The Girlfriend Experience Ch. 14

Literotic asexstories – The Girlfriend Experience Ch. 14 by Jeremydcp,Jeremydcp
Chapter Fourteen

Sammy maneuvered Lindsay through the bedroom until the back of her knees touched the mattress before lifting and tossing her on it like a sack of potatoes. From where she now lay plastered, Lindsay looked up, shivers traversing her spine as Sammy removed his tie and loosened his collar. The eighteen-year-old hitched her breath, brought a hand to her chest, and measured her escalating heartbeat. Sammy was so handsome, and so experienced, his trimmed beard emphasizing his dark, demanding eyes, full of hunger, and undeniable purpose. The blue suit and classic cut Oxford shirt added to a timeless alpha appeal brimming with wisdom, assertiveness, and brash attitude.

Sammy borrowed a moment, appraising Lindsay as if she were a commodity to be auctioned off and sold to the highest bidder fortunate enough to procure her long-term services. “My Kayleigh. My submissive bed girl, my babygirl, my fuckdoll whenever I want.”

Lindsay saw it in her mind – memories from last week – Sammy’s hands seizing control of her hair, the bump and thrust and unbelievable friction of his cock moving inside her mouth. With her head tipped over the perimeter of the bed, she was helpless, pinned in place, his heavy balls swinging near her eyes as he fucked with ruthless aggression. Her hips squirmed with every plunge, and she was again reminded of his strength and her vulnerability. Oh, dear God; he’s going to totally slay me again tonight. The hand on Lindsay’s chest, without preamble, drifted toward her abdomen.

“You’re my little whore, aren’t you?” Sammy’s tone was soft but laced with the promise of consequences. “Such a marvelous toy. One thing both you and I know, Kayleigh, is that you need a bona fide fucking. You need it very, very badly. And tonight, I promise to give you what you need.”

“Yes, Sammy. Oh God, yes. I want you to fuck me.” Lindsay’s gaze didn’t waver from his face, either, as her hand finished its journey, her fingers raising the hem of her prom dress and finding the gusset of her G-string panties, applying pressure where she needed it most.

“So naughty,” Sammy said as Lindsay’s fingers busied themselves between her thighs. “You are such a nasty, horny slut, Kayleigh. So ready to be fucked.”

Lindsay’s mouth dropped open and her opposite hand came up on its own to cover it. A nasty, horny slut? Was she really this type of girl? Her brow crinkled. Did her parents raise her to lay beneath a man forty years her senior with her legs spread and pleasure herself in plain sight? Face it – you’re good for one thing, and one thing only, so you might as well get paid for it. Sammy would fuck her tonight, he’d possess her, and enjoy her on his own terms – for an exorbitant fee.

At what point did Lindsay veer from the proper path?

“Open your pussy lips, will you? Nice and wide. Yes, yes. Look at that pink, little pussy. You’re dripping wet already.”

Happy Ending Ranch had changed Lindsay. She had become suitable for sport fucking in a short amount of time but would be far more suitable with additional on-the-job training. Men like Sammy, Ryker, Darius, Tony, and all the others, for the most part, got their rocks off being with her.

God, this girl loved sex. Lindsay loved huge dicks and masculine hands. She loved wearing lingerie and men who would rip it off and chuck it across the room before bending her over the desk and sticking their cocks in her. Lindsay was accustomed to being ridden hard and allowed these mongers to control her body, to take ownership, so they could fuck as they pleased, fearful that if she didn’t satisfy them, she’d lose her job.

Out of the corner of her eye, because she couldn’t help but to look, Lindsay noticed it in the floor-to-ceiling mirror: her submissive posture and the contrast of her lacey black prom dress and Sammy’s business suit, the difference between a wealthy, dominant older man and a fresh-faced girl just removed from her high school graduation beneath him, on her back, ready to serve his wicked pleasures.

It was as if Sammy had cast some strange spell on her. What was his secret, anyway? This terrible need for degradation kept evolving, kept multiplying. The desire to allow random men – mongers, and women like Becky, too – to use her. What happened? You used to go to church twice a week with your family.

“Raise your knees and take them into your hands,” Ryker said to Lindsay this past Saturday morning, and like a dutiful service provider, she complied. “Very nice, sweetheart. Such a pretty cunt you have, a perfect cunt.” Ryker took hold of her hips, saying, “Keep those legs open,” and brought her toward him, to the edge of the bed, so he could immerse himself in her wetness.

“Hmm,” he said. “A tight cunt too. I wish I could trade my wife in for you and take you home. I’d love to parade you about, show you off to all my friends and make them jealous. Maybe share you with them too.” Ryker gripped her upper thighs and Lindsay cried out as he pounded away, slapping his pelvis against her prone ass so hard that the brass headboard bounced and crashed against the wall.

He fucked Lindsay for several minutes as her eyes alternated from his face to the spectacle of his cock claiming her pussy again and again.

“Oh, yes! Just like that. Fucking pussy is amazing! Fucking pussy is amazing! Only thing better than your pussy is your face!” The shame was exquisite – this total stranger, having sex with her in exchange for money, interested in her body, her physical charms, and absolutely nothing else.

Mom and Dad wouldn’t be proud.

Back in the present moment with Sammy, Lindsay’s face puckered, but soon her fingers slipped under the elastic and found the silken crease of her pussy, which she had given a fresh shave to Tuesday in compliance with Riley’s “recommendation.” Riley said I’ll make more money this way. Her pussy was soaked and ached already, and thus, Lindsay came to the realization that yes, indeed, she was definitely that kind of girl.

A nasty, horny slut.

Sammy’s blazer came off, followed by his dress shirt, revealing a hairy, muscular chest. Lindsay’s galaxy-blue eyes were staring up at him, as big as saucers, and Sammy sprung a grin. “You and I are a perfect match, Kay-Kay, a true connection. We’re gonna have lots of fun.”

When Sammy lowered himself over her, Lindsay pushed up and trailed her fingertips down his bare back, enjoying the texture of his weathered flesh.

“Ahh, that’s my sweet girl.” The two unrighteous lovers were moving together already, legs intertwined, foregoing the required negotiating process and getting right to the hot stuff. “Those tits feel so good in my hands.”

Lindsay was ready to throw caution to the wind and lose herself in this perfect moment. She kissed Sammy’s jawline and reveled in his well-groomed beard bristling against her cheek. Her legs coiled around his hips. Driven by need, she was amazed at how her body responded to Sammy, easily the sexiest man she had ever met. The big, bad wolf – the leader of the pack.

“You know what to call me, Kayleigh, honey,” he said in that same stern voice.

Lindsay gasped and hearkened back to their first date and all the ensuing e-mails they had shared since and whispered the one word he wanted to hear. “Daddy?”

“That’s right.” He moved his hand from her waist to between her thighs and she gave a cry at the sudden rush of stimulation. “How is this pussy doing?”

“Fine, Daddy.” Lindsay arched her torso, thrusting her pelvis against his hand, needing more. Sammy glared at the bare furrow of her sex, satisfaction in his gaze, and she tried to ride that hand. “Fuck, Daddy. Fuck!”

“Have you been keeping your cunt full in my absence? Earning lots of money like a true whore should?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Lindsay blushed a fiery red and hid her face in the sanctity of his beard. His presence alone wiped away any feelings of modesty, of independence, and of course defiance. “I’m ready to be a good girl and do what you tell me like we’ve discussed.” Break me, Daddy. I’m begging you. Break me.

“That pleases me and I’m glad to hear it.” Sammy fondled Lindsay as he spoke, and her hips jerked at the invasive rhythm of his fingers. “You’re gonna be a good girl tonight, my submissive bed girl, who belongs to me because I’m going to pay a ridiculous amount of money for you.” He took his hand away, but then brought it to her face with a pair of extended fingers. “Look, babygirl. Look how wet you are.”

Lindsay whimpered, but also remembered that if she didn’t follow protocol, Jim may start pounding on the door at any second or, even worse, burst through and put an end to their fun before it began.

“Open up, Kayleigh,” Sammy said, taking precedence over her fears. “Open up and taste yourself.”

Lindsay closed her eyes and took his mammoth fingers into her mouth because it would anger him if she didn’t. I don’t want to get spanked already. Or do I? The young prostitute suckled away, licking her juices as if his digits were ice cream cones. Sammy’s smile widened as his index and middle fingers moved in and out, using a similar cadence to how his cock would put her pussy through the wringer in due time.

“What are you looking for tonight, Daddy?” she asked. “What can I do to make you happy?” Since this was a brothel, any legitimate intimacy wasn’t supposed to start until they waded through the formalities of the bartering process and agreed on a price. I’m glad Colt isn’t here. He would already be in here and threatening to fire me since I gave Sammy a freebie. Afterward, Sammy would have to pay for any services before they were rendered. No matter how close they had gotten in recent times, the proper procedure still had to be followed. I’m also glad Jim is so chill and is allowing us to bend the rules a little.

Still, Lindsay wasn’t about to push her luck too far.

After the initial shock of finding Sammy in the parlor earlier, she spent thirty minutes reminiscing with him about their evening together from last week. Since Jim was also present, conversation was kept light and general.

Thus, Sammy didn’t dare call her “Lindsay” – her name was “Kayleigh” tonight. Being a turnout, Lindsay would lose her job if Colt caught wind of all the sensitive information she had given him. Real name, private e-mail, cell phone number, and her mailing address back in Citronelle. Plus, they had plans to meet up eleven days from now in Utah. There was no mention of that either.

Colt wouldn’t tolerate any employee going into business on her own, fearful the local authorities, particularly the Sulaco County sheriff, would find out and revoke his business license because of it.

“I know I promised to come back to the ranch and party with you again in September,” Sammy said to Lindsay as Jim tidied up behind the counter, “but I couldn’t wait. Last time was too much fun.” He winked an eye and grinned mischievously. “Rest assured, though, I still want to see you in September too.”

In the bedroom, Sammy’s hands slid up Lindsay’s legs and underneath the hem of her skirt, past her ass, and came to rest on her waist. He held on as she initiated another slow rhythm and ground her hips across his pelvis. The friction made him tighten his grip.

Please, please, please, get three or four hours with me, Daddy. Sammy showing up unannounced like this was a wonderful surprise and Lindsay wanted to enjoy herself without having to keep an eye on the clock. She dry-humped his dick through his slacks. He now had one hand on the waistband of her G-string and the other clutching a breast through the fabric of her dress.

“Tell you what, darlin’. Here’s what I want.” First, Sammy captured her mouth in a deep, soul-crushing kiss, reminding her that between the two of them, he would always be the one in charge. The fire in Lindsay’s loins burned hotter. Their tongues met in a frenzy. Sammy explored her teeth, the roof of her mouth, the hollow of her cheek. She again thrust her hips upward, wanting more, but he used both hands to keep her in place this time. “I’d like to purchase twenty-four hours with you.”

Her eyes bulged. What the …?

“A full day.” Sammy used his right hand to brush a lock of long hair away from her face. “I’m offering you eighteen thousand dollars if you’ll give me the honor of spending the next twenty-four hours with you, sweet Kayleigh.” The pulse point on her neck jumped, but Sammy was right there to kiss it and soothe the anxiety away. “From right now – six-thirty tonight until six-thirty tomorrow night, or whatever. Whenever we start – twenty-four hours.” Lindsay worked her tongue over concrete lips as he said, “I’ll pay for it in cash. You can do the math on your smartphone if you want, sweetheart, but that’s seven hundred and fifty dollars an hour, and I never pay more than six hundred here, at least for a one-on-one party.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I trust you.” Lindsay blinked several times to process the generous offer. Twenty-four hours? She was with Sammy for a measly three hours last week and still wasn’t convinced her body had recovered from the hardcore fucking he gave her. Sure, she had been passing lots of jokes the past couple of days about wearing him out, but how could she last twenty-four hours with a man this experienced? This skilled, this dominant? He’ll be fucking me nonstop!

“I’m offering you a higher hourly premium because at certain points, I’d like to invite other girls to join us and make it a threesome or a foursome. I’ll pay them separate rates. C’mon, say yes. It’ll be fun.” Lindsay enjoyed licking pussy and had yet to sample all the other whores throughout the house, but that would change tonight and tomorrow.

She would fuck every single one of them – while Sammy watched.

And join in, too, of course.

Twenty-four hours!

Lindsay wanted to rekindle their magic from a week ago, but what was too much? Was there a limit? Again, Pamela’s words of wisdom popped into her mind. Never agree to do anything with a client if it’s outside your comfort zone.

Another voice in Lindsay’s brain disagreed.

Think of the money you’ll make! More than that, she languished in bed every night hot, needy, and bothered, and when she fell asleep, often dreamed about Sammy. He’s here now and I’m back where I belong – with him. How could Lindsay allow this opportunity to slip away?

“We could spend two or three hours alone together, then invite Elisabeth in, and I’ll make an offer for her to join us for an hour. A short time later, after Elisabeth leaves, we’ll invite Mariko in, and she can party with us for an hour too.” Sammy backed away. “Doesn’t have to be any specific order. Sahara, Riley, Kenzie, Nicolette, we’ll cycle through them all.” Sammy’s chin tightened. “It’s too bad Pamela is out of town. I know you and her are close and I was looking forward to partying with her again too. Haven’t done so since Christmas.”

