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“This one’s different. I think this is just what I need.”
Just as I’ll never forget holding my son for the first time, I’ll never forget the way the braided leather whip felt in my hand, or how it felt to hear the hooded man scream out in pain. How can something so foreign to me feel so familiar? With each lash I gave him, he begged for more. Without hesitation, I gladly granted him what he so desperately craved. It made everything, in the world around me, melt away.
What am I doing? Who am I?
I am hurting this man, yet I’m not experiencing a feeling of guilt or remorse for any of it. In my mind, he’d suddenly become Broderick. Every lash of the whip I deliver, I imagined was a punishment for him.
“More, Mistress… Please!” His words halted me in mid-swing. No matter how epic all of this was, nothing had been better than hearing the word, “Mistress” fall from his lips. At that moment, he’d not only unleashed the monster inside of me that I didn't know existed, but he’d named it as well.
If only for a moment, the smothering pain and misery inside of me became free. This man’s pain suddenly became my pleasure. I was his Mistress, he, my slave. I felt an empowerment I never dreamt possible. Relief filled me for the first time in four years. I felt whole again. Somehow in all this madness, I’d discovered a way to satisfy the yearning for revenge. Above everything, I’d just found my release.
I’d instantly become a completely different person, one that both terrified and comforted me. Eerily, everything I did in that room had been instinctive. I fed on the power it gave me. I yielded control that I’d never owned before. Time seemed to flash before my eyes. When the timer went off, I didn’t want the session to end.
Overwhelmed, I threw my robe on and flew out of the room, pushing people out of my way as I ran down the hall. Once I was back in the dressing room, I collapsed onto my bench in front of my dressing room station and cried. The tears that fell were not sad ones; they were happy. Finally, after so very long, I’d found peace inside of me, peace I never thought I’d feel.
Since I’m normally the tough, bad-ass one, none of the other girls had known what to make of my sudden breakdown. I didn’t give a damn what any of them thought. This was about something much bigger than any of them. This was about me.
When I was brave enough to look at my reflection in the mirror, I was stunned by the large smirk embedded on my face. There, hidden beneath all of the smeared mascara, resides the monster.
A monster, that will fight the demons.
A monster, I will never be afraid to be.
A monster, that had just set me free.
Dominating men became my personal drug. One taste and I was completely ruined. Just like an addict, the more I did it, the more I craved. I was worse than any junkie needing to score their next high.
My seductive dancing on stage and sexual advances on the floor became a way to lure them into my dark world. Blowjobs and lap dances come at a high cost, but they soon find that I’m well worth it. You see on the club floor, I’ll play their game, but once you’re behind that door, you obey my rules, my every command. I get paid exuberant amounts of money to control men, and I love it. It’s a high, a thrill like no other. They are here to please me, not the other way around.
Every single thing I do on stage is part of my sick ploy to get them into Ultimate Climax. The reward of seeing these fuckers bowing at my feet makes everything I have to do beforehand, worthwhile. Although most men will never admit it, they love the idea of a woman taking charge in the bedroom. Some clients are easy to coerce, while others take a bit more convincing. I’d always been the submissive, but now?
Now, it's my time to dominate.
Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
PAYNE
I’m a killer.
Assassin.
You can’t sugar coat what I am, or what I do. For the past five years, I’ve traveled the world fulfilling contracted hits. My targets have ranged from wealthy diplomats to regular, ordinary citizens. Killing gives me a satisfaction unlike any other, even my life as a Dominant. There’s nothing that will ever match how it feels, staring through the crosshairs of a scope, waiting for just the right moment to pull the trigger. No matter how many times I’ve done it, the rush of it never gets old or tiresome. Having the power to decide if someone lives or dies gives you a high, unlike any other.
For the right price, I’ll kill anyone, with one exception… Kids. Most assassins don’t have any limits, but kids are one of mine. Call it the last stitch of humanity that still resides somewhere in my dark soul, but if you ever ask me to take out a kid or someone around them, you’ll end up with a bullet right between your eyes. Believe me, I’ve had to do it before.
When it comes down to why someone puts out a hit, I don’t ask questions. To be frank, I could give two shits about their reasons why. Cheaters, mistresses, witnesses, wives, husbands, and lovers, I don’t care who they are or what they’ve done; I’ve killed them all. Without flinching, I aim my gun, confirm the target, and fire. There is no hesitation, no remorse.
What exactly makes a person become an assassin?
For me, that question holds a deeper meaning.
My unit had trained and planned for months on a secret mission to take down a group of militia, working on chemical warfare weapons. We all knew the risks involved this time, but like always, we took every precaution. On missions, every “i” is dotted, and every “t” is crossed.
