Nine Page 3

  “You really worry me.”

  “It’s just a little pot. We’ve gone over this. It relaxes me. Get off my back,” I say.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  I sigh. “I don’t get you. When did you start acting all parental?”

  “Um. The moment you forgot to turn the stove off one day and burnt the hell out of the pan, and then you left the bath water running the next day, flooding the floor, and then you locked the keys in the car the day after. Your head’s been somewhere else. Something is up. What is it?”

  I shrug. “I’m fine. Everything is fine. Now just get back to what I pay you to do, please.”

  Her eyes widen. “You know what I mean.” I tilt my head to the side. She puckers up her lips and shakes her head.

  “I need you, Jenny. Let’s not fuck up everything now. Okay? Please?”

  She grits her teeth and nods with hesitation in her eyes. Jenny looks down for a second and then turns off on one heel, walking away from me. I follow her out and slip into my black high heels. I smooth out my little black dress and watch as Jenny sits down at the computer and starts punching in information harder than she needs to. I grab my purse and yell over my shoulder as I walk toward the front door.

  “Later, Jenny.”

  She doesn’t respond. I know she’s irritated with me. I stop and spin around. Jenny looks up.

  “Do you know why I keep doing this? Why I won’t stop?”

  She doesn’t say anything. She just stares at me.

  “Because it’s the only thing I’m good at.”

  Her face drops and so does my stomach. The room is quiet, and I feel exposed. This is the first time I’ve said that in all of these years, but it’s the truth. I quickly turn to leave. I need air, and I need it now. I open the door and hurry outside.

  “Bye, bitch,” I hear her respond before the door closes. That’s her way of letting me know she understands. I let my shoulders fall forward as I take a deep breath in. I shake off the feels and walk to the black Mercedes Benz with the tinted windows that’s parked out front. I climb inside and fidget with the radio. I need to get back into work mode. I select the playlist by The Weeknd. It’s my warm up music. It gets the blood pumping in my lower regions. I don’t know how he manages to keep coming out with songs that make me and half the women around the world want to get naked at just the sound of his voice, but kudos to him for doing it. Men should be sending the singer thank-you cards for all the ass they get.

  I slide on my sunglasses, start up the engine, and crank up the tunes. I have one appointment to get to before I see my new client later. This guy, Kirk, I’m headed over to see now, is a very loyal regular. I visit him every week, same day, and same time. It’s always at his house. He’s into that real kinky shit. He loves being dominated and he really, really loves toys. He’s a professional tennis player who could probably have any chick he wants, but I think his sexual appetite probably scares away most of the women he meets. I just tell him to keep paying me the way he does and I don’t mind what he’s in to.

  I arrive at his house and knock on the door. He opens it and gives me his pearly white smile. He’s tall and sexy, like most of my clients, but to me he just looks like an ATM. I don’t see anything else. That’s how my brain works. Man. Job. Money. Repeat. I smile back.

  “Nine, it’s good to see you, sweetheart.” He eyes me head to toe. “Come in.”

  I bat my eyelashes and force Nine to come out and play, as he hands me money.

  “You look fuck-able tonight,” I say, stepping forward and grabbing his tie. I tug on it just once to get his attention. I watch him lick his lips as he closes the door.

  “You know, I mark down the days until I get to see you each week.”

  “I bet you do,” I tease.

  He looks at me with devious eyes. He’s not one to waste precious time. He’s ready.

  “I’ve been a very bad boy today,” he says in a deep throaty voice.

  “Have you broken the rules?” I ask. Seduction is dripping off my tongue.

  He looks down. I walk closer, pushing against his chest, backing him up against the door.

  “I said, did you break the rules? Answer me when I talk to you,” I demand. I slide my hand down low and give his cock a good squeeze.

  “Yes, mistress.” He falls into character. He looks down in shame.

  “What did I say about masturbating between sessions?”

  “Not to do it,” he answers.

  “And why have I given you this order?” I ask.

  “Because this cock is yours,” he replies.

  “That’s right. Now get down on all fours and beg for your punishment. You know better.”

