Warning for EXTREMELY sensitive content. The audience is intended to feel uncomfortable about this; this kind of shit does happen in real life because runaways get brainwashed into acting that way. She is eighteen; I would have been too uncomfortable to write her as a minor, but consent is still dubious at best.
Sebastian slowly cruised down the street in one of his favorite classic cars, a Cadillac de Ville. His blue-faced Rolex gleamed in the streetlights. For anyone else, it would have been risky flashing such obvious [money tells], but Sebastian had very little to fear from his recklessness. In fact, he’d chosen this part of town on purpose.
It wasn’t long before what he was looking for found him. A young woman, half-starved and all legs, approached his car, stumbling slightly on her too-high heels. He smiled at her invitingly. “Tell me your price for a week and I’ll double it,” he said. Her eyes widened and she looked nervously over her shoulder. He followed her gaze to the shadows, where her pimp must be, watching. He got out of the car and walked over to the passenger side, smoothing the buttery-soft lapel on his grey Dolce suit. He raised his left hand, making sure his Rolex caught the light as he waved the man over. He pasted a friendly smile—less genuine than the one he’d given the girl—on his face as the pimp ambled over.
“Hey, man,” Sebastian greeted the much more tackily-dressed man, all saggy clothes and gold chains. “I need a date for the week. How much to borrow your girl?”
The man looked Sebastian over, taking in his car, suit, and… his eyes lingered on Sebastian’s wrist. “Nice watch,” he said, clearly deciding Sebastian could afford the girl’s services.
“I have good taste,” Sebastian replied, with a wink at the girl.
“I’ll take it as collateral.” The pimp’s tone was challenging. He wasn’t much to look at, definitely dressed for the streets, with poor posture. Maybe he could have afforded a watch like that on his own, but it wasn’t likely unless he was hiding wealth somewhere. Sebastian figured guys like that liked to be flashy, though, peacocking their money for street cred.
He grimaced, but unlatched it anyway. “Take care of it, it has sentimental value,” he lied. He did quite like that specific watch, but Lucifer could always buy him another just like it if he asked.
“So does she,” said the pimp, with equal, but more obvious, insincerity as he took the watch.
“I’ll take care of her,” Sebastian promised, honestly now. “Good doing business with you.” He walked over to the passenger side and opened the door for the girl. She looked surprised, but got in the car and buckled up. Sebastian strode over to his own side and they were soon off.
He took her to a mall he’d acquired after it had closed down. He’d had it converted to an apartment complex and hired staff to cook their favorite meals in the food court, as well as housekeeping services. All that, plus electricity, Wi-Fi, and streaming services were billed to him. All the residents had to pay was $100 a month.
They went to an unoccupied suite, which used to be a department store. Like every apartment, it was comfortably furnished and had been remodeled to include a shower/tub combo in the bathroom, a laundry room, and a kitchen. It also had a working modem, plasma TV, and Flex box. He’d had plush carpeting put in the living room, hallways, and bedroom.
“Is this your place?” the young woman—who’d told him her name was Darla on the drive over—asked.
“My company owns the building,” he said. It was a simplified explanation. He, Lucifer, Faustus, Trent, and Nathaniel each had a 20% stock. Well, he and Lucifer had a 40% stock as a married couple, but they’d gifted Trent and Nathaniel 20% each before those two had married their spouses. Faustus had 20%, but the company had been formed after his marriage. But Sebastian didn’t think Darla would care about all of that.
He led her to the living room couch and gestured for her to sit down. She did, fidgeting with her hands.
“How old are you, Darla?”
She smiled a canned smile. “How old you need me to be, handsome?”
Sebastian wasn’t buying it. She definitely didn’t look old enough to drink, and it was a gamble if she was old enough to fuck. But if she wasn’t 18, her pimp was forcing her to lie about her age.
“Alright… do you have ID saying you’re at least 21?” he asked. She looked nervous; knowing some girls used assumed names for their own protection, he held up a hand. “I don’t need to see it. I just need to know you have it. Some of the places I want to take you, you have to have proof of age.”
Darla dropped her gaze to her hands. “I’m 18,” she said quietly. Sebastian nodded. He thought she’d say that.
“That’s okay, we can find other venues,” he said, then changed the subject. “Are you hungry? We can order in or I can cook something.”
Darla looked up. She nodded hesitantly. “I like Chinese,” she offered shyly. Sebastian nodded and picked up the landline from the table next to him.
