The Madam (25 page)

“I can read the file, but how about you tell
me what you know. Maybe there’s something in your head that’s not
in here,” he pressed. It only irritated me to have to think about
it all over again.

I sat in a chair across from his desk and
crossed my legs. I’m sure my attitude was blatant, but I didn’t
give a shit. He worked for me, not the other way around.

“I had a baby. She was adopted.”

He stared at me, waiting for more. But he
wasn’t going to get more.

“The only thing you need to worry about,
Gregory,” I said his name with such distain it made him squirm in
his chair, “is finding her. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Madam. But I hope you know it will take
some time.”

I stood up and pressed my hands to his desk,
leaning over until we were face to face. “My mother had this
information for a reason, and kept it from me for a reason. I’m
assuming she had gotten it from somewhere. And since you are the
one that worked for her, one could only assume where she got it
from.”

I straightened back up and fixed my blouse.
“VIP is mine now. I had no problems cleaning house after I took
over. Would you like me to add you to the donation pile as
well?”

“N…no, Madam.” He radiated with nervousness,
and if I had a cock in my pants, it would have been standing at
attention. Not because of the sweaty man in front of me, but
because of my power.

“I was not involved in her finding any
information, I swear it,” he pleaded.

“Too bad. If you were, you would at least
have a place to start looking. I suggest you halt any other
projects you may be working on, now or in the future, until I have
what I need.” I turned to leave but he stood up.

He came around his desk and stopped me from
leaving. For the first time since walking in, he seemed like a man.
He wasn’t shaking like he had been, nor was he acting nervous. It
made me notice his muscular arms and reminded me of how attractive
I used to think he was.

“I’m talking years here, Madam.”

I grabbed his tie and pretended to straighten
it. Instead of fixing it, I tightened it as hard as I could around
his neck and used it to pull his face to mine.

“If you’d get out of my way and start
working, I’m sure it’d take less time.”

I licked his lips and then released him. He
didn’t move from where he stood.

I grabbed him by the balls, the only way to
let a man know you mean business, and moved my lips to his ears.
“Do this…and I’ll let you do me. I know you’ve always wanted to,
Gregory. I noticed how you used to look at me. And I see the way
you look at me now.” I backed away and released him. “Don’t do it,
and I’ll make sure you never stick your dick in anything warm
again.”

Without a glance back, I walked out of his
office and closed the door behind me. It had been a while since I
felt that kind of power over someone. Sure, I had VIP and held all
of the power over that, but to watch the pupils of a man change so
drastically by one touch, or one word; it had been a while.

I could still feel his lips on my tongue, and
I knew what I had to do.

I made my way to the bathroom and stood in
front of the mirror. My girls were always busy with handsome, rich
men, while I stood back and worked the business. I was over that.
It was time for me to mix a little pleasure with my business. And I
knew just where to go.

One of my girls was set up with a new client.
I met him once when he came in to sign his paperwork. He was
devilishly handsome for someone around my age. Maybe it was the
slight salting of his hair on the sides that did it for me.
Whatever it was, it was going to be his pleasure to stick his cock
in me for the night.

I knew where they were meeting, where they
were going to be, and I was going to make an appearance.

I went straight to the hotel room that had
been booked and opened the door. These minimum wage hotel clerks
would do anything for a tip; including giving a stranger a room
key.

Cynthia was already on the bed, spread eagle,
and her company was beginning to undress. They never even heard me
come in. I walked up behind him and began to unzip his pants.

“Here, let me help you with that,
darling.”

He spun around, excited to see me. Cynthia on
the other hand, looked a bit shocked but stayed where she was. She
knew better than to move or cover up.

After helping the client out of his pants, I
sank into the bed next to my VIP, smelling her body on my way to
her face.

“As much fun as I could have with you right
now, I think I’ll have you go. I can handle Mr. Morisette from
here.” She looked shocked but didn’t say anything as she removed
herself from the bed and dressed.

I put my heels on the edge of the bed and
opened my legs wide, showcasing the fact I was not wearing panties.
“What do you think, hmmm? Think you can handle me?”

“Only one way to find out.” He began to move
over me, placing his body between my legs to move up.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Gabriel,” I said as I placed
my heel right in his chest. “Why don’t we start here?” I insisted,
pointing to my pussy. “And by that, I mean with your mouth.” He
grinned and dove right in.

Gabriel Morisette was a power player and he
fucked the exact way that he did business; hard, rough, and dirty.
The best kind of way. Leaving that room that afternoon made me feel
like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. My mother was wrong
about a lot of things; who I was, who I’m supposed to be, and who I
will become…

Moments of weakness build character and
reinforce stability. You take the good from the bad and vice versa.
We pick and choose our demons, just like we do our battles; it’s
the beauty about being human.

Everything happens for a reason…just remember
that.

A year went by and it was December 16, 1994,
I got the phone call that I had anxiously been waiting for.

“Madam,” I answered.

“It’s Gregory,” he immediately replied.

I felt my heart speed up and all the blood
from my face drained. “Yes…” was all I could say. It felt like an
eternity for him to reply but I knew it was only seconds.

“She’s gone,” he stated those two words that
could change my entire life.

“What do you mean?”

“She ran away from home in 1990 when she was
thirteen, and no one can find her. She was adopted into a nice home
with very comfortable surroundings. Nothing looked suspicious. Her
parents tried all avenues to find her and ended up with nothing. No
one has heard from her. I have used every resource I have to find
her, and still nothing,” he hesitated. “I’m sorry, Madam. She’s
gone.”

“Thank you.” I said and hung up.

There are some things in life that are better
left unsaid, and at times we want answers to questions we don’t
even know. I had never run across a problem where throwing money at
it didn’t fix it. The fact that I had no control over finding
something that belonged to me fucked me up in more ways than one.
There was no bittersweet moment, no resolution, and no clear
conscience on my part. I take care of what’s mine and I wasn’t even
given the opportunity to make things right.

