Vic's Story
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Vic's Story

An Excerpt From My Fantasy Series

Vic's Story

Thick, callused hands, attached to heavy sweaty bodies, feeling every inch and sliver; every curve and intimate area; always trying to find their own pleasure. The hands never cared how rough they were as they held tight around her neck and they never cared how hard they slapped or punched. To the hands, she was a toy to play with, however and whenever they desired. There was no saying no to the hands. The endless pairs of hands lined up, one after another, waiting for their chance to feel her supple skin, and for the promises of pleasure at her expense.

The Red Rose was the most popular whorehouse in all of Saxen, which meant she could make a decent living from all these hands. As an unmarried woman, she needed financial stability. She could remember the words of her mother from when she was a child: Whores are despicable. You, my dear Vic, will marry a good man, who will take care of you so you do not have the need to become one of them. No one called her Vic anymore; her mother had died five years earlier, luckily never knowing what had become of her only daughter. She was now the vivacious Victoria; the girl of every man's dreams, or so she was advertised. She stood no taller than the average person's chest. Her hair, dark as night, cut to her shoulder blades, topping off her petite and lustful form.

Shaking her head, cursing herself for thinking of how she was advertised, she continued walking along the road. It was high time for the other townsfolk to be out at the markets and stands, which made walking around the town harder. She needed to keep her mind on her task. To her, it felt as if every pair of eyes was set squarely on her; as if she had a sign marking her for a whore everywhere she went. However, they did not know what else she was.

She was the needed change. Saxen had begun to fall apart since King Gregor named Isaac Mills as his advisor and leader of the army two years back. With this change, the army seemed to be growing, while tenured and loyal members were disappearing. The rumors of late night murders at Isaac's behest, Isaacs's true loyalty and how the growing army seemed to be from mercenaries who were loyal to Isaac instead of to Saxen and King Gregor. Rumors are never good for a King and his nation. When rumors spring up, people begin to question the amount of control the king holds.

Since becoming a whore, Vic learned to trust her gut feeling in order to keep her safe; especially when she was walking in the night. Over the past two years, women had begun to go missing. The women were abducted from the streets and some were later found dead without a sign of how they perished. Vic understandably did not want to become one of them.

The night she realized that she was special was cold and pitch dark. She had just finished with her last pair of hands and was on her way back to her tiny shack for the night. She was sullen as she sulked home. She was alone on the street, when a figure approached, dressed in dark breeches and a matching hooded cloak. He silently stood brooding as she began to become fearful.

"Excuse me sir, may I help you?" Vic said innocently. She wondered if he was just a pair of hands that wanted another turn with her. The man met her with more silence. "Sir?"

He steadily began walking towards her, as a passing cloud revealed light from the full moon, illuminating a crooked grin on the man's face. "You, dear, are quite special. Did you know that? I am here for you." The man said.

"I'm done working tonight. You will need to come by the Red Rose tomorrow." Said Vic, as a pit grew in her stomach.

"Ha, I'm not here for business, slut. I am not another one of those disgusting men that you love to pleasure. I come from the ruler himself; Isaac. He knows what you are hiding and wants you to join him. You have no choice. I will be taking you to him right now."

Fear reaching its limit within her body; the pit in her stomach fills her entirely with a sense of void and calm. She is suddenly able to make out his face without the moon's help. He appears calm and sure of himself; sure that he is to succeed in capturing her with ease. Before she understands what is happening, she is behind him. Confused he spins to face her, whispering, how the fuck? She wonders the same thing. He shakes his head and starts for her again; and again, she is behind him before she can blink an eye. Girl, what the fuck are you doing? He roars, his face portraying a sense of fear. I was warned you may have use of some of your powers, but he was sure you would not fully understand how. It is irrelevant; I will still capture you and Isaac will be happy with me and give me higher standing.

"What powers? What are you talking about? The only thing I seem to know how to do, is pleasing the pitiful men that come to me. Am I to become a private concubine for Isaac?"

"Really? You ask me those questions. Are you just going to ignore the fact that you keep appearing behind me? Never mind, I don't want to talk anymore. You my dear are coming with me now!" He said, starting now to run for her.

This time, she appeared by his side, grabbing his outstretched arm and throwing him around into a stonewall. Staggering, he turns to face her as she slams him in the gut with her fist. Clutching him by his neck, as men do to her, she feels anger boiling in her veins. The pit that was once in her stomach explodes into the man. Free from her control, she voices the command, "Tell me everything that is going on in the city. What is Isaac up to and why do women keep ending up dead with no sign as to how they have died?"

"For starters, Isaac is the one now controlling the city. Your precious Gregor, is being held in a dungeon. It is Isaac's duty to pave way for the great return! Our master will be free to return to us in the near future and it is our duty to give him an army. The child believes he can stand against us, and we shall destroy him. Isaac knows about your kind. He wants to turn as many of you as he can to our side before the child succeeds in doing so." The man spat. "You may have stopped me, but Isaac will continue to seek you, and he will succeed in finding you, slut. If you refuse to see the intelligence in joining our cause, then it will be your body that is found in an alley, killed by his magic."

With that, he started laughing at her, and she snapped his neck, forever quieting him and leaving his face forever stuck with a twisted grin.

The day after the attack, she began trying to figure out how she had done the things she did the night before. After continuous failures, she thought she must have been dreaming. When hands came to see her, she could feel the pit in her stomach, the fear, but it never took over her body as it had that one night. The times she tried to see if she could fight the hands off, they just laughed at her while controlling her with ease. She was no match for a man.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.

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