((Fuck transcribing this how it was written in my journal; I’m cutting the conversation because I can’t type Mandarin, Romanized or otherwise.))
He hung up and turned to Darla. “I just ordered us some of everything. If you want more of anything, just let me know, okay?”
“You’re not into any weird stuff, are you?” Darla asked suspiciously. Sebastian laughed.
“I am,” he admitted, “but I’m not going to ask you for it.”
“Why not?” Darla’s tone was still guarded. “Isn’t that what rich guys like you do? Pick up one of us girls from the street, pay us to do all the kinky shit your wives won’t do?”
Sebastian wasn’t sure she’d react well if he told her, actually, he had a husband, not a wife. He just shook his head. “Some guys, maybe. Not me.”
“Well, aren’t you just Prince Charming.”
Sebastian chuckled again. It was good that she was being attitudinal. However uncomfortable she might be, at least she hadn’t been broken by her circumstances.
“We doing this or what?” Darla asked.
Sebastian took her hand and helped her up. “Let’s go to the shower, get cleaned up,” he said. Darla still looked guarded, like she expected him to ask her to do something weird in the shower.
When they got to the bathroom, she stripped and turned the knobs. Sebastian took off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his teal button-down shirt.
“Aren’t you getting in?” Darla asked.
“I’m going to take your clothes to wash first,” he said. She shrugged, so he went ahead and did that. Once he got to the laundry room, he emptied her scant pockets, where she did indeed have an ID. Trying not to look at her name, he checked her birth date. She’d been telling the truth about her age, at least; she was eighteen, if barely. He set the cycle to Normal and dropped in a Cascade pod from the small cabinet on the wall above the washing machine. The one above the dryer contained dryer sheets, and there were an ironing board and an iron across the room.
On his way back to the bathroom, he grabbed two fluffy black towels from the linen closet, along with some jasmine-and-eucalyptus soap. When he got back in the bathroom, he set everything on the black marble countertop and removed the rest of his clothes, folding them neatly and setting them down as well. He brought the soap into the shower, lathered a loofah hanging from the wall, and gently rubbed it in a circle between Darla’s shoulder blades. She didn’t react. He continued to wash her, slowly and gently, thoroughly cleansing her skin. When the loofah approached her backside, she tensed, so he handed her the loofah and set about washing himself with a washcloth. He was interrupted by her pressing the loofah back into his other hand and guiding it to her chest. He nodded and washed her breasts, then let her guide the loofah hand where she wanted to be cleaned next.
“I like your showerhead,” she whispered huskily to him. “I was playing with it while you were gone.” She took the loofah back from him, hung it up, and guided his bare hand down. “I figured you out,” she continued, pressing close to him and raising one leg so she could rest her foot on the edge of the tub. “You’re the kind of guy that wants to be seduced. You weren’t going to make a move” – she began rubbing herself against his hand— “because you want me to go first.”
Wrong and wrong. Sebastian was too stunned to speak, to move, to pull away.
“That, or you’re gay,” she added, almost as an afterthought, though the thought didn’t seem to faze her as she kept rubbing against his hand, guiding his fingers where she wanted them.. “But—mm—why would a gay guy hire a hooker for a week? You bring me here, order me food, you don’t touch me until I make you. Either you’re gay or you’re the nicest john in the world.”
“I—I’m bisexual.” Sebastian had finally found his voice. “And you do realize, whether we sleep together or not, you get paid the same amount?”
She stopped grinding on him and frowned. “So, what, you’re giving me a paid vacation?”
“If that’s what you want.” He shrugged.
“I want you to touch me,” she whispered, rubbing against his hand again.
“Are you really 18?” he whispered back. He doubted the ID he’d found was fake, but wanted to hear it from her.
She scoffed. “Really? Would that make this any more legal?”
Sebastian echoed her scoff incredulously. ‘It would be a hell of a lot less legal if you weren’t,” he pointed out, pulling his hand back.
Darla rolled her eyes. ‘What are you, a lawyer?” she grumbled.
“I’m not a prosecutor, don’t worry,” he said, with just enough irony in his tone and smirk to make it hard for her to tell if he was joking. “Actually, I used to turn tricks, too,” he said, more seriously. “But in the back rooms of a club, and I had a bodyguard. I did it because I liked it… for a while.”
That surprised her. “You liked it?” she asked. Then, “What happened?”
Sebastian’s phone pinged; their food had been delivered, he guessed. He stepped out of the shower, dried his hands, and checked; he was right. He turned the shower off, handed Darla a towel, and inclined his head toward the door. “I’ll tell you while we eat.”