Aware from his ongoing correspondences with Lindsay that Pamela was injured, Sammy still expected her to be here, and his original plan was to offer Lindsay and Pamela $20,000 apiece for a twenty-four-hour threesome. As the part-owner, there was no way Pamela would turn down such a payday, bad back or not, and Lindsay, well, no way she would either. These were his two favorite girls in LPIN, bar none, and he considered Colt to be a lucky bastard to be married to such a fine woman.

But since Pamela wasn’t here, Sammy had some ideas that would make his party with Lindsay all the more memorable. Involving all the other girls, yes, but something far, far kinkier. With any luck, he’d be able to make it happen once Jim’s shift ended at nine o’clock and Mindy was running the house for the remainder of the evening. Sammy had struck a handful of hush-hush deals with Mindy in the past and didn’t anticipate any resistance.

$18,000 was a lot of money. In all honesty, Sammy believed he was owed a discount by asking for twenty-four hours. The max, he thought, should be $12,000. But since it was Lindsay, he didn’t mind. He wanted her to have the money. To him, Lindsay would deserve it, she’d earn it, especially after involving the other girls and pushing her limits into the stratosphere tonight and tomorrow.

“Babygirl, talk to me. Why are you crying?”

“That’s going to cost you a fortune.” Lindsay pressed a palm across her lips to help stifle her emotions. “Sammy, Daddy, I don’t … I don’t …” Want you to blow all your money on me. Lindsay wanted to get paid like any working girl, of course, but wasn’t greedy and uncaring like the overwhelming majority. I love you, Sammy! She didn’t want to create any sort of financial burden for him (or his family) either.

A lone tear streaked down her cheek, but she was quick to wipe it away. Beyond the money thing, I’m fine being with you for twenty-four hours. I’m a big girl and can handle it – I hope? – if you can. But she didn’t want to eradicate his savings. You’re a good man and I don’t want to cause you any trouble.

“Don’t worry about it.” Sammy understood the issue. Lindsay’s body twitched against his as if she were a toddler needing encouragement. “The money is a drop in the bucket to me, sweetheart.” Sammy had already told Lindsay multiple times that he was the CEO of Gradiph Pharmaceuticals and made over $37,000,000 last year alone, with a net worth four times that amount. He hadn’t worried about his finances in decades.

Was there another prostitute on the face of the planet who’d balk at accepting $18,000 like this? Scarlett would be falling over herself if she were here, Sammy thought, and already have him balls-deep in her mouth.

Without a condom.

Yet, Lindsay was worried about bleeding him dry. Indeed, this girl was rare. A genuine, kind, selfless whore. So extraordinary. Sammy needed to snatch Lindsay up and make her his private property before the industry warped and corrupted her like it had so many others.

His reason for showing up tonight was simple: Sammy couldn’t wait another eleven days to have sex with Lindsay again. No way, no how. He worked a half-day this morning and told his wife he had to travel to Chicago for a business meeting and wouldn’t be home until after midnight tomorrow evening. Sammy had no choice – he flat-out lied to Barbara this time, fearing she may obliterate him if she knew he planned on being at the brothel for twenty-four hours (thus, his insistence on paying with cash instead of credit). And though he wouldn’t get the threesome with Lindsay and Pamela he wanted, Sammy figured he’d wind up spending over $40,000 here anyway.

Aside from including all the other girls, Lindsay would deserve a generous tip, right?

“I’m going to take care of you and treat you the way you need to be treated, Kayleigh. Please, agree. Let me do this for you.” Sammy tried to hide a sly, wicked grin, but failed. He had visions of some introductory BDSM play and a host of spankings. She had begged for it in her e-mails, through texts, and tonight, tomorrow, she was going to get it. Daddy is finally home, Sammy said to himself, and he’s none too happy his little princess has been fucking the entire school, including the teachers and the janitor!

“I’ll have Jim or Mindy, or whomever, deliver us food from any restaurant in Flagstone you want whenever you’re hungry. Give me the word, darlin’, and it’s yours. I’ll pay for it.” Sammy kissed her harder this time – so hard that for a moment she struggled against the suddenness of it, and that gave him a jolt of arousal. “We’ll stop and take breaks whenever you want. We can get a full seven or eight hours of sleep too.” He kissed her again. “I want to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up in the morning to your sweet, sexy face.” Perhaps with his cum caked all over it too? “It would be a dream come true.” And then he’d fuck her again. Maybe with his dick plowing into her from behind. I love waking up whores by giving them a hard fucking.

Sammy brought Lindsay’s head to his shoulder and rubbed a palm along her back. “Accept my offer, honey. Don’t worry about the money. I can afford it.” He kissed the spot on her neck where Becky gave her the hickey earlier. “Please. I must be with you again.” And Sammy wanted this to be his longest, most epic party ever. Not only did he deserve it, but so did she. Sammy was pulling out all the stops and leaving no stone unturned.

Because the unthinkable had happened.

Sammy was a man in love. There was no reason to deny it now, but this was a different sensation than all the other times. Somehow, this girl had turned his universe upside-down.

“Okay.” Lindsay’s expression slowly transitioned from uncertainty to delight, and the heartfelt, dazzling smile she offered tugged at Sammy’s heartstrings. “Yeah, I’ll do it. For eighteen thousand dollars.”

At the mere mention of that figure, Lindsay gulped her throat again. On second thought, I don’t know if I can do this. But she trusted Sammy and had faith he’d take care of her like he promised. Besides, holy cow! I’ll net nine thousand for being with the man I dream about every night.

She inhaled a deep breath and gathered her emotions. Jim is listening with the surveillance system and I have a procedure to follow. She didn’t want him to become suspicious of the budding relationship they were fostering. “I’ll do the dick check now, Sammy, and we can go to the booking office afterward.”

“Okay.” Confused, Sammy glared at her. Dick check? Of all the things Lindsay could say, that was …

“Thank you for taking your dick out, Sammy. Now, let me check it with this flashlight.”

The only thing was, there was no flashlight, and Sammy’s penis was still in his dress slacks. But everything made sense once Lindsay pressed her lips to his and again found his tongue with her own. Jim was listening, and they had to make their transaction sound typical.

“Your dick is thicker than I remember, baby.” Lindsay offered Sammy the sweetest, most tender kiss he had ever received. It was like they were making love while kissing. Her body was pressed against his as she again wrapped her legs around his waist and rubbed her pussy across his pelvis. Every cell within Sammy’s body was alive and surging. He closed his eyes and took a moment to commit this feeling to memory, but soon his hands traveled down to her ass and squeezed.

With any luck, after tonight, that ass would belong to him too.

Lindsay used every ounce of willpower to push away. “Excellent, excellent. Your dick is clean, baby. That’s terrific. I can’t wait to have it inside me.” Sammy tried to kiss her again, but she placed a hand between them as a barrier and shook her head. “Let’s go to the office and arrange for payment with Jim, okay? Then you can take your shower and I’ll get my room ready so we can party for the next twenty-four hours.”

“Holy shit.” Some 2,500 miles away in the dining area of Groucho’s Goat Shack, a popular watering hole in Baltimore, Maryland, Colt held his smartphone before his eyes and reread the text message. “Jim says Mike Steele – Sammy – showed up and is booking an eighteen-thousand-dollar overnight party, a full twenty-four hours, with Kayleigh as we speak.”

Across the restaurant table, Pamela’s head jerked up. “Twenty-four hours? Wow. Lucky her.”

“Yeah, that’s what it says. This is … yeah, wow … this is unbelievable. And such great news.” Colt turned the mobile device toward Pamela and allowed her to see for herself. “I may be wrong, but I don’t believe Sammy has ever had an overnight at our house.”

Business at this Inner Harbor hot spot was hopping. It always was. The sound of wild times and blaring music was a hallmark of Groucho’s Goat Shack. Once upon a time, Colt and Pamela were frequent patrons here, at least on the rare occasions when they were home in Maryland, but those days were long gone. Things sure have changed as they’ve gotten older. Colt wasn’t comfortable amid a band of noisy, raucous college kids anymore or, more specifically, screaming drunks trying to take over the bar. Pamela had matured beyond this crowd as well, but still liked coming back once or twice a year.

“I think it’s safe to assume being with Lindsay last week had a profound effect on Sammy, huh? Wouldn’t you agree?” While she’d prefer to be downing a Zombie Monkey, her favorite beverage here, Pamela had to settle for bottled water and a vegan salad instead. She didn’t want to risk mixing alcohol with all the various medications she was on. “I recall Sammy talking about having a future overnight with Lindsay. He was aiming for September.” Her head twitched. “And afterward, you told me, Sammy couldn’t stop talking about how incredible Lindsay was.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Colt’s chair scuffed the floor as he moved closer to the table. “It was like he was an obsessed virgin or something. Very uncharacteristic of him.” Sammy has always used the term “sport fucking” to discuss brothels and the women who work at them. Juvenile and crass, no doubt, and disrespectful, but Colt still preferred that mindset over a misguided virgin like, say, Charlie Winters, who had fallen in love with Pamela and had plans to visit her again later in the year.

Damn you, Charlie, you fucking asshole.

Stay away from my wife!

Of course, Pamela shouldn’t have been out and about at all tonight. She needed to be home in bed, resting, per the orders of Dr. Middleton and Dr. Pietz. But Pamela was stubborn, willful and headstrong, and despite a debilitating spinal injury that made it difficult to walk, her dogged insistence to defy medical advice was resolute. “No, I won’t stay home tonight, Colt, and you can’t make me. With or without you, I’m going to Groucho’s.”

An argument ensued with Colt as the voice of reason, but as usual, Pamela won in the end. Colt couldn’t allow her to go to a bar, alone, in the shape she was in.

Perhaps Pamela was more obstinate than stubborn, Colt thought, as she now flat-out refused to acknowledge anything was wrong with her back. Was this Pamela’s way of dealing with the reality that her career as a courtesan could be over? Or could it be denial? Colt understood that she feared change, something new, a different career and lifestyle, but sensed she’d be forced into it and would have to accept it.

She may have no other choice.

Pamela was driven with an intense work ethic, always wanting to be the best, and had an ironclad will. Yet with that came her worst flaw, at least in Colt’s eyes: she was fiercely independent and the idea of appearing weak to others, even to him, mortified her.

She is the most stubborn person I’ve ever known.

On the previous topic, if Colt didn’t know any better, he would assume Sammy loved Lindsay too. I’ve never seen him so amped up over a working girl like he was that night a week ago. That had to be an anomaly, right? A cosmic blip in the universe that would never happen again? Sammy was known as “The Whore Whisperer” throughout the industry, having partied with over a thousand girls, and (to Colt’s knowledge, at least) never allowed emotion to enter the mix. That mentality kept him grounded.

“Sport fucking” … I wish Sammy would retire that term. Why did he constantly throw it around? Working girls are human beings, too, not big game you hunt and bag. Besides, society shit on them enough as it was. Meh, Sammy doesn’t respect anyone in our business.

Nor does he care about anyone either.

“What are you doing?”

Colt’s sights were locked on his phone. “Typing a message out to Jim. Want a little more detail about what’s going on with Kayleigh and Sammy. Hopefully, he doesn’t have any tricks up his sleeve.” Kayleigh is young and naïve, and Sammy can manipulate with the best of ’em.

Pamela crossed her arms. “Jesus Christ, Colt. Can’t you ever call her Lindsay?” Pamela shifted in her seat and expelled a sudden, pained hiss. “We’re light years away from Flagstone, you know, yet you still insist on calling her Kayleigh.” Rocking back and forth to steady her discomfort, she wagged her head. “You do realize Lindsay hates that name, right? She despises it with a passion.”

“Kayleigh – the name – is for her own safety and protection.” The cords in Colt’s neck were rigid and stood at attention. I wish you wouldn’t go around the house and refer to all the girls by their real names. Pamela didn’t do it all the time, but it happened more often than Colt preferred, and it was never a smart idea. Lindsay this, Amy that, Cierra this, and so on.

Granted, she only did it when no customers were around. Still, though. …

“You don’t have any concerns with my safety and protection, huh?” Pamela’s eyes were icy cold and shooting daggers as she grimaced and arched her back. “You’ve been calling me Pamela for the past nine or ten years in the house and Pamela is my real name.” When she started at the ranch in 2006, Pamela’s working name was Dakota. Colt’s father, William, helped her pick it out. “What makes me so damn special? Doesn’t make any sense.”

Colt’s hands clenched into fists and he ground his teeth, blocking himself from saying something he may regret. What the fuck? I call you Pamela at work because you insist I do. She hated the name “Dakota” back in the day, too, and demanded he not use it anymore once William passed away. Wanting to keep the peace, Colt had agreed to call her “Pamela” ever since.

Against my better judgment.

But in her version of the story, Pamela always told anyone who asked – like Lindsay did last week – that Colt was the one who insisted on using her real name. No way, uh-uh, wrong. If he had his way, Colt would still be calling her “Dakota” whenever they were at work.

