Mercer: Prophets MC

by Laura Day

  “What am I going to do, Cal? This was the best paying job in the whole city, and I’m going to be fired. Or worse, they’re going to make me pay for those asshole’s bottles. You saw what he was doing!”

  Cal continued to hand me paper towels as I patted myself dry. A small cut from hitting the sharp edge of the glass table began to pool blood as he rummaged around for a bandaid. Daniel entered soon after, his face red and his veins bulging around his neck.

  “What the fuck, Kylie! This was an easy job. You get the VIP his bottles and you do what he asks. Any idiot could handle it!”

  “I’m so sorry, Daniel! It’s just that he scared me. He, uh—” I struggled to think of how to say that the basketball star was fingering me without my permission, “He startled me and my shoe caught on his when I stood. I didn’t mean to spill the bottles.”

  “It doesn’t fucking matter. You now owe us $4,200.”

  “What?” I asked deadpan, hoping that I'd misheard him in my nervousness.

  “It’s coming out of your paycheck.”

  “No, you can’t do this to me! It was an accident.”

  “Like I give a shit. You fucked up and now you have to pay. Got it?” Daniel began to walk away.

  I didn’t know what to do, so I grabbed his arm and fell to my knees. I was covered in champagne, my shirt clinging to my braless chest. My skirt hiked up right around my panties. But I didn’t care. He had to listen to me. “Please, Daniel. There has to be some other way.”

  He looked down at me, his face looking almost amused by the way I'd begged him. He nodded to me as he walked away, beckoning to follow him. I made it down to his office and took a seat at one of his desk chairs across from him. I waited in silence as he typed on his keyboard and then he turned his computer screen around to face me.

  He hit his space bar as a video screen came to action. It was a woman, naked from the waist down, her shirt rolled up and pushed down to her hips. A man was behind her, half hidden by her body as he rocked into her sex. Her white knuckles curled around the bathroom sink as she cried out a name I couldn’t quite make out.

  I watched it wordlessly, not knowing what to say or what should be said. I wanted Daniel to stop it. I wanted to keep watching. I'd never watched porn before. It just wasn’t my style. And while I was certainly no prude to this kind of stuff, I wasn’t going to pretend to be happy to be shown porn at my workplace. But there was a small part of me, the one that rested deep in my stomach, that caused my body to clench and my heart to race. My mouth went dry and my palms sweat as I watched the actress orgasm.

  After a few minutes, he pressed the spacebar again causing the video pause on the man with the wolf tattoo reaching down towards the woman’s face. Daniel stood up and opened a desk drawer as he addressed me, “If you want to pay me back for tonight’s fuck up, you have to do this.” He pointed at the motionless screen.

  I gulped, lowering my voice to a faint murmur, “That? What are you talking about?”

  “Porn, Kylie. You may not know this about me, though many of your coworkers already do, but I’m a pretty big producer here in Vegas. I'm looking for girls like you – good, wholesome, American girls with decent bodies – to perform in a couple of shows. I’ll pay you $500 per show.”

  “Will I have to be naked? Have sex?” I wasn’t that type of girl. I couldn’t be. This was way too much.

  A smile cracked on his face as he reached across the desk to hand me a contract. I look at the heavy paper with the dark black ink and the long lines. A feeling of dread and unease hit me like a ton of bricks. But there’s nothing else I could do. This was my only option. I scanned through the document one more time, making note of the words “star,” “sex,” and “nudity.”

  “It’s your only option, kid.” He said as he hands me a ballpoint pen.

  The area where my name should be was blank, but I took the pen Daniel was handing to me and quickly scribbled mine in the empty space.

  Chapter 2: The Steps to Take

  “432 Peach Street. 432 Peach Street. 432 Peach Street.” I repeated the address to Daniel’s studio over and over again in my head as I drove through the wide streets of the Las Vegas suburb. The sun’s rays were causing the street to blur like a mirage. But I was too focused on getting to the address on Daniel’s production company’s business card on time or earlier.

