by Ma West
The thoughtfulness of her answer impressed him, and he was about to express it when she came back with more. “Which is an indication that she longs to connect with someone on a deep basis and has no selective judgment on whom to form that relationship with, while actually fearing that same relationship because she knows the difference in frames of reference will be so great that the relationship may flounder.”
He wasn’t quite sure he got her meaning. “That sounds fairly clinical and rehearsed.”
“Well that’s because it is. It’s from my own chart. Why are you asking me if she is normal? How the hell should I know? My whole life, kids have looked to me as the normal one. They were always like, wow, you lived here your whole life, so you must be so normal. But I couldn’t be! Every time I would make a friend, they would leave the next year. Then, again, make a friend and they leave, make another friend and they leave. No, normal is having a mother, a father, and a home. All I had was a place. Why did you bring Sasha here? Did you think we would become best friends? We will probably never see each other again. How close do you think we should get?” Pent-up anger flared through her voice.
He stepped back and quivered. “I just thought the two of you could have some fun. I’m sorry I put too much pressure on you.”
A tear swelled in Emilia’s eye, and her jaw shook a little. “I really can’t find her.”
He held out his arms to hug her. “Don’t worry, I will help you find her.”
It was somewhat touching, and Sasha wiped away the beginnings of a tear. Emilia was a confusing girl to Sasha, but it was more than just figuring out a new person. Whenever Sasha looked at Emilia, she became stricken with feelings. Most of their early conversations had been awkward, like two virgins groping in the dark, hoping to find something they both liked. Nervousness overcame her whenever there arose a pause in conversation or action. She longed for Emilia’s approval and attention.
“Sasha dear, have you been listening?” Daddy spoke the question, not sure where to direct the sound.
This game of hide-and-seek no longer seemed appropriate, so she announced her presence as she climbed down from the upper corner of the ceiling. A small hallway extended out from the kitchen, where Sasha had wedged herself into the upper corner. “Yes, Daddy, I have.”
Emilia’s stunned look brought a certain self-confidence to Sasha, and she liked the feeling. In fact, she liked most of the feelings she got from Emilia.
Daddy offered to order some pizza, but she wasn’t hungry. “Daddy, I want to go shopping.”
His face twisted, revealing the answer long before any words came out. “Now, Sasha, I am very proud of what you accomplished this morning, but I am afraid we are not ready for a shopping trip.”
“We or you? You are the one who’s not ready!” Hostility arose in her voice.
“Don’t you take up a tone with me, little lady.”
Emilia broke in, calming things down. “Ooh, really, what did you accomplish this morning, Sasha?”
Sasha and her father stared at each other for a long, hard moment. Then, taking Emilia’s lead, they each backed off.
“Sasha is the world’s best athlete, dexterous beyond belief, extremely well coordinated and balanced like a cat, and all Sasha did this morning was prove it.”
Sasha’s cheeks blushed, not so much because of what was said but because of who heard it.
“Wish I could have seen that. How does one prove such a thing?”
“Sasha, how about giving us a demonstration? What about running man?” Daddy asked.
Sasha nodded, and Daddy moved Emilia over into the middle of the kitchen, about ten feet away from the wall. Sasha moved to the entryway and began sizing up the maneuver.
Father yelled, “You have a nine-foot ceiling, so be mindful of your clearance.”
She took a deep breath, ran three strides, and jumped forward, clearing Emilia’s head and stretching out her entire body in midair. She landed into a summersault and used her momentum to jump out and up. She made sure to keep her speed up as she ran up the wall, rotating her body so as to run back across the room, perpendicular to the floor, above Emilia’s head. The move worked as it was designed to do, and Sasha ended up behind Emilia, who had turned around to see the spectacle. Emilia was clearly impressed. “So don’t play against you in basketball, got it.”
Sasha smiled, happy that she had been able to impress her new friend.
