Paper Flowers

Author's note : Damn, writing smut is hard!

Been a while since I updated this one. But when inspiration strikes, who am I to refuse? I am my Muse's bitch, after all.



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For around an hour, Styx found himself in a state of contentment he hadn’t known for a long time. In the steam filled bathroom, hot water lapped at his chest, warming the deep chill inside his body and helping muscles tight with worry and tension relax. Naively, he felt that as long as he had regular access to a hot bath, he could endure anything the Inferno threw at him.

Jay’s warning had spooked him to begin with, but now that he’d had time to really think things over and relax, Styx wasn’t as concerned. He was strong. He’d survived the vicious attack that infected him with lycanthropy, he could survive a night or two of sex. Really, how bad could it be?



Cooling water and the knowledge that time was passing finally pushed Styx out of the bath. He quickly dried off with a thin, scratchy towel, then wrapped it around his hips as he went in search of something to wear. Something to wear. Damn. His own clothes were filthy and stank like a hobo’s armpit. He could wash them, but there was no way they’d be

dry in time.



“Shit.”



Running a hand through wet hair, Styx went to investigate the wardrobe. Thankfully, Mephistopheles must have anticipated that the people he brought in would be scarce in the way of belongings, because there was a neat pile of clothes sitting on the shelf. Old and obviously well recycled, the clothes were clean and would provide a preferable

alternative to walking around naked.



Styx selected a pair of pants with a drawstring waistband and a long sleeved black sweat shirt. The pants were several sizes too large -- the cuffs dragged on the floor when he walked -- but they were warm and comfortable, and Styx wasn’t about to complain.



With nothing else to do now except wait until he was called, Styx gathered up his own dirty clothes and carried them into the bathroom. After a moment’s consideration, he shrugged and dropped the lot into the lukewarm bath water to soak. He’d wash them properly later.

On his way out of the bathroom, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and was compelled to linger. His skin -- the smooth colour of chocolate -- was cleaner than it had been in months. Long, white blonde hair wet from the bath was slicked back from his face, making high cheekbones look sharper, the line of his jaw stronger. Sometime over the last hour his eyes had returned to normal, two points of hazel light in a dark face. He sighed, breath fanning out to fog the mirror and obscure his reflection.



“Wish me luck.”



+++



Forty minutes later, Styx was sitting in a room in the East Wing with only the butterflies in his stomach for company as he awaited his first client. Mephistopheles himself had come to his room to collect him, and had told him a little about the client as they walked the hallway.



An Inferno regular, he’d said. A man named Alejandro Landrianos, big money from the south side of Daichosa. Liked to be called Sir. Had a thing for virgins, and was willing to pay for the privilege of being the first to sample any new blood Mephistopheles contracted.



Styx glanced at the door and tried to still the nervous tapping of his foot. Now that he was here, his bath time nonchalance was starting to fizzle out. Then, all this had still been an idea. Now it was real. He felt sick. But every time he thought about getting up and leaving, explaining to Mephistopheles that this had all been a big misunderstanding, his mind conjured up an image of Rafael. His friend, his brother in arms. Dying. Styx wouldn’t leave. Not until he’d done what he came here to do. He’d promised Rafael he’d take care of him, and he would keep that promise. So he would lose what little dignity he had left. So what. At least Rafael would be alive.



The door opened and a tall, broad shouldered, middle aged man stepped inside. His skin was a few shades lighter than Styx’s, his hair black and pulled back in a neat ponytail at the base of his neck. He was dressed in an expensive looking suit, and gold jewellery glittered at his throat and hands. The strap of a medium sized black bag was slung over one shoulder. Brown eyes lingered approvingly on Styx for a moment, before the man turned to lock the door behind him and set the bag down on the floor.



“Well now, Mephistopheles wasn’t lying when he said he had a pretty new toy for me to play with.” Alejandro leaned against the door, hands hidden in trouser pockets. “Dinn Liaanan too. Don’t see many of your people this far south.”



Styx shifted uncomfortably, unsure how he was supposed to act. He wasn’t even certain if the man was expecting an answer, or if he was just talking to hear the sound of his own voice. The silence stretched out between them, and finally Styx spoke.



“We don’t adapt well to the cold.”



“Hm, so I’ve heard.” Alejandro nodded. “So what are you doing here?”



It was an innocent question, but Styx bristled inwardly and wanted to snap at the man to mind his own fucking business. Instead, he looked up at him and answered honestly;



“I used to work here before the war. Now the roads are closed and I’m stuck here.”



“Ah, a pity. You must miss home.”



