As I kept close behind him, I couldn't help but stare at the way that single stripe of grey seemed to cling to his cheek, almost stubborn against the sweat that beaded there. I wanted to reach out, brush it away, see if it felt as soft as it looked. It was a flaw, but somehow it made him more perfect.
His skin glistened under the faint glow of the lights, a sheen of sweat from the heat that hung heavy in the air down here. I barely noticed it; the Vault was sweltering in certain places, but all I could think about was him. I was so lost in that thought, so caught up in the fantasy, that I barely noticed the world around me fading into the background.
We approached a vendor stall that stood out even amidst the chaos. The space was draped in dark, velvety fabrics that shimmered under the dim lights, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. A woman stepped out from behind the curtains—a vision so beautiful it made me feel almost plain in comparison. Her skin was flawless, her long white hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall. Everything about her was poised, perfect, and captivating. I felt a twinge of insecurity prick at my chest, the kind I wasn't used to feeling.
She greeted Oliver with a kiss on the cheek, her lips lingering a second too long. "Oliver," she purred, her voice smooth like silk, "It's always a pleasure to see you." She turned her attention to me, her eyes sweeping over me from head to toe. "And who's this lovely creature?" she asked, her tone dripping with a mix of curiosity and condescension. "She's beautiful. You're going to make a high compensation off her."
I felt her gaze like a weight, and for a moment, I didn't know whether to feel flattered or insulted. The way she looked at me, I could tell she saw me as some sort of new toy for Oliver. A new asset for him to exploit.
Maybe I was.
Oliver glanced over at me, a smirk playing at his lips. "She has more to offer than just a pretty face. I'm curious to see how far she'll go", he said smoothly, his voice carrying a hint of something darker, something possessive. His eyes held mine for a moment.
But just as quickly as he turned his attention to me, it shifted back to her. "Aspen," he said, his tone softening as he spoke her name, "show me your top luxury products. I'm in the mood for something special for her."
Aspen's smile grew wider, a calculated gleam in her eye. She seemed to thrive on his attention. "Of course, darling," she replied. Her eyes lit up when Oliver reached into his pocket and handed her a sleek, black ticket. She took it with a practiced smile, her fingers brushing his as she accepted the payment. "Oh, a black ticket," she murmured, a tone of genuine interest slipping into her voice. "You must be in the mood for something truly exceptional."
"Come with me," she instructed, motioning for us to follow her. She pulled aside a heavy, dark curtain, revealing a hidden space behind her stall. I felt a flutter of nerves as we stepped through. The space opened into a room filled with beautiful, luxurious lingerie, each piece more intricate and delicate than the last. The air was perfumed with a rich, heady scent, almost intoxicating.
I couldn't help but be drawn to the fabrics, my fingers grazing over the lace and silk that hung on the walls. The way the light caught the delicate details; it was like each piece was whispering promises of seduction. I wasn't sure if I was more entranced by the beauty of the lingerie or the undercurrent of danger that seemed to permeate the air.
Aspen moved gracefully among the racks, her every movement precise and deliberate. "These are our finest pieces," she explained, holding up a stunning, deep crimson set with delicate embroidery. "Exclusively tailored for our most… discerning clients." Her eyes moved to Oliver, then back to me. I could feel the weight of their gaze, as if I were some rare animal on display.
Oliver's hand brushed against my arm, a subtle reminder of his presence. That brief contact sent a jolt through me, drawing my attention back to him. I didn't know what he was thinking, what he was planning, but I knew one thing for certain—I was caught in his game now, and there was no backing out.
Oliver's eyes scanned the rows of luxurious lingerie, moving from one set to another with a discerning eye. He reached out and gently ran his fingers over a lace set in deep emerald green.
"I like this one," he said, picking it up and holding it out for me to see. "It's almost too delicate, like it might tear if you breathed wrong," he commented with a smirk. "But that's the point, isn't it?"