She accepted the towel and his words, dried off, and followed him as he went to answer the door. The sumptuous banquet was wheeled in. They’d leave the cart here and come back for it at his call. He tipped the [footman] and then set about dishing up the food for Darla and himself. Once they’d made themselves comfortable on the couch, Sebastian resumed their conversation.
“Novelty wore off, I guess. Either way, I didn’t want to anymore, so I stopped. I know not everyone has the luxury to just quit, you know so every so often I’ll cruise the streets, look for girls who might not want to be there—”
“—and offer them a paid vacation.” Darla had cottoned on. She spoke with a hand over her full mouth. “That’s real sweet, but what happens when the week’s up and we have to go back to our… ‘boyfriends’?” The last word contained a note of bitterness. Sebastian wondered if the guy had initially presented himself as a boyfriend figure.
He shrugged. “Do you want to go back?”
“No,” she answered, almost before Sebastian had finished speaking.
“Well, this apartment has Wi-Fi, streaming, electricity, food service, all billed to me. It’s owned by a company I formed with a group of trusted friends, so it won’t be easy to find you if you don’t want to be found.
“And what do you want in return?” Darla demanded. “No-one’s that altruistic.”
“You’re right,” Sebastian agreed dryly. “You pay for your own plumbing and maintenance. Tell me immediately if or when you want to move out.”
“And rent? What about rent?”
Sebastian went to the desk by the TV and pulled out a pamphlet. “This is a list of approved charities—the ones that genuinely work with the community, don’t have any major scandals, and don’t, to my knowledge, discriminate on any basis. You can either donate $25 a month to one of them or do volunteer work every week, and I’ll waive the rent. Otherwise, rent is $100 a month.”
“What’s the catch? I just cost you a watch you said had sentimental value. No way it’s that easy for me to just…” She gestured helplessly, but took the pamphlet.
Sebastian just shrugged. “It’s up to you,” he said. “Take it. Don’t take it. You have a week to decide, and I guess the catch is that you’ll have to put up with me as a roommate for a week.” He paused, then added gently, “If you have family or friends, you should probably get in contact with them.”
Darla scoffed and folded her arms. “Yeah, right. My mom and I got in a huge fight. She didn’t like the guy I was dating. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of being right. And none of my friends would let me crash with them, so those bitches are out, too.”
“You really don’t think your mom’s worried about you?” Sebastian asked gently. “She probably knows what happens when girls run off with their boyfriends and it doesn’t work out. Depending how long you’ve been out there, she’d assume it’s the worst-case scenario she knows. You don’t want her to at least know you’re alive and safe?”
Darla glared at him, clearly not appreciating being lectured. But after a minute, her expression softened and she gave Sebastian her mom’s name and phone number.
“Your mom knows you as Darla?”
“Duh,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s what she named me.”
“Some working girls use a different name,” Sebastian replied. He dialed the number. “Hello, I’m trying to reach Deanna Henderson…. Ms. Henderson, my name is Sebastian. I work with Morningstar Industries in Los Angeles. Your daughter, Darla, is safe. She’s having dinner at one of our properties. Are you ready for her to come home?” He stayed quiet while Ms. Henderson unleashed a barrage of questions, like how Darla had gotten to Los Angeles, where her boyfriend was, how Sebastian knew her, and if he knew what time it was. He waited for her to finish, then asked, “Ms. Henderson, where are you located? Your area code looks like Santa Clara…. Phoenix? Oh, I see. I always get them confused…. I’ll be happy to drive her to you in the morning, or I can reimburse you for coming down here and picking her up. We can discuss everything in person and I’ll be happy to answer all your questions. For now, I can tell you she’s got somewhere warm and safe to stay, with plenty of food…. Okay. If you’d like to have law enforcement meet you at the airport and escort you to this address, we’d be happy to arrange it…. Morningstar Industries? We work with various charitable organizations benefitting different facets of the community.. Some members of our team have ties with the LAPD. We’ll do our best to ensure the comfort and safety of you and your daughter during this reunion…. Okay. Can I text our location to this number?”
While he’d been talking with Ms. Henderson, Darla had gone and raided the closet. She stood in front of Sebastian in a sweater dress as close as she could find to her size. It ran a little large, but it was better than the alternative, especially considering she was holding out her hand for the phone. Sebastian nodded and handed her the phone, then made a beeline back to the bathroom to put his own clothes back on and switch Darla’s to the dryer. He caught bits of their conversation as Darla switched the call to a video chat.