I finally felt what I was trying to hide all
those years.

I hated my mother.

And I think she always wanted me to.

Y2K…sound familiar?

January 1st, 2000, the arrival of the new
millennium. December 31, 1999 held the fear that all computers were
going to malfunction. People from all over the world feared that
our luxuries would be destroyed and we would be reverting back to
living with no electricity, heat, or running water. It was called
the great Y2K scare. It was the fear that the apocalypse was among
us and the end of the world was near.

I threw a costume, slash orgy, slash drug
party.

I’ll give you a quick recap of the last five
years. I did a lot of drugs; I fucked a lot of men, and women. I
lived, I laughed, and I loved…myself, VIP, and my girls. I call
that era my careless time. I was really messed up after finding out
about Elizabeth, Mika, and even Julian. I lost myself for a while;
my dark period. The cliff notes version is that I did what the hell
I wanted to do. I didn’t once think about any of the consequences
of the things that I did.

The Madam was powerful, envied, feared, and
loved. I had anything at my disposal at any given time. No one said
no to me, and if they did, they didn’t live to do to it again. I
could destroy by just looking at you. You may think that I grew
cold or cruel, and you are entitled to your opinion, but the truth
is people who make it to the top have to crush those below
them.

I didn’t make the rules for the first time in
my life; I just followed them.

I invited anyone who was worth a damn for my
New Year’s Eve party. I figured if the world came to an end, at
least I was in good company. I know what you’re asking yourself as
you read this…

Where’s Mika?

Am I right?

Mika and I remained “close” throughout those
five years. To put it as blunt as possible, we still fucked. How
much of a hypocrite am I, you ask? I was the other woman and trust
me; it wasn’t by choice. As much as I wanted to walk away from him,
I couldn’t, and he wouldn’t allow it. He was absolutely right about
one thing, he always gave me what I needed, and it really was the
beauty of us.

I never met his wife or his child and we
never talked about it. Mika always lived multiple lives; it’s who
he was. He never made excuses or apologizes for the shit he did
either. That’s not to say I was the only other woman, I’m sure he
had one everywhere he went, but I was his number one girl; at least
that’s what he loved to tell me. It also gave me the liberty to do
whatever or whomever I wanted to. I was still The Madam, and I
never let Mika forget that. In its own completely twisted way, our
“relationship” worked for me, and I was aware that it was the only
way that I was able to be with someone and not truly be with them;
if that makes any sense at all.

Anyway, I had a special plan for New Year’s
Eve. One thing that I learned about high society people is how much
they love their recreational drug use, the wealthy love to get
fucked up. Think about, if you had all the money in the world and
never once had to fear that you couldn’t buy your way out of
something, then there were no consequences. People need
consequences for change. Thus, taking “recreational” drugs is like
going on vacation. You do it because you can. Now their sex was a
different story; they loved to do those things behind closed doors.
It’s so much easier to be who you are without anyone knowing it’s
you.

When the clock struck midnight, I had someone
turn off all the lights, literally. One would think that my guests
would experience paranoia and panic, quite the contrary...the music
changed and so did the mood. There were candles spread out
throughout the entire room and it gave it a soft glow. It had a
translucent appearance, a certain je ne sais quoi quality about it.
And then…the VIPs walked in. All dressed in nothing but heels. They
took center stage in the middle of the room and swayed their hips
to the music. I didn’t have to see the guest’s faces to know that
they were aroused, which is exactly what I wanted.

They danced provocatively, provoking and
seducing everyone in the room. Their movements were carnal and
sinful. I watched as the women captivated the attention of every
last person in the room and I was proud. My girls were made for
sex; you could see it, you could taste it, and you could fucking
feel it. No one took their eyes off of them. They hypnotized the
room through their movements. The music changed to Beethoven’s
Moonlight Sonata and the girls glided their way toward their
prey.

My guests didn’t stand a chance.

Even I was being pulled toward the vitality
of my girls. However, I was always a voyeur, as were some other
guests. I surveyed the room, breathing in the smell of lust,
abandonment, and pussy.

Some people need love…

I need sex, money, power, and control.

I stood in the corner of the room with my
back against the wall and observed all the primal hunger around me.
My hands eased their way up my thighs and I lavished in the
velvetiness of my skin. My nails lightly skimmed the first layer of
pores that left my hair standing up at attention. I caressed my
thighs in an up and down motion as I looked everywhere around the
room. The eroticism was a work of art that I created. I was living
a piece of history and people would talk about this for years to
come. The thrill of it all was enough to get me wet.

As I observed bodies being devoured and
adored by one, two, three or more people. There was no
judgment…this was not depravity…this was VIP.

I didn’t have to look to know that he was
there.

I didn’t have to find him to know that he was
watching me.

As Beethoven’s melody continued to assault
our senses, it illuminated the raw acts before us. The new
millennium was welcomed with unadulterated passion.

My right hand found its way toward the lining
of my panties and I touched the layer of silk right above the labia
of my lips. The palm of my hand swayed back and forth on my pussy
as I felt the moisture seeping through. My other hand slowly moved
its way up my body and I began rubbing at the back of my neck while
my fingers found the inside of my panties. I didn’t touch where I
wanted myself the most; instead, I teased my labia and spread
around the wetness from my opening.

My hand made its way down to my breast and I
massaged myself through my dress. I bit my bottom lip as I watched
a client suck on a VIPs clit. Her head fell back, as did mine. I
pushed two fingers inside of my heat and moaned. There I was,
shamelessly fucking myself while everyone else was getting fucked.
My eyes closed on their own as I pushed harder on my g-spot and
moments later, I felt him.