Cuts of My Life (The Chronicles of Enhanced Males Book 2)

by Doc King

  He’s still not convinced.

  - You know that feeling when you walk down the street with a pleasant itch in your lower stomach and thighs, because your penis is so loaded with energy, spreading through every part of your body? And women walking your way smile at you because they instinctively notice that confidence in your eyes and movement.

  - I haven’t felt that in a while. – he smiles somewhat bitterly.

  He takes the card from my hand and puts it in his pocket. We raise our glasses and toast, winking at each other, like accomplices.

  Greg’s plan for finishing the bottle proves to be easy to realize, as we toast and laugh.

  - I was just saying to my friend how the two of you seem to be having the most fun of all the people in the bar. – says a red-haired girl, pronouncing the word “friend” with a Southern Drawl.

  And her friend, with a pretty, pale face and long, straight black hair with bangs is standing next to her, giving us a sort of a greedy look, with too much mascara on her lashes.

  - Would you mind if we joined you? – asks the Southerner.

  - No M-am. – I respond in her accent and offer her my chair.

  Greg gets up from his chair and waves at the bartender.

  The girls sit down and order drinks; the redhead orders a Mai Tai, the black-haired girl orders a beer. Underneath the full red lips, she’s hiding somewhat crooked teeth. I’ve always had a thing for that.

  - By the way, I’m Mary Beth, and this is Leah. – says the redhead and continues blabbering.

  She’s looking at me the whole time, but my buddy down there is getting hot for her black-haired friend. Pale complexion, red lips, and excessive makeup. There’s something appealing about that gothic look. Greg seems to have read my mind, so he starts charming the Southern belle. I’m putting the moves on the black-haired girl, but she doesn’t really say much. She’s just smiling and giving me a lustful look with her big blue eyes.

  ***

  After a few drinks, the girls take us to their place. They’re roommates and they live a few blocks from the bar. Greg isn’t a party-pooper this time. He’s walking before me, holding his arm around Mary Beth’s waist. His hand occasionally slides down to her round ass squeezed into a red dress, but, every time, she giggles and moves it instantly.

  Leah and I are not hugging. I keep my hands in my pockets, and she lets hers fall down to her sides. I ask something from time to time, but her answers are laconic and we spend most of the walk in silence. It doesn’t matter; I hope she’s in the mood for sex. By the way she’s looking at me, I’d say that she’s up for it.

  The two of us are stuck with the couch, while Mary Beth and Greg are already getting it on in the bedroom. I see them through the half-open door. She’s lying on her back, like a board, and Greg is doing all the work. Mary Beth doesn’t even moan. She’s just looking at the ceiling with a blank expression on her face. She’s wrapped her legs around Greg’s waist and she’s following his rhythm. That’s all she’s doing.

  It’s odd, really. From a girl who walks up to you in a bar, flirts openly, with a screw-my-brains-out look in her eyes, she turns out to be a zombie in bed. The worst thing is: that happens really often. Poor Greg.

  Likewise, the quiet ones can turn out to be quite a surprise as well. My girl didn’t say ten words the whole evening, but as soon as she took her clothes off, I knew what I’m in for. She’s wearing garters, she’s got a black sleeve tattoo across her left forearm. Also, below her neck she has an inscription in Gaelic, and on her right shoulder blade she’s got a leopard pattern. Both of her nipples are pierced and I notice the same kind of piercing down there when she takes off her panties and I start licking her pussy. She’s got a sort of a sharp flavor.

  Then she knocks me down onto the couch and rides me. She slaps my face with her hair and I can see that she’s got an undercut. She’s shaking the ground with her hips. This is fucking awesome. One of the best experiences I’ve ever had.

  Through our moans, I hear Greg let out a loud aaaahhh. I sneak a peek into the room. He’s lying on top of Mary Beth, who might as well be polishing her nails. Meanwhile, Leah is fucking my brains out. Or vice versa. It’s all so savage. We switch positions and knock over a floor lamp in the process. We have moved the couch almost to the front door. I cum in her mouth. She doesn’t run to the bathroom to spit it out, but continues looking at me the way a person on hunger strike would look at chicken wings. She’s got some strange eyes. Somehow possessive and cursed.

  She stands up and goes to the other room. Then Greg walks into the living room. Mary Beth stays sitting on the bed behind him. I pull the covers over my penis.

  - Hey, Greg. – I’m smiling. – How was it?

  - Hey, Mark. – he looks kind of down. – Good. It was ok.

  I know it wasn’t. It was like fucking a frozen halibut.

  - I don’t mean to rush you, Mark, but I’d like to get going. I’ve got a lot work to do tomorrow. I believe you do, too.

  - Of course, just wait till I get dressed. – I accept his suggestion since the party is obviously over.

  - You’re not going anywhere. – I hear a voice behind me.

  Greg looks that way in shock. I turn around. Leah is wearing a leather corset, even more makeup, and a whip in one hand and a ball gag in the other. I smile instinctively.

  - No, really, I have to… - Greg continues.

  - Silence, slave! On your knees! – Leah goes from quiet to hysterical. She’s not emo, she’s a gothic domino.

