For Every Market, a Submarket Grows

Shilo stood at the front door to her home, hesitating. The house was empty, and the idea made her stomach churn. The idea of walking into those dark, haunted halls, completely alone for the first time in her life…

A hand on her shoulder reminded Shilo that she *wasn’t* alone. Graverobber was there, at her side. “Something wrong, kid?” he asked.

Shilo shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

“Liar.” Graverobber released her and moved forward. He tried the door handle. It was locked. “You got a key?” he asked, turning back to her.

“No,” Shilo said, and felt immediately ashamed for it. What kind of person didn’t have a key to their own house?

“Not a problem.” Graverobber turned back to the door and knelt down. Pulling a bobby pin and a screwdriver out of his coat, he proceeded to pick the lock. It took him less than ten seconds. The door swung open and Graverobber waved his hand. “Viola,” he said.

Shilo stepped in, shaking slightly and trying to ignore it. Her house had always been quiet, but now it was more than that. She heard the door shut behind her, and silence became deafening. It was like when the ash rain fell from the sky, coating everything in a fine grey powder. It muted all sounds from the outside, as if the house were adrift, lost and alone. It was like the outside didn’t exist anymore. Shilo wasn’t sure she could stand it.

“Nice place,” Graverobber remarked, startling her out of her brooding. “I guess Repo men earn plenty of dough; hazard pay and all that.”

“I guess,” Shilo mumbled. She’d never actually thought about finances before. She’d never had to. Shilo suddenly realized how completely and utterly sheltered she’d been all those years. Her little glimpses of the outside world had done nothing to prepare her for real life. What was she going to do? Get a job? How? She had no skills. No education beyond basic math, science, reading, and history. Her father had been her teacher most of her life, but by fourteen, the lessons started to come less and less frequently, until eventually, she wasn’t learning anything at all. It occurred to her now that her father had stopped teaching her to keep her ignorant of the outside world; to keep her dependant on him.

Without a word to Graverobber, Shilo took off running up the stairs. All she wanted in that moment was to throw herself into her bed, huddle under the covers, and sleep until the world went away. She vaguely heard Graverobber calling after her, but she ignored it. Shilo burst into her room, the door slamming into the wall. She walked to the bed… but couldn’t bring herself to get in. Shilo spent seventeen years in that bed, and quite suddenly, she didn’t want it anymore. She went into the bathroom instead, and turned on the light. She went to sink and stared in the mirror.

Dear God, she was still wearing that whorish red lipstick Luigi Largo had slathered on her lips. The color was so bright that it was vulgar, and it had smeared over lips, making her look sloppy and drunk, like that woman Sherry.

It was then that full enormity of what had almost happened hit her. A wave of nausea swept over Shilo. She stumbled to the toilet, retching, crying, her body shaking. She wiped her mouth with an unsteady hand and flushed the toilet. She crawled back to the sink, pulling herself up by the ledge. The first thing she saw in the mirror was that slash of red, mocking her. She turned on the tap and wet her hands. She scrubbed at her lips, trying to rid herself of it, not just the lipstick, but the whole event.

The water turned scalding hot, but Shilo didn’t notice. She washed her mouth, ridding herself of the taste of bile. The lipstick was gone, but the feeling of being stained remained. Shilo broke down in fresh sobs, sinking to the cold floor. She held onto the sink as if she were drowning, and the cold porcelain was a life preserver.

The world swan before her eyes, and this time, Shilo welcomed it. She wanted nothing more than to sink into grey nothingness, into that place where nothing mattered. She felt herself being wrapped in something warm, then being lifted by strong arms. Then, her head resting against something warm and solid, her eyes slid closed, and she knew no more.

*************

Pavi lay on his bed in his room at GeneCo tower. There was a Gentern lying next to him, completely nude, curled up at his side like a cat. She was one of his favorites. Her name was Gwen. She was curvy and lovely, with long, shining dark hair. Just like his mother. So like his mother.

