Stud Princess

by N'Tyse

  Illusion slipped her saliva-drenched finger inside of her opening. Her legs were now spread wider than before. She stirred up her juices, then eased her finger back out, never taking her eyes off Muhedio. She brought her finger up to his nose and made a sizzling skillet sound with her tongue and teeth. “Smell that.” She slid the entire length of her finger across his upper lip, slowly enough for him to receive a whiff of it. His nose flared up as he strongly inhaled the musky scent wrapped around her finger like a breath of fresh air.

  “You like the smell of that, Mu?”

  He couldn’t deny it. “Oh yeah,” he nodded. He liked it so much that he was ready to eat her pussy right off her finger.

  “You wanna know what this pussy tastes like, Mu?”

  Muhedio’s dick was bulging through his pants, struggling to break out. She had him so hot he was perspiring. “Yeah, I wanna taste the pussy cat on my tongue,” he said, excited.

  Illusion saw the huge lump in his pants. She reached for it. He was large. Larger than most. “Mama gon’ take real good care of that as soon as we check in. Don’t you worry.” She lifted her other leg, spreading them both into a V shape. She was wondering if the Ecstasy pill that she had taken earlier was beginning to take effect all over again or if she was just too damn excited about this money she was about to make, because at the moment, she was so damned horny that she couldn’t stop touching herself. Her pussy was aching to be fucked, her nipples were harder than stones, and she was salivating at the mouth just thinking about sucking the skin off his succulent love stick.

  “I want to fuck you all night long too,” Muhedio agreed, joining along in her dirty talk.

  Illusion began cross-selling her goods in advance. “You do? You want this ass too, don’t cha, Mu?” she moaned, grabbing her own ass and wiggling it like jelly in the seat.

  “Hell yeah. I wanna put my dick in your ass too.” Muhedio drove faster, totally ignoring the 35 mph speed limit. He had to hurry before he ended up exploding on himself. He squeezed his balls, trying to calm the urge.

  About seventeen minutes later, he was pulling into the Adams Mark Hotel. The two of them stepped out of the car, and Muhedio ran around to Illusion’s side, throwing his leather coat around her shoulders. He paid the parking attendant and led her inside the building.

  When they got to their room, the first thing they did was head for the shower. Illusion blow-dried her weave and waited for Muhedio to finish. He came out of the bathroom with a white bath towel wrapped around his waist. Muhedio was at least five feet seven, medium built with extra storage, and mahogany skin smoother and darker than the richest chocolate. He was slightly bowlegged when he stood at a certain angle, and hung so far down to his knees that Illusion couldn’t help wondering if he suffered lower back problems. His hair was cut low, and the only facial hairs he owned were the tiny beads under his chin that shriveled up like ground meat.

  Illusion spread her pussy open, advertising it. She made it talk some, then used her muscles and made it yawn and blow bubbles. Muhedio was captivated watching it like a circus act the way Illusion’s kitty box thumped as though it had two heartbeats. His mouth shot open as he watched her stretch herself like elastic, getting bigger and bigger, then shrink back to normal size—all right before his eyes.

  As Mu stared in amazement, Illusion got excited even more. But right when Muhedio’s dick began to nod at her, she hurriedly closed her legs back together like scissors.

  “Hey, I wanted to see that,” Muhedio pleaded with her, not wanting her to stop what she had been doing.

  Illusion grinned, her titties saluting him. “I take cash only. I saw an ATM downstairs in the lobby.” It was time to conduct business on her level now.

  “I have the money already in my wallet,” he whined. “Open it back. Do that thing again. Make it clap for Muhedio,” he begged, stroking his shaft for a stiffer erection.

