Pain Lived, Love Found 2

by Thalia Lake

  “Clean yourself up and go home. If you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it and say that you came on to me because you’re nothing but a slutty tease. Who would believe you anyway when the whole school knows you’re nothing but a filthy slut walking around giving head to any boy that whips out his dick. I’m shocked that you were a virgin. I guess the joke’s on me, huh? Maybe now you’ll think twice about teasing men.”

  He walked away and went to his office. When he came back, he handed me an excuse to go home. “Take this to the office,” he said, and turned around to take the equipment bag and bats outside.

  Every move I made hurt like hell. It felt like someone had ripped open my insides with a jagged knife, and that’s because that’s exactly what Mr. Sullivan had done to me. He didn’t just rape me; he took pleasure in my pain. He was hell bent on causing me as much pain as he possibly could and he succeeded. I managed to get to the girls’ locker room and clean myself up as best I could and change back into my street clothes. I didn’t bother to stop by the office; I simply walked out of the school and went home.

  For the next three days, I refused to go to school. I told my mother I was sick and didn’t feel well, but after the third day she made me go back. However, I didn’t return without carrying a switchblade. From that day forward I carried that switchblade with me. I bought it at a pawn shop, and I never went anywhere without it. I refused to go back to gym class, however, and Mr. Sullivan not only gave me a passing grade, but he never marked me absent. I knew he was trying to save face in case I decided to tell on him. I would see Mr. Sullivan in the hallways at school and he’d always smirk at me. I never responded; I just stared blankly at him. I knew if he tried to touch me or approach me in any way again that I would kill him. It was that simple.

  I carried this secret with me for many years, never telling another soul - not even Carly. That day my life changed forever. My innocence was stolen. My virginity was the last thing I had control over, the one thing I held onto dearly, and it was viciously taken away from me. I may have been a slut in many people’s eyes, but it was still my dream to give my virginity to the man I loved and married. That opportunity was taken away from me and my belief in love and happily ever after was forever broken because I felt defiled. What man would want to marry me now? I simply couldn’t fathom it. I was forced to grow up, and my eyes were open wide to how cruel the world truly was, and how nasty and uncaring men can be. Nothing in life is fair. You can only depend on yourself, and you have to get what you want by any means necessary.

  Looking back on it, Mr. Sullivan had been watching me for a long time. There were times when I’d catch him staring at my breasts or butt, but I naively ignored it. I was so intent on getting the man to like me because he picked on me all the time. I wanted to prove myself to him and show him that I was a good student and a hard worker. That day I vowed that I would never be taken advantage of or caught unprepared again. From that day forward, Sarah Paris would always come first no matter what.

  Chapter Three - Hating And Loving Sloane (Sarah)

  In addition to Carly, our parents had two more children, my brothers Johnny Jr. and Michael. Two years after Michael was born Sloane came along and about five years later the baby of the family, Evan was born. Sloane was doted on and spoiled rotten from day one. She instantly became our father’s favorite. She was an adorable, happy, and friendly baby and grew up to become a beautiful young lady. Even as a tomboy who dressed in jeans and ratty T-shirts all the time, Sloane was pretty. She had no clue of just how pretty she was. I knew she looked up to me and tried to be like me, and honestly Sloane was a sweet baby sister, but I was jealous of her. I was jealous of the attention she received from everyone she came in contact with. I was jealous of the special treatment she received from our parents - our father in particular, because she was his favorite. But mostly, I was jealous of her innocence. Sloane was a good girl. She was a homebody who didn’t care about going out to parties or sneaking around to do things. She didn’t care about boys until she got into high school, and even then she was the perfect daughter who never gave our parents any trouble. She was shielded and protected from many things, and I wished I had been shielded and protected, too.

