Owned By You

⚠️ WARNING MATURED CONTENT⚠️

(SUMMER POV)

The sun was already slipping lower in the sky when I left the hospital. My legs felt heavy, but I couldn't afford to rest. The bus ride back was slow, every bump rattling through the metal frame. I stared out the window, watching the city blur by. Somewhere behind me, my mother's voice still echoed in my head:

"Fix your hair, Summer. Be decent."

I almost smiled. Almost.

By the time I reached the street where I worked, the sky had turned orange-gray. The alley smelled of smoke, sweat, and frying oil, the same scent that clung to me every night. The club's neon sign flickered weakly overhead, buzzing like a dying fly. I pulled open the back door and slipped inside.

The noise hit me immediately, music thumping from the main room, voices shouting orders, and the faint smell of cheap perfume mixing with liquor. I barely had time to breathe before someone shouted my name.

"SUMMER!"

I turned. It was Marco, one of the senior staff. His face was red, his tie half undone. He stomped toward me, waving his clipboard like a weapon.

"You're late!" he snapped. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

I opened my mouth to explain, but he cut me off.

"Don't even start with excuses! The boss is already pissed. You were supposed to be here an hour ago!"

"I came from the hospital-"

"I don't care where you came from!" he barked. "You're working tonight, so move! Go take a shower now and wear this!"

He shoved a bundle of clothes into my hands, a black dress, tight and simple, with a pair of heels dangling from the fabric.

"Quickly!" he snapped. "You smell like smoke and sweat. We have VIP guests tonight, and you can't show up looking like a stray cat!"

I clenched my jaw. The old Summer might've snapped back, but I bit my tongue. I needed the job. I needed the money.

"Fine," I muttered.

He pointed to the small dressing room at the end of the hall. "Five minutes!"

I walked toward it, my shoulders stiff. The moment the door shut behind me, I dropped the clothes onto the chair and turned on the shower. The water sputtered, then came out cold. I gasped as it hit my skin, but I didn't care. I scrubbed hard, washing away the grime, the blood, the dust from the streets, the memory of the fight.

For a moment, I closed my eyes and let the water run down my face. I thought of my mother again, her fragile smile, her hand on my cheek. "Brush your hair, hija."

When I stepped out, steam filled the small room. I dried off quickly and slipped into the dress. It fit snugly, hugging my waist and shoulders. The heels were a little too tall, but I'd walked in perfectly.

I walked over to the cracked mirror and looked at my reflection. My hair was a tangled mess from the wind. My skin looked pale under the harsh light. I sighed and picked up the small makeup kit from my locker, foundation, a bit of eyeliner, red lipstick. I moved slowly, carefully, like my mother was watching me from that hospital bed.

"Be decent," I whispered under my breath.

The eyeliner sharpened my eyes. The lipstick made me look alive again. I brushed my hair until it shone under the light, then tied it loosely at the back, letting a few strands fall over my face. For the first time in a long while, I didn't look tired, I looked ready.

When I stepped out of the dressing room, Marco looked me over and gave a sharp nod. "Finally," he said, his tone softer now. "That's more like it. The guests are already here, table seven. Try to smile."

I forced a small grin, grabbed my tray, and walked toward the main floor.

As I passed the hallway mirror again, I caught my reflection. Clean face, neat hair, red lips, my mother's voice whispered faintly in my head, almost proud.

And for a brief second, I felt like I wasn't just surviving. I was trying.

I walked into the bar, looking sexy in my short dress. Men stared at my body as I passed. I found a stool at the bar and sat down, crossing my legs so my thigh showed. The bartender saw me and nodded. He knew what I was there for.

"Whiskey, neat," I said, putting money on the bar. The whiskey burned as I drank it. I looked around the room, searching for men with money who might want to pay for my services.

I saw a group of rich businessmen in a corner booth. They checked me out with hungry eyes. I knew they were rich by their expensive suits and the way they acted like they owned the place.

I started walked over to their booth and a man stood up to greet me. "Hello there, beautiful," he said, looking at my body. "What brings you here?"

"I wanted to meet an interesting man," I replied. "Someone who knows how to make a woman feel good."

The man smiled and moved so I could sit next to him. His hand grabbed my thigh. "I can make you feel amazing," he whispered in my ear. "Like you never have before."

I shivered. I knew men like him, they thought they were in charge but really I held the power. I could make them do what they wanted.

