Scars: Book One

by West, Sinden

  “Hey, you’ve got friends. I thought I was your only friend.” He held it out of my reach as he read my message.

  “From Merida…She says ’That hottie you left with on your last day came in looking for you. You’ve got to start sharing your secrets. Call me.’ That sounds intriguing,” Thomas teased.

  Aaron?

  I frowned and managed to grab the phone out of his hand. I’d call her later. I’d just been communicating with her mainly by text so that I didn’t have to explain things.

  “Never mind,” I turned my phone off and threw it down on the ground beside me. Then something caught my eye.

  Peeking out of the waistband of Thomas’s jeans was unmistakably hot pink lace.

  “What’s this?” I reached over and pulled at the fabric.

  “Hey, hey, hey. Ease up.” He pushed my hands away. “You’ll give me a wedgie.” Then he smirked. “Anyway, why should I tell you my secrets when you won’t share yours?”

  I plucked at the lace again. “This isn’t really secret. It’s more kinky … actually, it makes you slightly more interesting. Does your girlfriend know you wear women’s panties?” I asked with a smile.

  Thomas looked me straight in the eye. “I’ll tell you all about it; actually I’ve been wanting to for a while.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Yeah, just so long as you tell me about the ‘hottie’ whose looking for you. Is he a potential love of your life?”

  I shook my head. “Definitely not. He’s one very nasty, depraved, sick individual.”

  Thomas’s eyes lit up, and he pointed at me. “I knew it!”

  “Knew what?”

  “That you were fucked up, just like me. That everyone shits on you all the time. That you’d attract the darker side of life. I mean, just look at you!”

  “What do you mean, ‘look at me?’” I sat up straight.

  He motioned with my hands up and down my body. “You’re little, petite, thin, whatever you want to call it. The people you attract are the ones who want to dominate you, they want to degrade and humiliate you!” he announced with a flourish as if this were good news.

  I opened my mouth to ask a question, but he pre-empted me. “I’m the same. My whole life everyone has decided that a fun game to play is the humiliation of Thomas. You know what my nick-name in high school was? Little Dick because, well, you know, it’s tiny.” He motioned toward his groin, and I opened my mouth in disbelief that we were having this conversation. “My sophomore year a bunch of jock assholes dragged me out of the locker room butt naked and tied me to a fucking goal post so everyone could see my lack of, uh, manhood and after that the name just stuck. Admittedly it’s not as bad as the moniker ‘fag’ which my Dad liked to call me…”

  I clutched at his arm. “Oh god, that’s awful. I’m so sorry–“

  “No,” he shook off my arm. “It’s not awful.”

  “It’s…not? It sounds really traumatizing to me.”

  Thomas smiled and shook his head. “After I got free, you know what I did? I locked myself in a toilet cubicle and masturbated desperately. I never came so hard in my life.”

  I cocked my head at him. “It turned you on?”

  “Hell yeah. I still fantasize about it.”

  I sucked in a breath. “I don’t really know what to say about that.”

  He grin flashed wider. “Don’t say anything. I get off on it, not only that, I use it to my advantage. Do you have any idea of the sick freaks out there who can’t get a fucking hard on or wet pussy unless they’re humiliating or dominating someone? This is a nasty city with a whole lot of nasty creeps in it. And what’s more, they have a shit load of money to spend.”

  “So what, you’re saying you’re a prostitute?”

  He rolled his eyes. “No, Paige. I find people who want a, I guess, pet is the better word. They want someone they feel like they own. It’s purely sexual, and they buy me stuff. I’m hoping Miranda will ask me to move in with her soon.”

  “So this Miranda, she’s what? Your mistress?”

  “Yup. She’s filthy rich and one sick, twisted bitch. Personally, I prefer dick to pussy, but the women are easier to handle than the men. They never seem to manage to keep all the emotion out of it. Anyway, Miranda’s particular kink is humiliation; some of the others are more into causing pain which isn’t really my thing. Miranda likes to take away my masculinity and treat me like I’m a girl; particularly in front of other people. The panties are on her order. She also likes to make me suck off other guys which she thinks I hate, but little does she know.” He flashed a wicked grin at me and wiggled his eyebrows, making me laugh in spite of myself. “She especially likes it if I beg her not too and shed a tear or two. I’m a fantastic actor, baby.”