  - Mark? – Greg’s eyes are begging me that we leave.

  This is one of those situations where you know you should get up and leave, but you have never tried something like that, and you’re not sure it will happen again. And you should try everything life has to offer. Seize every moment.

  - You go, Greg. I’ll stay a bit longer.

  - Are you sure?

  - I am. It will be fun.

  - However you wish. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. – he says and gives us all another look before he walks out the door.

  - Just be quiet. – says the dull Mary Beth.

  Not a trace of that fire from the bar. She takes some orange juice to the bedroom and shuts the door.

  Leah drags me into her bedroom. It’s dark, but, as far as I can tell, even if it were day, everything would still be in dark shades. Only two thick red candles are burning, melting like blood over skull-shaped candelabra.

  - It’s nice in here…

  - Silence, slave! – she screams and cracks her whip right next to me. I flinch at the crack.

  She knocks me down onto the bed and starts sliding her lips across my chest. She rolls her tongue around my nipple and then bites it. Too hard. I scream.

  - Silence! You’re too loud, slave. – she says and puts the ball gag in my mouth.

  Then she ties my hands to the frame of the bed above my head, using straps she prepared earlier. She ties my legs the same way. I break out in sweat, because I don’t like losing control. I’m not sure this was a good idea. Everything’s fine, Mark, don’t panic. A new experience. It will be all right.

  As if she can feel the tension building up inside me, Leah puts her lips back on my skin and slides them gently around my navel. I get an instant hard-on. She takes it in her hand and moves her lips from my stomach to my cock. Oh, fuck. She gives such a good head. I’m trying to tell her she’s going too fast, but all I can produce is mumbling.

  Leah stretches her arm across my chest and grabs something from the nightstand. She opens it in her hand. Reddish light dances on the blade. Fucking razor. No! Bitch, let me go. I swear and curse, but mghmmgnngh! is all that’s coming from my mouth.

  She takes the razor and runs the blunt side of the blade across my stomach. I shiver under the touch of cold steel. She circles it around the penis and the testicles. Just one wrong move and I’ll be singing soprano. Oh, fuck, what have I gotten myself into? I should have read it in her eyes. The chick is FUCKING crazy.

&
nbsp; She slides the razor upwards. Circling around the nipples. I’m breaking out in a cold sweat, but if she must cut something, I prefer this over peeing sitting down for the rest of my life. She raises the razor to my neck. Shit!

  I move my wrists so I could loosen the straps around my hands. She slides the sharp side of the blade across my cheek. I feel something warm running down my chin and neck. She’s cut me. The bitch’s cut me.

  I shake my arms fiercely so I could break free. She raises the bloody razor and cuts herself on the tattooed forearm, and then licks the blade. She brings it closer to me again. Fuck, if she cuts me, I’ll catch something for sure. The chick must be an encyclopedia of STDs.

  At that moment, I somehow loosen the leather straps and free the left hand and then the right. I grab her wrist and knock the razor out of her hand. Then I push her off the bed and start untying my legs in panic.

  - What’s the matter? – she’s surprised. – I thought you liked it?

  - Mhmnnghh – I take the ball out of my mouth. – You fucking bitch, you’ve cut me.

  - Well, asshole, what did you expect?

  - I sure as hell didn’t expect to end up fucking Norman Bates.

  - Fuck you, you boor. Get out!

  Gladly. I pick up my stuff in a hurry and run out into the street. Into the safety of the night. The rush of adrenaline leaves me uncertain whether I should laugh or cry. This is what you would call living on the razor’s edge. Literally. I’ve tried something new, checked it off the list. But I won’t be doing it ever again.

  I check my phone. Five missed calls from Greg. It’s too late to call him back.

  At home, in the mirror, I see the cut on my left cheek, covered in dried blood. I rinse it out. It’s not that big, but it’s still impossible not to notice it. I apply some antiseptic and cover it with a Band-Aid. I wonder how many people the lunatic has cut like this before. I only hope she disinfects the razor. A shiver goes down my spine at the thought of all the diseases that may already be in my system in case she doesn’t.

  ***

  I wake up with a nasty hangover. The combination of alcohol, dehydration, and the last night’s adrenaline avalanche, makes pressure build up inside my head, resulting in throbbing pain. I take two aspirins. The cut under the Band-Aid hasn’t healed yet. I apply some more of that skin disinfectant and cover the cut with a clean Band-Aid. I shave beforehand, just to have an alibi.

  As soon as they see me at work, everyone asks about the Band-Aid stretching from near my cheekbone to the corner of my mouth. Shaving accident, I say.

  Laura gives me a warm welcome. I find that pleasant for the first time in a while. She winks at me after I lie about the cause of the cut.

  - I tried to shave with a razor, like a real alfa male, but I lack the skills.

  - You don’t have to lose half of your face to prove you are an alfa male. – she laughs at me.

  I know she doesn’t believe me. I smile and walk into my office.

  As soon as I sit down, my phone starts ringing. It’s Greg.

  - Jesus, Mark. You got me worried last night. You haven’t returned any of my calls.

  - Sorry, Greg. It was already too late when I looked at my phone.