  Illusion’s face couldn’t look any more serious. “Let’s see it,” she told him, raising her foot to his hairy stomach and denying him the privilege of getting any closer. She didn’t trust tricks for a very good reason. The first and last john she ever let get over on her ended up talking her into doing all kinds of crazy shit like sucking him off while he fingered her ass. He even made her piss on his stomach while he worked himself up. He never wanted to stick it in because he was married and didn’t want to cheat on his wife with a kid. He had told Illusion that he had a Social Security check he hadn’t cashed yet in his pocket for $800. But after everything was all said and done, he didn’t have shit on him but some change. So just like that, sixty dollars walked off, and she was left with his come smeared all over her chest and chin. So money first became her golden rule. She wasn’t that strung out teenager like she was back in the day, selling her ass for weed, clothes, and new kicks. It was a new day. If it wasn’t speaking dollars, then it wasn’t speaking at all.

  Muhedio walked over to his pants that were strewn on the floor. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. As soon as he opened it, Illusion spotted at least five credit cards. She batted her lashes when he held up six crisp $100 bills.

  “See, I keeps money, baby.” He waved the money in her face. “Muhedio wouldn’t cheat the pretty lady.” He handed Illusion all six of them, putting her mind at ease. “Keep the change. I know you’ll be more than worth it,” he spoke confidently, sucking in his bottom lip while he imagined all the positions he would be flipping her in. Now that the business was done, they could get down to it. “What are we about to do?” he asked Illusion, joining her in the bed.

  Illusion pushed in the light switch on the lamp, turning the room pitch black. Inside, she was turning cartwheels because she knew she had lucked up and hit the jackpot. Now, all she had to do was cash his ass in. With the money balled tightly in her hands, she told him, “You are about to lie back and enjoy this ride.” She crawled over him, bowing between his legs. She parted her lips, slid out her tongue, and wrapped it tightly around every fraction of his stiffening ten inches. She deep-throated him like the professional she was. No amateur shit. One lick and swallow and Illusion knew he’d be ready to change his religion. His dick was exceptionally long, harder than tree lumber, and the biggest thing swinging in Texas. But Illusion couldn’t allow herself to lose focus. This was business. Pleasure hitched a ride off her train a long time ago.

  Three nuts, sore jaws, and an ass fucking like never before had Muhedio out like a light. He was sound asleep, and it couldn’t have happened soon enough. Lying next to him and pondering her next move was all Illusion could do. She wondered if Fletch was still driving up and down the strip looking for her, or if he decided to run home to the new chick of the week that occupied his late nights. She even wondered if Ty’s eye was still bulging out of the socket, looking as though somebody played ice hockey on her face. She tried her hardest to hold in her laugh at the image she saw clearly in her mind.

  Ppppffff!

  Illusion turned her nose up. “I know this motherfucker didn’t just fart,” she cursed under her breath in disbelief.

  Ppppffff!

  Illusion couldn’t take it. He had done it again. She clamped her nose together with her fingers and held her breath. She inched her feet to the floor and slid off the bed slowly. Then she pulled the sheets back over Muhedio’s shoulders and got ready to make her break. It was cool while it lasted, but she was running a tight schedule, and whether or not he knew it, he had already maxed out his playtime. She wasn’t trying to turn Hooker to Housewife, and this damn sure wasn’t a Pretty Woman scene. He could save that shit for the next ho waiting in line behind her because she had moves to make, tricks to fuck, and money to get.

  She threw her clothes on so fast that she hardly realized her dress was turned inside out, and she could have cared less. She had to get the fuck up out of there, pronto.

  Muhedio’s pants lay there in front of her with his wallet partially hanging out and in clear view. She bent down slowly and held her breath for
as long as she could to keep from inhaling the long lost rat that crawled up his ass and died. As her sore knees popped, she quietly slipped his wallet under her arm. Then she fished for his car keys and quickly grabbed her purse. She kept her eyes on him as she backed her way to the door. Silently, she turned the knob slowly to the left. When she could hear the slight screech in the hinges, she slipped through the crack and bounced faster than a double-dribble half-court play with six seconds left on the clock.

  8

  Chyna’s hotline buzzed like crazy in the cup holder. It startled Sand who had dozed off. Chyna hooked her earpiece over her ear and then hit the side button to answer it.

  “Yeah?”

  “Chyna, man, I don’t know where the fuck Illusion at. Her and Ty got into it tonight. Fighting and shit, busting out my windows. Man, just going crazy!” Fletch rattled off, completely unaware that Chyna was already abreast of the situation.