Chapter 2
Big M
The trained familiarity of her work phone’s sounds interrupted them. The baroness hopped off his lap, strode toward the elevator, signaled security via the camera, and looked at the message. “Big M,” it read. Her mood soured fast. Big M was one of the most annoying, arrogant, aristocratic fuckheads of a john. She pushed the lobby button, closed her eyes, and shifted into character.
She scrolled through the girls on duty in her mind’s eye. Big M was difficult. She needed to use girls who could handle his personality. As she ran through them, she kept matching the girls up not with Big M but with him. Two thoughts followed the distraction. First, what the hell was his name? He always paid in cash, and it would be too revealing to ask one of the girls. Second, what the hell was she doing? She’d broken every rule just to toss it away at the ding of a ringtone.
The elevator door opened to the hallway, where Big M’s security detachment had taken up various positions. There he was, all five feet eight of a mean little fuck. He had on a light-brown suit that was sloppily worn, unbuttoned. He had a handsome face, smooth skin, and a short well-trimmed mustache. He wore the lightening black of his hair to the side, as if it were a comb-over, with the sparse hair running down too far to one side of his head. He was perched up against Melody, the front-desk girl, rubbing his genitals through his pants. “My cock’s getting fuckin’ lonely here,” he yelled in a loud, drunken stupor.
The baroness’s gut twisted. “Well my my, Big M, you know that’s our specialty.”
“Here is a fuckin’ woman!” He placed his hand flat against Melody’s face and gently pushed off, shifting his body to face the baroness. She sent Melody a glance of apology and solidarity. Big M came toward her, grabbing her breasts and moving in close. The smell of alcohol covered him like nasty cologne. She instinctively slapped his hand away and stepped to the side.
She took a commanding tone. “First we need to review the ground rules. We don’t want a repeat of last time’s misunderstanding.” She grabbed him by the tie and pulled him toward her as she extended the last word. The elevator chimed, and she noticed the movement of bodies in her peripheral vision.
Big M reasserted himself, placing his fingers a bit too forcefully on her cheeks, and cupped her jaw. “Well find me some bitches that know how to treat a cock right.” He pulled back in both tone and force. She could tell he was in a worse-than-normal mood tonight. This could mean trouble. He was a very rich and established client. Losing him would likely mean losing her job as well.
“We are ready for you. Come wash and prepare.” She used her best business voice and gestured with her hands.
“I didn’t come here for that. Now start sucking and get me a beautiful ass to fuck.”
His impatience worried her, and she signaled for the on-deck girl. While the majority of the clientele were upper-class regulars, there was enough demand for instant gratification that the on-deck system had been implemented for weekend and holiday nights. She checked to see who it was. The girl’s name was Terresa—young, inexperienced, troubled background, and new to the team all spelled trouble. Shit, why hadn’t she bussed one of her go-to girls, damn it? She had slipped up in the elevator and let herself get distracted by whoever the hell that guy was.
“This here is Terresa, and she will get you started. I’ll fetch some of your favorite girls and send them in.” She grabbed Terresa’s hand and placed it directly on the bulge in the pants. It was a signal not meant to be subtle. She also whispered into her ear, “Do exactly as he says, and I will get you s
ome help as soon as I can.” She looked earnestly into Terresa’s eyes.
Big M put his hand down the back of Terresa’s skirt, moved his hand around underneath the clothes, pulled it out, smelled it, smiled, and said, “Now that I can fuck.”
The words surprised “No Tip” even though he was the one speaking them. “Now that is a man I want to buy a drink for!” He had already startled security by coming off the elevator. Now he was their absolute center of attention. “This, this is a man who knows how to treat a fuckin’ lady. So where are those drinks?” He slapped Big M on the ass as he finished the sentence. Security was close, within arms’ distance, but they were cool, obviously used to dealings in such settings.
“Damn right, treat ’em right and they fuck you over. Fuck ’em right and they bend over for you.” Big M laughed and offered a high five that was childishly returned.