He witnessed several employees wreck each other’s lives with real names and personal information in the past. Just destroy them. Following a nasty disagreement, all it took was one phone call as an act of revenge on the other, and suddenly mom and dad knew what their little princess did for a living. Or maybe a boyfriend. Heck, one girl told an adolescent daughter, in detail, the disgraceful things her mother did to pay the bills. Sophia left the house in a wild, crying fit, and I never seen or heard from her again.

William fired Ginger because of it too. She destroyed poor Sophia.

Yet Pamela believed it was okay for everyone to use real names and share intimate details. Make it public amongst all the employees. Happy Ending Ranch wasn’t a coffee shop or a corner, mom-and-pop bakery. We’re a fucking brothel. Discretion and anonymity were supposed to be of the utmost importance.

Even amongst its workers.

Colt squinted at Pamela. What would you do if Aaliyah, for example, got into contact with your folks and told them what it is you really do in Nevada?

His lips twisted to one side. Man, I bet Dad rolls over in his grave every time you or one of the others calls each other by your real name. Colt feared William would beat the daylights out of him if he were still alive for allowing it to happen, especially since Pamela was his wife. Dad always stressed how important keeping a low profile was.

Figuring this wasn’t something to lose his cool over – I’ll never get Pamela to agree with me on this topic, anyway, not in a million years – Colt purified his emotions with an audible intake of breath. She isn’t feeling well and there’s no need to start another argument.

Settle down, buddy, and let it go. Let it go. …

His attention shifted back to his smartphone and the message to Jim. Though in Maryland, Colt had kept his finger on the pulse of the brothel. It’s our livelihood, the way we earn our money. He had been sharing texts with Jim since first arriving on the East Coast and would no doubt burn up Mindy’s phone when Jim’s shift ended in a few hours and she was the one in charge. Colt wanted to know every detail of what was happening.

“Eighteen thousand dollars, huh? Sammy has never been afraid to part with his money.” Over their squabble as well, Pamela spoke in a gentle tone before closing her eyes for several seconds. “God, I wish I was with them.”

“What?” Colt stopped composing the message and flinched as if a gunshot had gone off.

With a smile, Pamela’s eyes grew insightful. “I know Sammy wanted a threesome with me and Lindsay and would’ve doubled his eighteen thousand dollar offer, at least.”

“Wow.” Colt glared at her without blinking. “Marriage doesn’t mean much these days, does it?”

“Huh? What?” The infinitesimal twitch on Pamela’s lips told him that his biting remark had struck a nerve. “Colt, what the hell?” Her long, manicured nails cut into the palms of her hands. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

When the smooth, pert ovals of Lindsay’s naked backside wiggled and sashayed their way down the corridor, even Jim, on the other end, found his dick hard.

“Hmmmmm.” Wearing a bathrobe, Sammy’s white hair was still wet from the trucker’s shower as he reached out and clasped hands with his purchased girlfriend. Again, his eyes scoured Lindsay from head to toe. Angelic golden hair in a loose ponytail cascading down her back; a button of a nose, slightly turned up; demure, small breasts that Sammy would tend to, so very soon.

After making their transaction official at the booking office, he instructed Lindsay to strip naked and wait in the parlor with Jim as he showered. Her slender, young body, ready to submit to his indecent delights, was flawless, and far better than he had remembered.

“Let’s go back to my bedroom and start.”

“Yes. Let’s.”

“Did you have to work today?” All smiles, Lindsay held Sammy’s hand and led the way.

“Yeah, I did, but took off at eleven to drive here and see you. It’s been a rough go of it as of late because I’ve had meetings all damn week.” Sammy’s stoic, handsome features strained. “Yeah, talking with people that I guess you have to, but you don’t want to, so …” Lindsay nodded in understanding as Sammy said, “The thought of seeing you again is what got me through this morning, though, because I had one meeting, in particular, it was …” His words trailed off.

“Shit?”

Sammy’s lips kicked up. “Yeah, sounds right, but yeah. Tonight and tomorrow are all about Kayleigh. I’ve never looked forward to being with a working girl more than I am right now with you.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” With those words, Lindsay scolded herself inwardly. That’s a typical brothel line and one Scarlett taught me to use when tricks say something thoughtful. Why did she say it to Sammy? He is anything but typical and I want everything between us to be real, spontaneous, fun, and honest.

Having been around the block a time or two, Sammy shot Lindsay a venomous look. Indeed, it was a standard, rehearsed comeback throughout all the houses. And more often than not, incredibly fake. Almost every girl used it. He was willing to give Lindsay a pass this time, expecting more, but never wanted to hear that phrase – used in that context – again.

Once they reached the door, Lindsay glanced toward Jim, still on the opposite end with his trusty stopwatch. She lifted her hand in a wave, shuffled into the room with Sammy, and closed the door.

And thus, the twenty-four-hour countdown began.

“Jesus Christ.” Jim’s pupils were dilated as he stood rooted in place. “I gotta get a crack at that girl too.”

“How long did it take you to drive here?”

“Five-and-a-half hours.” Sammy rolled his shoulders to ease the tension after such an extended car ride. “I took Interstate 80 over to West Wendover, cut down 93 and had a break in Ely, and rolled into Flagstone at four-thirty.” Sammy brushed his lips along Lindsay’s earlobe and added, “That’s the way you should drive to Salt Lake in two weeks, babygirl. It’s the quickest route. A little desolate and lonely to start, but it’ll be okay.”

She pulled back and nodded. I’ll do that. The surveillance microphones were sensitive, but they couldn’t pick up barely audible whispers. Thus, Sammy felt secure saying those final words into her ear. In other, more upscale houses whispers could be heard, but Colt and Pamela didn’t have the financial resources to install dozens of casino-grade microphones throughout the property. They were $1,000 apiece, at minimum, so cheaper versions were here instead and couldn’t capture every word.

The overwhelming majority of their clientele had no idea Big Brother was always listening, so the lesser microphones were generally good enough to get the job done. It was only seasoned whoremongers such as Sammy who whispered and sometimes came up with creative ideas on how to express themselves when they didn’t want management to know what was truly going on.

“I got into town earlier and went straight to the house, but Jim said you were busy and wouldn’t be available until six o’clock. That was four-thirty.” He gave her a playful nudge. “Partying without me, my princess?”

“Yeah, I was.” Lindsay tugged at her hair and sniffled. “With another woman.”

“Really?” Sammy’s eyebrows shot upward as he took a seat at the foot of the bed. “A lesbian, perhaps? How did that go? Did you enjoy yourself? I bet you did. I know you did.” He again palmed her breasts as if he owned her. “Was she pretty? What did she look like? Tell me everything.”

“Very pretty and very nice, but she wasn’t a lesbian.” Lindsay’s knees were wobbly and she found it difficult to stay upright. How am I going to last twenty-four hours with this beast? “She was with her husband and he partied for two hours next door with Kenzie.” Sammy spun Lindsay around in a whirlwind and massaged her bare ass with both hands as she continued talking. “They’re the married couple I told you about the other day, remember? You know, the ones who were here Monday night and got a foursome with me and Kenzie?” Hmm, that feels so good. I love your hands groping me. “They came back today for some one-on-ones.” You have such sexy hands.

It wasn’t against house rules to exchange e-mail with mongers as long as it was through the website and Lindsay didn’t care if Jim was aware she had shared some of her brothel experiences with Sammy, provided she didn’t go into specific details about the clients themselves.

Indeed, discretion was paramount in this business.

“And the husband didn’t book a party with you?” For the life of him, Sammy couldn’t understand why there wasn’t a line of guys outside the door waiting for an opportunity to have sex with Lindsay. As word of her spread, perhaps one day, there would be. He craved this girl like no one he ever had. She was an aphrodisiac, spectacular in every regard, an addictive drug, and there was no cure.

Nor did he want a cure.

Lindsay emitted an anguished breath and turned back to face him. “I’m not sure Nick likes me. He much prefers Kenzie.”

“What? How the hell could anyone not like you?” There was a feral flash of teeth. “What is he? Blind?” Sammy wondered how any man could choose Kenzie over Lindsay. Kenzie was a mighty fine piece of pussy, Sammy thought, but Lindsay resided in a galaxy all her own.

Not even Pamela approached it.

“I don’t know.” She chewed the inside of her cheek, glanced down, and fidgeted her thumbs near her waistline.

“Look at me, young lady.”

But Lindsay didn’t want to.

What was with the dejected frown? Sammy was perplexed. Was Lindsay upset that the john didn’t want to be with her? If so, it wouldn’t surprise him one bit. He had received several emotional e-mails from Lindsay over the past nine days – she tended to be up and down like crazy, usually without reason – and Scarlett told him she was a drama queen around the house. Typical for her age, right? Lindsay caused all sorts of trouble, Scarlett claimed, and was the reason Aaliyah quit and accepted a job at Chastity’s Ranch in Bull’s Branch, Nevada.

Sammy had been with Aaliyah a few times and considered her a decent fuck, a B-minus at best, but certainly not worth $3,000 an hour. He felt sympathy for out-of-town Las Vegas tourists who journeyed to Chastity’s Ranch, believing there was no other legal alternative, unaware that Flagstone was a mere two-and-a-half-hour drive from The Strip and the prices were $500 to $800 an hour. Happy Ending Ranch wasn’t near as nice – there was no comparison, structurally speaking, between the houses themselves – but the girls were far more attractive, in his opinion, than they were at Chastity’s.

Much friendlier and open-minded too. That was perhaps Sammy’s highest compliment for Colt and the way he ran his brothel: he only hired the most sociable, outgoing girls, and demanded they sit and talk with clients before and after parties for thirty to sixty minutes, if not longer. The most conversation time Sammy ever had at Chastity’s was twelve minutes before the chick wanted to know if he was interested in a party. He passed, she became offended, and vanished into thin air. Sammy had bailed on their outrageous prices too many times to count and refused to go there at all anymore.

Jeff Robbins, the hiring manager at Chastity’s, sent an e-mail to Sammy on Happy Ending Ranch’s website in response to his praise about Lindsay and asked countless questions about her. Jeff was a vulture, a slimy snake in the grass, and was looking to snatch Lindsay away. While she was too young to work at Chastity’s – the minimum age for a licensed courtesan in Nye County was twenty-one – they could send her to one of their sister brothels near Reno where the asking price was $1,000 to $1,500 an hour until she was old enough to work at Chastity’s.

Sammy told the guy that Lindsay was Colt’s niece, of all things, and there was no way she’d ever think of leaving Happy Ending Ranch because of it. Sammy suggested he drop the idea. Lindsay was docile and sweet, so humble and innocent, and Sammy feared she’d get eaten alive elsewhere. Her personality wouldn’t mesh and she’d be one of those girls who would run away in tears, shattered, after a week or two. The other prostitutes would use her, take advantage of her kindness, and knife her in the back when she was least expecting it.

Sammy couldn’t allow that to happen.

Of course, Mr. Robbins didn’t care that Lindsay and Colt were “family.” He didn’t give a flying fuck. All he saw was dollar signs because Lindsay was the new it girl on the scene, and all the owners were taking notice. This industry was cutthroat – it was always poaching season.

Even if she somehow survived working at Chastity’s Ranch, or The Sinner’s Paradise in Chimayo, Sammy figured Lindsay would be damaged goods within six months from the mental side of things and never recover. His prime example for that was Nicolette. She started out at Chastity’s almost ten years ago, at twenty, vibrant and full of spunk, and today Sammy rated her as a D-minus.

And that was being generous.

“Daddy told you to look at him.”

Haltingly, Lindsay raised her head and met his gaze. Daddy? The stern tenor of his voice sunk in and enveloped every submissive fiber of her being.

“Are you okay? Talk to me.” Lindsay had an insatiable craving of her own – for dick – and tended to pout like a conceited, entitled brat when customers passed her over in lineups. Scarlett told him that too. “Were you upset the guy didn’t want to party with you? The husband?”

“No, not that. Not that at all.” Lindsay was worried about Becky and her marriage with Nick. She wished that Kenzie hadn’t told her they were having problems at home. “I don’t … I can’t … I can’t discuss it.” I’ll be in trouble if I start sharing details about clients and their personal lives.

I can’t risk losing my job, even for Sammy.

“Okay, fine.” He and Lindsay would have to tread on eggshells until he talked to Mindy and took care of their surveillance issue. If nothing else, those damn microphones needed to be disabled.

He placed a hand on Lindsay’s thigh and kneaded it. “Tell me about your party with the wife.” His words were gentle, respectful, but still a command. Not a request. “What did you do with her?”

Lindsay trembled and a little noise came from within her throat. She wanted to climb into Sammy’s lap, wrap her arms around him, and never let go. His smoldering gaze, voice, mannerisms, and everything else about him called out to her in a way that made her terribly, shamefully warm between her thighs. She wanted to be a good girl but realized Sammy identified her as a bad girl, and bad girls had bad things happen to them.

Head down, sweetheart. Raise that ass. Spread your legs. That’s not sufficient enough. Wider. Do you want me to snatch the cane? Wider, dammit. Let Daddy get a long look at you before you take your spanking.

Every nerve in her body sparked with awareness.

“I … I …” Agitated, Lindsay wrung her hands out. “I … gave Becky a lap dance right here, in this chair, and we … we … later moved to the bed.” Why am I so frightened? Was it because she already knew what Sammy would do to her? They had discussed BDSM and the concept of Daddy Dom/little girl play at length in their messages. I’m interested, sure, but I have no real experience with BDSM. Is he going to hurt me?