  His eyes darken. He purposely disobeys me to be punished. He knows it and I know it. He drops to both knees. He loves this shit. Being told what to do turns him on. His whole body is shaking in anticipation. I slowly untie my dress and let it fall to the floor. He stares at my body.

  “I said on all fours, now,” I shout.

  “Yes mistress,” he cries out, and falls forward at my feet.

  I quickly look around at the place. It’s immaculate. It’s clean and organized. It screams control freak. I know his type. He probably spends all day giving commands and making calculated decisions, and yet here he is bowing before me. He’s giving me total control over his body. It’s his time to unwind and this is how he does it, by passing the sexual reigns to me.

  “You fucking disgust me. Do you know that?”

  “I’m sorry, mistress. Forgive me,” he begs.

  “I didn’t say you could talk. Crawl over to that couch and strip off those clothes.”

  He makes his way over and quickly peels off his suit and tie. I follow behind and begin to make circles around him. He’s now kneeling butt ass naked next to the coffee table. He has several objects that he laid out on the glass table prior to me getting here, as he always does. Today he’s opted for a dildo with lube, a cucumber, and a banana. I internally frown at the set up, but outside, Nine is working a fuck-me face. None of this does anything for me. It’s just a job. I personally count down the minutes until I’m done here.

  “Please,” he cries out, not looking at me.

  “Please, what?” I say, sternly.

  “I want it.”

  I shake my head behind him.

  “I don’t think you deserve it, you pathetic excuse for a man,” I bark out.

  He’s whimpering with excitement.

  “I’ve been bad. I deserve it.” He bows before me.

  “How bad do you want me to give it to you?”

  He licks the toe of my shoe, and then looks up at me from the corner of his eye.

  “I want it. I want your sweet little hands delivering it to me.”

  I look down at him and smile.

  “Bend over then, bitch.”

  Chapter 3. Take Away the Pain

  I hop into my car and head over to The Grand Belsier to meet up with this brand new customer Mr. V. that Jenny booked. I’ve been to this particular hotel more times than I can count so I know my way around. I valet my car and head up the stairs to the double doors. A door attendant greets me with a smile as I walk in. I quickly make my way past him, and over to the elevators to push the up button. I notice a man approach my side as I wait. I don’t really give him too much attention, until the both of us step inside the elevator. I discreetly side eye him. I take in his shaved head and neck tattoo that reads consumed. He’s dressed in a black suit with black dress shoes. His hands are covered in black leather gloves. He doesn’t look like the type to stay at a bougie hotel like this, and that’s what catches my attention. This place usually attracts the élite, and he seems too edgy to stay here. I scan him for a good reading. Expensive suit. Check. Expensive watch. Check. Expensive cologne. Check. I’m now just gawking at him in an attempt to figure this guy out. He looks like one of those sexy, but rough MMA fighters with his frame. I’m guessing five foot ten, maybe a h
undred and eighty pounds. His cologne waivers about and it slightly distracts me. I find myself wondering what’s under that suit of his. Occupational hazard. He looks over and catches me staring at him. I smile. He turns his face forward again, which rather pisses me off.

  “Is that Amouage Memoir you’re wearing? Your cologne, I mean.” I try to get his attention.

  The man slowly turns his head and looks at me with brown squinted eyes. He’s intimidating for sure. He doesn’t say a single word. Instead, he turns his face forward once again and stares hard at the elevator door.

  “I guess not,” I mumble.

  The doors open and we both step out on the same floor. We’re now walking side by side, in the same direction as well. Every so often, I sneak little peeks at the guy. His jaw line is impeccable. He’s sexy and tough and totally ignoring me. He’s got that bad boy thing down, and honestly, I like it. Maybe I’m just interested in the challenge. I try to think of something witty to say but I run out of time. I approach the room number for my client and the gentleman from the elevator slows down awkwardly, but doesn’t stop. It’s enough to raise an eyebrow, but whatever. I watch him quickly walk down the hall and then he looks over his shoulder once before he disappears around a corner. I take in a deep breath and knock on the door.

  A Hispanic man with wavy black hair answers with a grin.

  “Nine?”