“Sometimes.” Styx said stiffly, eyeing the man as he moved away from the door and came to sit on the edge of the bed, opposite the chair where Styx sat.



“Mephistopheles tells me you’re a lycanthrope. When did that happen? Before or after the war?”



“After.” So difficult not to growl the word. What was with all the questions? The rich bastard was here to fuck him, not become his new best friend.



“I see. And how did it happen? Were you attacked? Tell me about it.” Alejandro leaned forward, face a picture of morbid curiosity.



Styx stared at him incredulously. No one had ever asked him about the attack. It was kind of an unwritten law -- you just didn’t ask lycanthrope victims about the attack that infected them. Not even Rafael had ever broached the subject, though Styx had told him about it one day following a particularly rough change.



“That’s none of your damn business.” He said through clenched teeth, glaring at the man in front of him.



He saw the hand lift, saw it sail through the air, but didn’t understand what it meant until it struck him across the jaw. Hard. His head snapped back and his breath hissed through his teeth. A few seconds later he tasted blood. Growling, he turned back to Alejandro, and knew from the expression on the man’s face that his eyes had bled to wolf amber.



“Respect.” Alejandro said in a low voice as he rose from the bed and shrugged out of his suit jacket. “Learn to show some.”



“Fuck you.”



A sigh, as though he was dealing with a particularly stupid child who had failed to grasp a simple idea, then Alejandro struck Styx again, just as hard, on the other side of his face.



“And such language! Mephistopheles did tell me you were a bit rough around the edges, and that this is your first night, but still ...” He shook his head in mock disappointment. “Didn’t your mother at least teach you good manners?”



“She taught me respect must be earned.” Styx spat blood at Alejandro’s feet.



“How quaint.” The older man removed his tie and tossed it over the back of a chair with his jacket. “But surely you must realise the world doesn’t work like that?” When Styx’s only answer was to snarl at him, Alejandro sighed again. “Such a difficult child. All right. Take off your shirt, turn around and get on your knees.”



Styx stared at the other man for a good couple of minutes before he averted his eyes and stood up. This was more like what he’d been expecting. Physical abuse he could handle. Arrogant rich bastards asking incredibly personal questions -- that was a big no.

He slid the sweatshirt over his head and threw it away, uncaring of where it landed. Then he turned his back on Alejandro and sank to his knees. From behind him he heard footsteps, the rustle of fabric, then the harsh sound of a zipper being opened. Soon after that came the distinct rattling of chains.

Styx began to turn around, but stopped himself halfway through the motion. He would not give this arsehole the satisfaction of knowing he was nervous.



The next sound was Alejandro’s voice, telling Styx to put his hands behind his back. Grudgingly, he obeyed, then sucked in a pained breath of air when a pair of shackles were clamped around his wrists. The metal was cold enough to bite, but it was the high silver content that made him close his eyes and clench his jaw, straining against the chain that now bound him.



“The fact is, puppy.” Standing behind him, Alejandro grabbed a fistful of hair and dragged his head back. “The weak kneel and give respect to the strong. Because it’s only due to the good will of people like me, that pieces of filth like you are allowed to exist.”



Styx growled and bared his teeth. If he’d been in wolf form his hackles would be up, fur bristling. Even the slightest movement made the shackles chafe his skin. Over a long period of time, the silver would begin to eat into his flesh. Burning, corroding like slow working acid. Had the chain been made of anything else, Styx would have been able to snap it without breaking a sweat. But the silver kept him bound, all his inhuman strength counting for nothing.



In that moment, Styx realised he hated Alejandro. There were few people he cared enough about to warrant such a strong emotion. Living on the streets, one learned to become somewhat apathetic towards other people. If you didn’t, you ended up hating the whole world. But this man, this stranger whom he’d only just met ... Styx hated him. And it wasn’t because Alejandro had hit him or chained him. It was because of his massive superiority complex. His view that living on the streets, that being forced to sell himself for money, made Styx inferior. Less. And that really grated his pride.



“Oh, what’s wrong? Have I upset you?” Releasing his hold on Styx’s hair, Alejandro strode back over to the bed and sat down, idly snapping open the button on his pants.



“Go fuck yourself.” Styx glared at him through the strands of still damp hair that now fell across his face.



“No pretty, that’s what you’re for.” A brief smile as Alejandro made a ‘come here’ motion with his hand.



What else could he do but obey? As Alejandro had said, this was what he was here for. Knowing that didn’t make it any easier for Styx to shuffle towards him on his knees. At the older man’s feet Styx stopped moving. He could guess well enough what he would be required to do, but he wasn’t going to do anything without being ordered first.