  “And where is Illusion now?”

  “Man, I’m rolling ’round out here, and I don’t see her ass. I don’t know where the fuck she at right about now.” Fletch was looking around as he drove up and down the street. Weren’t too many black folks loitering in the area this early in the morning, so all he had to do was look for a tall, black female with a big ass and too-big-to-be-real titties, in a short, tight red dress.

  “Well, keep looking until you find her,” Chyna told him in her sternest of voices. “I want Illusion back at the house tonight. Whatever it takes.”

  If Chyna could have seen Fletch, she would have caught him mouthing the word “bitch” at her. He didn’t have time for this shit tonight. He wasn’t running a damn day care.

  “And who in the hell told you to leave her there?” Chyna wasn’t letting him off the hook.

  Sand listened intently as she engaged in a heated discussion.

  Fletch had some explaining to do, and he didn’t know where the fuck to begin. “Her and Ty kept going at it like nonstop and—” The rest of what he had to say got lost along the way.

  Chyna cut him off before he could piss her off any more than he already had. She rephrased her question so maybe he could interpret it better. “Who in the fuck told you to leave her there?” Her pitch dropped a few octaves.

  “Man, Ty was bitching and shit and wouldn’t let her in the damn car. That’s when—” he stopped, realizing that his poor attempts of reiterating what went down were pointless.

  Chyna had to take a breather before she completely lost it. She spoke calmly, resurrecting every angry spirit that consumed her. “Fletch, if Illusion ain’t back at the house in an hour, it’s your ass. Ya feel what I’m saying? Now get off my phone,” her lips moved in slow motion, “and go find my bitch!” She disconnected the call.

  Sand sat up, fully awake now after overhearing every bit of Chyna’s fiasco. She couldn’t figure out how a chick that looked like Chyna and donned all the feminine qualities a woman could possess could put die-hard fear in people’s hearts the way she managed to do. But once she thought about it, it wasn’t about the looks in this particular industry. It was about your rank. If you had street credibility, your name alone was a threat, without anybody ever having to see your face.

  Chyna pulled into the Silverman Estates, where not one house in the division was valued at anything less than a million dollars. She punched in her code, then drove past the iron security gates as they began opening for her. Her MTV cribs look-alike was a two-story ranch-style, mini stucco mansion with well over 15,000 square feet of living space. There were parts of the house that not even she saw on a daily basis. It was the home where she housed all of her hoes who meant anything to her. Hoes that were costly to replace. Hoes that she kept under her radar.

  As they entered the four-car garage, Sand eyed the impeccable fleet of foreign selections. All a different year, color, and price. She followed Chyna through a side door that led them through a mazed walkway and into an open view and rounded kitchen. They made their way through the dark and quiet house. Everyone had to be asleep. Sand found her way to the brown leather sofa, hoping to get comfortable enough to rest her head until daylight came. She lay her head back and flipped up the footrest. Then she took off her cap and placed it over her face.

  Chyna was walking around flipping on every light switch she walked past. She made her way over to the spiral staircase where she began peeling off her clothes, stripping down to just her white sheer bra and matching thong. The heels of her shoes echoed off the twenty-foot vaulted ceilings as she climbed each step with dangerous anticipation. She made her way down the elongated hallway, her stream of hair bouncing against her back with every stride. She peeked into three rooms before entering the one where Ty had been sound asleep.

  Only a scented night-light plug-in offered her a full view of all the injuries Illusion had inflicted upon her property. A minute later, Ty’s entire body was yanked and dragged from beneath the sheets.

  In an instant reaction, Ty grabbed and pulled at the tightness being roped around her neck. She couldn’t scream, only wince in agonizing pain while trying to figure out what the hell was going on. She grabbed and plucked at what she thought might have been a rope but instead, had been the extension cord from the nearby wall socket.

  “You think you running shit, huh? You in charge now, Ty?” Chyna screamed like a drill sergeant.

