by Pynk
Midori just listened and fought off her anxious screams. She stayed quiet and waited, hoping he’d finish and get it over with. Would he be done with her soon? If so, she vowed, it would be the very last time she’d ever see psycho Bailey Brenner again.
He continued his punishment. His words were irate and kinky. “Never been in an ass this tight. I like it in here. And I’ll have to do it again. I like the feel of this grip. It’s like my dick could blow up inside of you. You’d better be glad I didn’t bring my nine-millimeter and stick it inside of you. I’m about to. Yeah. That’s a good burst. Coming in that ass all because you told me no. See.” He gave an angry grunt and shot his sperm inside of the condom, again grunting longer and deeper, sounding like he was in pain. And then he seemed to instantly snap out of it, yanking himself out, simply saying, “Yeah. I took that.” He backed up like he was the man.
She slowly stood, feeling degraded and humiliated, just as he wanted her to feel. She looked over at him with hate.
His wild eyes shifted from her face to his dick to the bathroom door. He stepped to the door, cupping his hand under his dick.
When he was one foot past the bathroom door, Midori had her eyes on her purse and her dress along the sofa. As soon as he was two steps in, she dashed over to her bag, snatched it up, grabbed her dress, and bolted to the door, leaving her shoes, panties and bra there. She was gone before he could step from the bathroom to the living room, and to the room door.
Midori ran butt naked to the stairwell like she was doing a forty-yard dash, down the five flights of stairs, at the same time tossing her dress over her head, slipping into it before she darted out of the stairwell door that led to the lobby.
She hailed a cab back to her place, and from the moment she left the hotel room until the moment she got home, Bailey called. She turned her phone off, headed to her bathroom, and checked out her face in the mirror. Her cheek was scarlet red and her nose was scratched. Her mascara was smeared from burying her teary face in the mattress. She turned on the water to her shower and stepped inside, finally letting out her cries. She sobbed so heavily she could barely breathe. She rinsed herself with a bar of soap and washed her vagina. She inserted her middle finger and realized how wet she was. She smelled her finger, then inserted it once more, smelling it again, realizing it was her own juices. She’d had an orgasm. Her heart thumped in her chest and she gulped hard, wishing the evidence of her turn-on wasn’t a reality.
She washed her achy face and sore body, making sure to clean every orifice over and over, and washing her hair. Then she repeated it.
Within a half hour, she lay on her sleigh bed naked, just staring at the walls, still crying. She curled up into a fetal position and cried herself to sleep on top of the covers, wet hair and wet eyes, until the sun brought on a new day.
She awoke and frowned at the rays of the sun, realizing it was not a dream. She was raped, but couldn’t report it.
She finally turned on her phone and there were eleven messages from Bailey saying he was sorry, and she deleted them all.
The last one was a voice mail that she hadn’t expected to hear. “Midori, something told me to call you. I couldn’t sleep all night. Money gave me your number. We miss you. We’re sorry. I’m sorry. And I just wanted you to know that above all else, I love you, wildflower. Mom.”
Without hesitation, Midori pressed 7 and erased it as well. Her estranged mother’s voice did nothing to soothe her abused soul.
Next there was a text from her booker. Midori had been requested back again to be with Mr. 81, Dr. Feelgood, for a weekend. She needed to fly out to Puerto Rico on September 23 for three days. She took in a long breath and then gave an equally long exhale.
And cried some more.
For the tragedies of her past.
And the fact that her mind was taught such sickness that still lived in her head.
She said out loud, “One day.”
Praying that day would come sooner than later.
Two of the Republican candidates are African-Americans: Robert Sally and Darrell Ellington. If one of them wins, it will be the second time in U.S. history that our nation has elected an African-American president.
Sixteen
Money
Tuesday—September 20, 2011
Pretty in Pink, aka Mr. 31, wore a pale pink, extra-thin Durex condom over his thrilled penis as Money went down on him at the Belvedere Hotel. Money was seated on a sea-foam-blue guest chair in the bedroom as he stood over her. She ceased her unfinished blow job and said firmly, “Move.”
He took steps back and stood before her in his pink garter, black stockings, pink high heels, and black padded bra. He wore heavy makeup, including false lashes and hot pink lipstick, but this time he didn’t wear his wig, which made him look even more confused.
“Come here,” Money demanded, as she stood. She took the few steps to the bed and he followed.
He bent over, replying, “Yes, Ms. Queens.”
“Good boy.” She popped his cheeks with her hand, first his left cheek and then his right, until he began to turn red. He shook in anticipation as her hand met his skin. She continued.
He took off the condom and took hold of his penis, squealing like a girl while she spanked him down, even tapping near his testicles.
She said, “You want it harder, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
She spanked him again with more force. The harder she spanked, the more he sped up his stroking motion.
“You had enough?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“You ready to come for me?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Turn around now and do it. Come in your hand.”
He turned and cupped his left hand, jacking himself with his right hand, and released his sperm squirt by squirt. He gave off a sound like he was fighting to bridle his high-pitched moans of pleasure. He sounded like a wounded animal. “Ohhhhh.”
