Before reading this will contain sexual abuse but not much of it because I really don't like writing it and it is so not the main focus of this story.

I was one of the best. Highly paid for and constantly asked for so that I was raking in the money.

I made the right noises, said the right words, I'd do what they told me without a complaint. If they wanted me to scream I'd give the best performance. If they wanted me to just lie there and take it I could do that too.

"Dean this is Lucifer" My pimp Crowley, although he makes us call him king, told me.

Lucifer smirked while he looked me up and down. He was deviously good looking with dirty blonde hair and green eyes. "I'd take him"

"Great" I stepped forward towards him but Crowley pulled me back by the hair harshly pulling me into his body. I cried at the pain of it. "Be a good boy" Crowley whispered in my ear running a hand down my body. "Lucifer is a very high client"

"I will" I whispered .

"Good" Crowley let me go and I stumbled right into Lucifer.

"Steady there" Lucifer grinned down at me, I looked up at him. He was freakishly tall, I may be on the shorter side but he seemed to go on for miles. He wound an arm around my waist and walked me out.

"I can walk" I shoved myself away from him once we were outside.

Lucifer laughed running a hand across my cheek which I stood there and took it for. "You're a feisty compliant one aren't you?"

"We going to stand out here forever? Because I don't know about you, but it's cold out here" I started to walk.

"Left" Lucifer called out.

"What?" I turned back around. Lucifer pointed to a sleek black car that looked brand spanking new and damn was it nice. "Cool car" I ran my hand across it.

"Fan of cars eh?"

"Yes"

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen"

"Can you drive?" Lucifer dangled the keys in his hands.

"Really?" I perked up.

Lucifer just dropped the keys on the floor and got into the passenger side. Fair enough. I picked the keys up and then got into the driver's seat.

Cars were my passion. My father had a friend who was like an uncle to me Bobby, owned a car lot where I worked in the garage working on the cars. It was my job straight after school and although it didn't pay much, I was surrounded by cars so I was happy.

I started the car up and relaxed in the seat, glancing across to Lucifer once the car had started. He sat back in the seat, eyes at the front. When he caught me looking at him he offered me a smile, even smiling it came off as a smirk.

If I was impressed by his car it was nothing compared to when we got to his house. It wasn't a massive house it was just an apartment but it was posh, all dark tones and impressionable furniture.

"My bedroom's the first one on the right. I'll go get us a drink" Lucifer strode off down the corridor and I turned from the main room down the opposite corridor. There were two rooms on one side, one on the other and a door at the end of the corridor. I entered Lucifer's room.

It wasn't much different from the rest of the house, dark but nice.

I lounged on the four poster bed which was of course black. The quilt and sheets were cotton not silk like I imagined.

"Here" Lucifer handed me a black and white squared glass of a black liquid. I sipped it tasting fresh cold coke, Lucifer had the same.

"You can watch TV if you want" Lucifer nodded towards the flat screen TV mounted on the wall that I hadn't realised was there.

"Oh okay" All of my clients usually got straight down to business unless they wanted us drunk first.

Lucifer paced the room as I turned the TV on with a mobile in his hand. After five minutes he strode out the room with an "I'll be back" to me as he did.

I watched the TV but on a Friday afternoon there was really nothing on apart from the run-ons of Days Of Our Life's. I was not interested, primarily due to it all being drama which I had plenty enough of.

"My friend is out tonight" Lucifer returned sinking down onto the bed behind me and rubbing my shoulders.

I leaned back into him as his hands wandered from my shoulders trailing slowly down my body. He reached my jeans and snaked his hands under them, one trailing circles on my thigh, the other tracing patterns on my boxers. He gripped me, his finger flicked the head making me buck and moan.

He flipped me on my stomach across the bed with surprising strength as he stretched out my arms and tied something around my wrists. I opened my eyes to see my wrists pined to the bedposts with cloth, his hands then gripped my ankles and tied them up. Cold metal ran across my back and I didn't realise it was scissors until the material of my top collapsed around my body.

"How the fuck do you suppose I get home?" I asked furiously as he did the exact same thing to my jeans.

Lucifer ran a finger down my cheek. "Don't worry about that, my guest is the same size as you. You may borrow his if you please me well" He turned my arm over kneeling over with a needle.

"No" I bucked trying to get away but the bonds securing my body to the bed was too tight. The needle sinked in and I turned my face away.

"Don't worry" Lucifer told me. "It won't affect you"

Lucifer gripped my chin bringing my head towards his where he pressed his lips against mine, his hand wandered down my body as he did.

I closed my eyes and just let him. His lips became harsher; his hands gripped my skin hard. I whimpered making Lucifer smile and them he swung out of my gaze.

He stood behind me, his hands resting on my buttocks. I gripped my fingers over the bedposts, bit down on the bed sheets and closed my eyes.

Just because he was a bit harsher than all the others I had didn't mean it was going to hurt so much. I believed that.

I was ready. I was wrong.

000

I was crying once I had got out his house, stumbling along the street aching like never before.

I had never been seriously hurt on the job. You would think so being a prostitute but I had had the luck of not coming across the sick wacko's out there until now.

I dragged myself home hurting the entire way there and worrying what people would do to me if they saw me in such a weakened state.

I hated what I had to do but it was necessary. It hadn't started until three years ago; three years ago I was thirteen and was just like any other teenager. The only bad thing to have ever happened to me was my mom dying in a mysterious house fire when I was four.

Then my father John, a Marine had fallen gravely ill. And suddenly I had to keep the house going, to bring the money in, to look after my little brother and take care of my ill father. So I found the best way to make money was to sell my body.

When I entered the house it was all silent. Sam was sitting at the kitchen table doing what was most likely his homework. "Hey Dean" Sam grinned once he saw me.

I put on a brave face, biting my lip to hide the pain that was so evident on my face when I walked home. "It's Friday evening and you're doing homework?"

Sam gave me a delirious look. "School hasn't started yet"

"Yeah I knew that" I waved a hand. "Just messing around"

"Okaaaay" Sam dragged the word out turning back to what he was doing. I peeked over his shoulder but Sam quickly put his hand over it.

"I'm working on something, I'll show you when I'm done"

"Okay kiddo" I tousled his hair. "I don't feel too good, so I'm going to lie down. I've ate, can you take care of dinner and dad?"

"Sure Dean" Sam nodded. I squeezed his shoulder and headed for the bathroom. I took a shower cleaning myself, trying to ignore the blood that flowed down the drain. I rummaged in the cupboard finding fast relieving painkillers and climbed into bed. It didn't help anything with the pain; I barely got any sleep because of it.