Mitsuru had just gotten off shift and had stumbled onto the street, an old trenchcoat tightly wrapped around his shivering body. It was cold and lingerie wasn't exactly known for its heat insulation. Mitsuru wasn't afraid to wander the city alone. There were men leaning against the walls, their eyes wandering to his lithe, petite body. It was obvious what his job was. The feminine male could feel their eyes on him and his steps quickened, his long lashes fluttering as he made his way down the street. Mitsuru kept his head down occasionally looking around. He could hear a few men follow him and bit down on his plush lower lip. In his rush, he stumbled slightly, eliciting laughter from the men behind him. Hmm... two? Three people? Mitsuru rushed around a few corners only to end up in a remote place, even better, a dead end. Almost immediately strong hands grabbed him and threw him against the wall, ripping his coat from his trembling body. Mitsuru felt the air being knocked out of his lungs, icy wind hitting his bare, white skin. He gasped, leaning against the wall as he eyed his attackers nervously. He wasn't wearing much, but what he was wearing was designed to make people excited. "Ah!", he cried out when one man picked him up and spread his legs. They didn't bother restraining him. In comparison to their large, stocky builds Mitsuru was as brittle as a twig. The man was unpacking himself, when suddenly the scene changed very abruptly.