  Ty shook her head, and her eyes pleaded with Chyna who was seething over her. Tears rushed down Ty’s face, hunting for mercy, but they only made Chyna draw the cord tighter. Ty’s veins strained themselves against her neck and forehead as her face flushed in multiple shades of reds.

  “You in charge, Ty?” Chyna screamed again, this time waking all the girls in the house. “Ho, you running my fucking show now?”

  The girls all ran out of their rooms to see what was going on, praying and hoping that they weren’t next. They watched Ty laid out in the room on the floor with the black ten-foot cord wrapped around her throat and wondered what she could have possibly done to deserve the late-night ass beating.

  Ty kicked her feet, knocking over everything they touched. Her cut and bruised face burned like fire, and her blackened eye was swollen shut. The girls gathered just outside their doors, facing the stairway and bearing witness to Ty’s punishment, some seeing Ty’s wounds for the very first time, having no clue that they were the markings from an earlier altercation. For all they knew, Chyna had caused them all, which terrified them even more.

  Chyna nodded her head vigorously, “Oh yeah, Ty running shit now,” she repeated madly, dragging Ty across the carpet by the electrical cord and down the hallway.

  The women gathered around each other in panties and bras, some in neither. A few had silk scarves and bandannas tied around their heads, protecting their latest investments. Like a horse, Chyna raised Ty to her feet, then dragged her down the flight of stairs, backward, in a choke hold grip.

  Sand jumped up when she heard all the crying and commotion leave from upstairs and make its way down. She was soon witnessing Chyna wrestle Ty to the floor. “Chyna, what you doing?” Sand asked, seeing how Ty’s face was all beat up.

  “Sand, stay out of this! This between me and my bitch,” Chyna warned, overpowering Ty’s strength. Chyna could hear her earpiece ringing in her ear. She didn’t have her phone to see who it was but with her earpiece programmed to autoanswer, it came on after the fourth ring. Chyna hoped it was Fletch calling back to tell her he’d found Illusion. But it was not Fletch that she heard screaming in her ear. It was a woman.

  “Chyna, come on. Stop it. That’s enough,” Sand kept telling her. “Let me pay you off whatever she owe you.” Sand couldn’t bear to watch. “She can’t even breathe like that.”

  Chyna had Ty laid out in the middle of the floor for everyone to see. She wanted them all to receive the message loud and clear. Even the woman in her ear was constantly yelling for her to stop without any idea of what was happening. She finally began unraveling the cord. Not because she gave a fuck that everyone
was yelling for her to stop, but because she didn’t want to scratch up her merchandise any more than it already was. That shit had to be resold. She had calls lined up for Ty for the rest of the week, and she’d be damned if she was about to lose any money over her and Illusion’s stupid asses. She was already calculating how much she would be out if Illusion didn’t show up for the gig she had hired her out for the following night. Chyna was riding on ten grand that she’d already collected from her client as down payment. Half of the product he needed was packaged away in a leather guitar case, and the other half was walking around Dallas.

  Ty struggled to turn to her side. She clutched her throat and immediately started choking on phlegm and blood. Her sobs turned into violent screams after finally catching her breath. Chyna squatted over her. She pinned Ty down until she was flat on her backside, and then roughly began yanking off her bra and panties.

  Sand stood back feeling helpless. She couldn’t watch what she felt Chyna was about to do to Ty, as if beating her to the ground and almost strangling her to death wasn’t enough. Sand turned her head. She felt sorry for the poor girl.

  Ty lay unclothed and groaning in pain with her fists balled tightly at her sides. She was boiling over with anger. Although she was only able to see out of one eye, she knew everybody was there, watching from upstairs and ignoring her cries for help. They wouldn’t dare run to her rescue for fear of what Chyna might do to them.

  Chyna paired two fingers, then roughly shoved them into Ty’s dry opening without warning.

  Ty’s body jerked, and the muscles in her stomach tightened. “Aghh!” she hollered.

  Breathing down Ty’s neck, Chyna yelled, “You feel that? This is mines. I own every piece of pussy that walks around this motherfucka!” Chyna pumped her fingers into Ty faster and harder than before until her cold fingers folded into a fist, turning Ty’s vagina into her own personal punching bag.