Bad. Service.

09.14.109 AE Pandora Local Time:

I don't want to write about this.

...

But I will.

The Lodge is a hotel in the Middle Of Nowhere on Xylourgos. And the creepy guy at the desk apparently has a fetish for STARING at you saying nothing… but I did see a "Ring for Service" sign with a little bell.

So I rang it.

"We're... closed."

So I rang it again.

He didn't look up.

I rang it five more times. Fast. Annoying. The way I do things..

And he made this sound… like this low, rumbling growl, and finally looked up at me with those creepy eyes. Something definitely shifted in his expression.

"Perhaps... you require a more... personal service."

I should have left.

Ten minutes later I was bent over his fancy desk (getting to be a theme here...) with the ancient wood creaking under me, and he was buried so deep I could feel him in my throat.

He talks during. Of course he would. This theatrical bastard whispering in my ear about how "exquisite" I feel, how he could keep me here "forever," how the Lodge has been "so lonely" without a guest like me.

Unhinged. Huuuuge dick, but completely unhinged.

"Admit you... enjoy this," he murmured, punctuating it with a thrust that made my toes curl.

"N-no."

"Your moans say... otherwise."

I bit my lip so hard I can still taste it, but it didn't help and eventually I had my tongue out like a freak. He just kept finding ways to get deeper...

At some point picked me up like I weighed nothing.

And that's the thing about the creepy ones! You don't expect the strength. One second I was on the desk, the next my back was against the wall, one leg hooked over his arm, and he was looking directly into my eyes while he fucked me.

No looking away this time… those weird eyes watching every expression I made, every crack in my composure.

"There it is," he whispered when I finally moaned out loud. "There's my... good girl."

I hate that I clenched around him when he said it.

He definitely noticed.

By the end I was on my knees.

Don't ask me how I got there. I don't remember agreeing to it. I just remember looking up at him, my legs too shaky to stand, and him stroking himself with that theatrical intensity, those pale eyes locked on my face.

"You've been... such a gracious guest."

He came across my face like he was blessing me. Ropes of it across my cheeks, my lips, dripping down my chin. I should have been disgusted.

Eventually I licked my lips.

He smiled. This slow, knowing smile.

"I do hope you'll... visit again."

I cleaned up in his creepy bathroom, fixed my hair and walked out without saying goodbye.

Made it halfway down the mountain before I turned around.

"The service was terrible," I said, standing in his doorway again.

He just smiled and rang the little bell himself.

I stayed three more nights.

...

I'm not writing about those.

— Loveless