Do I really want him to … break me?

“Becky and I kissed and made out for a long time, talked, and took turns eating each other out. Near the end, we … we scissored each other for a few minutes … and had orgasms two minutes before our time was up.” Dear God, I so want Sammy to fuck me.

Beneath his bathrobe, Sammy’s dick was straining so hard that it was painful. Still, he had to control himself. Pace himself, keep his composure. There was no way he’d last twenty-four hours if he ceded to his desires and blew his wad, all his energy, at once.

Though, he badly wanted to.

Sammy studied Lindsay. Silently. Assessed her. They were as different as two people could be. Lindsay had her whole life ahead of her while Sammy was a grandfather of seven and closing in on his much-deserved retirement. He had a granddaughter older than her, dammit. Sammy once asked Lindsay who her favorite musicians were, yet he hadn’t heard of any of them. Likewise, she had no clue who Queen, Frank Sinatra, Christopher Cross, and The Police were. Not at her age.

Yet, none of that mattered. After he made the decision to drop everything and drive off to Flagstone following the latest X-rated dream he had overnight, Sammy had been imagining a life with Lindsay as a permanent fixture in it.

As his wife.

Things had gotten stale with Barbara and Sammy believed he should spend his final days happy and full of joy. It had taken him forever, but he realized that now. It hit him this morning – he’d like nothing more than to divorce Barbara and put a ring on Lindsay’s finger.

And a baby in her tummy.

Those thoughts were such a drastic change from a day or two ago, but Sammy was convinced, and there was no turning back. He reevaluated his life from top to bottom during the long drive from Utah. There was no reason to put up with Barbara’s bullshit and apathy any longer. She was pulling him down and causing him to feel bitter too.

In the end, there was only one solution.

Sammy wanted to whisk Lindsay away from the brothel, the industry itself – forever – and fly off to some tropical location and spend an entire month there. Why not a year? Hawaii, Anguilla, The Maldives, anyplace where he could see her in a bikini all day and fuck the holy hell out of her all night.

Sammy would gauge Lindsay’s interest over the coming weeks and months about something long-term, something permanent. If they were on the same page, he’d start the divorce process and go from there.

But Sammy couldn’t rush in full-bore. He needed to be smart about this. Smarter than he had ever been about anything. Sure, his kids would be upset, and the grandchildren confused, too, but he was ready for it. A small price to pay if Lindsay would make a commitment. Barbara would receive a massive chunk of change in a settlement, of course, and the kids would get their share of the inheritance, too, but he would leave whatever was left to Lindsay.

She’d be set up for life.

And Sammy would be okay if that was her primary motivation for agreeing to the commitment. A marriage, hopefully. Why have Lindsay on the side when he could have her in his life and on her knees, ready to serve full-time? The arrangement, to him, made perfect sense.

Aside from offering cash or gift cards, there was one surefire way straight to a whore’s heart.

“I have some presents for you.” Having purchased them at a little clothing store across town while Lindsay was with Becky, Sammy reached into a backpack and pulled out a gold-colored shopping bag.

It was time to set his grand plan into motion.

“Presents? For me?” Just like that, Lindsay’s mood changed. She had a sweet, curious smile, licked her lips, and turned to the side while eyeing the bag. “What’s in there? I want to know.” Her face sparkled.

Sammy pulled out the top layer of crinkly gift paper, retrieved a lacey, floral-print bra and a matching G-string, and presented them to her. “Give me a fashion show? I want you to have these too. Keep them.”

“Oh my gosh. Yes, thank you. And I’ll be happy to give you a fashion show. It’ll be my pleasure. This is so nice. It’s pretty. Thank you again.” Lindsay glanced at the lingerie set for several seconds, her eyes beaming, took a seat in the recliner, and began removing Pamela’s high heels. “Sooooo, how long have you been the CEO of the company you work for to be able to come here and spend so much money on me if I may ask?”

“Four years.” Sammy leaned back and steepled his fingers together in front of him. “Was an upper executive for twenty-four years, held various management positions for seven, and been with the company for thirty-nine overall. Gradiph has been good to me and my family.” He had four more years to go, too, before taking an early retirement at sixty-two. With any luck, Lindsay would travel the world with him.

“Thirty-nine years? That’s more than twice as long as I’ve been alive.” Lindsay swept her hair back over her shoulder with one hand, stood up, and fiddled with the black panties. She stepped into the garment and pulled it up and into place along her hips.

“You and that sexy, little body of yours will make more money one day than I could ever dream of.”

Lindsay broke out into a melodious, joyful laugh. A sweet laugh that personified her to a T. “I don’t know about that.” I’m not a supermodel! She slipped the bra around her torso and hooked it at her stomach. “Is black your favorite color?”

“Hmmmmm, hard to say.” Sammy’s voice was deep, assertive, and intimidating. “I don’t believe in favorite colors, per se.”

“Okay.” Lindsay pulled the bra upward and covered her breasts with it.

“I think certain colors go on certain things.”

“I agree. Depends on the mood too.” The bra was in its proper position with the straps around her shoulders.

“Correct.” Sammy’s wet his lips and his eyes flashed. “Wow, nice. Let me see your ass.” Lindsay turned, giggled as she flaunted her backside, and faced him again. “It looks like the fit is right on point.”

“Yeah, I like it.” She cupped her breasts. “The lace is nice and push-up bras are always a plus!”

“I like to look at you in it.”

“Yeah? Anything …” She turned and sauntered over to the small coffee table. “… you’d like me to do?”

“Hmmmmm.” He tilted his head and grinned. “Can you do splits?”

“Splits?”

“Yeah, like a cheerleader.”

“Umm, yeah. I mean, I haven’t done any cheerleading since the winter, but I should be able to.” Lindsay gave a single-shouldered shrug. “I can at least try.” She traipsed to the center of the room and took a quick, shallow breath.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Lindsay giggled as he said, “I won’t be held responsible if you do.” She easily assumed the position and did a full-on straddle split upon the floor. “Oh, wow. Impressive.” This meant she was flexible, so Sammy could bend and contort her into all sorts of unique positions.

“I was worried if I could still do that.” Still giggling, Lindsay hopped up and returned to her feet.

“Well, I’m glad you did.” Sammy sifted through the gift bag and retrieved a one-piece lace teddy and offered it to her. “Why don’t you strip for me, slowly, and try this on?” She nodded and slipped out of her bra. “I love your voice. It’s very soft and sexy, gentle.”

“I like for things to be calm. I’ve always been a problem solver.” Soon, the panties were gone as well. “Raising your voice in anger never solves anything. I’ve always been a firm believer in that.”

“So true.” Sammy’s eyes were laser-focused as he gave her the teddy and she began to change into it. “What’s your favorite color, honey?”

“Pink.”

The same as her pussy. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s a girly color and I like to think I’m pretty girly.” Again, an adorable laugh. “I like this teddy. It’s so cute. Red is a lit color too.”

“You’re a lot more relaxed and at ease than you were nine days ago.”

“It was my first night on the job and I was so naïve. I was like a deer caught in the headlights.”

“I don’t believe that.”

She chuckled and modeled the outfit. “I was! I was also told you prefer the new girls and that is why you wanted to be with me.”

“Really?” He didn’t prefer anyone more than Lindsay. “That’s the reputation I have and I’m not afraid to admit it.” Truth be told, if Sammy came across an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old working girl, he’d fuck her. Never did he give them any consideration – he’d just do it. Most were still vulnerable and raw, and it was good to get in early. “But I enjoy older ladies, too, such as Mariko. I don’t discriminate. Known her for seventeen years and counting.”

“You like all the girls.” Smiling, Lindsay took a seat on the coffee table and crossed her legs.

“Why don’t you pose for me?”

She inclined her head. “Wanna see my butt first?”

“I want to see what you want to show me.”

“Okay.” Lindsay slid from the table, turned, and dropped down to all fours to again flash her ass.

He didn’t say anything in response this time, so Lindsay reached back with one hand and fondled her backside and jiggled it about. “I’m a pro at twerking.” She got into a seated position, spun to face him, and fiddled with the lace between her thighs. A glimpse of her pussy followed, but she was quick to hide it.

“Maybe I shouldn’t take her out yet. She’s always looking to bust out and be free.”

Sammy exhaled a harsh breath and Lindsay snickered. She peeled the lace away from her breasts and flashed them too. “I can tell you’re dominant.”

“Depends on my mood.”

“Okay! Makes sense, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded.

“You want to be told what to do tonight and tomorrow? You want a guiding hand? A firm hand?” As Sammy kept talking, she nodded in long, contemplative lines. “I think you need to be told what to do. You’re a newbie in this industry and you still don’t have a damn clue what’s going on. So, I’ll take the reins. Does that make you feel more secure?”

“Yeah.” Lindsay gave a red-faced grin. “Makes me feel a lot better, actually.” She wanted Sammy to seize control so she could please him properly. If you have to punish me – hurt me – then do it. She blew out a breath. By Saturday morning, Lindsay feared she would be a patient at William Morris Stewart Medical Center in Valley City because of Sammy. Maybe on life support!

“You’re sweating, darlin’.”

“I’m a little nervous.”

“You have nothing to be nervous about.”

“I know.” I love you, Sammy, and want you to use me. “You’re a nice guy.”

“Sometimes I am.”

“I hope you are.”

“Think my dick is hard yet?”

Lindsay’s eyes radiated with curiosity. “Is it hard yet? Are you asking me?”

“I’m asking what you think.”

“Umm, I hope it is.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Do your clients usually get hard for you quick?”

“Umm, I don’t know. I’m still a turnout, remember?”

“You’ve fucked your fair share of clients already.”

“I have.”

“Were their dicks hard or did you have to make them hard?”

“Usually, they come out hard.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t surprise me. Something about you makes all the dicks hard. What do you think that is?”

“Umm, maybe how innocent I am? But in reality, I’m … not … at the same time? Guys get off on that.”

“You’re a sweet girl.” Sammy would bet his entire fortune Lindsay was the “class slut” in high school and every guy, including the teachers, busted their nuts at night fantasizing about her. Hell, he busted his own nuts fantasizing about her. “Would you like to suck my dick?”

Her voice a sudden, forced whisper, she said, “I’d love to suck your dick.”

Sammy grinned. “You’d love to suck my dick?”

“Yeah.”

“Kayleigh, babygirl, I want you between my legs sucking my dick.” Sammy loosened his bathrobe and again settled on the edge of the bed. “Park your little ass on the floor. Come on, no hesitation. Do as I tell you. Otherwise, you’ll go over my knee for a spanking instead. And then you’ll suck my dick anyway.”

“Yes sir.”

Sammy hummed as Lindsay settled between his widespread legs. Her expression was full of wanton delight as she searched for his dick and found it.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

“Oh my gosh,” Lindsay erupted, her eyes blinking. Look at the size of that thing! Her voice turned serious. “How is your wife not interested in having sex with you anymore? Good God, your dick is gorgeous.”

“Uhh …” Tongue-twisted, Sammy gulped his throat.

Lindsay was already giving him a handjob. “I’d suck on this thing day and night if I was her. There would be times you couldn’t pry my lips away from it.” She retrieved a condom from the nearby supply box. Hunger took over as she put it on the end of his dick, opened her mouth, and rolled the sleeve into place with her lips as he slid over her tongue and into her mouth.

For a beat, Sammy hid his face because he was full of mad rage. Damn the law! He hated having to wear a condom during oral sex and saw no point in it. If it was legal to go down on a prostitute without a dental dam, why couldn’t they suck him bareback too?

“I want your mouth.” Sammy regained control of his emotions yet still had wildfire surging throughout his body. “Show Daddy what you’ve been doing, babygirl, since he has been away on business for over a week. You’ve been sucking all this dick behind Daddy’s back. Oh my God.”

Heat sizzled as Lindsay slicked her tongue along the length of his erection. Bent over and now on her knees, she had a firm grip as her mouth descended and swallowed half its girth. Lindsay’s head bobbed up and down as Sammy’s fingers fluttered against her shoulder.

“Yes, babygirl. Go, go, go, go. Good girl. Fuck, that feels so fucking good.”

Lindsay pulled back with a smile, but kept her fingers wound tight around his cock. “Does your wife ever get down on her knees like this for you?”

“She … not anymore.”

Maybe you need a new wife?

Without hesitation, Lindsay engulfed him again and leapt into action without the benefit of her hands. Growls emanated from deep within her throat as Sammy gathered his composure.

“Put that fucking dick right on your tongue. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Feels good. Aww, there you go, there you go. That’s a good girl. A good fuckin’ girl.” It never took Sammy long to slide into his dominant, take-charge mindset, especially when a young, irresistible doll such as Lindsay was servicing him. It was as easy as flipping a switch. “Grab my cock! Suck it, yeah. Suck it.” Sammy leaned over and smacked the side of her hip with an open palm. “Yeah, take it! Keep taking it! Oh, we’re just gettin’ started. I’m gonna wear you out, babygirl.”

“You taste so delicious.”

“Oh, do I?” Sammy let loose with a chuckle as Lindsay slid her lips and tongue along his testicles. “Put my dick back in your mouth where it belongs, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck your face the same way I did last time.” The same way she’d repeatedly begged him in e-mail to.