She instructed him, looking no-nonsense. “Hush. Don’t say a word. Not a sound.”
That only made him shoot a little bit more.
Money’s cell rang just as Mr. 31 was in submissive heaven, but it seemed that the sound of the ringing phone was like an alarm, reminding him of the real world. He looked instantly ready to shift back into man-mode.
Money walked to her phone as he headed into the bathroom. She asked, “What is it?”
“It’s me, Leilani.”
“I know. What?”
Leilani spoke quickly. “I drove to my appointment. And, well, it was like only about ten minutes away and I was running late, so I didn’t catch a cab. And well, after my appointment, I was in an accident.”
“An accident.”
“Yes. A cab just totally sideswiped me.”
“Where are you?” Money turned to face the wall, placing her hand on her hip.
“I was arrested.”
Money tapped her foot. “For what?”
“Driving while under the influence.”
“Leilani. Were you alone?”
“Yes.”
“You were drinking while working…Leilani, that’s a total violation.”
Leilani only said, “I need you to come and get me, please.”
“Come and get you? You’re kidding, right?”
“No. They won’t let me drive.” Leilani’s voice was full of worry.
“Then hail a cab.” Money rubbed her forehead. Her face showed her displeasure.
“They need bail money. Cash. I only have like maybe a hundred dollars on me. Plus, I need someone to take me to get my car, but they took my license so I can’t drive.”
Money gave a small laugh. “Oh well. That part is on you. Only a hundred dollars. Where are you?”
“Manhattan Central Booking.”
Money said angrily and impatiently, “I’ll get Jamie over there to take you home.” Click.
She shook her head, still holding on to her phone as Mr. 31 exited the bathroom. He looked
up at her while applying cold cream to his face to remove his makeup.
She said, “Tyler,” calling him by his first name.
“Yes.”
“One of my girls got in trouble. A DWI.”
“I heard you talking. Where is she?”
“She’s at Central in Manhattan.”
“What’s her name?”
“It’s Leilani. Leilani Sutton.”
“Done. And I agree. She should take a cab.”
“I’ll text her and let her know. Thanks.”
He walked back in the bathroom and transformed from the feminine look he had for his play-date to the masculine look he arrived in. He left wearing a gray suit and tie, though his shoulder bag contained his other life.
It was not the first time the New York City police commissioner provided favors to Money in her time of need.
And more than likely it wouldn’t be the last.
Money caught a cab to her home and got in a quick workout, and then sat on the sofa, making herself watch old movies. She was on her second movie, Bridesmaids, having eaten Ben & Jerry’s red-velvet ice cream, trying to get a break in the action. She hadn’t heard from Leilani and hadn’t bothered to ask Jamie to help out just yet. He’d been fairly quiet, and she was okay with that. She’d gotten used to his distance, and his random spurts of attention.
One person she did want to talk to, just to clear the air and check in, was Midori. She knew if she didn’t at least keep an eye on her sister, there was no telling what Romeo might do, or what Midori would let Bailey or Virgil do.
She shook out her shoulders and prepared herself to play nice, all in the name of keeping Lip Service afloat.
Money dialed Midori’s number and paused her movie.
“Yes,” Midori answered, sounding plain. “Hi, Money.”
“Hi. What’s been up with you?”
“Nothing.”
“I hear you’re going out of town again this Friday.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
Instead of speaking, Midori cleared her throat. There was an awkward silence.
Money said, “I’m just checking in with you. You, Leilani, and Kemba really need to keep yourselves straight. Make sure we’re in line at all times.”
“I know that.”
Money could still sense her distance. “Midori, we’ve got to get past this thing about Virgil. I’m assuming you’ve got him on your radar.”
“I do. And I know you don’t like him.”
“It’s not that I don’t like him. I just, I don’t want him playing Maxwell Smart and starting something we’ll all regret.”
“He’s fine.”
“Okay. And what about Bailey? What’s up with him?”
Midori said, with fast-moving words, “Haven’t seen him.”
“Good.” Money followed up with “You sure?”
“I said I haven’t seen him. You really don’t need to ask me things twice.”
“Okay, fine. I do have to ask if you’ve heard from Romeo?”
“No. Why?”
“He called.”
“Called you? Why?”
Money took the brown throw from the back of her sofa and laid it across her legs. “Just keep an eye out for him. You know, same old same old. Threatening to get you back.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. He’s got some nerve.” Midori showed a smidgen of energy.
“That he does. Said if not you, then Kemba.”
“Kemba? He’d never be able to get Kemba to stoop that low. Kemba’s got it made. There are a lot of women willing to pay for a man like him. No telling what Romeo would have him doing.”
“I agree. I think Kemba has more sense than that.” Money took a deep breath and went there, taking a trip into their past, feeling she needed to address it because of Midori’s behavior. Money knew her sister’s issues stemmed from problems with their parents—problems no one wanted to address. Money acted tough, but she truly loved her sister and was concerned for her well-being. Maybe talking things out would help Midori deal with things and let her know that if no one else cared, she did. “Listen, I want to tell you something. I keep thinking about all of the crap that happened the day you left home. About all that mess that made you leave. The day you left, Mom called and told me you stormed out, and then she told me why. I think that has a lot to do with you not being happy.”