  My reasons for being jealous and resentful of my baby sister are my own issues, my own hang-ups, but it didn’t stop me from treating her unfairly either. Carly tried many times to help Sloane and I get along, but I didn’t want any part of it. Sloane is everything I wished I was. I wished I wasn’t the oldest. I wished I had an older sibling to look up to and learn from. I wished that I didn’t depend on my looks to validate my self-worth. I wished I hadn’t been raped. I wished I didn’t hate myself so much because I was raped...

  My twisted way of getting back at my baby sister for all of my shortcomings was to prove to her and myself that I was the prettiest, that I had all the street smarts, and that in any given situation I could get what I wanted. This included propositioning her boyfriends and male friends. Nothing and no one was off limits in my world. There were two of Sloane’s boyfriends who took me up on my offer, and they broke up with Sloane shortly afterwards. The rest turned me down, but it didn’t stop me from trying. I had fun chasing her last serious boyfriend, Christian. He was clean cut, successful, and made very good money. He traveled a lot, but when he was in town he was always with Sloane. One day I decided to follow him. I wore a very short black skirt that showed off my shapely thighs and big booty and left little to the imagination. I also wore a tight white top that dipped low in the front so that my big breasts stood at attention in his face, and five- inch stiletto heels. I wore no panty hose and no underwear. When I caught him alone I pounced on him like a hungry lioness hunting for food.

  Can you tell I was determined? I had gotten out of my late model BMW that a former boyfriend bought for me, and walked up to his apartment building and rang his doorbell. When he opened the door I saw surprise and a twinkle of lust in his eyes.

  “Sarah...what are you doing here?” he asked in surprise. I watched as he struggled to keep his eyes on my face instead of my breasts. I smiled seductively and said, “My cell phone died, and I was in the neighborhood and wondered if I could use your phone quickly? I’m on my way to an appointment and I’m running late. It’ll only take a second.”

  I saw the hesitation in his eyes, but he stood back and allowed me in anyway. I strutted inside, making sure I put an extra dip in my hips before I stopped and waited for him to lead the way to his apartment. He walked quickly in front of me, but I continued my slow, seductive pace before I finally entered his spacious apartment. When I walked inside, he had his house phone in his hand and handed it to me. “Here you go. I’ll give you some privacy,” Christian said, before he quickly walked to the back of his apartment and around a corner.

  I dialed a fake number and began to speak loudly, pretending like I was informing someone that I was running late. After a few moments I hung up the phone and began to walk around his apartment, looking at the various pictures on his shelves and tables. Most of them were photos of him and Sloane, and it pissed me off to see them cuddled up and smiling happily. Christian walked towards me with his hands in his pockets. He seemed anxious. I knew he wanted me gone, but he wasn’t going to get rid of me so quickly.

  “Were you able to take care of what you needed?” he asked nervously.

  “Yes, thank you for being so kind, Christian. I really appreciate it. I hope Sloane appreciates you too,” I said, as I walked towards him and played with a button on his shirt. “Men like you are hard to find these days. Smart, successful, handsome. I see all of the wonderful qualities you possess, Christian, and I appreciate you for the amazing, hard -working man that you are,” I purred softly, as I locked my eyes with his. I know men, and Christian wasn’t as unaffected by me as he tried to appear. I saw the increase of his pulse in his neck, and I saw that his chest began to rise and fall at a faster pace as his breathing increased as well. I know when men are turned on, and Christ
ian was slowly heating up.

  “I appreciate your compliments. Yes, Sloane appreciates me.” Christian finally responded as he firmly removed my hands from his chest.

  “But how does she show you? By giving you cards? Candy? Corny gifts? I know she’s not satisfying you the way you need to be in bed because...well, my baby sister is a prude, and frankly very inexperienced.”

  “Sarah, that’s your sister. You shouldn’t talk about her that way, and what we do or don’t do in the bedroom is none of your business,” Christian replied, defensively.

  “Uh-oh, I hit a nerve didn’t I, Christian? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to point out how sexually frustrated you are.”