Pavi wrapped an arm around Gwen, pulling her close. She smiled in her sleep and settled closer to him. The heat of her golden skin was comforting. There was much on Pavi’s mind, much that he’d never thought before. Pavi had never found himself in a position where he felt his morals were being compromised. Hell, Pavi didn’t even know he *had* morals. But there he was, lying in bed with a beautiful naked woman, and all he could think about was the startling change that had over-taken his sister.

Amber had always been a vapid little whore, who was loving in her own way, who could be a good person when the need arose, who was fun to have around and always made those around her look good. But this new Amber… this he’d never seen before. Amber had always had a jealous streak in her. Pavi remembered her constantly needing new dolls as a girl. In fact, every time Pavi brought a new girl home, Amber wanted a doll that looked just like the new girl. Pavi had always thought it was simply a side-effect of never having a real mother. Their own mother had died shortly after Amber’s birth, and Marni hadn’t been around long enough to be of any real help.

Pavi wondered if Amber knew how their mother died. He doubted it. He only knew because he saw it. The last time he’d mentioned it to Luigi, his brother had said that their mother died of the flu.

How silly. When a woman shows up in the coroner’s office with six-inch slits down her wrists, who in their right mind said, “Oh, it’s the flu,”? But again, Pavi only knew because he saw it. He assumed his father was too proud to tell Amber and Luigi what had really happened. What man admits that his wife was so unhappy that she took her own life?

“You have a message from Amber Sweet,” came a mechanical voice from the bedside table. Pavi reached over Gwen, picking up his cell-watch. Pressing the button, a projection of Amber popped up, and he heard her say, “Come down to my office NOW, Pavi. We need to talk.”

Pavi sighed. He slipped the cell on his wrist, then turned and extracted his arm from under Gwen. She rolled over and continued to sleep.

As he dressed Pavi felt a sense of dread. Considering her earlier actions, what new horrors would this meeting bring?

*************

Shilo stirred. She lay in her own bed, covered in Graverobber’s coat. She had a hold of Graverobber’s arm, was practically wrapped around it, holding on like it was a teddy bear. His hand was resting on her thigh, between her legs. Well, *that* was new. He was sound asleep beside her, his other hand resting lightly on his chest. He looked much younger when he was asleep.

The feeling of Graverobber’s hand on her leg was warming Shilo in some…*interesting* places. It was making her nervous, so she tried to shift away. His hand clenched and held her in place.

Crap.

Shilo took a deep breath to steady her jumping nerves. Now what? He obviously wasn’t going to let her go. She thought she should just go back to sleep, but she’d never felt less like sleeping in her life. Shilo tried to figure out what she wanted to do.

Well, that was easy. She wanted to kiss him.

Never mind that she didn’t know how. And that he was asleep and wouldn’t kiss her back. And that he was at least ten years old than her. And that she was still technically a minor, at least for the next eight months.

Shilo experimentally slid a hand up Graverobber’s arm and onto his chest. He didn’t even stir. She let her hand wander to his collar bone, where his shirt was open. She ran her fingers over his skin. It was warmer than she expected. She’d always thought he’d feel like a corpse, but he was very much alive. Shilo slid her hand up his neck, tracing his jaw line.

Graverobber’s eyes snapped open, and he caught her by the wrist. Shilo gasped and tried to jerk away, but his grip was too strong. He turned and looked at her. “Getting curious, kid?”

Shilo wasn’t sure how to answer, especially after what he’d said earlier about curiosity. So, she decided to annoy him, and hope he’d forget all about it. “What’s your name?” she asked. “It’s not ‘Jack’, is it?”

His reaction wasn’t what she’d expected. Graverobber rolled over, pinning her beneath him. “What the hell?!?!” she exclaimed, struggling. He held her down easily, and fir a moment, Shilo flashed back to the other bed, and what had almost happened there. But she didn’t get scared. Because she trusted Graverobber. Despite everything, she trusted him. But still, she struggled. She couldn’t help it. Being trapped under him like that was making her think some incredibly unladylike thoughts, and it was making her uncomfortable.