What we hadn’t planned for was for the main U.S. intelligence agent, who was leading the mission, to go rogue. Once they leaked our location, the enemy wasted no time closing in and taking us down. As if in a horrific nightmare, I’d helplessly watched as my best friends were brutally slaughtered right in front of me. Like a wall of dominoes, my unit fell, and there hadn’t been a damn thing I could do to stop it from happening. Cole Roberts, my commanding officer and best friend, was the only person to make it out with me. He’d been severely injured in the attack, yet we managed to escape the building before they burned it to the ground.
When I lost him in the second attack, something inside of me snapped, taking with it what little soul I had left in the process. In the end, the army presumed me dead because I was meant to die that day… And so, I did.
I stare down at her picture, memorizing every feature of her face. She may be young and gorgeous, but that doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. She’s a job, a target. Tossing the folder on the seat beside of me, I lay the back of my head against my headrest to grab a few minutes of shut-eye before hitting the road once more. I’d been driving for over ten hours straight, and still have a long way to go.
When I accepted this contract last month, I admit that I became a bit suspicious. Senator Broderick Masterson was offering five million dollars to find and kill a woman by the name of Devyn Wilder. Devyn isn’t just anyone though. She’s his twenty-two-year-old stepdaughter that’s been missing for more than four years. The fact Masterson is now campaigning for Governor of Illinois explains why he might want some secrets buried. I just wonder what those “secrets” are to want your missing stepdaughter dead.
As part of my due diligence, I did a little digging on him. Since he’s running for a political office, I wanted to know where all of this was heading. There’s no doubt; he’s risking a hell of a lot. One word about any of this and his campaign will crumble at his feet. This job cannot be messy. I’ll need all the specific details if it’s going to be a clean kill.
Through my extensive research, I’d discovered that Christina, his wife and Devyn’s mother, had been killed in a dubious car accident. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why he wants this girl dead. Obviously, she must know something that she shouldn’t. It certainly explains a lot of things about why she’d choose a life on the run.
Masterson wasted no time playing on the sympathy of the public. He’d made multiple video pleas for any information on his missing step-daughter, even offering a hefty reward. Watching them o
n YouTube had made me nauseous. It’s obvious he’d only done them out of political gain.
Despite everything, this is a job that I can’t turn down. The money is just too damn good. I’m one of the very best at what I do. It’s why he hired me in the first place. But, finding this girl is certainly proving to be a challenge, even for me. One thing is for sure; she’s done a damn good job of covering her tracks.
Since I know what it’s like to be on the run, I know how her mind thinks. It fucking sucks to have to watch your back and live on the edge all the time, but sometimes there are no other options. Perhaps she had no choice but to live this way.
When it comes to disappearing, desperate people make innocent mistakes. Anytime you are pretending to be someone you are not, there are bound to be slip-ups. It gets exhausting always having to remember a new alias and forget your past. Somewhere down the line, you’ll get caught off guard and unexpectedly mess up. It’s those little goofs that throw a red flag up to people like me. I live for those little red flags. You can run all you like, but you can never hide.
A few days ago, I’d found proof that she’d been admitted to St. Joseph’s Hospital in Savannah, Georgia, almost four years ago. Although I couldn’t get much more info than that, it’s still a lead that every other one of the goons Masterson hired, before me, had missed. Hopefully, I can just get in and get the job done. But, as I look back over at her picture attached to the file, something tells me this job isn’t going to be that easy.
Chapter Five
CHAPTER FIVE
HONEY
As I sit in front of my station at the long makeup counter, I can’t help but glance over at the new girl occupying Raven’s old spot. God, how I miss her. She hadn’t been like the other bitches that work here at the club. She’d been real, genuine. It’s why I’m so glad she got out of this place when she did. Places like this are nothing but a trap. They tempt you when you’re desperate, sink their claws into you, and never let you go. I’d known, from the day she walked through the doors of this club that she didn’t belong here. But, like the rest of us, she had her own story to tell, her own reasons for needing this job.
Even though I’d befriended Raven and taught her everything I know, I always made sure to keep myself at a marginal distance. I couldn’t risk letting her get close. Because of that, I held back from ever trying to get to know her outside of the club. Now that she’s gone, I regret that I didn’t do more to create a friendship. Deep down, I think she needed me as a friend every bit as much as I needed her. I guess now I’ll never know. Unfortunately, we did not part on the best of terms. I wanted to make things right between us, but now it’s too late for any of that.
The only other girl here that I can halfway stomach is Angel. At almost six foot tall, with emerald green eyes, gorgeous long tan legs, and huge triple D tits, she’s the blonde bombshell at this club. She’s legendary for being the one girl with no limits; the ultimate submissive.
Where every other girl is here to make money, she’s here strictly to fuck. A few times in the past, she’d let her walls down long enough for me to see that she’s fighting some pretty dark demons. Just like the rest of us, she’s got her own issues. One look into those startling green eyes and you can see all of the pain and hurt she carries around inside. Every time I try to press for more, she pushes me away. I admit it both scares and worries me, but then again, I know all about keeping things hidden.