“What do you want, Sir?” He practically spat the last word, and there was no denying the contempt that laced it.



Alejandro just smiled.

“I want to see your pretty lips around my cock, puppy.”



Styx glowered, already feeling dirty and he hadn’t even done anything yet. He shuffled a little closer, but paused when he was confronted with the problem of opening the man’s pants with his hands bound. A quick upwards glance was all that was needed for Alejandro to understand.



“Use your face.”



A constant string of curses flowing through his mind, Styx leaned into the older man’s crotch and carefully took the pants zipper between his teeth. It took a bit of encouragement, but he managed to get the fly open. Okay, part two. Using his nose and chin to push aside fabric, Styx discovered two things. Alejandro wasn’t wearing underwear, and he was already half hard.

For a long moment all Styx could do was stare dumbly at Alejandro’s organ. Intelligent thought abandoned him as the reality of the situation smacked him between the eyes. He was going to get royally fucked.



‘Okay Styx. Don’t lose it. You can do this. It’s not like you’ve never sucked cock before.’



Unfortunately, that wasn’t the part that had him panicking. It was the part that came after that concerned him. As a rule, Styx preferred the company of women. However he wasn’t opposed to the idea of having sex with another man, and he’d had several male lovers over the years. But on all those occasions, he’d topped his partner. He’d never been on the receiving end of the deal. So yes, the thought of Alejandro touching his virgin arse didn’t make him happy.



‘Don’t think. Just do it and get it over with.’



Styx closed his eyes briefly, summoning an image of Rafael from the dark spaces of his mind, using it as a talisman for courage.



“What’re you waiting for? Time is money puppy.”



Fighting the near overwhelming desire to employ teeth instead of tongue, Styx lowered his head and licked a slow path up Alejandro’s cock from root to tip. He heard the older man sigh, felt hot flesh quiver beneath his lips and grow harder.

Nausea formed tight knots in his belly, but if nothing else, Styx was a stubborn bastard. He ignored his own discomfort and concentrated on the pleasure of his client.



‘Just do what you’re being paid for ...’



Styx had once been told by a former lover that he had a sinful mouth, and he put it to use now. He caressed Alejandro with lips and tongue, teasing the swollen, flushed head, fanning warm breath over flesh slick with saliva, sucking, lapping, enticing. Above him, Alejandro groaned softly and fisted his hands in Styx’s hair, guiding himself none too gently into the younger man’s mouth.

Unbalanced by the sudden movement, Styx struggled not to fall into the other man’s lap, wishing desperately he had the use of his hands. He tried his best to relax, to regain his focus and utilise some of the tricks he’d learned over the years, but Alejandro apparently didn’t care much for technique. He held Styx’s head in place and arched his hips, forcefully driving himself further down the lycanthrope’s throat, effectively face fucking him. There was nothing Styx could do except kneel passively, keep his throat as relaxed as possible and try not to gag. His scalp stung where Alejandro pulled his hair

and the fleshy wet slap of the larger man’s balls hitting his chin every time he pounded into him made his stomach churn alarmingly.



And then suddenly, amazingly, it was over. Breathing harshly, Alejandro withdrew and pushed Styx away. Without the use of his hands Styx was unable to keep his balance and fell onto his side, long hair half obscuring his vision. He lay there quietly, catching his breath, feeling dirty and shamed, wishing he could wipe the saliva from his chin, realising that it wasn’t over at all.



Alejandro, having stepped out of his pants and removed his shoes, stood over Styx in his crisp business shirt and grey socks. For some reason, the sight repelled Styx more than if the man had been completely naked.



“Get up.”



Styx considered refusing. It would be so much easier just to lie there. But he knew he’d only get a beating for his troubles and then still have to do whatever else Alejandro required of him. Might as well just obey. Muscles in his torso tensed as he struggled upright, glaring at Alejandro through the strands of his hair. The older man gazed down at him, rubbing his erection almost thoughtfully.



“On your feet puppy. Bend over the edge of the bed.”



Slowly, making every second stretch out for as long as possible, Styx did as he’d been instructed. The bed was quite high, high enough that he could bend over it at the waist and almost not have to bend his knees. Alejandro approached him from behind, hand outstretched to run thick, gold ringed fingers over his back, then down his side, coming to rest on a sharp hip bone. His touch made Styx tremble, not with desire, but revulsion. Fear. He pressed his face into the mattress, not trusting his expression not to betray him.