  He lay down and stretched out, yawning. I watched him, amazed by what he’d just told me.

  “How did you get into this?” I watched his face; he really was pretty.

  “I was sixteen when my Dad kicked me out, and I arrived here. I met Sam practically the second day I got here. I’d slept on the streets that night and I was so scared and tired and hungry. Sam was buying drugs off some guy at one of the apartments, and I was sheltering in the doorway. He liked how I looked and probably how desperate I was. I was so fucking naïve back then; I didn’t even understand what he wanted until he started taking off my clothes and pushing my head down to suck his cock. I think I took him by surprise by how much I enjoyed it, and he decided to keep me around as his dirty secret. It was very much a master/slave relationship, but stupid me adored the guy. Sam’s from some old moneyed family; he’s the black sheep and his Dad gives him just enough to get by without embarrassing him. I got a shitty job at a dive worse than where we work just to pay the rent because Sam kept spending most of the money on drugs. But I didn’t care; I thought I was in love. Anyway, Sam started taking me to these sex parties which were pretty fucking wild and eventually, I met a guy who took a liking to me and wasn’t a drug addict, he wanted to buy me stuff and by that stage I was sick of Sam spending all my money, anyway. That guy lasted a few months and there have been a few others since him, but I tell you, women are where the money’s at.” He looked over at me. “So what do you think?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not judging you.”

  “You missed my point. I don’t care if you judge me. I’m asking if you’re interested?”

  “What? Are you serious?”

  Thomas sat up, and by the look on his face I could tell that he was.

  “Listen, Paige. I like you, I really do. But let’s face reality here. You don’t seem to have any friends except this Merida person. You have a shitty job, a shittier apartment with a roommate who is really creepy, by the way.”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  “What happens if you get sick and can’t work? Who would take care of you and pay your bills? You’d be on the street before you knew it. It’s tiring doing it all on your own, making every decision and every bad choice. Eventually you’ll get so tired that you’ll give in to one of those drop kick assholes that drool over you at the diner and then where will you be? You’ll be some guy’s bitch and nothing to even show for it.” He took my hand gently. “Don’t get me wrong. These people, they’re pretty depraved. But you and I know what depraved is, and we’re ready for it. And these people have money. Lots of it. It’ll be like we’re really playing them.”

  And that’s how I agreed to go to the party with him.

  Miranda the sick and twisted lived in a fairy-tale mansion by the sea. It was white and tiered like a wedding cake, and I tried to retain some dignity as we drove up to it. Thomas had helped me pick a dress for this evening. It was a pale blue halter neck which ended just above my knees. As I stepped out of the car (a Mercedes, Miranda bought it for him) the cool air made my nipples all the more prominent through the dress. Thomas hadn’t let me wear a bra, and I felt exposed already.

  A servant answered the door and took our coats. Miranda
intercepted us almost immediately. I had imagined her to be beautiful but instead she was pinched and sinewy like she worked out at the gym too much. Thomas told me she was forty, but she looked closer to fifty even with the Botox and fillers.

  “There you are, naughty one.” She grabbed Thomas’s chin and tilted his face so that he was forced to open his mouth as she fucked him with her tongue. It was so clear to see who the dominant one was here, and I suppressed a smile as I heard Thomas moan into her mouth like he was turned on. He really was a good actor. When she’d finished with him, she turned to me and cast her eyes up and down in a way that made me want to cover myself, but I stood firm and lifted my chin.

  “Madame, this is Paige, the friend I told you about.”

  She leaned toward me and planted thin lips on my cheek. “Hello, dear,” she murmured in my ear. “You are going to be very popular tonight.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that, but I didn’t have to as a waiter moved towards us with a tray of champagne. Thomas plucked two off the silver tray and handed me a delicate flute. I sipped at it gratefully.