  I purposely dropped a piece of paper I was holding in my hand and then turned around to pick it up. “Oh, look at me littering up your beautiful apartment. I’m so sorry, let me pick that up.”

  I slowly bent over at my waist, giving him an ample view of my bare ass and more. When I straightened up and turned back to face him, Christian’s mouth was hanging open. I simply smiled. I had him, and now it was time for me to go in for the kill.

  “You’ve seen what I’m offering. Has Sloane shown you what she’s offering, or is she still playing hard to get?” I asked, as I pressed my breasts into his chest.

  Christian blinked quickly a few times, as if he was coming out of a trance and yelled, “Sarah, you need to go. Now!”

  He took me by my arm and ushered me to his front door.

  No, damn it! I had him! What did I do wrong? What changed? How could Sloane have such a hold on him when I know for a fact she hasn’t given up the goods to him? Men don’t stick around if a woman isn’t putting out! Trust me, I know.

  “What’s the rush? We could have some fun, Christian, and no one would be the wiser. Just think about it, you could have the best of both worlds: a relationship with Sloane, and get topped off by me whenever you need it. Isn’t that every man’s dream?” Christian looked at me for a moment and didn’t say a word. It appeared that he was actually thinking about it!

  “Sarah, you should be ashamed of yourself for even suggesting something so despicable.”

  Christian looked away as he spoke. Have there been others that he’s been tempted by besides me? The more I observed him, the more I sensed his shame because he knew he wanted what I was offering.

  “You and I both know you don’t mean that,” I replied with a disbelieving eyebrow raised.

  “Please leave, Sarah.” This time he looked me in the eyes, and now there is anger there. Anger because the truth hung heavy in the air between us. “You don’t even want a blow job?” I asked, in a last ditch effort. What did I have to lose by using the direct approach at this point?

  “No, Sarah. Please go, and never come back here again.”

  He opened the door for me and waited for me to walk through it.

  Smiling confidently, I stopped outside the doorway and turned around to look at him. “One day you’re gonna look back on this and kick yourself HARD for not taking me up on my offer. C’est la vie. Thanks for letting me use your phone, Christian, and good luck with your dry dick and blue balls.”

  I turned around and strutted my way down the hallway and out of Christian’s apartment building. I was pissed that I couldn’t get him to bite, but knowing that he thought about it was good enough for me. A few months after propositioning him, Christian and Sloane broke up. I know for a fact that Sloane’s stinginess with the sex had a lot to do with it. I had put something on Christian’s mind, and he knew I was right.

  Go ahead and say it: I’m a rotten person and a horrible sister. Tell me something I don’t already know. Tell me something I haven’t been told a million times by my parents, jealous girlfriends, wives, and other people who think they know me. I’ve been with, and around men from various backgrounds, and at the end of the day they are all the same. Nothing about any of them stood out to me other than how much money they had in their bank accounts or pockets, and how much of it they were willing to give to me. They used me and I used them. There was never any love lost for any of them. Love was the furthest thing from my mind. Love is for suckers, not for people like me who live in the real world.

  Sloane, on the other hand, was the type of woman that men fell in love with over and over, but she always pushed them away. She stayed in a relationship with Christian the longest, and I believe in her own way she loved him, but for whatever reason she could never take that next step in the relationship. I also believe that Christian loved her as well, but grew tired of waiting and was too afraid to tell her. I’d like to think that I was instrumental in helping them see that they weren’t right for each other.

  I know the next thing I say will sound like a total contradiction based on how I’ve treated Sloane, but regardless of the mean, underhanded, and hateful things I’ve done to my baby sister, I am very proud of her and her accomplishments. She worked her butt off and put herself through college, and then worked even harder to become a successful career woman at PriceWaterHouse. Amongst all the dysfunction that the Paris family is known for, she is our success story. I happily brag about Sloane’s accomplishments to anyone who will listen. My relationship with Sloane is the true definition of love-hate, but at the end of the day, I love her more than anyone will ever know. She’s my sweet baby sister and always will be.