Within seconds, Sammy’s cock clashed with the back of Lindsay’s throat and she coughed several times. She reactively put her hands on his thighs and tried to push away, but Sammy was having none of that. He gripped her hair and said, “No, you’re taking it.”

He pulled her head back and allowed a moment for her to gather herself, anyway, and shoved back into her mouth. Lindsay’s lips were stretched thin, her eyes broadcasting surprise, as her tongue danced around his length. I could suck this cock until the end of eternity! She inhaled quick breaths through her nostrils as Sammy drilled away.

It was a brutal face-fucking and uncomfortable, but Lindsay didn’t care. She was far more concerned with taking care of Sammy and making sure he received maximum enjoyment. I’m a little more prepared for you than I was last time, you know, with all the added experience I have.

Both hands grasped her hair as he pumped away like a turbine engine. Lindsay’s eyes watered and the hinge of her jaw ached. She did her best to hold still and give him full authority over both the intensity and depth of his thrusts. He rammed her throat without remorse. Lindsay gagged and wretched, but Sammy didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop, nor would he relent.

“I own your mouth, slut. Hell, I’m going to own every inch of you by the time things are all said and done. Fuck! You turn me on so much.”

Without a warning, Sammy stood and pulled Lindsay’s head from his cock, bent over, and got in her face. “Stick your hand between your legs and underneath that lace. I want you to come while I’m fucking that whore mouth.”

“Yes sir.” Lindsay reached down and found her damp, swollen clitoris, and let out a gasp at the self-induced pleasure.

“There you go, rubbing that little pussy again. Oh, you do this day and night. Don’t you, babygirl? You lay in this bed and play with yourself as you fantasize about my cock being inside you. Daddy’s cock fucking you like only it can. Am I right? Battering your cervix, my balls bouncing off your ass, my hands spanking you at the same time? You want bruises on your ass, don’t you, so you won’t be able to sit down for three whole days? You want to give yourself to me, don’t you? For me to make you my personal, little slut? My fucktoy? Come on, party whore. Say it. I want to hear you say it!”

“Yes, Daddy! Yes!” Lindsay cried out as she throbbed with need – her nipples, her pussy, the pit of her stomach – every millimeter of her being. The fuck with Jim and whatever he thinks of our discussion! “I want to be your slave! I want to …”

Her words were cut off as Sammy forced his cock back into her mouth. Tears saturated Lindsay’s face from the savagery of it all, and her pussy ached for more as she continued to finger away. She rolled and undulated her hips and drifted off into another plateau, another dimension, where the only things that mattered were her body, Sammy’s body, and what she could do to satisfy him because that alone gave her a feeling of happiness like nothing she had ever experienced before.

Subspace.

“Aww, fuuuuuck. Yeah, keep taking it down your throat, babygirl. Oh God. Your mouth was made for sucking dick. My dick, right?” Sammy had visions of giving her a face-fucking during their wedding ceremony, right in the holy cathedral itself, with her entire family watching. “Yeah, yeah, right there. Open your fucking eyes and keep them trained on me. Yeah, do what I tell you. Fuck your fuckin’ pretty, little face! Deep in your throat … choke on it, you dirty cunt!”

Sammy’s gaze blazed a trail to her soul. He twined her hair around his left hand and yanked hard while his right ventured lower and grabbed her still-covered breast. It was all Lindsay needed. She screamed around his cock as an orgasm ripped through her body. Pleasure unlike anything she had ever known overwhelmed and annihilated her like an incoming tsunami and, much like the last time they were together, Lindsay squirted. Her back arched and the juicy goodness spewed across the floor. Sammy took immediate notice and revealed a salacious grin.

In the aftermath, his cock still hard and raging, Sammy dropped to one knee and lifted her chin until they made eye contact. He wasn’t worried about getting off yet. He had twenty-four hours for that and, at his age, needed to conserve himself.

Lindsay’s head dropped when he let go. She gasped for oxygen and tried to make sense of what had happened. Her hands were shaking too. Soon, Lindsay looked back up and smiled at the tenderness etched across Sammy’s face. No more aggression or roughhousing, Sammy was clearly concerned and wanted to be sure she was okay. Such a contrast to how he was a moment ago.

“Why not go over to the sink and fix yourself up? Take your time. Your mascara needs touching up and I don’t want you wrecked and messed up right off the bat.” Besides, it was time for Sammy to inquire about another girl joining them for an hour. “Freshen up, babygirl, make yourself look presentable.”

Lindsay wheezed and let out an embarrassing hiccup. “Yes sir.”

In the future, perhaps, Lindsay may look back on her life and feel mortified she had once taken up prostitution, but as for now, with parties and men like this, she was having too much fun.

“You know, I’m not gonna say our marriage has been perfect because it hasn’t, and any working lady who claims `oh, my marriage is good, my husband doesn’t care at all’ … it’s not true.” At home and in their living room in Fairfax, Pamela had claimed the rocking chair while Colt lounged on the sofa. “They’re gonna care at times and things need to be discussed, but what’s always worked for us, Colt, is complete, transparent honesty, exactly how you’re feeling, exactly what’s goin’ on, you know, and apparently, I haven’t been getting that from you lately.”

Colt scrubbed a hand across his face. “Again, I’m sorry about what I said earlier at Groucho’s.” Guilt strained the chambers of his heart. “It was uncalled for.”

“Damn right it was.” With both arms laced across her chest, Pamela was cold and disoriented, her poor spine stiff as a ramrod. How could Colt question her loyalty? “You and I don’t have what people would think of as, oh, how do I say it, a normal relationship. We’ve been married for ten years and I’ve had sex, slept with, three thousand guys, and four or five hundred girls. And for a lot of, umm, I don’t want to say civilians, but civilian people, they’re like `oh, that’s kind of crazy.'” Pamela took in a staggered breath. “But you’ve always told me, `you know, if this is what you want to do, I support you. It might be hard, but as long as you’re happy, I support you.'”

“I still support you.” Colt’s expression fell into disrepair. “I always have, always will.”

“Then what are you jealous of?” Instead of beating around the bush, Pamela decided to come right out and say it. Get it out into the open because a short while ago over dinner, Colt admitted he was starting to feel uncomfortable when she was servicing her clients. “I don’t understand why you’re jealous or have any reservations at all. You, of all people, Mr. Brothel Owner. You know you’re the only man for me. I. Love. You! Nothing is going to change that. I’ve always been loyal to you, honest with you. My clients, they’re just clients. That’s it. Nothing more.”

Colt’s chin scraped his chest. “I don’t know.”

She gave him a deadpan stare.

“I can’t keep going on like this.”

“Like what?”

“Don’t you see? I’m getting older and, I don’t know, my priorities are changing.” His stomach hardening, Colt grabbed his hair with both hands and grunted. Did this signify the start of a midlife crisis? “I’m not the same guy I was fifteen, twenty years ago.” Meeting and marrying his soulmate had changed him too. “I’ve lived this lifestyle for so damn long – the brothel life – and, I don’t know, I think I may be done with it.”

William got Colt involved in the business from the day he turned eighteen and spoke at length of how he wanted him to make it his life’s work. Hell, Colt lost his virginity on his eighteenth birthday in a three-on-one gangbang in what was now Kenzie’s bedroom. William instructed Corinna, Kerri, and Tiffany to fuck Colt, to tag-team him, for an entire afternoon. His father said it was “time to become a man” and what better way to do it than in a foursome?

For Colt, it wasn’t a treasured memory. Losing his virginity to three women who didn’t want to be with him – they didn’t receive a dime for their efforts – while his dad was down the hall, tending bar. William, in fact, forced the trio into it, threatening their jobs if they refused.

Colt regretted that, even berated himself over it.

During his high school days, most of the “normal” girls wanted nothing to do with him because his father ran the brothel. Or their parents forbid them from talking to him. Colt had a crush on Mandy Jackson, he recalled, and she liked him, too, but her father promised to ruin Colt’s life, even murder him, if he continued to date her. He also threatened to send his daughter off to boarding school in order to split her and Colt apart.

“I never wanted this, Pamela. Sure, when I was younger, it was unreal to be the house manager and have the pick of the litter. For a while, I was the King of the Mountain.” Around age twenty-five, Colt was at his wildest, his most out-of-control. “Any working girl I wanted in those days, all I had to do was snap my fingers and they’d come running.” William would fire anyone who said no. It was an unwritten rule in some brothels – the owner, management, certain staff would receive sexual favors. “There are so many skeletons in my closet and I’m not proud of them. My past disgusts me.”

Thank God I never coerced or bullied you into having sex with me. His shoulders fell into a bowed heap. Pamela was always “different” in his eyes – the gold standard Colt could never tarnish. I told Dad to stay the fuck away from you, too, that you were off-limits. While William was belligerent and controlling as a parent, he adhered, never once laying a finger on Pamela.

“When I was growing up, I had visions of moving to California one day and getting a job on the beach. Something like, I don’t know, managing a marina, maybe.” Hurt fogged his eyes. “Leaving Nevada behind – the Godforsaken heat and barren desert – and starting my own life, carving my own path. But Dad … Dad wouldn’t let me. Said I had to stay and work at the brothel if I wanted any help with college tuition.” At age eighteen, nineteen, what was Colt supposed to tell him?

No?

“He was dead-set on me working at the house, taking it over for him one day, and staying until the day I retired. Or die. Come October, he’ll be gone for ten years. Ten long years.” A thousand ants seemed to crawl over Colt’s skin. “And yet, here I am, still doing what the bully wants.”

Pamela was white as a ghost. “What does that have to do with now? With us?”

“I’m tired of this life!” Colt fists drew up like angry stones, but he was quick to corral his temper. “Not of you, of course, but this job, what we do. It … I’ve … I’ve grown out of it. I want … I want …” To stay here in Maryland, never go back to Flagstone, and start a family with you. Colt yearned to have kids and right the wrongs from his own childhood. He wanted Pamela to finish her graduate degree, find work at a medical facility, and become a Nurse Practitioner. She’d be great at it.

Me? I’ll figure something out. Colt held degrees in Business Administration and Finance, and the idea of searching for a new job didn’t intimidate him. Or he could start a new business. A G-rated one, of course.

Most of all, I want Pamela for myself.

They had been down this road before. “The brothel is our life, Colt. How we make our income and what provides us a comfortable lifestyle. It’s how we met too. We can’t walk out the door on a whim and leave it all behind.” What about Jim? What would he do? Francisco? Mindy? Jenn? Pamela grimaced. Jim had worked at the house since 1983 and, if she and Colt abandoned ship, they could potentially ruin his life. Jim would be out of a job.

As would the others.

“What about Cousin Jeremy from Vegas? He wants to buy the brothel.” Jeremy McCarron, a business magnate, investor, and entrepreneur with a net worth of US$19.6 billion, would tear the house down, attempt to purchase any adjacent properties, and build an all-exclusive, high-end sex resort that would put all the other brothels in the state, including Chastity’s Ranch, to shame. Technically, Colt and Jeremy were first cousins once removed. “Jeremy gave us a generous offer two years ago – triple what the house is worth – and said it will always be on the table. In fact, the last time I spoke with him, in May, he offered more.”

“Selling a brothel and transferring its ownership license is a long, tedious process,” Pamela reminded him. “You experienced that firsthand when William passed away and left it to you in his will, remember? Lots of red tape. It’s not something where you can sign a piece of paper and be done with it. The city, the county, the sheriff’s office, everyone gets involved. It takes months and there is no guarantee the sale and transfer of ownership will be approved.” Pamela didn’t want Jeremy to take over the brothel anyway. He would make too many sweeping changes, including letting all the current staff go. She couldn’t let that happen.

“I know you like working there, sweetheart. You’re close with several of the girls – Scarlett, Nicolette, Kenzie, and especially Kayleigh.” Colt plucked at the collar of his shirt. “I don’t want to take that away from you.”

Speaking of veering from the proper path in life, were things supposed to turn out the way they did for Pamela? Was she destined to meet and fall in love, and marry a guy like Colt? Pamela was the quintessential “bad girl” growing up in school, promiscuous and always getting into trouble. For starters, she couldn’t keep her clothes on. That proved to be a major problem. All the guys were after her and she wasn’t picky in who she was with.

Her grades weren’t the best, either, and she was at constant odds with her parents. Pamela was webcamming on her eighteenth birthday, doing full nude sex shows for money, and working at a brothel six months later.

Oh, and dancing at a strip club (and turning illegal tricks) in between too.

Without Colt, Pamela could envision herself being in Scarlett’s shoes: wild and reckless to a fault and, though she was engaged to be married, not in love with the guy. Scarlett was only marrying Jason because he was due a hefty trust fund settlement soon – she had confided this in Pamela – and wanted to sink her greedy mitts into it. Scarlett was callous, selfish, and egotistical.

Like Pamela considered herself in her younger days.

Indeed, she thought, that could’ve been her if things turned out differently. Perhaps Pamela would have an abusive boyfriend or husband like Kenzie once did? Or someone who questioned her every move like Elisabeth’s husband? Robert tried keeping her on a leash, yet Elisabeth rebelled, and it was obvious their marriage was bound for ruins. Or a boyfriend, husband, whatever, whom she did not love. At all. Someone she wanted to control and extract every penny out of like Scarlett did to Jason.

