Cocky Queen
Page 3
“For six months? I can be supportive and accepting. Six years? Probably not, but maybe.”
“I can work with that.”
She snagged the check, and he crossed his arms. “I was going to pay.”
“I invited you. I pay. You want to pay; you’ll have to invite me.”
Vic put a ten on the table. “Fine, but I’ll take care of the tip.”
She looked at the ten and back up. Met his gaze. So strong. He was afraid she’d argue, but she considered before giving him a simple, “Okay.”
He smelled wolf when they stepped outside, and his inner bird wanted to flourish their tail and block the way when an aged wolf stepped in front of them. The wolf wore faded jeans and a black Harley tee. He didn’t appear threatening, but Vic was on alert.
“Thanks for coming, but how did you find me?” Sandy was relaxed and seemed happy to see him, if puzzled.
The wolf gave her an affectionate look. “I called Shadow. You’re one of ours. We can find you anytime you need us.”
“Vic, this is Gramps. I texted him earlier because I was hoping he’d help us stop having to dance around...” She sighed. “The subject we’ve been dancing around.”
“He isn’t your grandfather.” The smells were all wrong for that.
“No. He’s part of the RTMC, and they all have nicknames. His is Gramps.”
Vic offered his hand, Gramps accepted it and shook with a, “Nice to meet you.”
Gramps looked at Sandy. “Find something to do for five minutes. We’ll be fine.”
“Don’t threaten him!”
The wolf chuckled. “We’ll be fine.”
She looked at Vic, and he motioned for her to give them a minute.
When she was gone, Gramps said, “She knows what I am, and she’s been bound both ways. If ya’ll have been dancing around the subject then I assume you’re good with her knowing you aren’t human. If you aren’t, I’ll lie and tell her you’re human and she was mistaken.” He sniffed. “Bird, not sure what kind.”
“Peafowl, and I’m fine with telling her now that I know she’s been officially bound. How are you connected to her?”
“She works for the MC.”
Guard dogs who protected her. The biker club was mostly made up of wolves. If they considered her theirs, did Vic have to ask permission to date her?
“I’m glad she has you looking out for her. She told me her employer doesn’t restrict her dating, so I assume we’re good. If there’s something I need to do, please let me know.”
Vic might be a drag-queen peacock, but he wouldn’t back down to even a biker werewolf when both were in human form. Still, he didn’t mind using manners and making sure he didn’t unintentionally step on toes.
When he stepped on them, he preferred to do it with intention.
“She doesn’t like it rough,” said Gramps. “Don’t hurt her and we’ll be good.”
Vic nodded and Gramps whistled. Sandy walked around a corner, and Vic touched her back when she neared.
Had Sandy fucked this man? She worked for him, so she probably had, but... ewww. Still, a working girl probably didn’t get to say she didn’t want to have sex with someone just because he wasn’t young and attractive. Either way, Vic had his hand on her to show possession, and he wasn’t usually the kind of man who needed to stake his claim on a human woman.
“You’re good to go, girly,” Gramps told her. “I’d rearrange your evening if I could, but—”
“No,” she interrupted. “I can’t do that to...” She sighed. “I’ll be there shortly before five.”
He gave her a nod, turned, and walked to an impressive Harley.
“So now I know who you work for.”
“Yes.”
“Glad you seem to be safe.”
“Gramps gave you whatever you needed to know?”
“Peacocks,” he told her, “are polygynous. Usually one peacock over several peahens. Some of my family choose to live this way, but I’ve always felt like finding one woman who’s perfect for me would be all I’d need. Maybe because I have Vickie and Victoria in my life? I don’t know. I’m also not sure where the age-play stuff came in, because it isn’t a trait of our kind, but it’s there and isn’t going away.”
“You aren’t monogamous?”
“I have been, and can be again for the right person. The point is, I’m not a wolf who wants to tear someone apart for looking at my woman. So long as you’re safe and feel good about yourself, I can be supportive.” For a few months.
