The Perfect Holiday

by Mia Ford

“Kat, what the fuck is wrong?” she asked, shaking my arm, pulling my eyes back to hers. “You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost, babe. What’s going on?”

  “They’re gonna kill him, Bethany,” I said quietly as my eyes drifted back to my father, who was staring back at me even though I knew he couldn’t hear me speaking.

  Bethany squeezed my arm. “Who is gonna kill who? Katrina, who is gonna kill who? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “They’re gonna kill my father,” I whispered. “And there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop them.”

  * * *

  Bethany clutched my hand as she followed me through the kitchen and up the stairs to the apartment. We sat at the kitchen table where my world had collapsed just hours before and I told her the whole story. She held my hand and listened quietly.

  “Jesus, Kat, he blew your college money?” Bethany held up her hands with her fingers crooked as if she was choking my father. “That old fuck! That old piece of fucking shit. What the fuck are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know what to do,” I said as I wiped the tears from my eyes with my knuckles. “I’m not concerned about the money right now, I mean, I’m pissed, but what if they make good on their threats? What if they kill my father?”

  Bethany huffed at me. “You’re worried about that prick? He got himself into this mess, Kat. It’s not your responsibility to get him out. You just need to get the fuck out of here and let him deal with his shit. Pack a bag, you can come stay with me.”

  “He’s still my father,” I said pensively, as if I was coming to the realization at that moment that no matter what he’d done over the course of my life, he was still my father and I still loved him in my own warped way.

  Bethany sat back with her arms folded over her chest. “Okay, fine, whatever. Do you know who he owes the money to?”

  I shook my head. “No, he wouldn’t say. He said it didn’t matter.”

  “And how much does he owe again?”

  “Seventy-five thousand dollars,” I said. “It might as well be a million dollars because we don’t have it and there is no way to get it. This place is mortgaged to the hilt. He’s blown through my savings. We don’t have anything to sell or anyone we can borrow it from. We’re screwed, Bethany. I don’t know how to get us out of this.”

  “There might be a way,” Bethany said quietly. I glanced up at her. She had a cautious look on her face, as if she knew the path to take, but also knew it would be fraught with danger.

  “How?” I asked.

  She leaned her elbows on the table and held out her hands. I set my hands in hers and her fingers closed around them. “I’m going to ask you a question that you might think is totally irrelevant, but when you hear why I’m asking it, you’ll understand.”

  I blinked at her. “Okay…”

  She looked at me and arched her eyebrows. “Katrina, are you still a virgin?”

  CHAPTER FOUR: Nicky

  “Dude? Hey, Nick. What the fuck’s wrong with you, man?”

  I glanced over at Tony and was immediately sorry that I did. He was leaning back with his arms splayed over the back of the booth with a goofy smile on his face. I looked down. The dancer with the gap between her front teeth was under the table sucking his cock. Christ, it looked like she was sucking on a thick Italian sausage. Jimmy Fist was sitting sideways in the booth, his broad form shielding from view what looked like a pretty decent blowjob from the rest of the club.

  “Jesus, man, do you have to do that here?” I asked, wincing and turning away. “Take that shit into a back room. What if your dad walked in?”

  He just grinned at me. “He would give me two thumbs up and find some bitch to suck his cock,” he said. He punched me in the arm. “I’ve been talking to you for ten minutes and you haven’t heard a word I said. What’s on your mind.”

  I gestured at the girl’s head bobbing up and down on his cock. “Seriously, we’re gonna have a conversation while you’re getting your cock sucked.”

  “Fuck, man, hold on…” He put his hands on the top of the girl’s head and pushed her mouth down onto his cock until she gagged. “Okay… that’s it… right there… yes… yes… fuck…”

  I looked away as he moaned and shot his load into her mouth. I could hear him groaning and her smacking her lips. I heard her ask if I wanted one. I held up my hand without looking at them and Tony told her to get lost.

  “You should have had one, bro,” he said with a satisfied smile. “Bitch ain’t much to look at, but damned if she can’t suck a cock like nobody’s business. I give her five for looks, and ten for performance.”

  He picked up his drink and sighed into it. He had changed over to whiskey sours a couple of hours ago. I had lost count of how much he’d had to drink, but he still seemed pretty much in control. I looked at my watch. It was just after seven. I knew he’d be hitting Jimmy’s cocaine cross soon. That’s when I’d be checking out. Tony could be a real cunt once he started doing blow. Besides, tomorrow was Monday and I had to be at the office by nine. Tony would stay up partying all night because there was no place that he had to be at any particular time. He’d say that he was Tony D’Angelo for fuck’s sake. He wore a twenty-thousand-dollar Rolex just to show it off, not to tell him the motherfucking time.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me other than I turn around and your schlong is hanging out with a girl’s mouth attached to the end,” I said, picking up my beer. “Other than that, I’m good.”

  I could feel him eyeing me. “Come on, man, it’s me. Tell me what’s bugging you.” He held up his hand with three fingers extended like a Boy Scout taking an oath. “I promise, I won’t give you any shit.”

