Chapter 4
CONTENT WARNINGThis story contains scenes of extreme violence, crime, domination, and morally questionable situations. Not recommended for sensitive readers. If this kind of narrative isn’t for you, I suggest finding another read.
On the other Thursday, I was in my nightclub, up in the second-floor office. From there, through the bulletproof glass, I could see the whole main dance floor. On the wall to the right, monitors showed me every corner of the place — yeah, including the bathrooms. You never know when a coke deal or a quick fuck in a stall might turn into leverage.
We had our own whores, but every now and then some outsider would show up trying to make a buck off our turf, and that caused trouble. So we started letting them register and turned it to our advantage. They could choose: give us a cut, or pass on info. Mostly, they were just opportunists looking for a quick score. Some I even helped out, depending on the situation.
“Timothy, who’s that poorly dressed little slut over there?”
A girl stood out completely from the others. Baggy jeans, long shirt tied at the waist, hair looking like a chemical disaster. She had to be new. Pretty. Her body was average — not that whore vibe. But what really caught my eye was the fear. She huddled in a corner, like she was in the wrong place.
I like people who feel fear.
I can smell it from a mile away.
“Timothy, who’s that poorly dressed little slut over there?”
Timothy, who was always with me, looked around curiously, frowning before spotting the girl in the middle of the floor.
“Probably some staffer who wandered where she shouldn’t.”
I adjusted my glass on the table, swirling the ice between my fingers, eyes locked on her.
“If she is, chew out whoever let her hang with the whores. If she’s a whore, bring her up here. I want to hear her story up close.”
Timothy let out a short laugh, shaking his head.
“You gonna make her suck someone off? You’re obsessed with that shit!”
I tilted my chin toward him, impatient.
“Get moving, I’m curious as hell!”
I watched as Timothy hit the floor and all the bitches swarmed him — they knew him from around, knew he was one of the guys in charge. The little punk laughed at all of them, full of charm; he’d get a correction for that later. He talked to the girl, who immediately crossed her arms over her chest like she was covering everything up. Right away, I felt a wicked smile creep across my face — my victim was scared shitless.
Minutes later, the two of them were walking through my door. The sight of me must’ve been intimidating; my office was fancy, Big Brother style, dim lighting with spots focused on the person behind the desk, making them look larger than life — in this case, me! She came in shy and slow, looking around at everything with her beat-up little backpack that probably followed her through all of high school. On her feet, some old red Converse. She had a style, I admit — poor, but it was a style.
“Who are you, sweetheart?”
The question came slow, without lifting my head. Just watching her from the corner of my eye.
“Amanda.”
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Amanda your real name?”
“Yeah?”
I tilted my head, letting the silence hang heavy.
“You a whore, honey?”
She took a deep breath, hesitated.
“No… uh… Yeah.”
I raised my eyes slowly, locking onto hers.
“Are you a whore or not?”
She shrank back, fingers twisting in her shirt fabric.
“Yeah.”
“And since when does a whore use her real name?”
She didn’t answer. Timothy handed over a paper.
“Her info’s here, Boss. I checked. She’s legal.”
I took the paper without rushing.
“Eighteen… good…”
Her eyes darted around, like she was looking for an exit.
“You’re not a whore. But you want to be, right?”
Her chin trembled before she answered.
“Yeah.”
“You up for everything?”
The hesitation lasted longer this time.
“Yeah…”
I set the paper aside, crossed my legs.
“I could have Timothy fuck your ass right now?”
Her eyes went wide. Her mouth opened before the words came.
“Nooo! Please!”
“You never did it for money, huh, you idiot?”
She shook her head slowly, eyes glued to me.
“No…”
“You do women?”
She swallowed hard, hesitant.
“I can. Never have.”
“Take off your clothes. I want to see your body.”
She looked like she’d been shocked. Amanda froze, fingers trembling as they drummed on her jeans. Her chest rose and fell fast, breaths short.
Timothy was typing something on his phone quick. I grabbed mine, knowing the message was for me.
“Couch test? You sending this to Xvideos?”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to the scene.
The girl dropped her backpack on the floor, like it was a shield. She glanced at Timothy, like his presence bothered her.
“Babe, whores work naked and in front of men.”
She didn’t blink. Her chest heaved even faster, shoulders shaking.
“Come on, I don’t have all day. If you don’t want to, get out of my office.”
She seemed to agree, to my delight. She kicked off her sneakers into a corner, peeled off her socks patiently, then slid her elbows under her shirt and pulled it up slow. Her bra came into view — an old thing, worn lace, a rag. This girl was fucked up for real.
The jeans came off easy, pooling at her ankles. Then the last piece.
A little cartoon panties, colorful.
Pathetic.
“Babe, I go to meetings in panties and a bra on Monday mornings and still call that dressed.”