Leaning close, I touched his face. "I bet you can," I said in a sexy voice. "But first, buy me another drink. Then we'll see what happens."

The man grinned and got me another whiskey. As we drank, I flirted and teased, making him want me more. I knew it wouldn't be long before he took me somewhere private, eager to fuck.

Until then, I played my role, seducing men, making them believe they had control when really I did. It was how I survived in a world that demanded submission. I had learned to use my body to get what I needed.

I kept playing the game, pretending to enjoy the men's attention and touches. Deep down, I felt empty inside. But I had to keep up the act, had to pretend I wanted this life.

I could feel the man's eyes roaming over my body as he closed the door to the private room behind us. I knew that look all too well, the hunger, the desire to possess and control.

"Strip for me," he growled, his voice rough with lust. "I want to see what I'm paying for."

I nodded, playing along. I reached back to unzip my dress, letting it pool at my feet and leaving myself standing there in nothing but with lacy bra and panties. The man's eyes darkened as he took in my curves, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"Fuck, you're even hotter than I thought," he murmured, moving closer to run his hands over my body. "I can't wait to get my hands on you."

I got shivered at his touch, at the harshness of his grip as he squeezed my tits through the thin lace of my bra. This was what I had to offer, my body, my submission, the illusion that I wanted this as much as he did.

The man reached around to unclasp my bra, letting it fall to the floor and exposing my bare breasts to his hungry gaze. He bent down to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud until I couldn't help but moan.

"Yes, just like that," I gasped, arching my back to push more of my flesh against him. "Suck on my tits, make me feel good."

The man grinned up at me, his hand moving down to cup my pussy through my panties. "Oh, I'll make you feel good," he promised darkly. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

I shuddered at his words, at the promise of pleasure and pain. I knew what he wanted, to use my body for his own gratification, to treat me like a disposable object.

But it was what I had to offer, what I had trained myself to provide. So I played along, letting him strip off my panties and expose my glistening folds to his hungry eyes.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he growled, running a finger along my slit. "You want it bad, don't you? Want my big cock inside you."

"Yes," I panted, spreading my legs wider in invitation. "I need it. I need you to fuck me hard."

The man wasted no time, shoving two fingers inside my tight channel and pumping them in and out. I cried out at the sudden intrusion, my hips bucking against his hand as he fingered me roughly.

"Please," I begged, my voice high and breathy with need. "Fuck me with your cock. I want to feel you stretching me open."

The man smirked, pulling his fingers out and replacing them with the head of his thick shaft. "Beg for it," he demanded, teasing me entrance with shallow thrusts. "Tell me how badly you need my cock."

"Please," I whimpered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me hard and make me come all over your cock. Please, just give it to me!"

The man grunted in satisfaction, gripping my hips and slamming forward to bury himself balls-deep inside my sopping cunt. I screamed at the sudden invasion, my pussy clenching around him as he began to pound into me relentlessly.

"Fuck, yes," he snarled, his hips snapping back and forth as he drilled into me. "Your pussy feels so good around my cock. I'm going to ruin you for any other man."

I could only moan in response, lost in the pleasure and pain of being so thoroughly used. I knew this was what he wanted, to claim me, to make me his property for a brief moment in time.

And so I gave in, surrendering myself completely to the sensations coursing through my body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him deeper as he fucked me with abandon.

"Yes, fuck me harder," I cried out. "Fuck me until I can't take anymore."

The man growled, pounding into me with renewed ferocity. I could feel my orgasm building, could sense the impending rush of ecstasy that would sweep over me.

"Come for me," he demanded, his voice tight with his own impending release. "Come all over my cock, baby! Taste it! "

And with a scream of pleasure, I came undone, my pussy clamping down around him as wave after wave of intense bliss crashed over me. The man followed a moment later, spilling his hot seed deep inside me convulsing cunt as he shuddered with his own climax.

For a moment, we lay there panting, our bodies still joined as the aftershocks of our mutual pleasure faded away. But I knew it wouldn't last, soon he would pull out, tuck himself away, and leave me empty and used once more.

And I would be left to pick up the pieces of myself, to try and piece together the fractured remains of my humanity in the aftermath of yet another transaction. But for now, I closed my eyes and let myself drift in the lingering sensations, knowing that at least for a little while, I had survived.

"Thanks for tonight, baby!" The man said before leaving me again naked.