“Hi, mom… yeah, I just got out of the shower… umm, he ordered a bunch of Chinese food. It’s really good. He’s so nice, mom, I think you’d really like him… No, he hasn’t touched me. He says I’m too young for him, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be his type even if I was older… No, I did not throw myself at him!”
That was untrue, but her voice was shrill with distress. Sebastian finished buttoning his shirt, all the way to the top, and strode into the room. As soon as he appeared on camera, Ms. Henderson relented.
“No,” she said, relaxing. “I suppose you’d know better.”
Sebastian wasn’t sure if she was being polite in front of a stranger or if she thought Sebastian looked too effeminate to bother flirting with. He smiled and waved at the camera.
“Hello, Sebastian,” said Ms. Henderson. “I wasn’t expecting someone so… wholesome. Do accept my apologies.”
“I completely understand,” Sebastian replied, trying to hide his surprise that anyone could consider him wholesome. “It’s actually a relief that you’re so protective. You clearly love your daughter very much.”
“Of course I do.” She seemed mollified. “What on earth was she doing all the way in Los Angeles?”
Sebastian looked at Darla, who shook her head almost imperceptibly. “The important thing is that she’s okay,” he hedged. He didn’t really want to share how they’d met, either. “When she’s ready, perhaps after a semester of college, I’ll be more than happy to take her on as an intern for college credit.”
The conversation continued for a little while until Ms. Henderson went to bed. Sebastian let them talk while he put the food in the fridge for tomorrow. When Darla hung up, Sebastian took the phone ack and texted the address of the complex. He put the phone on a charger and turned to Darla.
“Where do you want to sleep?” he asked.
Darla fidgeted. “I don’t want to sleep alone,” she said. “I get nightmares.”
“No way.” Sebastian flatly declined. “Your mom’s coming to pick you up in the morning and I do not want to explain us sharing a bed. I don’t care how innocent your intentions are.”
Darla sulked; Sebastian let her. After a few tense moments, she spoke: “You don’t look that much older than me, you know.”
“I’m 35.” Sebastian had been waiting for that… and for Darla to look shocked after he said it.
“N-no you’re not,” she stammered.
He shrugged. “Believe what you want.”
She nodded mutely, then turned and walked to a vacant bedroom. It was already made up, sheets and all. Sebastian, meanwhile, stripped down to his boxer briefs, grabbed a spare duvet from the closet, and curled up under it. Using his own phone, he sent a text to his husband explaining the situation. Someone would have to stay with Darla until her mom arrived. Sebastian would prefer it to be another woman, but, as Lucifer pointed out Darla seemed comfortable with Sebastian, seeing Maze would definitely give Ms. Henderson the wrong idea, and the others would be at work or school.
So Sebastian stayed with Darla until Ms. Henderson arrived. Mother and daughter were reunited mostly without incident; Sebastian had had to reaffirm, of course, that nothing inappropriate had happened between them. He’d also had to find a way to discreetly slip Darla the money he’d promised her. He didn’t want to stiff her, but he also wanted to avoid as many awkward questions as possible.
In the end, the Hendersons got on a plane back to Arizona and Sebastian had the Vanderkeel twins take care of the pimp. They got as many girls as they could to the property Darla had vacated… then the real fun began, at least as far as Désmoda was concerned. To Sebastian, all that mattered was that the girls were safe and he had his watch back.
He set all of them up in their own rooms, explained how food service worked, and offered them the same deal he’d offered Darla regarding rent. Most of them agreed. Some wanted to go home, which Sebastian facilitated to the best of his ability. Some were too young to work but had no family to go home to. Lucifer had contacts who could get them papers so they could work if they wanted to. Some misunderstood what Sebastian was trying to do and suggested with varying levels of cynicism that they should pay him with their bodies. He ignored those suggestions. Some were addicts; since he wasn’t trained in addiction remission, he generally gave those girls what they asked for and made sure they were safe while taking it.
After a certain amount of time, Sebastian became more comfortable with the idea of sleeping with some of the women. They had to be of legal age, they had to have been living there for at least three months (and been at least 18 when they’d moved in), and they had to understand that he wasn’t going to date or exclusively bed them. He let them know up-front not to expect anything more from him. Still, some of them got attached to him anyway. He was, he felt, as kind to them as possible. He allowed them to do almost anything they wanted with him in bed, after warning them he wouldn’t stay the night. He got them off and went home, not caring to indulge how hollow this all felt.
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