2

Seated near the back, I glance around and noticed how empty the cinema is around this time. The lights begin to dim, and darkness covers me. The adverts begin to play. However, my attention is elsewhere. I feel a warm tug. I glance down to see something groping me within my Jeans. Upon noticing this, I follow the anonymity to my right. Seated next to me was Emily. Yes, that's it. I remember now, her name is Emily.

"Oops, sorry babe. Meant to grab the popcorn." She says, as she continues to massage my cock. I let out a quiet groan as she attacks my weak spot without mercy. She leans in and whispers in my ears. "If you can last longer than five minutes, When we get home. I'll let you fuck me in that maid costume."

"Emi, I didn't even buy any popcorn...-"

"Shhh, that's not important." she interrupts me with her devilishly sweet grin before leaning down and giving my hard cock a lick, a sweet kiss on the tip and then ahh. There it is, that warmth, that wetness and- 

"Sweet baby Jeeeeees-" that suction. That op suction interrupting both thought and speech ugh. A few minutes of her relentless assault, her head bopping up and down. I seemingly run out of HP, As I climaxed, my eyes closed, my head whipped back and I grip my seat hard. "Ah... Emi."

I open my eyes in confusion. A sense of loss fills me. I'm no longer at the cinema. Emi isn't beside me. Surrounded by snoring young boys I glance around. refamiliarizing myself again with my surroundings. The stone floor, the cold stone walls. The exhausted candles upon the bed stand. What bat-shit-crazy sorcery is this? A single tear falls down my cheeks. 

Sneaking out of the room, I head outside and begin my daily cleaning duties diligently. Since sweeping the same floor every damn day is boring. I begin to recall my earliest memory. I dare not tell anyone this story of mine. Considering I still can't fully come to terms to what's occurred. I can't remember my latest memory. As to how I died or passed on? From Earth that is. I was barely in my college years, studying some course in digital art. I'm so glad I did that by the way. Thank god digital art will help me in this shitty world with no computers...

"Sigh... what a cruel twist of fate." I should've focused more on agriculture or perhaps inventions. Damn, I can imagine my history teacher right now with that shitty smirk of hers. Right, going back on track. The first memory I had upon waking in this world was waking up as a younger version of myself. I was young, small and yet to hit puberty. The cold dirty floors of Einhoren's alleyways was my reality. Cold, hungry and weak I endeavoured to survive. 

I roamed the streets as a pickpocket. I used my skills from my previous life to successfully pick ripe pockets. Mind you, I only targeted the rich looking ones. Those pomp-ass 16th century looking nobles. Thank god I picked up a hobby of learning card/magic tricks which taught me "sleight-of-hand." And the graceful art of distractions.

I was successful for quite some time I might add. I envisioned myself like Robin. Until that day occurred. To this day I still don't know how it happened but the pocket I picked was trapped. As my hand delved in, I remember the noble's coat coming to life, instantly moving and wrapping me up like a sausage roll. My movement restricted I figured my life forfeit to backbreaking slavery.

That's when I saw her. A graceful young lady, eyes wide with curiosity. Her smooth blonde hair and sharp blue eyes reminded me of Emi. The pocket I attempted to pick belonged to her father it seemed. 

"Hi. Here, you can have this if you'd like?" She reached out, apple in hand. The coat released me as she approached. She took my hand and forced the apple upon me before skipping back to her father. I couldn't hear their whispers but the older gentleman quickly pulled out a notepad and wrote something before handing it to one of his knights. Said knight saluted him, before grabbing me and placing me here in this orphanage. Would've been nice to get a name or something, but that knight completely ignored all my questions.