He moved on, his hand brushing over a silk set that caught his attention. The panties were a thong, held together by thin straps that tied at the sides with tiny bows. "Silk," he said, almost in a whisper, "always feels the best against the skin. Imagine the sensation… like being touched by a whisper, all over."
Finally, his gaze landed on something darker, more daring. He reached out and pulled down a set crafted from black leather. The bra was structured with underwire and buckles, straps crossing over the chest in a way that was more commanding than seductive. It looked like it could cinch tight, controlling every movement. "This one," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, "is for when you're ready to be in control. For when you want to make sure everyone knows exactly who's calling the shots."
The weight of his words settled over me, and I could almost hear my own heartbeat echoing in my ears. I imagined myself in that set, with the leather tight against my skin, the buckles and straps holding me together. It was powerful, almost intoxicating.
He looked back at me, his eyes alight with a mix of amusement and intrigue. "So, what's your take on these, Lux?" he asked, his voice laced with flirtation.
I reached out, my fingers tracing the contours of the leather set, feeling its weight and texture. "I like this one the most," I said, my voice steady. Internally, I couldn't help but think about the power and control it symbolized.
Aspen watched us with a raised eyebrow, clearly entertained by the game Oliver was playing. "Excellent choices," she said, almost purring with approval. "I'm sure you'll get your money's worth, Oliver."
Oliver's eyes shifted between me and the sets of lingerie. A slow, calculating smile spread across his lips. "Actually, Aspen," he said, his voice soft but commanding, "why don't you help Lux try them on first? I want to see how they fit."
I felt a jolt of nervous energy shoot through me. Aspen's smile widened, a glint of mischief in her eyes as she looked me over. "Of course," she purred, stepping closer to me, her beauty up close even more striking. "I'd be delighted."
She took my hand gently, her touch cool and smooth, and led me behind a heavy velvet curtain that hung from the ceiling. The space behind it was twilight-like, with a single, soft light casting a warm glow. There was a small chair and a full-length mirror that made the space feel even smaller, almost intimate. The scent of lavender and something muskier filled the air.
"Don't be shy, love" Aspen said, her tone both reassuring and teasing. She hung three sets on a hook and turned to me with a knowing smile. "You're about to see yourself like never before."
Aspen's hands were gentle but firm as she helped me out of my clothes. As she ran her hands across my chest, her touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary, she commented with a sly smile, "You've got quite the figure. Firm and just the right shape." Her fingers brushed lightly against my skin, and I felt a shiver run through me. Her touch ignited a flush of arousal.
After trying on the first few sets, Aspen handed me the leather set, her expression turning more serious. "This one is different," she said. "It's not for everyone."
The leather hugged me tightly, the straps wrapping around my body with a sense of dominance. I felt the leather constrict slightly as Aspen tightened the buckles, the pressure grounding me.
I stood before the mirror, my breath shallow. The leather gave me a sense of power I hadn't felt before. It wasn't soft or delicate; it was raw and commanding. Aspen stepped back, her lips curving into a sly smile. "Now that," she murmured, "is a statement."
Oliver's voice came from beyond the curtain, smooth and expectant. "How does it fit, Lux?"
I glanced at Aspen in the mirror, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of encouragement and something else—maybe a challenge. I took a deep breath, then stepped out from behind the curtain, feeling the leather tighten against me with every step.
Oliver's eyes darkened as they roamed over me, his smile deepening. "Perfect," he said, his voice low and approving. "Exactly what I had in mind."
Each piece clung to my skin, beautiful but binding, like I was being molded into someone else. Aspen's gaze lingered on me as if she knew I was caught, unable to decide whether to revel in the attention or recoil from it.
God, I loved hearing his approval.
I hated that I loved it.
It twisted something deep inside me, like I was betraying a version of myself. But every time his eyes loomed over me, every time he offered a smile or a low buzz of satisfaction, it felt like a hit.