There are many times that men will request to watch me dominate another girl. When that happens, Angel always volunteers. It isn’t that she’s into girls, I believe she just welcomes the pain it brings her. No matter how rough the guy wants me to be with her, she never breaks. Instead, she’s right there, begging for more. Once we’re done, she walks away without saying a word about what had happened in that room. Although women are definitely not my thing, I more than enjoy my time with her in Ultimate Climax.
Bringing myself out of my thoughts, I continue getting ready for my dance. I flip over my hair and begin fluffing out my thick dark curls. Once I’m ready, I reach for my glitter oil. It really turns the guys on to see our skin glisten beneath the bright stage lights. As I carefully apply another layer to my legs, I notice that the new girl is watching my every move. For some reason, she’s been hesitant to introduce herself to me.
What? Am I that damn intimidating?
I meet her glance in the mirror just as I’m rubbing my hands together. Embarrassed, she quickly looks away.
Oh, what the hell.
Extending my hand to her, I introduce myself. “Hi, I’m Honey. You must be the new girl Mike hired.”
When she stands, I can’t help but notice the large rose tattoo on the side of her body. It wraps from her lower hip all the way up the back of her back. I continue scanning her with my eyes. She’s certainly got a fantastic figure; I give her that much. Just looking at her well-defined abs makes me want to start doing crunches on the spot.
“Oh… um yes. I’m Magic, but my real name is-,” I hold my hand up to stop her from continuing.
“Whoa! I’ll stop you right there. We don’t give out our real names here. From the time you walk in that front door, until the time you leave, you’re Magic, and I’m Honey. I don’t care to know who you are outside this place. Keep it all to yourself. Got it?”
She quickly looks away as if I’ve hurt her feelings. Great, it looks like we have a softy on our hands. If she can’t handle this conversation, she won’t last five minutes working here. Where the fuck does Mike find these girls? Besides, I don’t know why I’m bothering with making introductions. It’s painfully obvious that she isn’t going to be here long. Over the years, I’ve seen too many come and go, to believe this one will be any different.
“So, is this your first time stripping?” I ask, spraying my hair down once again with another coat of hairspray. We use so much of it in this place, it’s a thousand wonders I’m not on a respirator by now.
“No. I worked at a club downtown for a little while, but it was too slow there. This place offers more than where I came from.”
I know exactly, what she means by “offers more.” She’s referring to Ultimate Climax.
“Yes, it certainly does.” I return, raising my eyebrow at her.
She seems so damn shy and innocent. The men that come here will have a field day with her in that room. I’m sorry, but I can barely believe she’s stripped before, let alone be able to handle the hardcore stuff that will be expected of her behind that door.
Had I looked this innocent the day Mike had hired me?
Tim, one of the stage bouncers, walks into the dressing room and shouts in my direction. “Fifteen minutes and you’re up, Honey. Get ready to bring it because this place is slammed tonight. Oh, and Mike wants you taking the stage again in an hour. You’ll follow Angel on the set.”
“Got it,” I reply, watching him walk back out of the dressing room.
Mike had already warned us that it would be a full house tonight. Some wealthy clients had rented the entire club out for a huge bachelor party. Bachelor parties here at the club mean two things: loud, obnoxious drunken men and major money. Staring down at my racy, barely-there outfit, I grin. It should be a fun night. I plan on pulling out all the stops to earn every dime I possibly can.
For the past four years, I’ve paid every single thing, from groceries, cars, and living expenses, all with cash. Remaining in hiding gets super expensive, especially with a kid. I always have to have enough put back so that we can flee on a minute’s notice. When you are on the run, there’s no such thing as debit cards and bank accounts. It’s strictly cash for everything. Money trails will only end up getting you caught. I certainly won’t ever risk that happening. I’ve worked too hard to stay hidden in the world.
I’ve only had one slip up. It was the day I went into labor with Kason. I was in so much pain that I’d given the hospital attendant my real name instead of my alias. Thankfully, I was able to correct it without any problems. It
just proves that I have to be constantly on my toes, a task that can be more than daunting at times.
Pushing my chair away from the dressing room counter, I stand and give myself one final check before retrieving my secret weapon for this dance. I quickly secure it to my garter and make my way to the door. I normally do this number later in the evening, but I’m going all out tonight. This routine allows me to taunt and tease them for a while, until I’m ready to give them what they want. They’ll never get all of me because I’m not for the taking. This is my job. I take; they give. In the end, I make them feel pain for wanting me. Their pain softens my own.
When I came to work here, no one ever gave me advice. It had basically been, sink or swim. I remember stepping on stage for the first time. It felt like I was being thrown out into a pack of starving wolves. As I turn to leave, I feel the nagging need to tell her what’s swirling through my mind. Maybe it’s because she reminds me so much of Raven, but nevertheless, it feels wrong to not warn her about how rough things can get out there on the floor.