“You sure picked a nice one. Join me and make her squirm a little while.” Big M paused at the invitation. “We cockmasters get to decide not only when they have had enough but also how much and when they get it.” No Tip raised his finger, portraying a sense of deep thought from a drunk.
Big M looked over Terresa as if inspecting a product. The baroness had shifted her position so that Terresa could still see her while looking in the direction of her client, and she almost looked like a base coach signaling a runner. After an instant’s delay, Terresa gave a pouty look and leaned into him. “Don’t make me wait.”
The performance was enough. Big M yelled for the waitress, who in all the cluster of bodies still managed to arrive as if on cue.
No Tip put a slight crook in his lips and proudly ordered two cosmos. After pausing for effect, he broke out laughing like a boy on a playground and threw a few gentle jabs into Big M’s stomach. The joke hit the right tone with Big M, but he quickly switched the drink order to scotch on the rocks.
The two enjoyed their drinks and shuffled over to the lobby. No Tip told some more casual jokes as he began searching his pockets. The worried look on his face was enough to signal a woman as intuitive as the baroness, and she sent the waitress up to collect.
Big M was happy to oblige and called over one of the guards, who put his hand into an inside jacket pocket and drew near. The process was interrupted by No Tip’s discovery of his wallet in a forgotten pocket. He put some cash on the tray and grabbed the two glasses that had been prepared in anticipation of another round. The two raised their glasses and downed them. No Tip reacted strongly to the drink, coughed, and spurted out, “I’ll let you get to that little lady now.”
He stood up straight and stumbled into the guard who had stepped forward when summoned for money. Sure enough, as was common in the industry, there was a clip in the upper breast pocket, attached with a small retractable string. He cut the string with a tiny blade he had surgically installed under his thumb and palmed the clip. Two different security guards grabbed him by the upper arms and wrists, escorted him to the door, and less than gently threw him out.
The baroness thought to herself, did he just fucking do that? What kind of balls must that guy have to go around fucking pickpocketing the security of someone as powerful as Big M? That scam never would work on her. She’d picked up on it from the first line, pretty classic approach and technique. She had to admit, the execution was flawless, but what balls. An inner part of her felt drawn to him as security escorted him out. It was the bravest gesture she had ever seen, and it pissed her off greatly. Now she no longer had a problem she could control. It was no longer a matter of shifting players and positions. The bar had been set much higher. She had the means to attain a higher goal, a legitimate method to permanently get rid of a huge problem. She could ask for money up front, allow the discovery, and simply end the night, hopefully. Or—and the thought ached her—she could allow Big M to do what he was prone to do, get too worked up, beat Terresa, and try to pay it off. This time, however, he wouldn’t have the money and she would enforce his permanent dismissal. She took a deep breath and thought to herself, that man, what a beautiful asshole. Then she made her decision.
The look on Terresa’s face showed her that it didn’t take long for Big M’s hand to find its way back into her skirt, and the bulge from behind indicated penetration, but not which hole. She watched the front door and took note as the guards threw No Tip to the left and directed Big M and Terresa toward an open room. That devilish smile on Big M’s face made her sick to her stomach.
“Benson, clip now,” Big M barked. The same guard as before obliged, only to discover en route that it had gone missing. Not missing a beat, Big M issued orders to the remaining guards, using his hands, and then focused all his attention on the baroness. “Who was he?” His eyes cased the room.
An icy shiver shot down her spine. Big M’s advance was fast. His hands were on her face, and now she knew which hole it had been. She fought the impulse to flee, calming herself as best she could. “Now, sir, we are a business. If I disclosed another customer’s identity to you, would you trust me not to disclose yours to another?”
Big M scared her with his raging eyes, but after a few moments of his penetrating stare, he turned around and went to Benson.
The baroness took advantage of the change in attention by calling the waitress over. “Find him. Check east alley first. Hide him.” The words were chalky and rough as she spat them out.