“I’ll need to leave your apartment at three forty-five if I’ve already ate.” That would give her an hour to walk to her apartment, dress and make sure her clean-up bag was fully stocked, and drive to work.
“YOU LIVE ON THE FIRST floor?” Sandy loved her bird’s eye view of the city. It was one of the few things she’d enjoyed about city life, at first. Eventually, she’d learned to enjoy the nightlife and constant movement. Mostly, she and her friends from college studied together, but occasionally they’d let their hair down and have fun.
Vic opened the door and motioned her in. “Take a look out my living room window.”
His unit was right at the edge of the park, so it looked like the trees and grass were part of his backyard. His patio — complete with gas grill and comfy swing — looked out on the park.
“Are you vegetarian? No, you had bacon at breakfast. And sausage gravy. What do peacocks even eat?”
“Lizards, small mammals, insects, berries, lots of little plants. In human form I can eat just about anything, but processed foods don’t agree with me. Prince got organic cheese made from the milk of free range cattle this morning.”
“Did you bring the cheese for him, or was it a snack meant for you?”
“I brought it for him. You seem to walk him when I’m up because of my neighbor’s alarm clock, and he really doesn’t like me.”
“I’m sorry. He minds me for everything except barking. He’s so protective of me.” She pulled her phone from her back pocket. “I need to call my neighbor and let her know I won’t be home until later this evening. She worries.”
Vic went into another room while she made the phone call, and she went looking for him when she’d finished. His bedroom walls were the beige they’d likely been painted when he moved in, but his décor was all man — ebony wood furnishings, deep purple and dark hunter fabrics. Layered curtains beautifully framed the huge picture window without compromising even an inch of the view. When he sat up in the morning, he’d see trees and grass.
She walked to the bathroom and stopped at the door. He was looking at an array of essential oils, deciding.
“I think you need cedar, and maybe a touch of clary sage. We’ll add some orange or another citrus in later, but not now.” He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. “Let Uncle Victor take care of you, baby-girl. No worries. A bath and then to bed. When the curtains are pulled they block out every bit of the light. It’ll be total dark, but I’ll be right there, so you won’t be scared.”
His protective arms, his soothing voice — Sandy fell into the enchantment he wove and nodded against his chest.
“Okay then, baby-girl. Let’s draw your bathwater, and then I’ll put swim trunks on so I can get wet while I wash you.”
Vic relaxed her and reassured her, so when the bath was half-full, and the room filled with the relaxing scents of cedar and sage — he finally pulled her dress over her head and it seemed completely normal. Her body reacted as expected, with heat pulsing to her nether regions, but her mind was focused on the bath and the warm safety of Vic’s arms.
Vic piled her hair on top of her head and used a huge clip to hold it all in place.
His hands never touched her sexually. He washed her, massaged her feet, her shoulders, and talked her through a breathing meditation until she was almost asleep in the tub. Instead of telling her to stand, he lifted her and sat her on the side of the tub, wrapped a towel around her, dried her enough
she didn’t drip, and carried her to the bedroom.
“You’re so strong.” She sounded drugged, but she was clearheaded — just more relaxed than she could remember being in... years? Yes. Years. She wasn’t worried about the circuitry project due in two weeks, or the big test in her molecular systems class on Wednesday — nor was she planning how she should try to aim the session one of her best tipping clients had requested that evening. Every bit of her focus was on Vic, his hands, his voice, his breath. She didn’t know if her breathing matched his, or if his was synched to hers, but it was as if they breathed as one.
When she was dry, he tucked her under the covers while he rested on top of them, and he breathed with her until she was sound asleep, in the total dark, with soothing music playing so softly she could barely hear it.
SANDY AWOKE IN SOMEONE’S arms, in complete darkness. Three seconds later, a hand caressed her arm and a voice she trusted assured her, “I’m here, baby-girl. You’re safe. Go back to sleep.”
Her eyes drifted shut, darkness closed around her, and once again, she slept.