  It wasn’t that I was looking forward to this. In fact, I spent the night before wrestling with sleep as I imagined what my first porn shoot was going to be like. I imagined a burly man covered in curly chest hair barking orders at me as I lay on a dirty, stained mattress. Men in dank white tank tops watched with sweaty brows as my co-star, a guy with no face and a wolf tattoo, fucked me from behind until he was satisfied. When we finished, I laid there, just as used and as stained as the mattress.

  I pulled my rusted blue pickup truck in the driveway of a pretty indiscrete home. It was the last home in the Desert Flower subdivision, but nothing about it made it stand out. It was brick with siding, just like the others on the street. A white little fence wound around the property and a black and red mailbox stood guard near the street. You could picture mom and dad standing in the well-manicured lawn while the kids rode bikes up and down the white pavement driveway. Something about it eased my mind, letting me forget where I was and what I was about to be doing.

  I knocked on the door twice, unsure of how I needed to announce myself. I could see a team of people scurrying around with props and lights, but no one paid me attention. I rang the doorbell instead.

  A young girl covered from head to toe in tattoos and wearing nothing but a hunter-laced robe opened the door, exasperated. “Jesus, Barbie! Don’t let the cool air out. Get inside!” She grabbed my arm, forcing me from my place on the deck. “Are you the new intern?” She didn’t let me answer. “Daniel’s been waiting for you. You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. Don’t be surprised if you’re fired for that. He’s not one to play nice, even to college kids.”

  I looked around breathlessly. The whole house was buzzing with people coming and in and from the back lawn to the living room. Large black cameras were being mounted on body suits while a woman pushed a large cart of tiny bikinis passed us. I needed a moment to take it all in.

  “I’m – I’m not an intern…” I said as loudly as I could muster.

  “Over here is the bathroom, but it’s for talent only. You need to pee, you do it in the basement with the rest of the crew.”

  A man carrying a large sun reflector knocked into me, sending me tumbling towards the sofa. The woman stopped in her place and looked at me with pity, “Oh, honey, you’re not going to last long at all.”

  My patience had worn thin, “Good because I’m not an intern. My name is Kylie. I’m Daniel’s employee from the bar.”

  “You’re Kylie? The girl that’s in today’s shoot?” She looked at me suspiciously, as if she had let in an intruder. “Are you serious?”

  Daniel suddenly appeared as the woman narrowed her glare further. She was taking in my baggy black sweatpants with the UNLV logo on the sides and my oversized t-shirt with a picture of a video game character. “Lay off, Julie. This is Kylie, and she’s going to need to get to makeup.” He, too, looked at me, this time his face falling as he noticed my laid back attire. “She’s going to need a lot of help today.”

  Julie scoffed, crossing her colorfully painted arms in front of her chest and then walked off towards the hallway. I followed her, struggling to keep up with her fast steps. She led me to a brightly lit room where a woman dressed in all black texted on her phone. A cigarette in her hands accumulated ashes as it burned. “Elise, this is Kylie. Good luck with that.”

  Elise set down her phone and gave me a once over, as well. She smiled lightly as she walked towards me. “Don’t listen to Julie. She’s a bit of a bitch. You don’t need much at all. Unlike her, you’ve got natural beauty. Just a little bit of work will help spruce you up.” She sat me down at the chair in the center of t
he room and began brushing my face with a variety of wands and tools full of colored powders. The cigarette dangled from the side of her mouth, “First time?” It was so obvious, I didn’t have to answer. “Everyone’s nervous their first time. Even Julie. But you’re lucky. Wilder’s your co-star. Well, your lead really. After all, the movie’s called Wilder Girls for a reason. He’s a genius. He’ll walk you through everything. And I hear he ain’t half bad either. Most girls fake it, but he gets the real thing.”

  “The real thing?” I was sitting a bit taller now. This woman seemed to have seen it all.