I wanted more. His age and experience only intensified my drive to prove myself, to earn his attention. That desire churned within me, leaving a bitter taste of self-disgust, making me feel vulnerable in a way I couldn't ignore—yet still, I craved it.
As I put my street clothes back on, the familiar fabric felt oddly confining, almost mundane after the striking image I'd seen in the mirror. My reflection seemed to be a distant memory, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd been transformed into something more intriguing—something I wasn't entirely sure how to handle.
Aspen gathered the sets of lingerie, along with a few more she had selected, and neatly placed them into a sleek bag. She approached me with a warm, reassuring smile. "Don't worry, doll," she said, her tone both confident and comforting. "These will fit just fine. You'll look absolutely stunning in them."
Aspen leaned in, her lips brushing against mine in a soft, unexpected kiss. The touch was delicate and lingering, sending a flush of warmth through me.
She ran her fingers through my hair, her touch both soothing and intimate. "Raya can add a little something special to soften up her rugged look," she suggested to Oliver. "It'll help make her more... appealing."
Oliver thanked Aspen with a nod, then pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Where's Raya's setup now?" he asked, his tone casual.
Aspen pointed towards the back of her own stall. "She's set up shop temporarily in my storage room," she explained. "Raya got herself into some trouble and is laying low for a while. But for you, Oliver, she's always available."
We approached the back of Aspen's stall. The storage room was washed in a soft, muted glow, cluttered with various items, but it had been transformed into an oddly charming space. It was clear that this was where Raya had made her temporary home.
Oliver pushed the door open, and I followed him inside, greeted by the sight of Raya. She was a short, quirky girl with a pixie cut that defied gravity and a grunge clothing style. Black jeans, combat boots, spiked belt, mesh top. Her accent was heavy, like she spent her life in the streets of New Jersey, her voice a bit high pitched but her energy infectious.
"Oliver!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she bounced on her heels. "Long time no see! And who's this lovely lady?"
Oliver turned to me and said, "Lux, meet Raya. She's going to help you with a bit of a makeover."
Raya's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she took in my appearance. "Oh, she's absolutely gorgeous," she said, clapping her hands together. "Oliver, your clients are going to adore her. Don't you worry, hun. We're gonna make you look stunning."
Raya stood on her tiptoes and reached out, running her fingers through Oliver's hair with a familiarity that made me feel a pang of jealousy. "You're due for a trim soon, you know," she said, her voice playful and teasing. "I can't believe you haven't come by sooner."
Oliver chuckled, running a hand through his hair to smooth it down. "I'll make an appointment soon," he promised, his gaze shifting back to me. "For now, let's focus on Lux."
Raya's excitement was palpable as she turned her full attention to me. "Alright, sweetie, let's get started. I have a feeling we're going to make some magic happen here."
"Oh, Lux, you've got the perfect face for this look," Raya chattered enthusiastically as she worked. "I swear, you're going to turn heads everywhere you go. You know, this color really brings out your eyes. And did I mention how much I love that punky vibe? It's like you've got this edgy, sophisticated thing going on, and it's just brilliant. I'm so glad Oliver brought you in. I've been dying to try this new technique on someone, and you're just the right person. I've got this whole vision in my head of how you're going to look."
Raya continued her enthusiastic babble, her fingers working skillfully through my hair. "You know, I had this one client who asked for something similar, but they didn't have the guts to go through with it. But you? You've got the guts. I can tell you're a bit nervous, but trust me, you're going to look amazing. Just wait until you see the finished product. It's going to be like a new you!"
I couldn't help but reflect on how much control I had ceded to Oliver. It was unsettling to think that my freedom, my independence, had been exchanged for something as intangible as debt and lust.
Raya's chatter continued, "You know, I once had this idea for a haircut that combined all these different styles, but I never had the right person to try it on. But with you, I feel like it's finally coming to life. And don't worry about a thing. We're going to make sure you're not just ready for the clients but that you're going to shine for them. You're special, you know?"
