Alex was into the dimly lit room, the cool air within contrasting starkly with the outside warmth. He was unsure of his exact job, but he knew he was here for a job, distributor or whatever.
As his eyes adjusted, he saw a woman, her hand outstretched, an invitation for a handshake. He grasped her hand, and to his surprise, she pulled him forward with a strength he hadn't anticipated. She eyed him critically, her gaze piercing.
"Did you bring it? The document?" She asked, her tone sharp. "You wouldn't have been able to step through the front door without it, much less have seen... that light."
Alex's mind raced as he recalled the mysterious glint he'd seen in the document. The light wasn't natural – it was magical. He realized the importance of the paper he held, and the intricacy of the enchantments placed upon it.
Swallowing his unease, he replied, "...ahh yes I have it, here you go." He extended the envelope to her, memories of the wild rumors surrounding this place flooding his mind. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, in a place where the ordinary and the supernatural coexisted.
She took the document with a swift motion, her eyes scanning its contents. A brief moment of tension was broken by a chuckle. "Your name is Alex Dick?" She smirked, looking up from the parchment. "Dick? Perhaps your parents choose you this name so, thinking you'd grow into a strong man with strong dick?"
Alex felt a sting of embarrassment. Throughout his childhood, his name had been a source of ridicule. He had been taunted relentlessly, a memory that never failed to fuel his anger.
"Indeed," he responded, his voice tight, "I had my fair share of altercations because of it. Every bullies and who make fun of my name got a taste of my fist. Yet, it was always I who ended up apologizing, thanks to that wretched orphanage director. But I've never let anyone have the last laugh at the expense of my name."
Names. They hold weight, identity, stories and much more.
Ever since the world transformed into this unrecognizable fantasy land of with other races, perhaps even before, names had ceased to matter much. People rarely bothered to ask, and in a world where trust was scarce, sharing was a luxury. To me, my name was more than just a word. It was an uncomfortable reminder for me of my parents and their half assed skilled in naming me.
It echoed with tales of my parents. The same parents who, for reasons unknown, had left me at an orphanage's doorstep.
'Why would parents, about to abandon their child, even bother giving them a name? Well name is better but why the hell you you would give your child a last name Dick? Each utterance of my name was like a ghostly whisper of their absence. I never knew their faces, yet their choice in naming me felt like a cruel joke.'
'Alex' – a beautiful, strong name. But 'Dick'? Did they even bother to name me it was a bet the lose and gave this name?
Alex Dick, they formed a name that seemed almost sarcastic in its position.
I often wished for a more impressive surname, something that would complement 'Alex'. But wishes rarely turned to reality in this broken world.
"...Right, all the paperwork seems to be in order. No medical history. By all appearances, and in document it says you are fit. All that's left is a physical checkup, I guess?"
Lost in thought, I was jolted back to reality by the woman's voice. She had gone through all the papers, probably faster than I'd expected. Her eyes, previously serious, now held a glint of amusement.
"Now, shall we see if the name matches the man?" She said while eyeing me.
Confused, I wondered aloud, "What do you mean, check if the name is worth it?"
The mysterious woman's words lingered in the air, laden with insinuation, "well it is just as I said, shall we check if the name is worth it?"
The audacity of her statement left me speechless, trying to comprehend her meaning. As I stood frozen, contemplating her words, an inexplicable sensation crept over me. Before I could react, my pants seemed to defy gravity, sliding down on their own accord. To my horror, not just my pants but my undergarments followed suit.
Stunned, I tried to vocalize my surprise, "wha-"
She cut me off with a playful whistle, eyes scanning my exposed cock with a mischievous glint. "Seems like your name suits you after all."
Though caught off-guard, I mustered the strength to try and salvage my dignity. I bent down, attempting to pull my pants back up, but an unseen force held me in place. It was like a vice grip, making my movements sluggish, almost nonexistent.
Was it magic? Some otherworldly force? Whatever it was, I was ensnared, held at the whim of the mysterious woman who now seemed to be observing me with a mix of curiosity and amusement.
Pushing past my embarrassment, I found my voice again. "What is this? Why can't I move?"
Was it a blessing or a curse that my vocal cords remained unbound? I wasn't sure. All I knew was that I had to negotiate, communicate, do something to change the situation I found myself in.
As I grappled with the situation, the woman, seemingly amused, tilted her head and responded, "What's the matter? I let you see me in my most embarrassing state. Isn't it only fair that I see you too?"
Her words rendered me momentarily speechless. I wrestled with my thoughts, attempting to discern the logic in her argument. Yes, she had exposed herself to me, but it wasn't as if we had an agreement. I hadn't consented to this bizarre exchange.
Her demeanor shifted subtly, and before I could fathom what was happening, I felt an unseen force drawing me closer to her. There was a gravity about her, both literal and figurative, that seemed to pull me in. Unable to resist, I whispered, "…A… alright, I understand."
Her lips curled into a half-smile. "You are quite the intriguing one."
'Intriguing? Was this a game to her? Was my discomfort nothing more than a source of entertainment?' The very thought made my blood boil, yet a primal fear held my tongue.
I wished I could voice my indignation, my desire for fairness. But deep down, I understood the brutal reality of our world. It was a place where might made right. Those without power were at the mercy of those who had it.