Tempting BAD: VIP Spin Off (12 page)

I knocked on her mahogany wood office door. “Come in,” she announced, and I did.

I could tell that she was pleased with my appearance, her breath caught as she took in my slender, yet curvy form. I was nervous and tried like hell not to show it. This was my only chance, which I was sure of. There would be no second chances with her; that much I knew to be true.

I wore a black petticoat with fuck me heels and the click of my heels mimicked the beat of my heart as I walked toward her desk.

She cocked her head to the side. “Hello.”

I smiled and took a seat in front of her desk.

“Can I help you?” she questioned, not taking her eyes away from my face.

She was breathtakingly beautiful. I was like a moth to flame, getting pulled in deeper to the slow burn of my rebirth.

“Not as much as I can help you,” I responded.

She grinned. “And how, pray tell, can you help me?”

Even her voice had a magnetic pull. I didn’t stand a chance from the moment I held the black business card in my hands. It was meant to be.

I unbuttoned my coat from top to bottom to expose my creamy, naked white skin. Her eyes followed my fingers and once they were set on my mound, I spread my legs.

I licked my lips and said, “I want to be a VIP.”

She chuckled, taking in my forwardness, I knew how she operated; VIPs didn’t come to her. She went to them.

She placed her hands on the desk in a prayer motion. “I pick you, darling, not the other way around,” she informed, but I already knew that.

“I know,” I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth and silently took a deep breath. The next words that would come out of my mouth would be set in stone once they were heard. There was no going back after I said it. “Fuck me. If you don’t like it, I’ll leave, but I guarantee you will.”

She smiled bright and big and her eyes lit up. “Stand up.”

I did.

She did a twirling motion with her finger, wanting me to turn around, and I did.

“Stop,” she ordered when my back was facing her. “Bend over,” she declared.

I swallowed the saliva that had pooled in my mouth and prayed she couldn’t smell my nervousness. She was testing me and I didn’t want to fail. I had never been exposed like this for anyone, not even Landon, but I leaned forward to let her inspect my pussy.

“Turn around,” she beckoned in a sultry tone.

I turned and raised an eyebrow, waiting for approval, praying that she would give it to me.

“What makes you think that I would take someone throwing themselves at me? That’s not an attractive quality, darling. VIPs aren’t made… they’re born. You just seem like a slutty girl wanting to make some money; I can give you the card of a very exclusive strip club. They will love you there. This is The Cathouse, not the titty bar. ”

“I want to work for you, no one else,” I argued. “I’m a VIP.” It was time to prove it to her and to myself. I reached into my jacket and pulled out the dildo, and I could immediately tell she was proud and intrigued.

I sat back down in the chair and placed both my heels on the sides, spreading my legs wide open. I seductively peeked my eyes up at her, asking for silent permission, and her eyes lit brighter. I knew who was in charge and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

She nodded, allowing me to proceed.

I took the impressive size toy into my mouth and deep throated it all the way in, not gagging.

Thank you, Landon.

I sucked the fake cock like it was an actual man in front of me. My hand and head did all the motions of actual oral sex. After I got it nice and wet, I slowly and seductively slid it down my body.

I stroked my clit until I was turned on and then slid it in. My other hand kneaded and caressed my breast and I fucked myself with the toy, never taking my eyes off her. The months that I prepared for this exact moment couldn’t have gone any better.

She couldn’t take it anymore and moved out of her chair to bend in front of me. “You want to be a VIP?” she asked and I eagerly nodded.

“First lesson you need to learn is I make the rules, not you.” She placed the palm of her hand on my clit and pressed forward.

“I tell you when to come,” she whispered in my ear as she worked my nub into a frenzy and assisted with her other hand, working the dildo in and out of me. It didn’t take long till I was withering and moaning to come. Her tongue found its way into my mouth, and she sucked on my bottom lip as I came unglued on the seat.

It was my first time I had kissed a woman.

It was the first time I pleasured myself in front of someone.

It was the first time I let someone in.

Into my heart and into my life.

I knew right then and there that I would never be the same. I knew I would be one of her favorites.

And all it took me was to find another one of my father’s indiscretions…

To feel like I was finally
home
.

“Honey, I need you to go into your bedroom. You need to go into your bedroom and lock the door, okay? You don’t come out until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

“Why, Momma? I want to finish watching the movie and Dad just got home.”

We heard his car pull into the garage and her face immediately panicked.

“You just need to listen to me, it’s late. You need to go,” she ordered, patting my butt.

I looked over at the time and it read 1:00 AM. The garage door slammed open, knocking some pictures off the wall and making my mom and I jump.

“Where the fuck… are… my kids?” Dad slurred, walking funny into the living room.

“Hey, honey, I was just about to get Devon into bed.” She grabbed my hand and placed me behind her. She was doing that a lot more often. I peeked over on the side but still kept my body safely placed behind her legs.

“What the fuck is he doing up this late?”

“He wanted to finish watching the movie.”