She swallowed hard, eyes lost, like she wanted to dig a hole in the floor and vanish.
“But I’m so embarrassed…”
The second I heard that, I had to drop my head to hold it together.
My whole body lit up. A hot rush of horniness, hard to explain, like someone slapped my pussy through my pants. A delicious burn, instant.
I stood, grabbed my glass, and downed a swig of whiskey. I needed the right words. I walked to her, invading her space, smelling her, her ragged breathing, and stopped right by her face. I wanted her to feel my demons touching her.
My voice came low.
“You fucking decide what you want from your life.”
A pause.
“NOW, GODDAMMIT!”
My yell cracked through the air like a whip.
She jumped, shoulders hunching, eyes flashing. For a second, I thought she’d cry, but fear held her back. Her hands went straight to her panties, fingers shaking so bad they slipped on the elastic.
She tried pulling from one side, then the other, but the fabric stuck to her thighs. She stumbled over her own feet, desperate to obey. Her face burned with shame, and when she finally got the panties down to her ankles and unhooked the bra, she stayed bent over, small, trying to hide even naked. She stood there, panting, like at any moment someone would end it and say it was just a test.
But it wasn’t.
Slowly, she started straightening up, but her arms automatically covered her tits. She squeezed her body tight, trying to disappear.
“Well, well… what a nice body we have here. How much you charging for the full service?”
I crossed my arms, letting my gaze roam over her. The body wasn’t spectacular, but it was young. Slim, with soft youthful curves, fresh caramel skin. Not bad.
“Five hundred bucks,” she answered with fake confidence.
I chuckled lightly, shaking my head.
“You ain’t worth five hundred, babe. Sorry, someone’s gotta tell you.”
I paused, thinking.
“Timothy, what’s she worth?”
He didn’t even need to think.
“From a hundred to a hundred and fifty, and that’s steep.”
“Thought the same. Ragged, knows nothing… But if she plays it smart, she can sell as a virgin. Then she could be worth a fortune.”
“Yeah. There’s that soccer player we know…”
I smiled.
“Thinking of him. That rich big-dick loser who’s worth shit!”
I got closer, running my hand over her bare shoulders. She flinched but didn’t pull away. I grabbed her hair, studying her trembling body. I pressed closer, letting her feel my skin on hers. My fingers slid slow, teasing, just enough to feel her shiver.
And then it happened.
She tilted her head slightly to the right, an involuntary surrender. Small, subtle. But I saw it.
I looked at Timothy, satisfied, and brought my mouth to her ear.
“I’ll pay your five hundred today, okay?”
I pressed closer, feeling her body heat against mine.
“Arch for mommy, arch up…”
She hesitated, but instinct won. Her ass lifted slow, shy, almost apologizing for being there. My chest tightened with lust. God, I needed a cock right then, but nothing would satisfy me more than watching this girl learn to be touched.
There was something about her that drove me insane. That inexperienced purity, the way her body gave away secrets her mouth couldn’t confess yet. She wasn’t shaved right — done in a rush, desperate not to embarrass herself probably. Little nicks in the groin, stubborn hairs near the folds. The smell was mixed — soap, intimate spray, but underneath, the raw scent of sex, strong, real.
I slid my fingers between her legs without rushing, without forcing. Just exploring, testing her limits.
Her first sound was a caught breath.
“That’s it, babe… Learn to moan for mommy…”
My fingers got wet. The slick shine spread between her thighs, a milky fluid dripping from her innocence. My heart pounded hard in my chest. Without thinking, I brought my finger to my mouth. The earthy, warm taste hit me like a fever.
It struck me like hunger.
Thirst.
Violent.
I buried my face between her legs, my tongue taking it all at once, from her throbbing pussy to her tight little asshole. She screamed.
“Ahhh!”
Her whole body spasmed, hands gripping the desk like she needed something solid to keep from falling into the void.
I licked again.
This time slow, spreading my hot tongue over her entrance. Her moan came dragged out, desperate.
“That’s it… moan for me, princess…”
My fingers dug into her ass cheeks, spreading her wider, letting my face fit perfect. Her taste flowed on my tongue, sweet and salty at once.
When I sucked her asshole for the first time, she arched all the way.
“Oh God… Ahhh…”
Her legs shook out of control, her fingers white from gripping the desk so hard.
“That’s it… Learn to grind right for mommy…”
I laughed against her skin, licking mercilessly, addicted to that taste. She wasn’t holding back anymore. Her body had learned. And now, it just wanted more.
I looked up and saw Timothy watching, pleased. I made a subtle gesture for him to come closer. He did, all goofy, like he’d gotten an unexpected gift.