“Find who?” the waitress asked.
The baroness paused for a second. “No Tip.”
The waitress nodded and departed.
Big M spoke the words in a clear, cold, and crisp manner “You’re fired.” The guard bowed his head and turned to a petite man dressed in all black and wearing an earpiece. The guard, now unemployed, handed over his sidearm, his wallet, and a few other miscellaneous items before he departed. Big M tilted his head toward the petite man. “Do we have him yet?”
The petite man spoke into his wrist, put his finger to his ear with the piece in, and then nodded. “They will be bringing him around now, Mr. M.”
Two guards dressed in black suits brought in the man the baroness knew only as No Tip by the arms and placed him before Big M.
With barely enough time between his ejection from the establishment and his return in custody to stash the billfold, it was unclear if they had seen him drop it in the planter. Once again, the man known as No Tip was in the clutches of armed men. The guards brought him before Big M, restraining his arms behind his back.
Big M’s tone was much friendlier than he had anticipated, and that made everyone nervous. “Forgive the roughness, but there seems to be a misunderstanding.”
“Happy to help clear up any confusion.” He looked to the right and left, making eye contact with the guards and hoping to get released, but they held firm.
“Good, then give it back.”
“Give what back?”
“And you were doing so well. I thought for a second we might not have to go this route, but I’m happy we are.” Big M smiled and then placed his hand directly to the right of his prisoner’s groin. Big M pressed hard, and it hurt. It took everything not to scream. Big M placed his other hand on No Tip’s shoulder and dug his finger in deep. Had the guards not been holding him, he would have collapsed.
The baroness approached. “Gentleman this is a place of business. If there is a problem, I suggest you take it down the block, where you won’t draw attention here.”
“Shut your mouth, whore,” said Big M. “I’m attending to my business.” Big M then made a hand gesture to the guards, who promptly chained and shackled No Tip’s hands and feet.
“You going to arrest me?”
“No, I’m not an idiot. You, however, just might be. Search him.” Several hands began a thorough search of all his pockets.
“Now, I get charged when the girls do this. Am I going to have to pay you too?”
“Glad to see you’re keeping your spirits up, but I know how to deal with you, scum. Petty little suckball, you fucking leech off the good port
ions of society, spreading your seed through wretched whores, expanding the useless class. No, laws and rules don’t mean anything to you. Your kind only knows one thing, dominance by superiority just like animals. Now let me demonstrate to you what happens when you fuck with me and the domination I can show.” The petite guard handed Big M something as he came over. He ripped open No Tip’s shirt, grabbed his nipple, pulled on it, and then sliced it off.
No Tip screamed out in pain as Big M continued to carve away. One of the waitresses hurried over to the baroness. The two engaged in hushed conversation, and then the waitress walked toward the group.
“Big M, sir, I’m sorry to interrupt, but one of the girls found this in the bathroom. It’s got your picture on it, see, right there.” She handed the billfold to one of the guards and backed off.
The baroness stepped in. “Whore or not, this is my establishment, and I don’t welcome patrons who victimize my customers. You, Big M, will never be allowed in this establishment again, and any attempt to do so will result in a very public humiliation for you.”
The speed of the baroness’s demand threw Big M off. His anger immense, he put his face into No Tip’s. “I don’t know how you accomplished this trick, but you won’t fool me. I own this town. There is nothing you can do. Are you and your little bitches going to kick us out?”
“Yes, yes we are.” The baroness spoke with confidence. She raised her arms, and what must have been her entire staff filled the room, crowding out all of Big M’s security detail. It was a masterful piece of coordination by the employees, from doormen to cleaners, the girls themselves, and maybe even a few stray johns mixed in to shore up the numbers.
“These whores are not worthy of our business. Expect a visit from the police. Your place is shut the fuck down now!”
The baroness smiled as if she had the upper hand. “Do that and YouTube just might find itself a new celebrity dirtbag.”