What type of life was that to strive for?

Not with Colt around, though. He had always protected Pamela from the “dark side” and had her best interests in mind. Let her do her own thing and never asked any questions. Did she have a sudden inkling to go to bed, have an all-nighter, with Nicolette? Sahara and Riley? Lindsay? How many times did Pamela pass on an evening with Colt to have raunchy, hardcore sex with a client, a total stranger? Not once did he have a problem with it, as far as she knew, at least, insisting she do what made her happy.

Working made her happy.

“Do you know what one of my favorite things about you is, Colt?” Pamela angled her body toward him, her tone whispery soft. “It’s something minor, a little gesture you do. Every time I have a party, a GFE with a random monger and it ends, I say goodbye and he leaves, you always pull me into your arms afterward for a long, warm embrace.” Pamela tipped her head high. “Every single time, right away, without fail. You ask how I’m doing, if I’m okay, if I need anything, and if I want time off. I’ve always thought that is so sweet of you, so thoughtful.”

It’s been tearing me to pieces here as of late listening to your parties and hearing what these disrespectful fuckers say to you and the things they ask for. But that was no different than five, ten, twelve years ago, right? Mongers never changed. Was owning a brothel and having his wife as its featured attraction a “phase” for Colt? A cycle in his life which he had outgrown?

Had Charlie Winters and Lindsay Anastacio been the tipping point? If not, what pushed him over the edge? Dammit, Pamela, I just want you for myself.

What made this situation more perplexing was, with all the people she’d had sex with, Colt never once had the notion Pamela was “cheating” on him. She is just doing her job, making money. To him, Pamela was a faithful wife, and yes, a loyal wife, too, and he didn’t question her sincerity toward him. That had never been an issue. But the damn, fucking brothel – working at it – added complex wrinkles to their marriage that no couple should ever have to deal with.

I wish we’d never go back.

“When I’m with you, Colt, I can wind down, relax, and it’s so good to be with a man … not just for sex. At the end of the day, it’s like we come home to each other, in a way, and having sex with someone in real life and having sex with someone at the house is so different.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “It’s just, the connection is different, the feeling is different, it’s such a more real, intimate experience and …”

“Well,” Colt interjected, “you’re not putting on a show.”

“There’s no show.” Her voice hitched with emotion. “I don’t have to wear my makeup, I don’t have to dress in racy lingerie, there’s nothing like that.”

“You don’t have to suck sideways.” His own words drew a tiny smirk.

“Yeah.”

“Or on a desk, or on the massage table, against the wall, in the upside-down pile driver position.”

“Yes! And the bond I feel for you, Colt, is so powerful. I love you so much and sometimes I have this feeling like I want to slice you open so I can live inside of your body. Like, that is how much I love you.”

His eyebrows wagged. “Wow, romantic.”

Pamela laughed. “Like, I want to crawl inside of you and just live there. It’s like, this powerful thing, and the sex with you is amazing, it’s different, it’s something I’ve never felt with anybody else. And I have that with you, Colt. I have our love, our twelve years of being together. I have what I want, what I’ve dreamt about. I cherish what we have, and promise you, no man, no woman will ever come between us.” Tears forming in her eyes, Pamela took a deep breath. She could do this.

“Pamela, don’t. This is all my fault. I’ve just been in a weird place lately and I …”

“Please, baby,” she interrupted, “let me finish. I know I’m not the perfect, ideal wife …”

Yes, you are.

“… but I never want you to doubt my feelings for you. I don’t care how many Charlies fall in love with me, how many gifts guys like Corey send me. There is no reason for you to feel anger, jealousy, whatever. They’re … that’s business. It’s not pleasure, not personal.” She dropped her head in her hands. “Besides, I’ll never work at the house again, anyway, with how jacked up my back is.” Where did that come from? Where was the confidence, the positive spin on everything that made Pamela so appealing?

Above all else, where was her denial?

“Hey.” Colt’s soothing voice was accompanied by his hand touching her shoulder. Now on bent knee, he planted a kiss on her temple. “You’re going to be fine. Medical science, doctors, they can do amazing things. They’re going to fix you up and your back will be as good as new.”

“But what if it’s not?” Panic rose from within. It was time to let her guard down. This injury, the possibility of major spinal surgery, of permanent damage, terrified her like nothing ever had. What would she do for a job? Would she live and work in Maryland while Colt commuted thousands of miles back and forth? There was no way she’d work at the brothel as a bartender or the house madam, or behind the scenes, if she couldn’t double-dip as a provider. Pamela had too many recurring clients, too much of a history, and feared that if she had to turn those long-time mongers away and disappoint them, it would decimate the house’s business.

Just cripple it.

Why did this have to happen? How could it happen?

“You’ve always told me that you’d never welcome any negative energy into your life.” Colt paused before adding with sympathy in his voice, “C’mon, Pamela, everything will work out.” He raked his hands through his hair. “I don’t like seeing you this way.”

With Colt sounding nothing short of tortured, Pamela looked up and tears tumbled down her cheeks. God, she was pathetic. Colt may have skeletons in the closet, a history of guilt and shame, but that was all in the past. What’s done is done. Colt was a good man who’d do anything for her. The way he took care of her. He’d tell her every day her happiness was his happiness, and it was the only thing that mattered to him. The way he was just Colt, and it was reassuring to her – and sexy as hell.

He brushed away more of the tears that were flowing down Pamela’s face. “While I do admit that I’d like to move on to the next chapter of our life – kids, a less hectic lifestyle, more normalcy – I know you’re not ready for it. And I’m fine with that. I really am.” Despite his hatred for the house and their professional lives, Colt was telling the truth. “I’d never force you into anything.”

He had sacrificed so much for Pamela over the years to make sure she was happy, including holding back on his own life’s ambitions. I knew what I signed up for when I married a working girl. Foregoing the opportunity to be a father was the most painful sacrifice, but Pamela was younger than him and not ready yet – she likes to work and stay active, do her part – so it was a no-brainer. Perhaps she’ll never be ready. If so, that would be okay too. Like everything else, Colt would deal with it.

He didn’t know what he’d do without her. She was the best thing in his life.

Any sacrifice was worth it.

The forty-four-year-old leaned close so his forehead was resting on hers, his breath ragged and warm against her moist cheek. He cupped Pamela’s face in her hands and said, “I know we have much more to discuss, but right now my focus is doing whatever I can – whatever we can – to get you healthy and back to work because that’s what you want. I know you don’t want your career to end in this manner.”

Colt weaved his fingers into Pamela’s hair, near the base of her neck, and tilted her head. “Please let me take you upstairs so I can lay you down, give you a massage, and make you feel better. Please, honey.”

As Pamela nodded, Colt’s lips covered hers. Soon their tongues were tangled together and the heat of their unique connection was burning like desert wildfire. …

“You understand what we want to do here, right?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Sammy’s teeth flashed, white and broad. “Honestly, it’s a pleasure to see you again. It’s been over a year, hasn’t it?”

“Hmm, yeah, I guess it has.” A seasoned veteran of the sex industry, Mariko (real name: Asa Akiyama) had built a loyal following over the past seventeen years with thousands of clients making the pilgrimage to Nevada to party with her from all corners of the globe. She had been working exclusively out of Happy Ending Ranch (legally, at least) for the past two years, citing its low fees, chill living conditions, and close friendships with Elisabeth, Nicolette, and Aaliyah.

Mariko was born in New York City but raised in Tokyo, Japan. She had jet-black hair and brown, smoky eyes, and an athletic edge to her otherwise sex machine of a body. Standing five-foot-two and weighing 106 pounds, Mariko sported 32c-24-32 measurements and took meticulous care of herself because her body was her only means of paying the bills and providing a quality upbringing for her young daughter back home in Las Vegas.

When on break from the ranch, Mariko masqueraded as a Dominatrix and a stripper. Tireless, she kept busy and hoped to continue working in the industry well into her forties, even her fifties.

Like Pamela, selling sex was all she knew.

Mariko complemented her ravishing appearance with a host of tattoos, including birds on the back of her neck, roses on her left shoulder, and cherry blossoms on her right (paying homage to her Japanese heritage), a star on her left forearm, and others as well. Proud of her ink, she was considering having additional artwork done as well.

“How about I offer you seven hundred for one hour?”

Mariko folded her arms and let out a combative snort. “Seven hundred? Come on, Sammy. Come on, don’t be that guy.” She skewered him with a bristly look. “You know I charge eight hundred an hour for a standard, one-on-one party. You’re asking for far more. Fetish shit like threesomes cost extra.”

“And I’ve never paid you more than six hundred an hour, at least at this house.” Despite his wealth, Sammy stuck to his guns when negotiating with working ladies and refused to let them price-gouge him. Still, there were rare occasions when he made exceptions, but only for the most special, sexiest of courtesans.

Namely, Pamela, Scarlett, and (now) Lindsay.

Mariko’s asking price is way too high in my opinion, but she can get away with it. She was the lone Asian girl here and had that corner monopolized. Good for her, right? More power to her. Rumor was, Mariko told Colt if he ever hired another Asian, she’d quit on the spot.

Still, Sammy was asking for more than a typical GFE. Seven hundred wouldn’t be near enough. Not with this chick. Mariko was a top-of-the-line gal – a straight A – and Sammy had partied with her off the books several times in Vegas and Salt Lake City. He realized the next twenty-four hours would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

He was splurging a lot already. Why not some more?

“I’ll give you nine hundred. Take it or leave it.”

Mariko huffed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine.” But then her lips quirked upward. “Such a tightwad.”

“Excellent.” Sammy made a fist and waved it about in victory. “I’ve sent you some e-mails in the past couple of weeks, but haven’t heard back from you, and I’ve been wonderin’ what’s been goin’ on.”

“Yeah, I saw them, and I’m sorry for not responding. I’ve been busy but am excited to see you again.” Mariko’s voice turned bubbly. “Are you doing okay, Sammy? How’s things in Utah?”

“I’m doin’ great. Had some business to take care of this morning and made the long trek down here to Flagstone by car.” He jutted his chin high. “Flagstone is the happiest place on Earth, isn’t it?”

“It’s always sunny in Flagstone.” Her eyes fluttered downward, and this time, she stifled a laugh. “In all my years of working in the houses, I don’t think I’ve ever had a negotiation like this.”

“There’s a first for everything, isn’t there?” Before Mariko had stepped foot in the bedroom, Sammy was guiding Lindsay’s head, his erection sheathed in the velvety cavern of her mouth, as she sat on the floor in front of him. Relax yourself, babygirl, and work on your deep throat skills. His eyes closed in absolute bliss. I’m going to teach you how to suck cock the way I like it. Lindsay performed fellatio as if her life depended on it and loved having her hair wound tight around those strong fingers.

“I told Kayleigh she was to give me a blowjob while you and I discussed pricing. Look at her, Mariko. Isn’t she a spitfire?” Sammy admired the shameful sight of the nubile eighteen-year-old, her head bent to the task, worshipping his dick. “I’ve learned that she’s a submissive little thing, too, and loves being told what to do.” A scorching sensation abounded between Lindsay’s thighs, not to mention an air of desperation, as she sucked harder, faster, wanting to devour his cock.

All of it.

Sammy handed Mariko $900 in cash. “Go process that at the booking office with Jim, darlin’. Ain’t no way I’m getting up and doing it myself.”

“Okay. But just so you know, Jim went home early. Mindy is running the house at the moment.”

Sammy’s eyes swelled. “Oh, really? Is that so?”

“Yeah. Jim wanted to catch some sleep and said he’ll be back when we close at three o’clock because you’re having the overnight with Kayleigh. Colt wants him here for it. Mindy’s shift ends at three.”

Fanfuckingtastic. Sammy would talk to Mindy once Mariko’s sixty minutes were up. Mindy may be the night bartender, but I’ve negotiated with her before and think we can strike a deal that’s beneficial to us both.

When Mariko excused herself seconds later with the cash in hand, Sammy, seated at the foot of the bed with his legs outstretched, turned his attention to Lindsay.

“I can tell, honey, that you’ve learned an awful lot in such a short amount of time. I thought your little mouth was incredible last week. But right now? It feels fucking otherworldly. So good.”

“Thank you, sir.” Lindsay kept her head bowed, her blonde hair cascading around it, planting tender kisses on his cock, thighs, and balls. “I just want you to let me make you feel good. That’s what I’m here for. Making you feel good makes me feel good.”

Sammy again wove his fingers through her hair and lifted it from her face, providing himself the perfect view as she tended to him. His heart pounded like a runaway horse, and despite his calm, cool exterior, his body temperature was spiking. Lindsay’s large, cobalt eyes and lush, red lips were so seductive he had to shift on the bed. She was such a petite thing, too, her skin soft as silk beneath his touch.

“Keep sucking, darlin’.” He peered at the ongoing countdown on his smartphone: twenty-two hours and fifty-one minutes. I’m going to use and fuck you so hard tonight and tomorrow that you’ll never forget it. Oh, the things Sammy had in mind. “Don’t stop sucking. When I want you to stop, I’ll tell you to stop.”