  Miranda moved away to greet more guests, and Thomas guided me out of the foyer and through a set of heavy, ornate doors.

  “Don’t worry about her,” he told me. “She’s strictly dick, which is ironic since she really likes treating me like I’m a fucking girl. Oh, and I’ll give you a heads up now. You’re most probably going to be treated to my humiliation as a floor show tonight.”

  “Oh,” I said dismally as he let me into a room.

  This room was huge, perhaps it had been designed as a ball-room but now it was filled with various couches and love-seats. Spanking stools and horses littered the area and I only knew what they were because a variety of red bottomed people, men and women, were positioned on them. Shackles on the walls held others in place, and a harness hung from the ceiling with a nude man suspended in it. Others dressed in evening wear stood around drinking champagne like nothing kinky was going on at all.

  “Wow!” I hissed to Thomas.

  He raised his eyebrows at me. “Exciting, huh? Just relax. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  I saw a nude girl being led by a leather clad man on a leash that was attached to a leather collar around her neck. One hand instinctively went to my own neck while the other clutched my champagne flute as memories invaded. But the difference was that this girl looked happy. She was staring adoringly at the master who controlled her. I threw more champagne down my throat and instantly a waiter appeared at my side to take my empty flute and pass me another.

  “Take it easy there, Paige,” Thomas said.

  “Really?”

  He shrugged. “Nah. It’s a party with free champagne. Drink up.”

  He walked me around the room, and we watched various scenes of lovemaking, punishment and humiliation. Nobody minded our attention, and when I said this to Thomas, he said “That’s the point of this. To either be humiliated and submissive or to dominate and humiliate. I told you they’re all depraved fucks. Including me.”

  I noticed several admiring glances sent our way and several said hello to Thomas. One tall man dressed in black tie and who looked like an accountant stopped us. “Hello, little girl.” At first I thought he was speaking to me, but his finger stretched out and traced down Thomas’s face. Thomas’s eyes immediately went to the floor in a submissive gesture.

  “Hello, Sir.”

  I watched as the man’s hand swept down Thomas’s chest and then slowed at his groin, cupping him there.

  “Edward!” Miranda intruded, pressing a kiss onto the man’s cheek. “Are you touching what’s mine?” she teased.

  “I thought we could share her.”

  “Perhaps, but not yet.” She turned to Thomas. “I want you to go introduce your little friend to Nora, and then we’ll play.”

  Thomas led me away. “That guy, Edward, is some internet millionaire. He likes me a lot. If this thing with Miranda doesn’t work out, I’m going after him. He just loves seducing guys he thinks are straight.”

  I frowned. “Okay. Who are you introducing me to?”

  “Nora Buchanan. She owns a chain of beauty salons, which is ironic since she looks like the back end of a bus,” he whispered in my ear and I giggled.

  Everything about Nora was tall, broad and square. She may have been ugly, but she was powerful and her presence commanded respect. After Thomas introduced us, she ordered him away. He obeyed without question, and I was left looking after him in alarm. I was on my third glass of champagne by then and feeling slightly freer and less shocked at the surroundings.

  She wrapped a manicured hand around my wrist. “Don’t panic. I won’t hurt you just yet.”

  The combination of her firm grip and her words should have made me panic, but I was drunk, and a little turned on by the evening. I didn’t know where to look, so I cast my eyes down at the polished marble floor. I heard her laugh slightly, and her breath was hot on my cheek as she leaned toward me to whisper in my ear. “You’re a natural submissive. Good girl. You just do what I say.”

  I drank the rest of my champagne in one gulp, and the glass was instantly taken from my hand. A strong tug on my wrist forced me to topple forward unsteadily on my heels, but I was caught and lowered into her lap as she sat on one of the ornate love seats. Another flute of champagne was pressed into my hand, and I didn’t know what to do as I sat in the lap of this older, larger woman. I felt so small and vulnerable, so I gulped back the champagne and tried not to look at the woman who held me there. That glass was empty when it was taken from me, but this time, nothing replaced it.

