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“Well, I live for depraved situations,” I murmur in a coy tone. “That’s what I’m all about.”
“Of course,” Art rasps, his eyes peering through the bubbles to take in my slick breasts and even slicker pussy. “That’s why we appreciate you, Xenia, although …”
The air seizes in my chest because maybe this is when he tells me that the club wants me to stay longer. Maybe this is where he proclaims that in fact, the bikers can’t live without me, and want me to bare my body to them for a couple more weeks.
“What is it?” I coo playfully, blowing a bubble at him off of my palm. “You know you can use my curves any way you like.”
Art’s eyes flash, and he nods, his voice going even deeper.
“That’s what we love about you, Xenia. Your sheer sluttiness and willingness to consider any depraved act. Although this might be a little too much, even for you…” he begins again.
I fix him with a mock-scolding look.
“You know you can speak your mind,” I say. “Have I ever said no before?”
He shakes his head.
“You’re right. You haven’t, so I’m just going to put it out there: would you consider plastic surgery, sweetheart? It’s not that what you have isn’t great. It’s just that we think you could use a tighter ass and a tighter pussy too, not to mention bigger breasts.”
That makes my jaw snap shut as I stare at this man with shock. Is he kidding? But the look on Art’s handsome face is totally serious as he regards me.
“Again, you’re beautiful the way you are, Xenia. But when we were playing “which hole is tightest” last week, a few of us began talking. It’s not that you’renottight, honey, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that Mother Nature could use some improvement. Besides, didn’t you say that you were with three men before us? So maybe they loosened you up a little too much, and now it’s time to get you into the best shape possible.”
I gasp while tears spring to my eyes because how can Arthur say these words to me? I did reveal to that prior to the club, I was dating three men simultaneously, but Ineverthought they would draw this conclusion from my confession. How can they imply that I’m second-rate?
“But I’m only twenty-five,” I stammer. “I can’t be loose down there already. I’ve never even had children.”
“Of course, you’re notlooseper se,” Art rushes, his expression concerned. “It’s just that things could bebetterdown there,” he says by way of explanation. “It wouldn’t be a big deal, honey. Just an outpatient procedure, and you wouldn’t even feel anything.”
I stare at him.
“Vaginal tightening is major surgery,” I manage in a strained tone. “I’m sure anal tightening is too.”
Art shrugs.
“Yeah, but we’d take good care of you,” he says in a smooth tone. “Your recovery time would be over in a flash, and you wouldn’t have any scars at all.”
I stare at him, still distraught.
“Yeah, but what about the boob job? That comes with scars, you know. They try to hide the incisions in a woman’s armpits these days, but still, you can see them if you know where to look. Plus, a lot of girls lose sensation in their nipples after the surgery. Would you want that to happen to me?”
Art stares at my creamy mounds, currently bobbling slickly beneath the cover of bubbles. He licks his lips hungrily, but then looks away and shrugs again.
“Of course not, sweetheart, and trust me, your breasts are delicious as they are. We appreciate the Double Ds and love fucking those babies at every turn. But you know how the world works: gravity comes for everyone, and especially for women with big knockers. So a boob job could be worth it, don’t you think? The surgeon would elevate and lift your titties, and possibly even take you up a size or two. Wouldn’t you like that? You’d go from being Double Ds to maybe an H or even an L. Fuck, that makes me hard,” he rasps, his dick already twitching within his pants. “You’d look gorgeous if you became a top-heavy Barbie.”
I nod woodenly, but inside, I’m utterly devastated by the revelation that the men of the Cannon Biker Club want me to submit to surgery as the final part of my initiation. I thought I was doing great with my current performance, but clearly, I thought wrong. Instead, these guys see flaws everywhere, and want me to go under the knife to correct them.
Setting my jaw into a line, I look away.
“Thanks for letting me know,” I say in a wooden voice. “I’ll consider it.”
Art nods, his expression thoughtful.
“Don’t take our conversation the wrong way,” he says in a smooth tone. “These are just suggestions because the final choice is yours, Xenia.”
But of course, I can hear the unspoken words lingering in the air. If I don’t get surgery, then the bikers are effectively done with me. I won’t be good enough for the club, and tomorrow will be my final day here. It’ll probably be the last time I see any of the bikers, come to think of it, and my heart breaks at that realization.
But I have to stay strong becausethey’rethe ones who have subjected me to this impossible situation. So I merely smile tightly at Art once more and nod while biting my lip.