“You’re a horrible fucking mother letting him stay up this late. I can’t trust you with anything, you stupid bitch!” he yelled, stumbling and placing his gun on the table.

I looked right at it with wide eyes. He wasn’t supposed to do that; Mom said he needed to keep his gun in a higher place, away from my sisters so we couldn’t reach it. But I promised her that I would never touch it.

“You like that, son?” he asked, catching me staring at it. “Maybe you will turn out to be something. Come here.”

I looked up at Mom and her face was sad and afraid. She always had the same face when Dad was around; she wasn’t the same mom with him in the house.

“I. Said. Come. Here.”

“Honey, he needs to go to sleep. Let me make you some coffee,” she coaxed, gripping on to my shoulders.

“Did I say I needed coffee? No, I didn’t! Now if he doesn’t come to me, I’m going to go get him, and trust me, you don’t want that to happen.”

I didn’t like the sound of his voice, but I moved away from her before she could reply and stepped closer to him.

“That gun, son,” he said, moving his head toward it, “carries so much power. You have no idea how much control and power you have with that simple weapon. I want you to pick it up and point it at your mother. Do you understand?”

“Rick…” she murmured.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! I’m sick of hearing your goddamn voice. I am having a man-to-man chat with my son and if you know what’s good for you, you will shut the fuck up.”

I shook my head no, but he cocked his head to the side with a vindictive look on his face. “Are you saying no to me?”

“Dad, I don’t want to,” I wallowed, trying to hold back the tears.

“Grab the fucking gun, Devon, NOW!” he yelled.

He was going to wake my sisters up, so I did as I was told and grabbed the gun by the handle. It was heavy and felt cold. I wanted to place it back down on the table, but he must have sensed my hesitation because he moved closer to me and wrapped my hand around the gun, the way it’s supposed to be held he said. I hated the feeling and wanted to scream and run, but I knew if I did, it would be worse for my mom. I didn’t want him to hurt her anymore; I was tired of seeing him hurt her. She never did anything to deserve it.

I learned that if I cried when I saw him hurt her, it only turned out to be worse for her. He had no mercy and he would laugh and only hit her harder. He said she deserved it and he would call her all sorts of names. Some I understood and others I didn’t. I could tell by the tone of his voice that they weren’t nice and that she hated it, but she never said anything. She always took it and I never understood why.

“Now...” he yelled, breaking me from my thoughts and kneeling down to my level, grabbing my shoulders. “Turn around and point it at your mom.”

I shook my head again. “Please, Daddy, I don’t want to… please,” I wept. I couldn’t control my tears any longer and they flowed loosely down my face. I could taste them in my mouth and it was hard for me to see.

“Son, men don’t cry. You’re a man and men are strong; they’re powerful and they can do whatever the fuck they please. You will grow up to be just like me. Just like your father… that I can promise you.”

I didn’t want to grow up and be like him. I didn’t want to be anything like the man kneeling before me. He was malicious and evil. I hated him and in that moment, at nine years old, I learned the feeling of the word and never once looked at him again with love or adoration.

He was nothing to me, only the man that hurt my mom, and made her cry.

“Turn around and point the gun at your mother.”

I closed my eyes, praying that it would all go away. I silently prayed to God that he wouldn’t make me do this. That he would stop time or that this was just a bad dream. That it wasn’t real. But when I turned to face my mother and he ordered me to open my eyes and point the gun at her heart, I learned that there was no God, or that he didn’t listen or care about me and my family.

He didn’t exist in our home… there was only hell because if He had existed, I would have never had to pull the trigger.

“When you aim a gun at someone,” he whispered in my ear from behind me, loud enough for her to hear, “you aim to kill. You aim at the heart or you aim at the head, nowhere else,” he paused to let his words sink in, and my mom’s face would forever haunt my dreams. She didn’t look sad or terrified… nothing of what I imagined. She looked relieved; like I was about to take her away from somewhere she didn’t want to be. As if I were setting her free. Letting her go.

I didn’t want her to leave… what would happen to us if she were gone?

“No, Dad!” I screamed not caring about the repercussions. “Please don’t make me do this, please, Dad, please,” I mercifully begged.

“DO. IT!” he shouted louder.

My crying and his screams must have been loud because Lauren came out in her Disney pajamas, wiping away sleep from her eyes and my mother’s face froze. I heard Alexis, my baby sister, who had just turned one, screaming so loud from her crib and it was a piercing sound that made me feel like my ears were bleeding.

“Please, Rick, please don’t do this… have mercy… God… please don’t do this…” she pleaded, coming out of the daze she was in seconds before.

He roughly grabbed my hand and pointed it for me. “Pull the fucking trigger,” he threatened.

“Daddy!” Lauren screamed, running over to my mom and holding onto her legs.

“Rick! Stop this… please, Jesus Christ, you’re scaring the kids!”

“I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to,” I repeated over and over again.

“Pull the fucking trigger, Devon. I swear if you don’t do it I’ll hurt your sister; Lauren will pay for your mistakes. Now be a man and pull the trigger.”

It was my baby sister or my mom…