HELLO BEAUTIFUL

by evilgrin on 11 Jan 2006, 01:12

::THREE::

I never realized just how much control Ava had over a man until now. Probably something all women do. But Ava does it very deliberately. Plays a role, the clothes she bought for this job just a costume, another mask. Takes her time getting to the table, talking to other customers first, walking by the target’s table a couple of times, knowing full well the effect she’s having.

Completely distracted. I could slip over easily, drug these fuckers drinks, and be done with it. But I am here to watch. Oh, it’s hell, but I rarely get to just watch her.

I do realize one thing though. Ava has never, not even once, played that game with me. Not ever. From the first day we met, over dinner, when I asked her name. She gave me her real name, not an alias. “Professional courtesy”, she said.

Her voice, when it drops to that low whisper, she’s only ever spoken to me like that. She never really lets anyone else touch her either. People take swipes at her. She never stays still to let someone touch her. And she never touches anyone else. Never ever touches their skin. When she swatted that guy that grabbed her ass, she did it with the little pad of paper she was carrying. Like the idea of touching him disgusted her. Never once touched him with her hands.

Come to think of it, aside from the physical contact required to kill someone, Ava hasn’t let anyone touch her. Hasn’t touched anyone else. Not in any way that ever mattered. Except for me.

She’s mine. I never realized how true that was, until I sat here, and really watched her. Not mine because I own her, but mine because she won’t let anyone else but me have her.

I wish I knew then what I know now. It would have saved a lot of hurt. Don’t know if hurt’s even really the right word, or if I’m just trying to make myself feel better about it.

I’ve always wanted to know what would make her afraid. What it would take to control her. Maybe I needed it. I’ve always fucked with people’s heads. I can’t get out of that convict way of thinking. What can I control? How much? For how long?

Mistook her willingness to submit to me as a sign that somehow she had let me do just that. Control her. Wanted to see just how far that would go.

Maybe I just got complacent. Assumed that her submission was something I had won, instead of realizing it was something I had earned. Something earned by not hurting her. Ever. Even when something I asked her to do hurt. Something earned by asking permission, even when I sure as hell didn’t have to.

Looking back, I guess I just wanted to make it clear who was in charge. Make her know who owned who. Teased her all through dinner. Took her back to the ship, slowly undressing her. Asked her to stay still for me, while I played with her just to the point of coming. Everything in her screaming out for me. Asked permission, before cuffing her, and chaining her to a hook in the ceiling.

I never really realized how much she was willing to let me do simply because she trusted me. Because, as I’m slowly learning, to her, she is mine. Because she chooses to be.

I left her like that for hours. Wanted to make her beg me to let her go. She didn’t. She wouldn’t. She just got hurt. Because I hadn’t asked her, and I didn’t give her the chance to agree to it. I didn’t break her. Hell, scarier people than me have tried that with her, from the age of five up. All I did was hurt her. Because she gave me something she hadn’t given to anyone else.

She forgave me, of course. Sure, I cleaned her up, cleaned the urine off the floor when she couldn’t help it. But she trusted me not to leave her like that. And I hadn’t asked if I could do it to her first.

I never realized why she submits, until right this moment, watching her. She would never do it if I didn’t have the need to ask her to all the time. If I didn’t need to know that she’s mine. To prove it to myself. When all I had to do was pay attention.

She has my attention now. Now that I watch her play games with those fuckers. She’s known what control was the whole time. Control without ever touching them. Without ever letting them get to anything of hers that mattered. Even the voice she used was a toy, not a voice she’d use with someone she respected. With me.

Her eyes flick to me, probably wondering why I haven’t done anything yet. Just hold their eye a little longer. Let’s get this over with. The target, don’t even have a name, just the face. A completely average face.

He won’t have it for long. Ava picked up something a little special, on a side trip after picking out her clothes for this job. That cold hard light sparked back into her eyes, when I asked her about it. There are times when she scares the hell out of me.

She does that little fidgety thing she does with her hips. Something she does when she’s wet, when her panties dig in. Except I know she’s not wet. I know her smell intimately. She’s nowhere even remotely close. But it does grab these two fuckers full attention. Completely.

Slip the drug into the last of their drinks. I’ll wait a couple of minutes, and follow Ava out. They’d probably follow her outside anyways, just on her teasing alone. This just clinches it. They just can’t wait to get out of their chairs when she makes the suggestion. I follow a little behind. Outside, to the back, down past the end of the alley, into the abandoned building.

Where she left the bottles of acid.