Graverobber lowered his head, his lips brushing her ear, and said in a husky voice, “I’m willing to tell you my name… but only if I know I’ll hear you say it… over and over again.”

“Wha - ?” Shilo began breathlessly. She was completely confused, though some baser, more instinctive part of her knew exactly what was happening.

Graverobber raised his head again. He was smiling slightly, and it was an incredibly dark, incredibly *male* smile. God how that smile affected her. Shilo wasn’t sure she could survive. Graverobber’s hand was behind her neck now, and he was leaning over her, and his lips were hovering above hers. She trembled as she felt his breath on her lips, felt his lips move as he said quietly, “My name… is Jonas.”

Shilo opened her mouth to respond, but instead felt his close over it. It took her several breathless moments to realize she was *kissing* the Graverobber… Jonas. Jonas, God, what a normal name. His tongue slid over hers and she was wrenched from her thoughts. Feeling immediately inadequate for simply laying there, Shilo wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. She decided to try something she’d seen on TV many times before. She took his bottom lip between hers and sucked on it.

Graverobber moaned slightly. Shilo was irrationally proud of herself for a moment.

And then, her mind stopped working. Because Graverobber’s hand had slid up her thigh, and under her skirt. She felt his hands undoing his pants, and part of her panicked, like a bird caught in an hourglass. But her own hands, without her realizing, slipped under her skirt and pulled her own underwear down. She saw vague surprise in Graverobber’s eyes, which were almost black with what she assumed was lust.

She could feel him now, his arousal, hot and hard against her thigh. And in that moment, she wanted nothing more than for him to be inside her, for him to take her and make her something else, something new.

Graverobber wrapped his arms around her again, and met her eyes. He didn’t speak but he seemed to be asking something. Asking for permission. Ina sudden flash of daring, Shilo smiled and said, “What are you waiting for, Jonas?”

Biggest.

Mistake.

Ever.

Because when his hips rolled, and he thrust inside her, she realized she was *not* ready for it, and that all her knowledge of sex gleaned from TV and romance novels has left out one very important thing:

IT.

FUCKING.

HURT.

She didn’t know anything about…*size*, but she felt impaled. Tears sprang to her eyes and she bit her lip against the pain. She realized that Graverobber had stopped moving and was watching her, looking concerned. And for some reason, Graverobber looking concerned was just… hilarious.

Shilo laughed.

And suddenly, he just looked annoyed. “What are you laughing at?”

Shilo shook her head. “I have never seen you look concerned for the well-being of another person. It was funny.”

Graverobber thrust again, effectively silencing Shilo. He smiled in a very wolfish way. Gripping her by the hair, he kissed her again, and then all thoughts were gone. His hips were moving at a fairly quick rhythm, and it was all Shilo could do to just keep up. It didn’t help that he seemed to be hitting this odd spot inside her, that every time it was struck caused white heat to build in her. Shilo dug her nails into his back, holding on for dear life, not knowing what was going to happen, but completely willing to see it through. She felt her hips moving in unison with his, instinctively working with more experience than she actually had.

Shilo began to shake as that heat filling her escalated. Graverobber’s breath was coming quicker now, and he lost some of his clever rhythm. Her legs wrapped themselves around his hips, meeting his thrusts, sending him deeper inside her, and sending her closer to a white hot edge.

Graverobber bit into her shoulder, and the pain sent waves f pleasure through her, sent her spiraling over that edge. Her body convulsed around him, and she cried out the only thing she could think of. “Jonas!”

Jonas cried out above her, his back arching, as he spilled inside her, scalding hot. Shilo wondered distantly if that was an orgasm, and if so, when exactly she could do it again. Graverobber collapsed onto her, his face buried in her neck.

Shilo felt all the energy drain from her body. Her slid closed and a moment later she fell asleep, Graverobber still inside her.

*************


Hey guys, sorry it took me so long to update. Also, sorry if this scene seems awkward. I swear it was intentional. Most people don't have sex with so little previous knowledge of it, and I wanted it to be realistic, so there it is.