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CECILIA
“I’m the Goddess of spring, Frank, keep up.” I toss myself back on the bed and roll around in the flowers. In the background, Enya plays on the speakers loud enough that I can’t hear the camera clicking. I know there are five video cameras taking footage from different angles that I’ll piece together later. They’ll catch my good side, my bad side, and every curvature of my ass known to man. It’s a good day to be me.
I used to hate being a bigger girl. In elementary school, the boys all called me fat and the girls laughed at me. I used to come home every day crying and my mother would make me eat salad all the time and go to the gym with her. Can you imagine a ten-year-old at the gym? It’s an abomination.
But then I got into high school and I started blossoming. I wasn’t a bigger girl, I was a girl with curves. My breasts started coming in and my hips started jutting out and suddenly I was the most popular girl at school. I stuck it to the mean girls from fifth grade like it was my job. I stole boyfriends like I was called to do it by God. Not like I knew what to do with them, but I didn’t care. As long as they didn’t have them, that’s what mattered.
Mom thought I was making a bad name for myself. She thought I was supposed to be untouchable and classy. But screw being classy if it meant being looked down upon. I wasn’t born to be an ice queen like her; I was born to stand out.
Getting an OnlyFans was an extension of growing into who I was born to be. Where my mother had turned forty-something years old and wanted to have another baby and do it all over again, I had just turned twenty-two and wanted to spread my wings and make a million mistakes. One day when my kids googled my name, I wanted them to find naked pictures of me online. I wanted them to shudder in horror when they realized that I’d really lived. I wanted them to find news articles about how I’d got arrested for streaking or participating in a march for women’s rights or doing something truly worth getting a record for. I didn’t want to die one day knowing that I hadn’t done something with my life.
My mother had Charles. She had six ex-husbands that I could remember: John, Sampson, Julio, Gregory, Kyle, and George. She was no happier today than she was when I was born. She had this big, beautiful home and a baby in her belly. She walked around the house with a pout on her lips and all the things wealth could buy.
So why was I the only person in this cavernous mansion that seemed like they actually enjoyed it?
“We should make it rain.” I pop up off the bed again with a brilliant idea. “We need to have it rain petals down on me somehow. A spring shower. Get it?”
Frank is still snapping photos, but behind the camera I see him nod his head. “Yes, yes,” he mumbles, “that would be nice. Perhaps we do roses and sunflowers. You look beautiful in red and yellow, yes.”
Somewhere beyond the door, we hear a commotion. There is yelling and someone saying, “Miss Hughes isn’t expecting company right now!”
I look down at my state of undress. Despite the photoshoot, I have strategically placed flower petals taped to cover my nipples and vagina. No matter how much I move, they shouldn’t come uncovered. These photos and videos might be for my OnlyFans account, but my fans have never seen these parts of me. “Frank,” I frown, “is someone—”
But he’s already pulled his face away from the camera and he’s standing at attention with a glare. He turns to stare at the door and starts swearing in French.
Despite all my mother’s insistence that I learn another language, I was resistant to her educational pursuits. I don’t have a clue what Frank is saying.
It doesn’t matter though. Someone bursts through the doors regardless of the yelling on either side. The maid is yelling at the hulking figure to stop and Frank is screaming at him to get out.
“Cecilia Hughes?” He looks me up and down with a look of disgust on his face. “Put some damn clothes on.”
He’s all rippling muscles and angst. I’m kind of into it. Black cargo pants and a muscle T. Screaming voices telling him to get out. He stands his ground with eyes only for me. Say less. “Shut up,” I yell over the voices. “Just shut up!”
The room silences. Alicia, the maid, snaps her mouth closed. She looks at the ground like a properly chastised housekeeper. Frank looks at me like I’ve offended him. He starts muttering under his breath in French and not for the first time in my life I wish I could understand what he was saying.
“Who are you, Terminator?” A smile twitches at the stranger’s lips. I can tell that he’s impressed as I kneel on the bed in my flower pasties.
“Terminator?” He asks.
I shrug my shoulders and allow him to get a good view of how bouncy my tits are. “You know, because of how menacing you are,” I tell him with a grin. “And how muscular you are.”
The Terminator licks his lips as a full-blown smile appears on his face. He crosses his arms over his chest and slowly nods his head. “Gotcha. I’m trackin’. Get rid of your friends.”
I weigh the pros and cons. If I tell Alicia and Frank to leave, I lose what little protection I have. Truth be told, I’m a virgin. I might have fooled around with a few boys over the years, but I’ve never gone farther than fumbling with a boy’s dick a few times before I got bored and left him blue balls. On the other hand, if there’s anyone I’m willing to let take me to pound town, the Terminator is it. “Hit the road, guys.”
“Cece,” Frank’s eyes grow wide as he looks at me, “no, honey, this is no good idea.”
I don’t even look at him. I’ve got five cameras set up to take video footage. If anything happens that shouldn’t, the cops can find this guy and take him straight to jail. “Don’t worry about me, baby. I can take care of myself. I’m a big girl.”
Alicia doesn’t ask if I’ll be alright, she just turns on her heels and flees. I don’t blame her, I’ve been a bitch to be around. I’m demanding and not very thankful. It’s something I like to think I’ll work on but never quite get around to doing.
Frank looks from me to the Terminator and mumbles something in French before pointing at the big guy. “You hurt her and I call the cops.”
The Terminator shrugs. “You heard the girl, pal. She can take care of herself.” But something in the way he says it makes me shiver.
With my two shields gone, I’m left in my master suite with a pile of flowers, a hulking man in black, and five video cameras. “So who are you and how do you know my name?”
He takes a step forward and goosebumps crop up on my biceps. “Beau Brooks, at your service.” He grabs the door and swings it shut. It slams into the door frame with a splintering bang. “And I’m here to teach you some manners.” My heart starts racing.
“Well,Beau Brooks,” I lean back to sit on my ankles and feel the scattered flower petals tickling my bare skin, “I don’t know who sent you, but I’ll pay you double to go back and tell them no thanks. I think I know the difference between please and thank you and when to use my salad fork versus my dinner fork.”
But he keeps walking forward. I can feel my hands start to shake in my lap and I try to shove them between my thick girl thighs to hide my anxious fear.
“I’ll give you one more chance,” he says calmly.
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “One more chance for what?” Sass is dripping off my words like they were dipped in it. “Listen here, buddy, I don’t owe you anything. I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you manners. You’re a guest in my house. So why don’t you turn your happy ass around and get the fu—”
That’s my fatal mistake. My fatal flaw, if you will. I don’t even get a chance to finish the sentence.
His hand is around my wrist before I realize it and I’m flying through the air. By the time I figure out what’s happening, I find myself situated over his lap. He’s wrapping his leg around mine and I’m pinned down and trapped. “I gave you a chance, honey. Just remember that.” Then his hand comes down on my ass and it’s all downhill from there.