  I took a deep breath and pushed it out slowly. I held out my hand to gesture at the room, which was now packed to the gills and buzzing like a beehive with naked women and drunk, horny men. “Why am here?”

  He frowned at me like I was speaking French. “What?”

  “Why am I here?” I asked, my hands cutting the air. “I mean, what’s the point?”

  He turned sideways in the booth to face me, putting his back to Jimmy, who was still watching the crowd like a pit bull looking for something to kill. Tony said, “The point is free pussy and booze, cuz. The point is to enjoy being young and rich and have a great fucking time doing anything fucking thing you wanna do. I don’t understand, you used to love this shit.”

  I shrugged. He was right. I did enjoy it at one time, and I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t enjoying it now. I blew all the air out of my lungs and shook my head. “I don’t know, Tony. Maybe I’m growing up.”

  He leaned in toward me and growled like a wolf toying with its prey. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

  “Maybe it’s time.”

  I watched the crowd while he watched me. He tapped his glass on the table for a minute, then poked me with his finger. “So, what you’re telling me is that you want something more than this. Because this doesn’t do it for you anymore.”

  “Something like that,” I said.

  “I know what you need,” he said, slamming the glass on the table so hard it made Jimmy glance over his shoulder at us. Tony scooted up next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. He pulled me close and whispered in my ear.

  “I know what you need, cuz,” he said, his breath hot on my cheek.

  I leaned away to look at him out of the corner of my eye.

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “You need some virgin pussy, my friend,” he said, giving my shoulders a shake. “Some fresh meat to give you a fresh perspective. And I know just how to get you some.”

  CHAPTER FIVE: Katrina

  Because it was Sunday night, I helped close the bar around ten and was in bed by eleven. My father and I didn’t say another word to each other, probably because there was nothing left to say. He came upstairs and did his thing and I did mine. When he plopped down on the couch with a six-pack of Coors and the TV remote in his hand, I went into my room and l
ocked the bedroom door, something I’d never felt the need to do before.

  I didn’t think anyone was going to break in and harm me, at least not yet, but I felt better knowing that the lock might at least slow someone down until I could call 911. I set my cellphone on the nightstand and plugged in the charger without turning off the phone. I usually turned it off at night to recharge, but not anymore. You can call me paranoid. I call it being prepared.

  I took off all my clothes and put on my pajamas and slid under the covers. I was exhausted, as if I’d spent the day pushing boulders up hills rather than pushing drinks at patrons. Stress can do that to you, I supposed, suck the life right out of you like cancer sucked the life from my mom. I could just picture her looking down from Heaven, furious at my dad for what he’d done to me; for what he’d done to himself. She always loved him regardless of his flaws. I wondered if she was still alive if she would support him now. Probably so. She was always much more tolerant and forgiving of him than her daughter would ever be.

  I cried for a while, feeling sorrow for myself, and loathing and fear for my dad. Once I had no more tears to give, I tossed and turned for a couple of hours, unable to shut off my brain so I could fall asleep. When I did start to drift off, the conversation I’d had with Bethany started replaying in my mind.

  Her question took me aback at first. Was I still a virgin? Really, at a time like this, you’re going to give me shit because I don’t fuck every guy who looks at me like you do?

  That’s what I wanted to say to her, but didn’t because I didn’t want to get into it with her again over my virginity. She knew I was still a virgin. We’d had this conversation dozens of times before. It was always the same.

  “Would you please fuck somebody already,” she’d say. Then the rant would begin. “You’ll be amazed at how much better you feel once your cherry is popped! Maybe it’ll loosen your tight ass up a little bit. I promise you, Kitty Kat, it’ll feel so fucking good you’ll wanna do it over and over again! And I can teach you how to suck a dick so good that it’ll literally make any guy your slave. Men think with their cocks. You make a man cum until he thinks his head is gonna explode and he’ll follow you around like a puppy. Get that cherry popped, bitch! Spread those legs and put out the ‘open for business’ sign!”

  Bethany was such a whore and far from a poet, but she was probably right. I had so much sexual tension built up in my body that sometimes I thought I might explode. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no prude, nor have I been saving myself for marriage based off some misguided religious or moral grounds. I was a virgin for two reasons: lack of opportunity and lack of a man who I wanted to fuck. That’s it. There were lots of guys who would have gladly popped my cherry over the years, but I’d never met a guy I would offer the opportunity to, and I wasn’t going to let a guy pop my cherry just because it needed to be popped. And it wasn’t about love or any of that sappy shit. It was about desire and passion. When I do give my virginity away it would be because I wanted the man so badly I couldn’t hold back, not because Bethany told me it would make me feel better, like popping a fat pimple on your nose just to relieve the pressure.

  It wasn’t Bethany’s question about my virginity that was keeping me awake. It was what she told me afterward that had me so restless, the reason behind the question.

  “There’s this auction,” she said, glancing around the bar to make sure no one was listening. “They do it every few months at this big estate outside of town. Rich guys bid on the girl’s virginity. A hundred thousand dollars is the starting bid. Sometimes it goes into the hundreds of thousands. The guy who bids the highest gets the girl for the whole weekend and she has to do whatever he says sexually, within reason, of course. Violence is not allowed, but some light BDSM is.”

