Dirty Little Virgin: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

by Michelle Love

  I asked my father one time about love. A friend from school told me his mother and father are in love and they are married and live together. He told me he has brothers and sisters and a real family. Not like mine.

  When I asked my father about that, he said some like to live life that way, but he doesn’t. He has little time for relationships. His time is better spent on making him and other people money. And when he’s not doing that, he wants no fussing and fighting. He says those things come along with love and marriage.

  I suppose he’s right. I saw one of my teachers arguing with a man in the hallway once. When I asked her if she was okay because she was crying, she told me the man I saw her with was her husband and they’d had a disagreement.

  If a mere disagreement can make a person, who is in love, cry then I too want no part of that either. Just like my mother and father. I’ve never seen either of them cry and I also have never cried unless I was in physical pain.

  I did cry a little when my mother left me here with my father and a nanny. But she told me that I’d be fine and she’d see me when she could. I see her once a month. She comes to my father’s parties for the weekend at the end of every month and I see her some while she’s here. She was right, I was fine, eventually.

  I saw her dance one time at one of the first parties she came to. That’s when I found out what the job was she wanted to get back to. She is, what my father calls, an exotic dancer.

  At one of my father’s parties, I sat on the stairs, watching my mother dance and toss away her clothes, my nanny found me and scooped me up and took me back to my bedroom where she sat outside my door in a chair to make sure I stayed in my room. She told me I shouldn’t see my mother doing that.

  I asked her if what my mother was doing was considered wrong. She told me there is no wrong or right. But some things should go unseen by one’s children.

  With no wrong or right in this world, I suppose it is my destiny to follow in my parents’ footsteps. Love may be what some people fall into. I am not like those people. I am like the one’s I came from.

  My father told me I was not planned. He wasn’t sorry that I came along but he wasn’t happy with something called the condom that gave me to him and my mother.

  Apparently, this thing called a condom has the power to stop an egg from becoming a baby. The one he said he was using must have had a hole in it. He told me never to skimp on condoms and always make sure I had plenty of them when my time comes.

  I don’t know when or why my time will come to use condoms but I will remember my father’s advice on them. He must know what he’s talking about since he’s never had any other happy mishaps. My mother hasn’t either.

  Laughter fills the hallway outside my bedroom and I get off my bed and sneak to the door, pulling it open only a tiny crack to see who’s coming upstairs.

  My father has the same two women under each arm as he did when I saw him downstairs. They’re taking turns kissing his cheeks and he looks very happy and relaxed. Not the way he looked when he got home from work, earlier this evening.

  “Goodnight, Papa,” I call out as I open the door a bit more.

  All three of their heads turn my way. “Hey, cutie,” the woman with red hair says to me. “Aren’t those pajamas the cat’s meow?”

  My father jostles her a bit to get her to look at him. “No talking to the kid, Bonnie.” He looks at me and gives me a grin. “Goodnight, son. I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow. You get some rest now.”

  “You too, Papa,” I say and close my door.

  Going back to my bed, I have to admit my father looks way happier than my married teacher ever does. His way has to be the best way. He and my mother are happy people. I want to be happy too.

  My friend from school will most likely follow how his parents live and I find myself feeling sorry for him and how his life will certainly turn out.

  Poor kid…

  Chapter 2

  CYPRIAN

  The disco ball is reflecting purples and pinks as I walk down the spiral staircase to go to my graduation party. I’ve finally earned my Bachelor’s Degree in Investment. I still have to get my Master’s in Finance, I’m not quite ready to become the CEO of Papa’s company just yet. But I am working at Libertine Investments as an assistant to the CLO, Stan Franco. He oversees all the legal affairs of the company.

  At 16-years-old, I am the youngest person who works at my father’s company. No one treats me like a kid, though. Not when I can handle myself like an adult. And being the boss’ son doesn’t hurt either.

  As I hit the last step, I am met by a couple of beauties. “I’m Roxanna,” the brunette tells me. Her arm moves around my waist as she leans in and kisses my cheek, purposely rubbing her breast against my arm.

  “Hello, Roxanna,” I say and turn my head to catch her lips with mine. She tastes like rum and coke as our tongues move around together.

  A touch on my ass has me pulling away and looking at the skinny blonde who’s also waiting for my attention. “I’m Bambi. I work at your mother’s club in L.A.” Her breasts are nearly popping out of the tight dress she has on. The silver beads on it catch the strobe lights, just like the disco ball does, making her light up.

  “Nice to meet you, Bambi,” I say and take her waiting red lips and kiss her too.

  She’s a smoother kisser than the other woman. But the other woman has the curves I like.

  I guess I’ll have to keep them both for the night!

  The music goes down and I hear a clanking sound. Both women wrap themselves around me and I wrap my arms around them as my father calls everyone’s attention to him as he walks up on the stage.

  His temples are going gray in his otherwise dark hair, he’s growing older, a thing he reminds me of often as he seems to be hurrying me along to take over his position as CEO of Libertine Investments. He looks out at the crowd of people who’ve come to my party.