The next time she awakened, it was to the sounds of Sweet Home Alabama, and she was comfortable with Vic’s arm around her.
“I thought you were only Vickie when you were dressed as her?”
“This wakes me before a show. Helps me start to get into the right mindset.”
“Will it mess you up, with me here?”
“Not at all. I leave here and arrive there as Vic. I need the time to get to know the guests in the dressing room, or to catch up with them if I already know them. It lets me decide how to introduce them, gives us a chance to talk about how the show will go. Everyone getting ready together is part of the process.”
“What’s Vickie wearing tonight?”
“She’s starting out in a sexy little white eyelet-cotton summer dress with red cowboy boots, changing into a short red dressy-dress with red heels, which she’ll add a denim jacket to later, and then for the final two numbers, she’s wearing Daisy Dukes with a sexy, glittery, rhinestoned-to-the-stars pink and white cropped blouse, and sky-high platform cowboy boots. Also with rhinestones.”
“What do you do with your...” Crap. Should she be asking him where he put his dick?
“There are special garments that make sure it stays tucked out of sight,” he said with a chuckle. “Some clothes require clear medical tape, but all my outfits tonight will be fine with a g-string with a pocket in the crotch, to keep it between my legs.” He kissed her shoulder. “You’re really okay with this?”
She focused on a clock and saw it was nearly two. “You’re really okay with the fact I’ll be fucking other men in a few hours?”
“As long as you’re fucking them and not making love to them.”
But that was the thing — it was damned close to making love with some of them. His arm tensed around her, and she knew he’d picked up on her scent.
“Some of them are regulars. You get to know them. It isn’t love, and it isn’t making love like in a relationship, but it probably isn’t that far off. Some of them need the connection as much as the sex — maybe more.”
A pause. “Okay then. You’ve told me your job is all about the customer service, and I have no doubt you’re good at giving them what they need because I can’t imagine you half-assing anything.” He chuckled. “Pun not intended. The point is, when you’re with me, you’ll get what you need. If you get some of what you need from them, I’m good with that, too.” His fingers skated down her arm and he closed his hand around hers, so her fist was layered inside his. “I have to be on when I’m Vickie. Constantly aware of my facial expressions, voice intonation, posture, even the way I look out of my eyes. It’s all second nature now, but it’s still a relief to shed her persona and be myself again. My guess is it’s the same with Jeni. You’re Sandy with me. You never have to work at being on around me. They can get whatever they need from Jeni, but I get to take care of Sandy.”
Sandy had thought the only people who could possibly understand were the other women who’d done the same job, night after night, john after john. But somehow, Vic understood, and she was in danger of crying.
“Thank you.”
“Never thank me for understanding.” He kissed the side of her neck. “I have a robe you can wear while we eat. What do you like on your salads?”
“No olives, and nothing that’ll give me bad breath — so no onions or garlic. I prefer leafy greens to iceberg.” She considered. “It might be easier if you tell me what you have. It feels rude to list things you may not have.”
“I have a smoky blue cheese I like to use with my favorite vinaigrette.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“Cherry tomatoes, arugula, spinach, kale, romaine, radicchio, raisins, bacon, and a number of other meats I can prepare. Also, broccoli, carrots, cucumbers, and... other vegetables. You said you don’t eat a lot of meat, so I can boil some eggs for your protein.”
“No radicchio, just a teeny bit of bacon, but otherwise, build it however you want. I’d be good with any combination of those things.” He released her fist, she turned her arm, and their fingers intertwined. “Thanks for taking such good care of me last night. I think I like being your baby-girl.”
“I put a new toothbrush out for you in the bathroom. Little girls have to brush their teeth when they wake up. Go use the bathroom, brush your hair and teeth, and put the robe on — it’s hanging on the back of the door. I’ll be in the kitchen. Do you need me to make you some coffee?”
“Coffee would be great, but I can brush my teeth when I get home.”
“You’ll brush your teeth or you’ll get your pretty little bottom spanked.”