  “You know, an orgasm. Most girls in this business get so immune to sex that they rarely make it there. They have to pull out all the stops. All those ‘ohhhs’ and ‘oh my god’... it’s just for show.” She laughed to herself as she mimicked the other actresses.

  As she finished, another woman walked in and handed her a white bikini on a hanger. She handed it to me and told me to get dressed. I looked for another room or an area to get changed in, but she stopped me as I tried to exit. “Oh, honey, you’re going to have to lose your clothing in front of a room full of guys. Get used to it.”

  I tentatively pulled down my pants and shimmied out of my top and bra. I'd spent all last night shaving and grooming myself for this, but I was still ashamed of my lanky body and the lack of curves. I took a look in the mirror. Elise had done an amazing job with the hair and the makeup, I looked completely different, yet still very much me. But the bikini was too revealing. It hugged too close to my skin and was way too tight for the top. But Elise gave me an approving smile and thumbs up as she pushed me out the room.

  Daniel was waiting for me in the living room, a clipboard in his hand. He took my bare shoulder and led me to the window, pointing out the cameras and the lights. He also handed me the script and told me to study it. I wasn’t expected to memorize it, but I should stay on topic.

  Today’s story was about a virgin and her very experienced neighbor. The girl seduces him while they lounge around in the family pool, hoping he’ll show her how it’s done. Daniel then pointed across the room where Julie was chatting with a shirtless man. I instantly recognized him. He’s the guy with the wolf head tattoo. He’s tall, almost impossibly so, with a tight stomach crisscrossed with lines from his defined and toned muscles.

  I struggled to make out the face under the brown, shaggy hair. The only thing I could see clearly was the piercing blue eyes. They were as bright as the sky on a clear day, and I wondered why I recognized the color as if that blue were a part of my history.

  Julie left him, squeezing him on one of his muscular biceps and then sauntered away. He turned to follow her movements, leaving me in full view of him. I saw his face, the broken nose, the sturdy jaw. Every bit of breath escaped me, fleeing this impossible situation. That man, the man that was my co-star, was none other than my stepbrother William.

  Chapter 3: In Recognition

  He walked towards me, obviously noticing my bewildered and upset stares. He wrinkled his darkened brow before inhaling. He was trying to compose himself, I guess. But still his voice boomed with those low undertones I hadn’t heard in years. He joyfully said to me, “Julie tells me you’re Kylie. I’m Wilder.

  Wilder, I thought. Why Wilder? Why not William or Wills. That’s what we used to call you.

  I was unable to talk. I couldn’t think of how to respond except to scream out that I knew that wasn’t his real name. But, then again, I remembered where I was. No one here was using a real name, at least that’s what I was assuming. I made a note to Daniel to come up with a fake name to cover my tracks, as well. It obviously worked for my stepbrother.

  He continued on, despite me standing completely still, staring into those eyes like a complete fool. “I thought I would introduce myself before we get started. I haven’t seen you around the business before.” Again, my mouth went dry and my brain lost the ability to connect with my vocal cords. Luckily, he didn’t walk away like I was completely mad. Instead, he took pity on me, “You look new at this. Is this your first shoot?”

  He was waiting on me to answer, but I couldn’t bring myself to say what I needed to say. I needed to at least tell him that I’m his stepsister, Kylie. I’m the girl he abandoned back in Sun Valley almost six years ago with the ruined stepfather and the impoverished mother. I’m the girl he left waiting and wanting in the shared bedroom after he promised to protect me. I was only fifteen then.

  But I held my tongue. He clearly didn’t recognize me at all. And what good would it do now? It wouldn’t get me out of my debts with Daniel or pay for my tuition bill. It would just mean more heartbreak for me.

  Plus, by the looks of the guy who had completely changed his body with his tattoos and sculpted physique, he didn’t want to be my Wills anymore. He wanted to be Wilder. The only thing I could really make out was that face and those eyes, the ones that sometimes stared at me from across the room as I pretended to sleep. He couldn’t hide those from me.