  Chapter Four - Riding High and Hitting Rock Bottom (Sarah)

  After graduating high school, I immediately moved out of my parents’ house and moved in with some girls that I knew. We split the rent and bills down the middle, but my minimum-wage jobs weren’t cutting it, and I got tired of struggling to make ends meet. During this time, I did one semester at the community college studying business administration before I became completely bored with it and decided that wasn’t the career path for me.

  Sandy Miller was one of the few friends I had in high school that I actually stayed in contact with over the years, and she was the one who introduced me to the world of high-class escorting. I reached out to Sandy when all other options failed. After Sandy explained to me all the services that her private escorting business provided, she informed me that she had a client who needed someone to accompany him to a fancy awards party for his law firm. He wanted someone young and pretty to impress his colleagues. He was willing to pay one thousand dollars up front and another fifteen hundred at the end of the night if he had a good time. There was no way I was going to pass up making that kind of money when I had rent and bills due. Thus escorting was my introduction into a whole new world that I knew nothing about, a world that I made sure my family never found out about. They already thought the worst of me, some even believing that I was a prostitute, sold drugs, or both, because I suddenly always had money and wore nice things. I let them believe what they wanted to believe, but I knew the truth. I never slept with these men; these were dates for companionship only. Sandy always made that clear to her clients and potential clients before they signed a contract for any of her girls’ services.

  Escorting also introduced me to a class of people that I never imagined I’d be around in a social setting. It’s how I met CEOs, politicians, and even drug dealers. Once I agreed to go out with Sandy’s client, he made arrangements to buy me an elegant party dress. He even paid for my hair and makeup to be professionally done at an upscale salon. He wanted me to look amazing, and I wanted the same. His name was Richard Wheeler, and he was a handsome, older white gentleman who didn’t care that I was black. He wanted to cause a stir walking into his firm’s party with me on his arm because his soon-to be-ex-wife was going to be there with her new boy toy, who was also a young, big shot attorney. My job was to make her jealous and to have his colleagues green with envy. I did exactly that and more. I actually had a wonderful time that night. For the first time in my life a man treated me like a lady. Richard was very kind to me, and even though we enjoyed ourselves making his wife jealous, we truly enjoyed each other’s company. We danced, laughed, and we got to know each other in b
etween it all. Surprisingly, none of the behavior was forced. Richard made me feel so at ease that I felt like I could be myself - and that didn’t happen often.

  At the end of the night he gave me five thousand dollars in cash, way more than what I was originally expecting, and he informed me that he wanted to keep seeing me. I could tell by looking in Richard’s eyes that he fell in love easily, and if I wasn’t careful, I would fall in love with him too. I was young and still trying to figure out what to do with my life, but falling in love wasn’t in the cards for me. We saw each other two more times and then after our last date I stopped returning his phone calls. Richard was sweet, and he never forced himself on me or asked for sex, but I knew he wanted a real relationship. He was a sweet, middle-aged man who was heartbroken and lonely, but I couldn’t give him my heart.

  I wish I could say that all the men I met through escorting were kind like Richard, but they weren’t. The more money and power they had, the meaner they were. There were a few who thought they could manhandle me and knock me around, and I made sure that they instantly regretted doing so. I would whip out my switchblade on them, and if they were still stupid enough to try me, I’d slice their asses up.

  The other drawback from being around men with power and money was that many of them over indulged in alcohol and drugs. I never drank and never did drugs until I met these men, and that’s how my drug and drinking habit began. I hid this from my family as much as possible, but Junior and Michael knew. They were the ones I called when I was too messed up to get home on my own, or when I found myself in some random guy’s house half naked and hung over. My brothers kept my secret, but lectured me all the time about being careful because how I was living was reckless and dangerous. I knew they were right, but the drugs and alcohol masked the pain I felt on a daily basis.