  None of my schoolmates were invited. I never made any friends while in college. I wasn’t there to make friendships, my father told me. School was work and not a place to fraternize.

  He took care of filling his parties with people. I found out almost every woman who comes to them are escorts, provided by several adult clubs around the nation. And at times, they come from around the world.

  My father calls himself a connoisseur of fine women. He likes to taste them all. And escorts are liberal with their bodies. The men who fill his parties are business associates. Some of whom I know are married men but they come to enjoy the buffet of beauties who don’t mind at all showing a man a good time.

  I find my father holding up my degree and a smile fills his face.

  “Tonight we’re here to celebrate my son, Cyprian Girard’s, achievement. He’s earned his Bachelor’s Degree in Investment. He has a Master’s Degree to get before he can take over my role at Libertine Investments but I have no doubt he’ll make quick work of that. The way he’s done with everything else, academically speaking. And sexually speaking as well! Am I right, ladies?”

  Cheers go up as women hoot and holler. I smile and wave then give them a bow. I am my father’s son, after all. I have learned from the most sexually advanced women on the planet, thanks to my father’s generosity when it comes to bringing in women for his parties.

  The two, who have claimed me for the night, hold tight to their prize and I have to smile as I find other women looking at me with lusty gazes and some flat-out show me parts of themselves to entice me.

  I found out, when I first started my sexual endeavors, when I was thirteen, not to go overboard with too many women at one time. My father caught up with me after an all-nighter with seven women. He told me, just like candy, whiskey, or food, you have to allow yourself to have only what you can handle. Moderation is what he taught me, in all things.

  So, now I limit my women to three, tops. I find a feisty woman, with pink hair, looking at me with a raw hunger I think this current threesome could use.

  My father goes on
as I wiggle my finger at the vixen who is salivating over me. She comes to me as my father continues his speech. “Cyprian is the only fruit to have fallen from these loins.” He gyrates his pelvis, making the women scream. “My happy mishap has made me very proud of him on this day, and all days, for that matter. So, please join me in letting him know he’s appreciated by us all.” More cheers ring out by all the attendees as the pink-haired girl drops to her knees in front of me.

  I look back and forth at the women on each side of me.

  “I’ll let you two decide. Can Pinky, here, join us this evening for some fun?”

  Roxanna asks the new woman, “Do you mind kissing another woman?”

  “Excellent question, Roxanna,” I say and give her cheek a quick peck.

  Pinky, as I’ve dubbed her, shakes her head. I look at Bambi. “Do you have any questions for her?”

  She looks Pinky over then asks, “Do you have any piercings that might add to the night’s activities?”

  Her mouth opens and I find a silver stud on the tip of her tongue. Bambi and Roxanna both gasp then Roxanna says, “We’d love to add her to tonight’s activities, Cyprian. Please add her in for our complete enjoyment.”

  “Seems, you’re in, Pinky,” I say as she gets up and runs her hands over my chest.

  “My name is Paula but Pinky will do,” she says then kisses me, using that little bead on her tongue to run over the roof of my mouth.

  I’m happy with the addition to the pack and find myself ready to dance a bit, drink a little, and then fornicate like animals for the rest of the night.

  Life is good…

  Chapter 3

  CYPRIAN

  It’s Friday and my nerves are frazzled as the board meeting has gone on longer than expected. “Iran is a no go,” I say as I slam my fist on top of the huge, dark oak table. “I will never budge on that! I am not my father. I will do no business with countries who are terroristic.”

  “But their money is as good as anyone’s, Cyprian,” the CFO, Bob Steward, argues.

  “Not to me, it’s not. Can we end this now?” I ask as I look wearily at the board. “I will not cave to you people. I am the CEO now. My father, Corbin Gerard, has entrusted this company to me and I have gone to school for a long time to get to where I am. I’ve studied the outcomes of such investments. Something like that, in a time of war, could end any political plans anyone of you may have.”

  “How are you so sure?” Claudette, an elderly board member, who’s been here forever and three days, asks as she looks at me as if I’m a stupid child.

  I turned twenty-six last week. I am far from a stupid child and have more education than any of these people have. I earned my Master a few years ago and am finally through with school and ready to move on to running the company my father started and has entrusted to me. But this, old as hell, board fights me on every last thing I want to change.

  Standing up and picking up my briefcase, I answer her, “Claudette, you may not have aspirations for political greatness but some in this room do. While I don’t care for politics, per say, I am a true American who has tremendous respect for those who have fought a war that’s gone on far too long. I will not make money for or take money from any enemy of the United States. That said, I will be ending this week’s meeting as it’s eight in the evening and my father is hosting a lovely party you are all invited to.”

  Claudette looks at me as I walk out of the board room. Her frown is evidence she’s unhappy with me cutting the meeting short, in her opinion. But I am the CEO and I can do such a thing.

  My body is weary from the many struggles I’ve gone through this week. It’s been past eleven each night before I’ve seen the comfort of my bed. I have worked so hard and the knowledge pretty girls are waiting in the ballroom at the mansion is just too enticing for me to stay and argue with the old battle-axe any longer.

  A chill runs through me as I hear the click of her one-inch heels as she comes up behind me.