“I knew she would. Easy for her to tell you after forgetting to tell me. I am happy. I’m fine. I don’t want you always telling me what I’d better do and not do. I’ve got enough sense to stay out of trouble.”
“I can’t help it. I’m your big sister before anything else. And I’m trying to keep this business afloat. As far as you being happy or not, I can hear it in your voice, and I saw it on your face. I’m really hoping, actually, I’m praying, you get past everything.”
“It was no big deal.”
“Midori, look, I found out what happened the day you left. You overheard Mom yelling at Dad during their argument because they thought you weren’t home. He brought up the day when she was eight months pregnant with you, and that he kicked her in the stomach hoping he would cause her to miscarry.”
Midori’s energy dipped again. “Whatever.”
Money paused and took a deep breath. “I know how messed up it is for you to realize that all the years you thought Dad was your birth father, he wasn’t. It was hard to hear him call Mom names for cheating on him back when she was modeling and to say that his best friend, Jimmy, was your father.”
Midori was silent.
Money said, “Midori. Please talk to me.”
Midori asked slowly, “You really didn’t know all along?”
“No. Not until you left. Mom called me upset, not knowing where you were. That’s when she told me everything.”
Midori was again silent.
Money waited her out.
Midori asked, “Did Jimmy know he was my father? I have to know.”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m thinking he did and that’s why Dad flipped out when he found out you and Jimmy slept together, that if he did it knowing he was your father, that was sick. That it would be bad enough if Jimmy didn’t know, but if he did, that was heartbreaking.”
Midori gave a loud exhale. “Heartbreaking for who?”
“For Dad. For you.”
“Please stop saying ‘Dad’ like he’s my father.”
“I’m sorry.”
Midori raised her voice, sounding frustrated. “Look, I slept with Jimmy on purpose to get back at your father. I felt he hated me. I wanted your father to hurt. All my life he showed me no attention. I didn’t know that in trying to get the man I thought was my father to show some feelings for me, I’d end up sleeping with my real dad. It’s just disgusting. It’s all too much.”
“It’s tough. And I know it’s hard to deal with. Hard to get over. I’m so sorry.”
“You keep apologizing. You don’t owe me an apology.”
“I’m apologizing for them. I admit that Mom and my dad are a strange-ass couple. They’ve been through a lot, even though Dad cheated on her over and over, and got caught with hookers, and stepped out on her no telling how many times, not to mention her cheating, too. Since then, I think you and I learned that infidelity is a normal thing.”
“You didn’t get treated the way he treated me. You were his birth daughter. I was another man’s child. You don’t know what it’s like. You’ll never know.” Midori’s voice began to slow.
“No, I won’t. You’re right. He has always been like ice, though, very cold, even to me. I felt that and I lived with it. He just is who he is.”
Midori was quiet yet again.
Money took a deep breath and felt her emotions rumble. She said, “Aside from that, I want you to know that what I’m sorry for is getting you into this business. Really regretting the day I asked you to work for me.”
Midori seemed sincere. “You gave me a way out from Romeo and the streets. It wa
s my choice. Not yours.”
“Yeah, but I guess what I really did was take you from the frying pan to the skillet.”
“You didn’t. I’m fine.”
“Maybe. Though sometimes, I feel like there’s no difference between walking the streets and laying up in a hotel waiting for a client to show up.” She paused. “But I’m in this too deep. Can’t let it fall apart now. That’s why I’m bringing this up about Mom. I want you to get better. Believe it or not, I want you to be happy.”
“Yeah, well sometimes it seems Lip Service comes before everything and everyone.”
Money waited in thought.
Midori waited longer.
Money wanted to tell her sister that it had to be that way. That there was no way she was going to jail. She couldn’t tell her that she was only checking in to make sure Midori wasn’t unraveling, and that she was reaching out to keep her sister from getting desperate just because of her past. Money finally said instead, “Well, listen, you enjoy yourself in Puerto Rico. And hey…”
“Yeah.”
“You know, sex to an escort is an act, not love. Don’t come back married now.” She forced a big laugh.
Midori managed a small one. “That’d be the day.”
“Yes.”
“And Money?”
“Yes.”
“You said Mom told you everything the day I left.”
“Yes.”
“Actually, she didn’t tell you everything because she doesn’t know everything.”
Money asked quickly, “Really. What else is there?”
“One day you’ll know. One day I’ll tell you.”
“Oh, Midori, you and your one days.”
“One day.”
“Okay. You promise?”
“I promise. Bye.” She sounded plain again.
“Ciao, sis. Be safe.”
Money hung up, rested her head back upon the sofa, and wept.
She had to survive, in spite of herself.
Senator Darrell Ellington will be in Florida to speak on the topic of family values. He will also discuss his feelings on gay marriage, which gay rights activists have criticized him for.