  “BDSM? What’s that?” I asked, feeling a little like I’d been living under a rock all my life.

  “Bondage, discipline, sadomasochism,” she explained as casually as if we were talking about the weather. “He’s buying the right to pop her cherry. And paying dearly for the opportunity. If he wants to tie her up and gag her, that’s allowed, but nothing that would cause serious injury or leave permanent marks.”

  I blinked at her for a moment, wondering how she could be kidding around at a time like this. Her expression told me that it was no joke.

  “You’re not serious,” I said. “Girls actually auction off their virginity?”

  She gave me a slow nod. “I’m totally serious,” she said. “And the girl gets half the money. Tony told me that some girls go for as high as three or four-hundred-grand or more.”

  “Tony?” I huffed and rolled my eyes. “Your fuck mate Tony who owns the club.”

  “Technically his dad owns the club, but yes, that Tony. He’s told me several times that if I knew any smoking hot virgins to let him know. When I asked why he wouldn’t say, then he got drunk one night and told me everything. They hold these auctions every few month or so. And they’ve been doing it for years. They usually have a dozen or so virgins and a couple dozen men bidding on them. There’s a little meet and greet before the auction so the men can talk to the girls and get to know them a little, then the auction happens and the bidding begins.”

  “Oh my god, this is like something out of a movie,” I said, putting my fingers to my lips. “This can’t be real.”

  “Oh, it is,” she said, head bobbing. “Anyway, after the bidding stops, the winner pays up and the girl is his for the weekend. The only rule is they have to stay there at the mansion in a private room for the weekend to make sure the girls are kept safe. Other than that, they own the girl from Friday night until midnight Sunday night. At the end of the weekend, the girls is paid half of what she went for at the auction, in cash. If it was a hundred grand, she gets fifty. If it was two hundred grand, she gets one. And so on. Not a bad paycheck for a weekend of fucking a rich guy, even if he’s old and fat. I wish I could go back and close up my hole so I could cash in, but those days are looooong gone.”

  “And you think you can get me into this auction?” I asked, barely believing I would even consider such a thing, even though the thought of it was making me tingle all over. “I mean, is it really safe?”

  “Tony guarantees that it’s completely safe,” she said. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Kat, is this something you’d really consider doing? I mean, auction off your virginity to save your dad?”

  I thought about it for a moment, then began to slowly nod.

  “Yes. To save him and myself. Talk to Tony. Find out what I need to do. I’m in.”

  * * *

  I opened my eyes to find myself standing on a stage of some kind. Not a stage, actually, more like a box or a podium that lifted me off the floor by several feet. I had to hold out my arms to keep my balance. The room was dark except for a spotlight somewhere above my head. I glanced up and shielded my eyes with my hands to peer into the darkness. I looked down. I was naked except for a pair of stiletto heels. My tits were full and round, my nipples large, like plump thimbles about to burst. My bush was neatly trimmed, though I had no recollection of having trimmed it myself. It was cool in the room. I felt little goosebumps rising and falling all over my body.

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, I was surrounded by men on all sides as far as I could see, too many to count. They were of various shapes and sizes and ages and colors, all naked, all extremely well hung, their cocks long and hard and veiny in their hands. As they stroked their cocks with one hand, they began to reach for me with the other. I tried to slap their hands away, but my wrists, which were free a moment ago, were now stretched wide and bound high above my head. I felt my legs spreading. When I looked down my feet were shoulder-width apart and my ankles were chained to the podium. I was basically standing, but spread eagle, like the man in that Da Vinci sketch.

  I tried to cry out, but found that I couldn’t because there was something in my mouth. My tongue pressed against the hard rubber ball gag that was wedged between my lips and
tied around my head. I was completely helpless to protest as the men got closer. My eyes widened as the men and their big cocks closed in around me.

  Hands and fingers and lips and tongues probed every inch of my body. They squeezed my breasts and tweaked my nipples until I moaned at the pain and pleasure it brought. Hands squeezed my ass cheeks, massaging them roughly, kneading them like dough. I felt fingers slipping between my ass cheeks, probing my anus lightly at first, then deeper, until the pain brought tears to my eyes and finally a sigh of pleasure from my lips.

  Fingers explored my pussy, spreading my lips and swirling around my hole. I felt warm juices gush from within me. Something hot and wet, a tongue perhaps, teased my clit, rolling it from side to side and licking it up and down. My body started to heat up, as if a fire had been set deep inside my belly and was now burning its way through me, sweat dripping from every pore.

  The ball gag that had blocked my screams disappeared as fingers pushed into my mouth, forcing their way past my lips and across my tongue. I welcomed them into my mouth. I sucked on the fingers and moaned. The fingers melted together and grew in thickness and girth until I knew it was a cock in my mouth now. My lips suctioned around the thick shaft as it slid in and out of my mouth. My mouth was filled with the taste of salt and sweat. I felt hot juices flowing on my tongue. The bulbous head pushed against the back of my throat, but I didn’t gag. I somehow relaxed my throat and took the cock all in, slathering it with my tongue as it slid slowly in and out of my mouth.