She tensed and started to argue, but heat pulsed to her clit and she squeezed her legs together. Her clients could only swat her bottom to role play, never to actually hurt her. What would it be like to be spanked for real when she didn’t do as she was told? She instinctively knew Vic wouldn’t hurt her badly, but she had no doubt he’d smack her bottom hard enough to sting.
Now, he patted her bottom and kissed her shoulder. “Go, baby-girl. Do as you’re told.”
The entire time she brushed her teeth, her clit raged between her legs. She got horny for her clients, but never like this. Even when they wanted to pretend to run the show, she was still running it. It was her job to direct the activity the way it needed to go, to make sure it wrapped up satisfactorily when the time was up, and to be sure the client was happy with his experience.
This was completely different. She and Vic hadn’t even kissed yet, and he had her needy as fuck.
Experiencing age play as a pro had only scratched the surface of what this particular kink could do to her libido.
Chapter Five
The first client paid for two girls. For an hour. They spent the first thirty minutes licking and sucking his cock and balls, and kissing each other when their mouths got close. Eventually, he fastened a strap-on harness around Sandy’s waist, ran the double-strap under her crotch, and re-tightened it all to be sure it was snug. He situated Sandy so her fake dildo was in the other woman’s butt, and both were on their stomachs with Sandy on top — soon to be in the middle.
And then he proceeded to fuck Sandy’s ass.
Sandy faked her orgasm and was pretty sure her coworker did as well, but the customer paid fourteen hundred dollars for the hour, and Sandy would get six hundred of it, plus he gave them each a two-hundred-dollar tip.
She had twenty minutes to get ready for Pat, her next appointment. He’d written out instructions and left them with the front desk earlier in the week — along with the dress he wanted her in, the plain cotton panties, and the trainer-looking bra he preferred. It was a magic bra, because her c-cup breasts looked all young and innocent in it.
A quick shower, her hair went into dog-ears, and she donned the clothes. Next came the simple, white, schoolgirl sneakers he’d also provided. Finally, she made sure all her eyeliner was gone, piled on the mascar
a, put soft pink lip gloss on, and sparkly pale-pink glitterdust in a few select places to highlight her eyes and cheeks.
A deep breath, and the door opened before she could make it into the chair he’d requested she be sitting in when he arrived.
“I’m sorry, Daddy! I had to potty. I’ll get right back to my homework.” Sandy would never call someone daddy in real life, but this was about Pat’s kink — not hers.
Someone had moved the student desk-and-chair combo into the room while she was in the shower, and placed the paper and pen on it, along with a few other items he’d provided. The maid had put fresh sheets on the bed. The room was ready, except for her.
She sat at the desk and lifted the pen. He’d left a page of math for her to be working on when he arrived. She’d worked a few of them the night before, when she’d had some time between customers. Thankfully, now she only needed to look as if she were getting back to work after a break.
“I’m disappointed, Jennifer.” A ruler was on the edge of the desk, and he lifted it. “Hands out. You know the consequences.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy! Please don’t punish me!”
“Daddy has to make sure his little girl learns to behave. Homework is important.”
She held her hands out, he tapped them both three times, she pretended it hurt, and he asked, “What have you learned?”
Sandy had no idea. She took a stab in the dark. “I can’t go potty without permission when I’m doing homework, Daddy.”
He watched while she worked the rest of the problems, his arms crossed while he loomed over her. It probably wasn’t normal to be horny while doing math problems, but Pat’s mere presence sometimes set her off.
As instructed in his handwritten sheet, she put the wrong answer for three math problems.
He put a big red X over each wrong answer. “What happens when little girls don’t learn their lessons?”
“They get a spanking, Daddy.”
“That’s right. Bend over the bed.”
She walked to the bed and bent over it, and the whole time, Sandy wondered how this might go if she were with Vic. This wasn’t going to hurt — but how hard might Vic spank? And what might he do afterwards, to soothe her?