  “Mr. V?” I smile.

  He waves for me to come in. I push my breasts up and my ass out as I walk past him. I can hear him close the door behind me.

  “Welcome. Please have a seat. Can I get you a drink, beautiful?” I hear a slight accent.

  “No. I’m good, but thank you.”

  “Come on. Just one drink. It’s not like you have to drive anywhere after this.”

  He has me there. I usually don’t partake in drinking with clients. I like to keep a straight head when I go from job to job. It’s vital to not be three sheets to the wind when you’re dealing with horny men all day. Dangerous things can happen.

  “Come on, Mami. One shot. I hate to drink alone.”

  “Well, you do have me for the night. So I’ll take anything you got, baby.”

  He smiles and turns to the bar. His back is to me as he pours the drink. I move my head to the right to notice several stacks of money on the nightstand. He quickly spins around, steps forward, and hands me a glass. I jerk my head up.

  “Brandy. It’s my favorite. I hope it suits your taste,” he says.

  He sits down on the bed next to me and puts his hand on my thigh.

  I down the liquor as fast as I can. I’m a bit nervous. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a new customer. I watch him toss back the Brandy in his glass, and then he looks over at me and smiles. He takes my empty glass out of my hand and places it on the nightstand along with his.

  “I’ve heard good things about you, Nine.”

  “Is that so?”

  “They say your pussy is like gold,” he purrs.

  “They, whoever they are, might be right.” I bite my bottom lip and wink.

  He nods and looks away like he’s waiting for something. Suddenly there is a long silence. This huge gap in the conversation happens and I start to feel uncomfortable. Just a few seconds ago, I was ready to get down to business and now a gut feeling is telling me to leave. However, I can’t. He booked me all night. The money is right there. Maybe he’s the type who likes to take his time or maybe he’s a little nervous. I sit there in character just waiting.

  “Are you good with your mouth, Nine?” he says.

  “Would you like to find out?” I quickly respond while I lick my lips.

  He chuckles and looks away again. What the fuck is his deal? This guy is bizarre. Most men would have unzipped their pants and had me down on my knees already. I clear my throat to get his attention, because he’s just sitting there gazing at the wall. He looks down at his watch and then back over to me. He’s definitely waiting for something. I start to speak, but right then the hairs on my neck stand at attention and suddenly I don’t feel too well. I become dizzy and my skin breaks out in a sweat. I grab at my chest. I feel my heart beat slowing down and my breathing feels off. He stands up and walks in front of me and that’s when I really start to feel it. My head tips forward and it takes everything I can to keep it up. I’m staring at a double vision of the man. He’s talking to me and his words are distorted.

  “What did you put in that drink?” I ask, trying to reach for my purse that carries a knife. My coordination is off. I miss my purse and grab at the blanket. “You drugged me?” I slur.

  “Ketamine. It’s a neat little drug.” His words echo.

  Parts of the room are fading as I look around. I feel like I may vomit and that my feet are starting to become numb. The man leans down into my face and stares into my eyes. I try to shake off this feeling. My eyelids are getting heavier with each passing second.

  “You’re taking a lot of money from me, Nine, and I don’t like when people play with my money.”

  I’m sitting there on the verge of passing out. His hands are rested on my shoulders and right now, they are the only thing that is keeping me from falling forward.

  “Wake up. Listen to me.” He shouts. “You’re my top bitch now. Do I make myself clear?”

  He’s a goddamn pimp. He pushes my chin up with one hand. My head falls back and I look up at him with my eyes glazed over.

  “Fuck you,” I mumble.

  He backhands me so hard I fall off the bed and onto the floor. My purse gets knocked off the bed and flies somewhere out of reach. I’m lying on my side and I can see his boots walking toward me. He walks closer and kicks me in the face. I can feel the blood spray out of my mouth and the sting spreads across my cheek. I’m now clawing at the carpet in an attempt to get away, but I can’t. I have no strength.

  “The only way to make you bitches loyal is to break you first. You’ll be begging to suck my cock when I’m finished with you, Nine.”