  - How did it go? Did you survive?

  - I managed somehow. – I laugh.

  - I don’t know. I could just kick myself for leaving you there last night. With those people… You never know how far they’re ready to go.

  - I got away on time. When things got sharp.

  We both laugh.

  - Listen, how about drinks tonight?

  - Thanks, Greg, but I’ve got a date with my couch tonight. I’m beat.

  - Ok then. Enjoy. Talk to you later, Mark.

  After the conversation, I schedule an appointment with my team. Now that I’ve got my project back, I should really step on the gas and have everyone do their utmost, especially me. I’ve got a pair of aces in my hand, but no face-up cards on the table. I go all in before the flop. Hoping that the face-down cards hold another ace or two. That takes giant balls. If I mess up, I lose everything.

  I’m in for an unpleasant surprise when I gather them in my office. There are four of them. Three missing. They say Bryan has Eric and Lydia working on his projects. Fran has also been “reassigned” and is working on an independent project. Three of the most important players in my team.

  Rob is here. So is Liu. Good. The two of them themselves are as valuable as four associates, but they need someone to constantly remind them of that. Jessica and Brandon are also here. Fresh and inexperienced. But that’s all I’ve got.

  I’m annoyed by this course of events. I try not to show it as I phone Angela. I speak formally.

  - Hello, Angela. I have just been informed about the personnel changes in my team. Yes. I understand. Can I count on two more? I need a more experienced project manager. Aha. I get it. All right. Thank you, Angela.

  Bryan has really decided to finish me. I’m even more certain of it now, after the yesterday’s meeting. I look at my timid team. That’s really all I’ve got. It will require immense effort to motivate them, because they’ve got quality, but no self-confidence.

  - Ok, crew... – I always talk to them informally and casually – it seems that we’re on our own. But it’s not the end of the world, because all the best people are here.

  Good. They’re smiling. Insecurely, but hey, that’s something.

  - Everything’s riding on this project. My fate, maybe yours, too, because I’m not sure how much your unquestionable qualities are appreciated by others in here.

  Better. They’re beginning to fidget and take a more confident stance.

  - We will all have to take on more work, because there are those who are trying to throw a wrench in our works and throw us off the track. But the people I see in front of me can do more than anyone else in the company.

  Great. They’re already relaxed. Smiling.

  I continue working on them and winning them over. It takes me twenty minutes of pep talk to get them to thaw out. Now I need a new project manager. My choice is Liu, a beautiful Asian girl and an absolute genius, but she’s not sure she’ll be able to carry the weight of the entire project on her frail shoulders. She’s got lovely dimples in her cheeks, once I manage to make her smile and convince her she’s the right choice.

  That’s it.

  We spend almost three hours talking and tossing ideas around. My team has great vision and is taking the project exactly where it’s supposed to go. All the pieces are falling into place, but it’s too early to celebrate. I shake hands with everyone on their way out. We’re all more than satisfied. Especially me, because after everything that happened yesterday, things are looking up again.

  - Is that your geek squad? – asks Laura, using the term commonly used among the envious average employees at ThinkBean. I’m not sure if Laura’s one of them, or just teasing me.

  - Yeah, that’s my awesome team that will help me conquer the world. – I wink at her.

  Down the hall, I see Gareth Foley. He’s standing with some gray-haired gentleman and a gorgeous female figure wearing something tight. Gareth waves me over when he notices me. Good, now I can meet the girl he’s talking to.

  - Mr. Baron, this is the Mark I was telling you about. The most promising manager at ThinkBean.

  Samuel Baron, from Gate Pharmaceuticals. I shake his cold, smooth hand. But what I want to know is who’s standing to Gareth’s left.

  Her raven black hair is combed into a bun. No excessive makeup or bright red lips, but just a soft, smoky shadow above her eyes and salmon-colored lipstick on her lips. She’s wearing cat-eye glasses and a discreet retro suit jacket instead of leather. She’s holding a folder, not a razor. My last night’s hostess. Leah.

  - Allow me to introduce you to my legal advisor, Miss Palmer. – says Baron.

  Her eyes go dark with anger, but she doesn’t let a single muscle in her face show it.

  - Nice to meet you. – she gives
me a lovely smile and shakes my hand. – A shaving accident?

  - Um, yeah. – I stutter.

  - Be careful. I’ve heard that due to improper handling of a razor, many people have gone a lot worse than you have.

  They leave me standing in the hallway, feeling like crap.

  Fucking shit. I wonder if Baron knows what his legal advisor looks like underneath that formal clothes. Strangely enough, the thought of her pierced and tattooed body and her dualistic nature arouses me instantly.

  I said I’ll never do stuff like that again, but one should never say never.

  My phone starts vibrating and rouses me from my thoughts. I see Alice’s name on the display. She hasn’t called me in a while. I don’t answer, but walk towards my office, and wait for it to stop buzzing. As soon as I go inside, the phone starts buzzing again. This time, I decide to answer.

  - Hello?

  - Why didn’t you call me? You told me that you’d call me? Remember?

  - Alice... I thought that we have nothing else to talk about. That we have already said everything we had to each other.