  “Untie your dress,” she whispered. I looked at her in alarm; she was staring at me with hard eyes and I didn’t feel like there was anything else I could do. So I raised my hands behind my neck and untied the halter. The fabric fell down, exposing my breasts, and Nora’s hands were instantly on me. They squeezed and twisted at them and my nipples hardened into peaks. She laughed at them. “You like it rough, huh?”

  I wanted to shake my head no, but my body had betrayed me already. She must have read the alarm in my eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not too sadistic.” Her hands worked on pushing the skirt of the dress up so it sat firmly bunched around my waist and then my panties were pulled down so they looped around one ankle. My legs were spread wide as all of me was on show for anyone who wanted to watch. And just as I had watched them before, they now watched me.

  Nora pinched my clit, and I yelped and jumped but she held me firmly in her grasp. Someone laughed, and I buried my head in Nora’s shoulder in mortification. She was being nice now, rubbing me in just the right places so I could feel the wetness pooling from me. And then without warning she’d switch to the cruel pinching which turned me on even more. She continued like that, between nice and cruel until I was practically crying in desperation. She made me beg her to let me come, and I held off at first until I couldn’t stand anymore tormenting. She made me beg her loudly and clearly for the audience’s benefit, and after I did, it was a cruel pinch that sent me over the edge as my body uncontrollably came like I was a puppet and she the puppeteer.

  When I recovered, I wanted to run and hide in embarrassment. But she wouldn’t let me; instead I had to stay there with my legs spread, and pussy glistening for all to see. I stayed like that while Miranda ‘played’ with Thomas. He was stripped down to the pale pink pantie and bra set that he wore under his clothes before being put over Miranda’s lap and spanked. He made such a show of squirming and protesting, but his tiny erection betrayed him. She mocked his penis size and made him tuck it between his legs so he practically did look like a girl in the panties. The finale was of him sucking Edward’s dick after begging Miranda not to make him; he’d even managed to squeeze out a tear.

  Afterward, Nora let him take me away to clean me up. I was so overwhelmed that I could barely speak as he fixed my dress back in place and wiped away the wetness between my legs. Nora had kept my underwe
ar as a souvenir. Then Thomas procured us more champagne and led me out to a balcony. Beneath us, waves crashed against rocks and it reminded me of something, but at that moment I couldn’t quite remember what.

  Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say. I thought you said that I didn’t have to do anything.”

  He leaned against the railing and sipped his champagne. “You didn’t. You could have walked away at any time, but you didn’t. You did what she told you. You’re like me, naturally submissive.”

  “I don’t think I am.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever. But tell me something. Is what happened to you in there the worst that has ever happened to you?”

  I snorted and laughed. “Hell no. That was nothing.”

  He looked at me with a serious look on his face. “Exactly. Just don’t forget that we’re playing them, at the end of the day.” He clinked his glass against mine. “Cheers.”

  Chapter Thirty

  The next time Thomas asked, I said no. He looked disappointed but didn’t press the issue. He merely gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll try to imagine it’s your pretty pussy I’m licking tonight instead of that old hag’s,” he told me before he waltzed out my door dramatically. “Call me if you change your mind,” he called from down the hall before I had a chance to close the door.

  I turned around and jumped in fright as I came face to face with my roommate. Michael was…weird. He usually avoided all conversation with me unless it was to inform me of some infraction I’d committed, and he stared a lot. Not in lust or admiration, but more like he was looking down at me. He was a music major although I never heard him play an instrument. He liked to stay up late watching comedies and consequently his booming laughter could frequently intrude through the thin walls into my room at 3am.

  I wasn’t welcome to watch TV with him. He told me that the program’s he watched were intellectual, and I wouldn’t get the humor. I’d slunk off to my room after that and never dared attempt to bond with him in any manner again. He was large as well, and our apartment was small so anytime we were in the same space I felt claustrophobic.