  He kicks me hard in the stomach. I cry out in pain, and as much as I want to, I can’t move. My body is totally immobile. I hear a scratchy noise, and then he covers my mouth with duct tape.

  “Rule number one. I like my bitches quiet, understand? When I talk, you listen.”

  I can hear him rustling with something else. He then rolls me over and puts his boot on my lower back to hold me in place.

  “Rule number two. Everything you have is mine from now on.”

  His boot is planted so hard on me; it feels like my back might break. I’m praying and wishing that the people in the two rooms next to us, would hear me, but I know they can’t. He then kicks me in the side with his free foot. I yell through the tape.

  “Let me show you what I do to bitches who take my money.”

  He begins to hit me on my back multiple times, with what feels like a belt. The burning pain stings with every lash. Tears are streaming down my cheeks. I can’t breathe. I can’t see straight and I feel like I may pass out, but of course he won’t let me off that easy. Just as my eyes shut, he wraps the belt around my throat, tightens it, and begins to drag me around the room. I’m struggling to breathe through my nose and wishing to die at this moment, just so I don’t have to suffer anymore.

  “What’s my name?” he asks, as he removes the tape from my mouth for a minute. He closes the belt tighter on my throat. I’m coughing and gagging on my own saliva.

  “I said, what’s my name?” he repeats.

  “I don’t fucking know,” I manage to grunt out.

  “Daddy. You call me big daddy from now on. Understand?”

  He closes the tape over my mouth again. He picks me up and slams me on the bed. He’s standing above me. My vision is blurry. He’s holding something up in the air. It’s sharp. It’s metal. I’m blinking fast in an attempt to clear my eyes. Shit, it’s a knife. It’s probably mine.

  “If you run or hide from me ever, I will cut your fucking tongue out. You are mine. I own you. Say it with me now. �
�I belong to Daddy.’” I slowly shake my head. “I said, say it,” he yells.

  I remain quiet. My throat has completely closed up. I can no longer feel my fingertips.

  “Oh, you’re a hard-headed whore, huh? Maybe you need a little more punishment or maybe I should just kill you and make it easier on myself,” he says.

  He crawls over me and straddles my hips, and covers my mouth with his hand. He then takes the knife and digs just the tip into my side. I release a muffled scream. He turns the handle of the knife back and forth so that the tip of the blade is twisting into my skin. I can’t take it anymore. I silently pray for my death. Kill me. Just kill me already, I beg in my head. That’s when I hear a pop, blood splashes across my face and the pimp comes crashing down on me. I suddenly feel the weight of his body being rolled off me. Tears are pouring hard down my face. I look up to see what appears to be a gun pointed at me. I start to cry harder. The blurry figure rips the tape off my mouth.

  “Who are you?” he asks.

  My brain is not functioning well enough to even respond correctly.

  “Drugs. He. Drugged. Me.” I push out, in hopes that what I’m saying is coherent. I’m hoping I’m forming the right words. Can he even comprehend me?

  The man pulls me up from the bed into his arms. My legs bend and my head falls back.

  “Who are you?” he repeats, as he lifts my head back up. This time the words echo in my ears.

  I look at his neck, which is blurry. I try to read the tattoo. It takes me a few seconds but my vision clears just long enough to read the word consumed. It’s the guy from the elevator.

  “I. Know. You.” I push out again.

  My head crashes forward to rest on his chest and my eyes look down. I notice streaks of blood on my outer thigh.

  “I’m…bleeding.” I murmur. “Am I going to die?”

  “Not today,” I faintly hear him say, just as my entire body gives out and my eyes close.

  ***

  I wake to what sounds like knocking. It takes a while for my eyes to adjust and focus. I look over to see a man sitting in a wood chair nearby. He’s tapping his gun on a table and gazing straight at me. I stare down to realize I’m lying in a bed in just panties and a bra. There are bruises up and down my body and scratches all over my hands. Several of my nails are broken and dry blood drops are sprinkled across my chest, arms and stomach. Everything hurts. It feels like somebody beat me with a baseball bat and that for the life of me I can’t remember what happened. I panic and try to sit up. My heart races and my breathing quickens.