I nodded absently, the weight of my new reality settling in. The idea that I was someone's possession, that I had allowed myself to be so completely controlled, felt both foreign and disturbing.
She trimmed my hair to mid-back length, shaping it with careful attention to detail. The result was a stylish, edgy look that felt both sophisticated and bold.
As Raya worked, her fingers light and nimble, she asked, "So, how'd you end up in this situation? What's your story?"
I hesitated for a moment, then recounted the fiasco at the theater, detailing how I ended up with the violet ticket and the predicament I found myself in. My voice was steady, but the memory made me uneasy.
Raya giggled softly, clearly finding some amusement in my story. She glanced over at Oliver, a playful look in her eye. "So, Oliver, is the theater performing as well as you thought it would?" she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.
Oliver's eyes met hers with a hint of satisfaction. "It's performing well above what we imagined," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "We've had a lot of interest, and it's proving to be quite the draw."
Raya's smile widened, and she gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Well, you're in good hands now," she said, her voice warm. "We'll get you looking just right, and you'll be all set." She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You know," she said softly, "you must be something really special for Oliver to put so much into you."
Her words were laced with a mix of admiration and intrigue, and despite the flattering tone, I couldn't shake the nervous flutter in my chest. I looked at her through the mirror, her expression a mix of curiosity and genuine interest. It was clear that Oliver's attention and investment in me were becoming a topic of interest among those who knew him well.
Oliver's glanced at Raya with a grin. "Lux here is going to be the star of my Violet Room," he said confidently. "I already know a few clients who will pay top dollar for a beauty like her." His gaze shifted to me, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "But I'll need to adjust her attitude a bit," he added, his tone playful and flirtatious.
I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks, the compliment and the underlying challenge making my heart race.
Raya flashed me a playful grin. "Don't worry, your attitude is just fine," she said with a wink. "It's got that same edge I've got." She turned to Oliver, teasingly adding, "Some men like a challenge, you know."
As Raya finished up with my hair, she gave me a satisfied nod. "You look fantastic," she said, her fingers brushing away any loose strands. "You don't need much makeup, just a touch of mascara and some lipstick. You're naturally beautiful." Her compliment was sincere, and it made me flush a little. "If I could, I'd keep you all to myself," she added with a wistful smile.
Oliver handed Raya a green ticket, and she looked at it with a skeptical raise of her eyebrow. "Really, Oliver? This is the best you can do?" she teased, her voice dripping with playful disappointment.
He sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few more green tickets, which he handed to her. "Alright, alright. Here's a bit more," he said, clearly conceding to her demands.
Her eyes lit up, and she hopped in place a few times, her excitement bubbling from her expression. "Now that's more like it!" she exclaimed, clearly thrilled.
Oliver shook his head, a chuckle escaping his lips. "You're a good negotiator, but you're going to bleed me dry at this rate."
Raya shrugged with a grin. "Hey, green tickets are the only way I can get meth and crack from a good vault dealer to sell on the streets. You know how it is."
Oliver gave Raya a knowing look. "You know, you could just buy directly from me, and you wouldn't have to go through all this hassle with green tickets."
Raya shook her head firmly. "I appreciate the offer, Oliver, but I'm not looking to get tangled up in that kind of business with you. I'd rather not end up on the receiving end of your clients, racking up a debt I can't handle. You know how it is—I'd prefer to keep my dealings clean."
Oliver chuckled, nodding in understanding. "Fair enough. Just make sure you keep it above board, alright?"
I raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Well, dealing meth and crack doesn't exactly scream 'clean dealings' to me."
Raya burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "See, I knew she had fire in her," she said, glancing at Oliver. "If Lux is anything like me, you'll have a hard time breaking her into your world of work. She's got that edge, you know?"
Oliver's grin widened, clearly intrigued. "You think so, huh?"