  My voice shook as it rose a pitch or two, “Yeah, this is my first one.” There. I did it. I said something to him. It was going to be hard to play ignorant, but it had to be done.

  He reached down and took my hand as I caught his eyes. He gave me almost a knowing smirk as he led me out towards the sliding glass door. “Just follow me. Do what I say. We’re going to have a good time.”

  He acted like he knew. He had done this before. I mean, I remember what Elise told me just minutes earlier about him being the best. I could tell looking at him that he could teach me the ropes. That video Daniel showed me was of him and he certainly knew how to treat that woman. Part of me was craving to feel what she felt, to have the cameras document it all as he led me into this whole other sinful world. But the little, nagging voice at the back of my head begged me to stop this. This wasn’t right. Even if we weren’t blood relations, we grew up together. We were brother and sister by all definitions. This was so wrong.

  I still let him take my hand, though. I let him show me how to jump in the pool and then walk out just right so the cameras could get a shot of my legs sparkling with beads of water and how the now-transparent suit clung to my breasts and pussy. As we went through each scene, he positioned me, he fed me lines, he taught me. I was his student, and he was my more-than-willing teacher.

  As the storyline progressed, I found a spot near the pool to lie down on my stomach. It was the perfect angle for me. I was concealed enough that I didn’t feel as vulnerable. I could play the sultry neighbor as I beckoned Wilder to join me, requesting he rub suntan lotion on my back.

  I handed him the prop bottle of oil as he smiled and gave me a wink, reading off one of his lines. “You want me to get every inch of you?”

  I nodded emphatically, concealing my eager smile into the red towel.

  He began rubbing the oil gently into my skin starting at my feet. His large hands and fingers making long, slow lines up and down my legs sent trembles through my body. As he moved upwards, his thumb would graze the fabric of my bikini bottom, sending me squirming in my chair. I could feel myself sink lower into his hand as if he were magically calling me to his will. He was tempting me, and I was gladly taking the bait.

  I was so distracted by him I didn’t even notice the cameraman laying beside me, getting angle shots of his hands kneading the glistening liquid into me as he talked about pressure points and what they could to your body if you hit each one precisely. Instead, I let out a soft sigh as his pointer finger dove deep against my folds through my wet swimsuit. He lingered there, pushing the fabric deeper into me as I bit my lip hard. It wasn’t time for me to scream out in pleasure just yet.

  Wilder moved on, this time following the trail of still water up my back. He asked me in his character’s voice if he could untie the straps holding the suit to my back so he could reach more spots. I pressed my body up so he could release the suit, the camera going wild around my tits as they hung pointed towards the ground. I smiled up at him as I lowered back down
, my hands now away from my side and instead nestling my head. This time, I was directing the scene, and I wanted him to feel more than just the fabric of my suit.

  His fingers circled my skin, running up the length of my spine and around my shoulders and creating figure eight patterns. I waited, knowing what was to come. But as his hands finally moved to the side of my torso, I still forced myself not to gasp in pleasure as he cupped my breasts, massaging at the nipple and gently pulling at them with a small pinch. I could feel him apply pressure up against my chest, silently telling me to turn over. I followed his cue, exposing myself for the first time to the crew.

  My hands wanted to dart him away. I was too exposed; this was too wrong. But he kept applying the lotion to my skin as he repeated the motion on my slender calves, thighs, arms, stomach, and then making his way up to my full breasts. He massaged my tits together and apart and then focused on the tips of my pink nipples. They gave me away, already standing tall like two tips of a mountain ready to be conquered. I watched as his head fell towards one of them, his mouth encircling it. I could feel his lips parting so the lens could catch him nipping at me. I jumped in my seat, pushing my chest closer towards his head. His mouth alternated between laps of a soft wet tongue and the tantalizing bite with his two front teeth.