Still on my knees, not letting go of the girl, I unzipped his pants with one hand. The smell of hot skin and desire hit me before I wrapped my lips around him. My mouth switched between them. My fingers still slid between the girl’s legs, feeling her pussy pulse, spreading her wetness, while my tongue explored Timothy, licking and sucking slow, feeling the texture, the difference in flavors.
Her taste was earthy, sweet, almost innocent. His, thick, salty, strong. The contrast drove me wild.
I went back to sucking the girl hungrily, while my hand stroked the base of Timothy’s cock, letting my tongue slide along his length. When she moaned louder, my mouth sucked him hard, like I wanted to hold them both at once, like I could devour them. With every switch, I felt their bodies react more. The moans, the shivers, the sweat. The room smelled like sex, surrender, the power I held over them.
I pulled Timothy by his cock, guiding him to the girl’s back while I took my place. He laughed that nice way, with that typical beach playboy smirk, always that mischievous glint in his eye. I pressed his cock against her, and instantly she tried to get up, a stupid reflex that just made me laugh.
“STAY STILL, FUCK! DON’T RUIN MY FUN, GODDAMMIT!” I let out, in a yell that even startled me.
Timothy laughed again, positioning himself calmly, finding the best angle. And she, who seconds ago seemed like she wanted to bolt, just accepted it. She turned her face, looking at him, and in that look was everything — but innocence. The way she bit her lip, the shine in her eyes, the pure slutty expression… holy shit, she wanted more than she let on.
“Go on, Timothy… Fuck her hard. Fuck her to hurt.”
He obeyed without hesitation. Started slow, opening her up, hands firm on her pale ass, feeling the hot skin under his fingers. Then he sped up, a rough back-and-forth, intense, taking over everything.
But I wasn’t happy with Timothy’s performance.
Timothy was panting, hands flat on my office desk, fingers digging into the solid wood top as he thrust deep into the girl under him. Sweat dripped down his ass, her moans mixing with the wet sounds of his thrusts, but he was still trying to pace himself. Still clinging to control that didn’t exist.
I stepped away for a second, walking to the corner cabinet, the one where I keep things a normal office shouldn’t have. Among file folders, bottles of top-shelf booze, and cigar boxes, my fingers found the leather handle. The riding crop. Small, quick, made for instant command.
What? Everyone’s got a crop in the office, right? How do you handle disobedient employees?
“You thought I’d forgotten, huh, Timothy?” my voice slid slow through the room, laced with malice.
He didn’t answer, but the way his muscles tensed said it all.
I circled the desk, dragging the crop’s tip across the floor. The sound of leather on tile echoed in the office, thick with tension.
“Too slow,” I said, boredom dripping from my voice.
He sped up, slamming his hips harder, each thrust pulling a choked sob from the girl. But it still wasn’t enough.
ZIP!
The crop cracked the air before hitting his skin. The sharp smack broke the silence, and Timothy choked on a moan, his back contracting in instant pain and excitement.
“I didn’t… I just…”
“Shut up,” I cut in, cold. “I want tears before apologies.”
ZAP!
Another hit, harder, his skin already hot and marked. His hands shook on the desk, hips pounding faster, more desperate, the girl under him moaning, screaming, nails digging into the wood, while he tried to make up for it, tried to please.
“That’s it… better… Fuck her faster, damn it,” I murmured, watching every muscle in his body pulse under my command. “Didn’t you want a whore to fuck? Weren’t you all smiles with the whores downstairs?”
Zip! Zaaaaaap! Ziiip! Zaaaaap!
The leather found its mark again and again, his skin throbbing red, but I didn’t stop. I saw it in his face, the way he moaned in pain and pleasure, giving in to my extremes.
I grabbed his face hard, forcing him to look at me. His eyes were wet, chin trembling, a man broken between pain and obedience.
“Come crying,” I ordered, merciless. “I want to hear you sob when you fill that pussy with cum. I want to see that tear roll as you say goodbye to whatever dignity you had left.”
Timothy moaned, a dragged-out, choked sound. His hips jerked in erratic, brutal thrusts, his whole body shaking. And then he broke, the last tear rolling hot and resigned, as his punishment ended.
“There, now go take care of that ass!” I said, twirling the crop in my fingers before tossing it on the desk. “And you, girl, fix me a whiskey and come suck me off — I’m stressed.”
Timothy was still shaking, body marked by the lashes, cock still pulsing as he caught his breath. But I didn’t care anymore. I’d had my fun with him.
I sank into the couch, sliding my panties off, feeling the sweat stuck to my skin. I spread my legs, seeking a bit of comfort while watching the girl walk away, thighs trembling, trails of Timothy’s cum dripping down her legs.
“Thought being a whore was easy? There’s a lot of crazies out there,” I thought, smirking to myself, while waiting for the bitch to come back and serve me.