Raya nodded with a playful glint in her eye. "Absolutely. She's got spirit. Just wait and see. She's not going to be an easy one to mold."
As we made our way back into the main vault area, the atmosphere shifted from the cozy, chaotic space of the salon to the more austere, organized chaos of the vault. The walls seemed to close in around us.
A man in a sharp suit approached Oliver, his expression serious. He held out a few black tickets. "I won't be needing these anymore," he said with a hint of finality in his voice. "I'm pulling my dealings out of the vault and relocating. The government is too involved in my accounts lately."
Oliver took the black tickets with a steady hand, nodding thoughtfully. "I see. So, you're moving on, huh?"
The man nodded. "Yeah, I've got some business partners who'll be taking over. I need my product returned. I trust you'll handle it?"
Oliver assured him, "Of course. I'll have Marge clean up your account and make sure your products are returned to you. You'll get everything back as promised."
The man's gaze softened slightly, a hint of relief in his eyes. "I appreciate that, Oliver. It's been a pleasure working with you."
Oliver gave him a nod of acknowledgment. "Likewise."
The man winked as he turned to leave, his departure marked by a subtle air of mystery. I watched him go. I wondered about the shifting alliances and the intricate web of transactions that played out in this underground world.
I couldn't help but ask, "So, how does this ticket system of yours actually work?"
He glanced at me with a smirk. "It's quite simple, really. The black ticket is for high-level access and exclusive deals. It's what you saw at the theater. The violet ticket, like the one you had, signifies a debt. Those are typically redeemed through me. It's a way of keeping track of obligations and ensuring that the balance is settled, one way or another."
I frowned, trying to wrap my head around it. "And the green tickets?"
"Green tickets," he said, "are a bit different. They're used for transactions in the underground market—drugs, services, and other illicit goods. They hold value but are not as high-profile as black tickets."
I nodded, feeling a bit more informed. "So, the color and type of ticket really dictate the kind of transaction and its importance?"
"Exactly," he confirmed. "Each ticket has its own purpose and value, helping maintain order in the chaos of the Vault."
As we continued walking, I asked, "So, when Raya uses her green tickets, what all exactly can she do with them?"
Oliver glanced at me; his expression thoughtful. "Green tickets are versatile. She can use them to redeem drugs or services directly from me, or she can trade them with other dealers. Some of my services are only accessible through these tickets, so dealers without direct access will give her better deals in exchange. She leverages them well to maximize her returns."
I nodded, understanding the complex web of transactions in this dark world.
His gaze shifted to my hand. "The violet ticket, though, specifically signifies a debt. Only people who directly work for me can give them out. It's not about intrinsic value—it's a mark of what you owe. The violet dye on your hand is a reminder, one that can last for weeks. My door guards know to look for it. So, if you try to leave... you'll find yourself right back here with me. There's only one way to remove it, and that's with a specific chemical I control… or time. By the time the dye wears off naturally your debt should be paid. Theoretically."
I frowned, trying to process this new information. "Seems like a bit of an artistic touch. Dramatic, even."
Oliver's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Artistic, yes. But very effective. It's hard to ignore a reminder that's literally right on your hand."
As we continued down the corridor, I reflected on the man who had just left, "So, do you often deal with people pulling out like that?"
Oliver shrugged, "it's part of the game. People come and go, but the system keeps ticking. Besides, it makes room for new players and fresh opportunities."
I raised an eyebrow. "And do you ever find yourself tempted to venture outside the Vault?"
Oliver's gaze met mine with a flirtatious glint. "Tempted, yes. But I'm quite happy where I am. Though, I do venture outside the Vault occasionally—wouldn't want to miss out on the thrill of watching newcomers like you navigate this world."
His accent made his words sound almost musical, each syllable rolling off his tongue with a smooth, captivating lilt. I couldn't help but enjoy the way he pronounced his words, the accent adding a layer of charm that made his flirtation even more intriguing.