time?” John said, sounding oddly bewildered as he seemed to finally come back to himself. “That- oh. Right that- ah. Fuck I- I have to go.”
“Yes, the next client. Get up and get your clothes on, I have some wet wipes by the sofa if you need them.”
“Right I- I’ll just- right!” John scrambled out of Arthur’s lap and he heard the man scuffling around on the floor, presumably retrieving his clothes. Arthur took the moment to stretch and rub a little feeling back into his legs before rising and making his way over to the sofa to retrieve the wet wipes.
He hadn’t bothered to grab his cane, familiar with the room and entirely forgetting the obstruction he’d found near the sofa before until his foot snagged on it and he fell forward with a strangled yell, tumbling and landing on whatever he had tripped over. Immediately the strong scent of copper flooded his nose and he coughed as he registered that he wasn’t lying on clothes. Or not just clothes. Was that- a person? Someone else was here? Someone-
“DADDY! I- oh fuck I mean- I’m just- you- are you-? …I’m sorry!” the client… the client?! The strange man he’d just gotten off babbled behind him as Arthur came to grips with the dawning horror of what he was lying on.
“Good lord, it’s a corpse. I-I’m lying on a corpse,” Arthur whimpered.
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t expect you to-”
“LILITH! LILIIIIITH!” Arthur shrieked at the top of his lungs as John(???!) swore behind him and then Arthur heard the door bang open and the man ran from the room as Arthur continued to yell. He grew more incoherent as he scrambled off the corpse, feeling down his body and noticing all the new, fresh wet spots. He didn’t know if they were cum or blood.
He’d just fucked a murderer with a fresh corpse in the room. A fresh corpse that was most likely his actual intended client. He thought the smell of blood was pipes.
By the time one of the other whores poked their head around the doorway to find Arthur sitting in a pool of blood, his screams had turned into hysterical laughter. It was going to take a long time to talk his way out of this one.