“Such a pretty puppy ...” Alejandro’s second hand came to rest on Styx’s other hip, and together they began to draw down his pants, leaving him naked and utterly vulnerable. “Lift your feet.”



First the left, the right, Styx lifted his feet and allowed Alejandro to disentangle him from the pants legs and toss the garment aside. He tensed as he felt fingertips trace up the outside of his thigh, then the palm of a large hand smooth over the curve of his buttocks. He felt the older man lean over him, felt demanding hardness of his cock press against his entrance, felt hot breath against his shoulder as Alejandro whispered to him;



“So young, so ... frightened ... Tell me puppy, where has all your bravado gone? Don’t tell me I’ve broken you already?” He flexed his hips, pushing against Styx’s entrance but not yet penetrating. “I thought there was more fight in you than this.”



Styx growled, shifting under the other man’s weight.



“Go suck an exhaust pipe you piece of carrion filth.”



Alejandro laughed, a low, rich sound, his chest rumbling against Styx’s back.



“That’s more like it. The truly submissive are never as satisfying.” He straightened up, patting Styx’s rump like one would the head of a loyal dog, drawing an acutely canine snarl from the lycanthrope. Smirking, Alejandro kicked the younger man’s legs apart and moved between them. “This is your first time, is it not?” When it became apparent no answer was forthcoming, Alejandro chuckled and continued speaking. “Your silence, as your fear, is answer enough.”



He gripped Styx’s buttocks with both hands, digging strong fingers into flesh, kneading and separating his cheeks. Styx squeezed his eyes closed and couldn’t quite suppress the moan of despair that rose in his throat and slipped past his lips. He’d been a fool to come here. There had to have been another way to get the money Rafael needed. It was too late now.



“Don’t worry puppy. I’ll make sure your first time is one to remember.”



The words echoed in Styx’s ears, and then all he knew was the pain. Alejandro didn’t bother to prepare or lubricate him. He took him as he was, tight and dry and completely helpless to do anything to prevent the invasion of his body. A voice somewhere at the back of his head told him he should try to relax, to ease the way, but with Alejandro’s cock pushing into him, threatening to rip him in half, it was all Styx could do to keep himself from screaming.

That first slow, agonising thrust seemed to last forever. Styx felt every inch of it, every slow second of Alejandro’s progress deeper and deeper into his body. Gods, would it never stop? Tears pricked his eyes, but Styx savagely refused to let them fall. He would not cry. He would not let this man see him cry. But if he could stop the tears, Styx couldn’t keep himself from voicing his pain. Air hissed through his teeth then gave way to a shuddering cry, thankfully muffled by the mattress.



Nevertheless, Alejandro heard him, and the sound spurred him to complete his penetration with a sharp thrust, grunting with satisfaction. Styx sobbed as he felt something tear inside him, at the same time something broke in his spirit. His hands, still bound painfully behind his back, clenched into fists and he pressed his face deeper into the musty smelling mattress.

Alejandro leaned forward slightly and stroked Styx’s hair, his touch mockingly gentle.



“Mmm, you feel so good puppy ... So tight.” As he spoke he withdrew almost completely from Styx’s body, then accented the final word by slamming himself back in.



Lubricated with Styx’s own blood, the second thrust wasn’t quite as bad as the first, but it still sent fire and lightening lancing up the younger man’s spine, brutally tearing his inner walls. After that it all just blended together in Styx’s mind. The pain, the horror, the sound of Alejandro’s ragged breathing and the pounding of flesh on flesh, the broken feeling inside himself. Eventually, he felt Alejandro stiffen, felt the hot, nauseating sensation of the older man’s cum filling him up, then leaking out, mixing with the blood as Alejandro withdrew his now flaccid penis.



Styx didn’t move. He just lay there, bent over the bed, listening as Alejandro cleaned himself up and dressed, floating amid a sea of pain and shame. Even when the other man approached him once more, fitted a key into the shackles and released him, Styx didn’t move any further than the floor. His legs collapsed beneath him as he slipped off the bed, curling into a miserable ball on the worn carpet. His thighs were sticky with cooling body fluid and he was hurting in places he hadn’t even known existed before tonight. All he wanted to do was fall asleep and never wake up.



Alejandro stood watching him for a few long minutes, then shrugged and strode to the door to collect his bag. As he unlocked the door and swung it open, he glanced back over his shoulder;



“You did well puppy. I’ll be sure to sing your praises to Mephistopheles.”



Then the door closed, and Styx was left alone once more. Only then, lying naked and used on the floor, did he allow the tears to slip unfettered down his cheeks.



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