“Yes sir.”

“Else, it’ll make the spanking you’re going to receive once Mariko leaves all the more painful.”

She mewed like a child. “Yes sir.”

Lindsay needs to start calling me “Daddy” on a full-time basis instead of occasionally. We can work on that over these twenty-four hours too.

“Oh my God.” Soon, Sammy couldn’t hide his pleasure any longer. He had received thousands upon thousands of magnificent blowjobs over the years, but rarely from a woman he loved. Barbara doesn’t do oral at all anymore and, really, the only other woman I’ve loved was Alana. She was his original sugar baby, gone but not forgotten, a victim of ovarian cancer.

The feeling, as well as the sight of his throbbing dick dominating Lindsay’s face, pressing against the back of her throat validated this steep investment. He put his hands on either side of her skull and thumped away, the way the Master of this sort of loose, wanton girl was entitled to. “Take it down that fuckin’ throat.” Wet, dirty notes of intense oral originated from the mouth that Sammy used like a pussy. “I know you loved sucking my dick in front of Mariko, too, having an audience. You’re a bad girl.”

“Hmmmmm,” Lindsay managed, her tongue flicking away. “Oh my goodness. Look how hard I got you.” She reared up to spit several times on his cock. Lindsay didn’t stop to wipe her messy mouth, either, instead diving right back down to fill her oral void again. Spit streamers dripped from her chin to her breasts.

His tone dropped, becoming dark. “Such a bad, bad girl.”

When Mariko reentered the bedroom, Sammy slowed his thrusts and smiled. “Why don’t you take your clothes off, darlin’?”

As she had done thousands of times in her own right, Mariko put her smartphone down, lowered the zipper of her dress, and shrugged it to the floor. “Like what you see?” She stood in her silky bra and panties, their color purple, and black thigh-high stockings with lace around the elastic tops. It was an ideal complement to Mariko’s dark, cocoa skin. Five-inch pumps adorned her delicate, slender feet. She was a stunning young woman whose body was not only on a rental loan for the next sixty minutes, but also at the disposal of a man old enough to be her father.

“I like your panties, sweetheart. So, so trashy. And cute too. But I want you to remove them. Take them down and play with yourself as Kayleigh sucks my dick.”

Mariko nodded and slinked her purple panties down until they fell to the floor and circled her feet.

“Play with your pussy,” Sammy said, his breathing ragged. “I know how much being with other girls turns you on, darlin’, so don’t you worry.” Sammy recalled the overnight he had at a hotel in Utah eighteen months ago featuring Mariko and Olivia, a girl from one of the northern houses. Mariko proved ravenous for Olivia’s pussy and that was not an act. “You and Kayleigh will acquaint yourselves very soon.”

Mariko moaned as her fingers rubbed her clitoris. For an instant, a thrill of shame zoomed through her and she smiled at the sight of Sammy eyeing the young blonde as the submissive plaything she was.

Word spread quickly throughout the house earlier – as it always did – and many were flabbergasted that Sammy, of all people, had booked twenty-four hours with Lindsay. Some ladies were upset, too, claiming Sammy never got more than an hour with them, and that poisonous, evil monster – jealousy – reared its ugly head.

Even in a relaxed and peaceful house where Colt and Pamela strove for everyone to get along like a family at all times, these girls were still only human.

…

I’m mad salty, highkey! Kayleigh will party and make more money in the next twenty-four hours than I will during my entire three week stay at the house.

…

Last time I saw him, Sammy kept going on and on about what a wonderful time we had and promised to purchase double that on his next trip, if not triple. What in the blue hell does he see in Kayleigh? She’s an awkward, uncoordinated turnout with no talent. I’ve seen her suck cock. She’s all gums and slobber.

…

Why does Kayleigh get to have all the fun and make all that money? It isn’t fair!

…

Mariko had a different viewpoint than some of her co-employees.

Sammy has always liked the younger girls and clearly has a soft spot for Kayleigh. I’m happy for her. I cannot complain; I have my share of whales too. It’s good for clients to spread the wealth and sample different girls during a particular trip or vacation – keeps us all happy – but focusing on one isn’t such a bad thing either. I don’t involve myself in hating games. After all, it’s the trick’s money and they can spend it whatever way they see fit.

…

Sensing an opportunity, Mariko sashayed over to the bed, placed a hand on the back of Lindsay’s still bobbing head, and dropped to a knee. “That’s right, honey. Show the nice man how much you enjoy sucking his dick.” Mariko purred like a kitten at the raw guttural noises Lindsay made, but suddenly her demeanor changed as she yanked hard on Lindsay’s hair, forcing her spine to arch and eyes to open as she dragged her head back, further back still, as far as her neck would allow. “I want you to remember, bitch, you’re doing this to please me too. Now put it back. Put it back in your mouth. Yeah, that’s it.”

Mariko’s dominant half, the demon succubus, had risen to the forefront, which brought a huge, shit-eating grin to Sammy’s face. Mariko preferred to top other prostitutes in multi-girl parties, especially if they had a submissive side, and that was a major reason she was the first he paid to bring in tonight.

“Don’t take it out of your mouth. You keep in there until I tell you, you little slut.” Mariko’s voice was soft, yet demanding, her lips brushing Lindsay’s ear as the lovely young prostitute mumbled and nodded. “Don’t let it fall.” She traced her fingertips, light as a whisper, up and down Lindsay’s shoulders, causing shivers.

“Look at me. All your pleasure is mine.” The speed of Sammy’s thrusting hips increased as Mariko added, “Every. Last. Bit of it.” Lindsay let out a shrill cry, her eyes trained on Mariko. “You love that cock. Show me how much you want to please me, how much you want to please your Master.” She still had a fistful of Lindsay’s hair. “Ohhhhh, yeah. Look at that adorable mouth wrapped around this old grandpa’s dick. Such a fine, fine cocksucker.”

“Yeah, let’s hear you gag.”

“Let’s hear you gag,” Mariko agreed with Sammy. “I wanna hear you whimper.” Lindsay’s jaw throbbed as Mariko held her head in place for several seconds, her mouth stuffed full, and she almost ran out of breath. But when Mariko let go, Lindsay pulled back with another obscene, gooey string of drool dangling from her chin. “Open your mouth. Back in.” Just like that, Lindsay was plying her sensuous craft again. “I love seeing your mouth full of dick. In fact, I refuse to live in a world where that mouth of yours is used for anything except pleasuring others.” Mariko yanked, pulling her head away once more. “Tell me how much you love it, slut.”

“I love it so much.”

“Do you want more?”

“Yeah!” Lindsay cried out.

“Yeah? Tell me how much you want it.”

“I want it so fucking bad!”

“Then take it.” Mariko’s lips pursed as Sammy bucked his hips harder, making Lindsay gag anew. “Let him fuck you. Let him have you in any way he wants because that’s what I want.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Her pussy on fire, Lindsay did her best not to hedge beneath Mariko’s intense scrutiny. No woman had ever spoken to her this way before – like an object, a party favor to be shared and passed amongst the masses, and though the idea itself was white-hot, she couldn’t deny the treatment had her shaken. I shouldn’t allow people I barely know to demean like this.

“Aren’t you excited?” Mariko slid her hand downward, cupping the curve of Lindsay’s ass. “It’s obvious Sammy has plans for you. He’s going to fuck you, Kayleigh. Spank you. Abuse that cute body of yours. And I think you’re going to enjoy it as much as he will.”

Moments later, the scene had shifted.

With Lindsay’s legs straining far apart, knees up and feet anchored on the mattress, Sammy eyed the back of Mariko’s head, a mass of obsidian-black hair, twisting haphazardly between her thighs. Mariko’s skilled, magical tongue felt so wonderful. Lindsay wanted more of it, much more, as she bounced up and down and thrust herself against Mariko’s mouth, an orgasm gaining momentum, brewing, pounding, clawing for release.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, Mariko’s won’t be the only mouth that eats you out over the next twenty-four hours,” Sammy said over the moans and licking sounds. Every inch of Lindsay had disintegrated into delight, her thighs quaking. “We’ll see about inviting Sahara and Riley in next for a foursome. How many times have you told me that you’ve fantasized about having a party with Sahara and Riley? About how fascinated you are by their relationship, that they’re in love and getting married, and how you wish you could have that with your little friend, Evie, back in California? We’ll also see about getting Elisabeth in here tonight. Kenzie and Nicolette tomorrow, too, sometime. You’ll be fucking every single one of them.”

Mariko clung to Lindsay’s hips and kept her mouth wrapped around her clitoris and continued to suck and lick without the protection of a dental dam. Lindsay’s body was writhing under her ministrations and her moans had become a steady chorus of unbridled ecstasy. Helping another woman fall to pieces like this, especially one as luscious as this hottie, was one of Mariko’s greatest joys.

“Each of these nice girls,” Sammy said, his deep voice rumbling over Lindsay, “will pleasure you with their fingers and mouths, and open your cunt for me to fuck it.”

Lindsay came again.

Sixty seconds later, with no rest for the weary, Lindsay was on all fours and Sammy was already fucking her. His pelvis slapped against her upturned ass and her face was being forced down and mashed upon Mariko’s pussy, and she was doing her best to repay the favor.

“Lick that pussy, Kayleigh.” Sammy struggled for oxygen as he gave her the goods. “You want to get off yourself, but you need to help Mariko get off too. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a greedy submissive. Don’t be greedy, babygirl. It’s awfully generous of Mariko to join us tonight and allow you to feast on her scrumptious, little pussy.”

Lindsay’s breasts flopped as she cried and screeched while taking it in the doggy style position, kissing, licking, and tasting pussy to gorge her hunger.

“You like Mariko’s sweet, Asian cunt, don’t you?” Lindsay’s tender, innocent visage stirred Sammy’s predatory nature. “Oh, yeah. Look at you. Insatiable little slut! Yeah, yeah, keep going.” His world spinning, Sammy rode her from behind with authority. His thrusts grew more urgent, faster.

“Oh my God, that fucking dick feels so good!” she panted out. “It’s so deep in my pussy! Oh, dear God. Yes, Sammy, yes! It’s so big! You’re gonna make me come again, aren’t you? Oh my goodness.” Lindsay’s eyes rolled up into her head. “Yes, right there! Right there!”

Mariko’s stormy eyes were locked on Lindsay’s face. “Yeah, baby, lick it. Lick it! You like that? Oooooh, such a good girl.” She had one hand on a breast, kneading it, and the other between her thighs, spreading her nether lips to allow Lindsay’s probing tongue easier access. “Like that, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Such a good job at that.” Mariko switched her focus to Sammy and grinned. “Oooooh, look at you. You’re fuckin’ her so good.” She weaved her fingers through Lindsay’s hair and squeezed. “I know it’s rough, but you’re handling things like it a pro.”

“Oh my God, it’s so fucking big!”

Mariko sneered. “Yeah, I know. There you go, there you go. Reach back and spread your ass open while he fucks you. Yeah, there you go. Take that dick.”

“Oh, shit!” Lindsay continued to cry. “It’s so big. Oh my God.”

“Kayleigh needs this.” Mariko tightened her grip on Lindsay’s head, now using both hands, as she gazed up at Sammy. “Her life was so fucking boring before she showed up at the brothel last week and took a job here. She was telling everyone about it over dinner last night. She’s a repressed little slut who needs nonstop fucking.”

“You do need this, don’t you?” Sammy’s strong hips pounded into Lindsay’s defenseless ass. “Tell me you need it. Tell Daddy how much you need fucking and discipline.”

“I need it!” Her clitoris pulsed in unison with the constant onslaught. “I need it!”

Lindsay gasped as Sammy yanked her head away from the joining of Mariko’s thighs. Reflexively, Lindsay turned to look at him and was met with a deep, forceful kiss, then Sammy shoved her face toward Mariko’s, and they shared a kiss of their own. Sammy’s speed tapered down as he held Lindsay’s head in place. Her kiss with Mariko started out ravenous but had since slowed. She was humping her ass on Sammy’s pelvis, riding the dick he plowed into her, fucking her the way a dominant man should.

“Give it to me! Pl-Please! I wanna come on your fucking dick. Oh my God … yes!” Lindsay tore her mouth away from Mariko’s and again glanced over her shoulder at Sammy. “Oh my fuck!” Her hips bucked and rolled so much that there was no more reason for Sammy to thrust, so he stopped. Relentless, Lindsay impaled herself on him over and over again as if she was a woman possessed.

Mariko put her hand on Lindsay’s face and caressed it. “You like huge dick, don’t you? A size queen, hmm? Oh, yeah. Sammy knows how to fuck a girl, doesn’t he?” Unable to resist, Mariko grasped Lindsay’s chin and turned it so they could kiss again.

Overcome, Lindsay again broke the kiss and focused on Sammy. “Meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Oh, I wish you’d come here every day from now on and fuck me.” Tears rolled down her face. “Shove it in, my pussy is yours! Owwwww! Yeah, pull my fucking hair! You know I deserve it! Oh, fuck. Yes. Yes! Oh my God! Don’t stop, Daddy! Don’t stop! Oh Daddy! My pussy is throbbing!”

“Who’s pussy?” Sammy said, thrusting. “Who does it belong to? Who’s pussy is it?”