  “Cyprian, this is not over.”

  “Oh, but it is, Claudette. How I wish you could join us over here in the real world. You are from an ancient way of thinking. One that’s dangerous now,” I let her know. “In this time of such upheaval, we need to form a solid stand to make sure we remain the country we’ve always been. Helping that Iranian company make more money is a crime, in my opinion. Let it go. Next week, I’ve got a fantastic company in Hawaii to look at. And we’ll all get to go to the resort owned by the huge company. It’ll be fun, relaxing, all expenses paid, you’ll love it. You should bring that granddaughter of yours along. What is her name again?”

  Suddenly, her icy demeanor changes. “Margie is a wonderful young woman. She’s your age and such a prize. The right kind of women to marry such an eligible bachelor as yourself. She’s well-educated and helps out at all of the church functions. She’s a great young woman!”

  I’m afraid she lost me at the word, marry.

  “Send her to the party tonight.”

  “Heaven’s no!” she says as she shakes her head. “Cyprian, she’s a nice young woman. But I could give you her phone number and you could take her on a nice date. A fancy restaurant, some wine, and good conversation. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

  It sounds like pure hell. “Maybe another time. I’m really wrung out from work this week. I need to relax and I’d make awful company for such a nice young woman. Another time perhaps.” I hurry to get on the elevator and find Claudette right at my side.

  She’s rubbing her palms together, quite obviously trying her best to come up with another wonderful date idea. “Our church is having a social after the morning services. You two could meet there. It would be fun. You’re such a patriot, aren’t you a God-fearing man as well?”

  “Church? I’ve never gone. We go to the track on Sundays. You know that,” I say and find myself relieved when the elevator doors open and I can finally get rid of the old woman.

  It’s my fault and I know it, that she’s hooked onto me, as I’ve made the mistake of asking about the woman I’ve seen in pictures around her home when I’ve been there on other occasions.

  “Which one will you be at this Sunday?” she asks and I see it all there in her beady little eyes. She’ll bring the good woman there and expect me to court her.

  “You know what,” I say as I act as if I just recalled something. “We aren’t going to the track at all. I’m going to my mother’s club in L.A. for a visit. I completely forgot. Some other time, Claudette.”

  My driver pulls the car to the curb and hops out to open the back door for me. My long black limousine is spacious, with a full bar, and lots of seating. Tons of room to have fun while getting to another place to have more fun.

  I find a flashy platinum blonde with her long legs stretched out, waiting inside of it for me. Claudette does too. “Who is this?” she asks.

  With a shrug of my shoulders, I ask, “What’s your name?”

  “Lola,” she answers. “Your father sent me to accompany you home after a hard week of work, Cyprian.”

  “How, lovely,” I say as I slip into the black-cherry leather seat. “See you next Friday, Claudette.” My driver closes the door as Lola finds a sweet spot on my neck to nibble as she rubs me in all the right places.

  I love my life…

  Chapter 4

  CYPRIAN

  “The walls in here are a decadent shade of yellow,” the real estate agent tells me as I follow her through the home on the estate I’m looking to buy.

  “I’ve never heard yellow called decadent before,” I say as I look at the walls I would describe as canary yellow. “Good try, though. I do like the ten bedrooms and the theater room that’s in the basement. I bet the sound would be amazing down there.”

  “I’m sure it is. Would you care for a demonstration, Mr. Girard?” she asks as she seems about to bend over backward to make this sale to me.

  Her commission will probably be more than most people make in a year. Time to haggle a bi
t, I think. “My father said I needed to get myself a home. It’s a good investment. I’m looking for a place that needs some help getting back up and going. I can use the repairs and reconstructions as write-offs. But I’ll pay no more than what I believe this place is worth right now.”

  “Understood. This is an excellent property for you, Mr. Girard,” the woman says as she points out how out of date the crown molding is. “All of this should be replaced.”

  As I look around at the massive home that sits on one hundred acres, I contemplate all the people I’d need to hire and the money I’d have to pay them to take care of the place. I’d also have to hire contractors to make the renovations. With the work it needs and the write-offs I can take, it seems like the perfect home for me.

  It sits just outside of Clemons, South Carolina. The office is only thirty minutes away on the other side of town. The drive out each night might be relaxing.

  I open the door off the kitchen and listen to the crickets chirp in the cool evening air. “Nice, peaceful, relaxing. This will be perfect for me.”

  “And all this room is great for a man who’s thinking about marriage and family soon,” she says as she looks past me, at the vast backyard.

  I laugh at her idea. “I’m not about to get married. Ever.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says as she looks down at the clipboard in her hand. “Your birthday shows me you’re 35. Surely, you want to settle down pretty soon. I mean, you can’t wait forever.”

  “I can and I will. I’m not the marrying type. I work hard. I have no time for the bickering that goes along with having a wife and kids. No, thank you!” I step outside and smell the fresh air and look up at the sky where stars are already beginning to show with no city lights around to hide them. “This is great. I’ll take it.”

  Her words of marriage and kids are put behind her as she sees dollar signs and hops up and down with excitement. “Fantastic!”