“It’s your fucking pussy!”

He smacked her ass once, twice, a third time. Hard and brutal. “Why is that? Why is it mine? Why?”

“Because I’m your slut, Daddy!” Lewd, decadent sounds filled the bedroom. Slam after slam, Lindsay’s pussy became wetter, and the noise created from ass slapping pelvis sounded like a spanking itself. “Your dick is so big! Fuck, Daddy! Fuck!” Sammy took her with a hardcore savagery that even surprised him. “It’s hurting me, but don’t stop! Please don’t stop!”

“Come now, Kayleigh.” Lindsay was the centerpiece of a Mariko and Sammy sandwich, squished between them on the bed as Sammy’s lips were brushing her ear. “Come for your Daddy.”

When Sammy walloped her ass again with an open palm, Lindsay let herself go and experienced a pleasure she never knew existed. Yet, it was a pleasure befit her, Lindsay Anastacio, teenaged prostitute, better than any other. In all her young life, she had yet to come so hard that it made her feel delirious.

Until now.

“Fuck me, Daddy! Oh God, I’m coming! I’m coming! I’m your whore! Your slut!” Lindsay kept screaming at the top of her lungs until she had no voice left. No more energy or willpower to buck and churn against him as she basked in the orgasmic high of being fucked so thoroughly while yielding complete authority to the type of man who understand how to take advantage of it.

Lindsay didn’t know whether this was ecstasy or agony. Sammy had taken her beyond screams, beyond compliance, beyond the ability to think. Passion surged through every molecule, her pussy, her womb, her chest, her throat, bubbling and frothing out through her mouth in a cry so animalistic in nature it felt as if it were being ripped from her. In the aftermath, exquisite feelings circulated all the way to her bones themselves.

“Good girl.” Suddenly, Sammy’s voice sounded casual as he stood from the bed and took a deep breath. His self-control under duress, he had staved off three orgasms already, knowing he needed to pace himself. Damn, it was torture. “I know you’re tired, but put your face back between Mariko’s thighs, babygirl, and lick that pussy. Do as Daddy says and I’ll reward you later.” He latched onto her head and offered some gentle guidance.

“That’s it.” His voice was soft. “Use your tongue. Long, full licks. Eat her pussy, Kayleigh. There you go. Enjoy it. Be a good girl for Daddy and I’ll give you a spanking before bedtime.” He refused to let go. “Keep licking Mariko’s pussy and show her how much you love it. How you want to be friends with her.”

Exhausted beyond all reason, Lindsay was able to turn one eye up and found Sammy smiling down at her. He was stroking her cheek with a fingertip. What has this man done to me? She asked herself that question yet answered it with another question altogether. How can I serve him next?

“Mariko, honey, I know we’ve got twenty-five minutes left with you, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Sammy’s voice sounded far away, as if echoing in a dream, as Lindsay’s face was dislodged from Mariko’s pussy. “It may seem strange and you didn’t do anything wrong, trust me, but Kayleigh and I need to be alone.” In other words: Sammy wanted to speed things along so he could have his talk with Mindy.

What? Being the third leg of the tripod, a forgotten aspect for thirty-five minutes? Yet still getting paid for a full hour? And not having to take any dick either? Mariko’s smile showed a full grid of teeth. “I understand, Sammy.” With any luck, she’d be entertaining another trick within the hour.

Once Mariko retrieved her clothing, Lindsay closed her eyes and sunk into the pink linen sheets of her king-size bed. It was comfortable and soothing as Sammy shared a deep, tongue-filled kiss with Mariko, and some verbal pleasantries. She opened her eyes and took notice of his hands scouring Mariko’s body.

“It’s eight-thirty. Do me a favor, darlin’, and tell Sahara and Riley I’d like them to knock on our door at eleven o’clock tonight if they aren’t busy and want to party with us. I’ll pay them handsomely.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let them know.”

Lindsay’s pussy singed once more at the thought of adding two more women to her twenty-hour marathon of debauchery. Sahara has been after me since day one and I have the feeling she’ll rip me to shreds just like Sammy.

“Also, please ask Sahara and Riley to bring along their strap-on dildos, too, so we can help further Kayleigh along in her ongoing training.”

“What?” Lindsay’s heart jerked against its tethers.

“This slut needs all the dick she can get.”

Once Mariko said her goodbyes, Sammy bent down and gathered Lindsay into his arms. He held her for a long while as she shivered, his left arm around her waist, his right cradling her head against his broad chest. The security soon released something within Lindsay’s soul and she felt so relaxed, so peaceful, even as her body still ached from being used. I never want to leave these arms. It’s paradise. Sammy sensed this, too – he held her a little tighter and stroked her hair.

He eventually returned to the bed and laid her down on her side. Sammy nestled in close. Lindsay’s eyes glistened with tears of joy as she again opened them and focused on the unquestioned man of her dreams. She clung to him like a loyal puppy.

Sammy took her wrist and guided it toward his cock, still throbbing.

“Your hand must be stroking my dick whenever possible, Kayleigh,” he reminded her. “We’ve discussed this in the past, haven’t we? That is and always will be a key component of your training. I want you to always remember that, okay?”

Her fingers closed around his shaft and commenced with a gentle pumping.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Don’t play games with me, Colt. You’re the one who wanted to talk about this.”

“Damn straight I do.” Tempers flaring, Colt eyed Pamela in their bedroom. What started out as a loving spinal massage had since dissolved into another argument. “How can you honestly tell me that you have feelings for Kayleigh? I mean, seriously? Kayleigh is a dimwitted, gullible little twit who doesn’t know her left from her right. And you’re in love with her? A turnout from the wastelands of nowhere? Someone you barely know?”

“Her name is Lindsay, dammit! Get it right.” Pamela spewed dragon fire. “Wait, what? So, you’re going to insult Lindsay just because she’s eighteen? She’s not dimwitted and she’s not a twit. That’s awfully low of you, Colt. I’m sorry, but I’d expect better from you than that.”

“You left me high and dry, Pamela! We were going to spend that night together, just you and I, yet you waltzed into Kayleigh’s bedroom and decided to park your face in her pussy instead. For twelve fucking hours.” When Colt’s eyes glistened, he turned away. “You sent me a text, of all things, saying you were staying the night with her – and not me.”

“And you took offense to that? Something I’ve done a million times before? It’s never been a problem in the past, has it? All the other girls I’ve slept with? You’ve had sex with your fair share of girls on the side, too, Colt.” Pamela put her hands on her hips and sneered. “Or do you feel threatened by Lindsay?” She laughed, full of indignation. “If you do, that’s asinine.”

When Colt didn’t answer, she said, “This is who I am. I’m a Godforsaken whore! I’m a homewrecker who’s helped thousands of men cheat on their wives. I get off on sex; I enjoy being with others. It’s what I know, what I do, what I’m good at. It’s. All. I. Know.” And he was a primary reason, Pamela thought, she was the way she was. After all, Colt had encouraged her all these years to work alongside him. To be his prize pupil, the house’s breadwinner, a naked silhouette of her likeness flashing in neon on the marquee. He had taught her every trick in the book, too – how to be a smooth talker and flirt, to pray on a man’s weakness and turn their emotions, play ignorant when it suited her, and utilize her charms during negotiations to fleece her johns for as much as she could. “And you’re my fucking pimp.

“But, I suppose, you must be happy now. Isn’t this what you wanted? My career to be finished?” Tears were streaming down Pamela cheeks, too, and Colt’s heart splintered into a million pieces. “To know that I’m hurt, I’m devastated, and will never see my friends again? That you can domestic me now, make me a housewife?”

No. No, no, no. This wasn’t going to happen. Stand your ground. Be strong. Colt shot Pamela a look of unmitigated disappointment.

Why was it every time they had a verbal altercation, Pamela made it seem like everything was his fault? She was an expert at twisting words and making things up out of nowhere. When did Colt ever say he was happy she may no longer be able to work? That he wanted her to be hurt, to be devastated? And he certainly never envisioned Pamela as a housewife. Your own wife is trying to manipulate you. She’s turning the tables and making you the bad guy.

It wasn’t Colt’s fault that Pamela wouldn’t heed his advice last week and slow down, take it easy, when she was favoring her back. That piece of shit Charlie is the one who injured her. How many times had Colt pleaded with Pamela to take a day or two off afterward? Yet she was the one who insisted she keep working, only to injure herself further, make it worse, in the process.

Since they were being open and forthright with each other tonight – “complete, transparent honesty” – Colt made the comment during the massage that he didn’t care for Lindsay whatsoever and had no idea what Pamela saw in her. Things escalated quickly and now, instead of Pamela explaining herself or showing remorse for the night she bailed on Colt – the first time she had sex with Lindsay – Pamela deflected, and was, in his mind, trying to guilt-trip him. I’m happy she has a broken back? Really? She even called him “asinine” for suggesting he harbored any ill feelings toward Lindsay and that she’d done anything wrong in hooking up with her for a booty call.

Colt was at the end of his rope. I’m done apologizing and trying to make things right.

He twisted away and stormed out of the bedroom.

“Colt, Goddammit! Come back in here this instant! We’re not done talking yet!”

“You’re right, Lindsay. There’s no expense I won’t spare tonight.” Sammy’s voice was strict, stern. “Sahara and Riley deserve you as a reward, don’t you think? How long have you played hard-to-get with them? Especially with Sahara? I know for a fact that Sahara loves breaking in a fresh, young turnout like you with her strap-on dildo, as does Riley, and I’m certain you could handle three dicks at once. I know you can. Elisabeth craves sweet, little teenaged cunts, too, and she’ll jump at the chance to be with you. We’ll party with her around one o’clock tonight. Kenzie and Nicolette, tomorrow afternoon.”

Lindsay drew a sharp breath and pouted. “I just want to be with you, Sammy.”

“I’m losing my patience, babygirl. I told you earlier you’re to call me Daddy until I leave this house tomorrow evening. Nothing else.” Disappointment flashed across his features as he pointed a menacing finger toward the bed. “Lay yourself down. It’s time for your spanking.”

She gave a resigned sob and complied. Dressed in the same red-and-blue cheerleader outfit that Ryker fucked her in over the weekend, Lindsay trembled as her elbows came to rest upon the mattress.

How would she last twenty-four hours?

The temperature index across her face increased as she jutted her ass skyward.

“You can do better, babygirl. C’mon, on your tiptoes. Much higher.” Sammy tapped Lindsay’s backside through the cheerleader skirt and sport panties she wore with a trio of incessant fingertips.

“Oh God.” Lindsay struggled to obey. She pushed up on her tiptoes and wriggled further on the bed, knowing her ass was squirming and straining, and giving Sammy – Daddy – the type of lewd dance he’d enjoy.

“You need to learn to present your ass to me properly. There. That position. Good, perfect.”

Fingers were at the waistband of her panties and they tugged, pulling the fabric down across her hips and thighs. “Look. At. That. Ass. Pure perfection.” Sammy left those panties in a bunch around her upper thighs. “You better become accustomed to this position, darlin’, because I have a feeling you’re going to receive countless punishments from me in the future. In fact, I know you will.” She gulped her throat as he said, “You have many training sessions to go through and I need to show you how to be a good girl.”

Lindsay sensed those thick fingers again, this time digging around as he spread her ass cheeks apart. A knuckle nudged itself against her puckered rectum.

“Is this really such a smart idea, Daddy?” Panic swelled, threatening to swallow Lindsay whole, as Sammy put the tip of his finger on her anus and pushed. “I mean, I could lose my job because of what we’re about to do.” Her eyes clouded. “Are you positive we won’t get caught?”

“Trust me. Colt or Pamela, Jim, none of them will ever find out.”

Lindsay rubbed her eyes with the base of her palms.

“You have nothing to worry about, honey. I’ve struck deals like this with Mindy in the past many times.” There was a reason Sammy preferred Mindy more than anyone else to be in charge of the house. “Mindy has a mortgage and three kids at home, and one thousand dollars in cash will go a long, long way for her.” Sammy ran his hand along Lindsay’s inner thigh. “Don’t you trust me?”

Her breath stalled, but she also nodded at the same time. “Yes, Daddy. I … I … trust you.”

After Mariko left earlier, Lindsay cuddled with Sammy for several moments until he claimed he needed to use the facilities and excused himself. Instead, Sammy hightailed it to the bar and asked Mindy to have a word with him in the office. It wasn’t often, but whenever Colt or Jim weren’t present, either Mindy or Jenn (the backup bartender and inhouse maid) ran the brothel.

Sammy offered Mindy $1,000 in cash to deactivate all the surveillance equipment in Lindsay’s bedroom, including the rarely seen video feed, until 10:30 pm. He didn’t say why, but they had struck similar deals before, and Mindy realized Sammy had some nefarious ideas in mind. She trusted him, though – he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize Lindsay’s well-being.

Besides, how could Mindy refuse $1,000? It was double what she took home on her paycheck each week and would eliminate all her outstanding credit card debt. Sammy was only asking for ninety minutes out of a twenty-four-hour party. Colt or Jim would never have a clue she had temporarily disabled the microphones and video cameras in Lindsay’s bedroom. Mindy would mess with the archives and make it damn near impossible for them to find out unless they launched a full-scale investigation.