3 Grams: An Addictive Novella

by Krihstin Zink

  Zora designated herself as our hairstylist while Gia covered our faces with bullshit girlie makeup. I gawked in disbelief at the unknown made-up face that pouted back from my reflection. For a brief moment, I felt as if my mask would shield me of our uncertain future.

  “Here, Dolls—these will be perfect,” Birdie announced with glee as she marched toward us with various-colored laced lingerie.

  FZG and Lena appeared comfortable in their new outfits, since it resembled something they would have worn to work the pole. Unlike them, I felt uncomfortable: it just seemed wrong to see myself in makeup and lingerie.

  My pretty-boy hairstyle had been slicked back; and I stood in complete disbelief while I gawked at my strange reflection.

  “Babe, you look hotter than Posh Spice.” Lena leaned in and grabbed my lace-covered ass. I gaped in awe at my reflection: I had become an unknown version of myself. From my dark, gelled hair to my dramatic eye makeup and pouty lips; and the tight teal pantyhose body suit—I had transformed from O to Ophelia Santos.

  In that moment, I resembled the female I had always fought to hide. My plagued thoughts vanished when Lena’s hand cupped my ass while she whispered lustful profanity-laced pick-up lines against my neck, “Damn, O . . . I want you so much right now.”

  For a split second, we forgot our looming dates; and we kissed as if it had been any morning of blazed and stupefying sex. I grazed a hand up her exposed back, then held her by her neck, making sure to avoid her up-do.

  We kissed until Birdie coughed and interrupted us, “Save all that lust for your dates.” Birdie fanned her feathered boa in our direction.

  “I wish we were anywhere else.” Lena’s eyes matched the sadness in her words.

  “Y’all come this way—” Birdie waved us to follow her to her chaise. She shook her shoulders as she wiggled her ass against the chaise’s back.

  “Let’s smoke a few more before y’all go on your dates. Remember: Y’all are fucking for your freedom. It doesn’t matter who you get—fat, ugly, or stank—y’all need to work it. The quicker y’all make that 30G . . . the quicker y’all get to leave this hell.” Birdie lit two bud cigs and passed one to me and the other to Fi. Between six heads, those two joints didn’t last long.

  Our chunky stripper hooves clinked-and-clanked behind Birdie’s size XL 70s style platforms. We gathered in a sports huddle while Birdie prepped us on our first clients. She reminded us that we had to fuck for our freedom—we had no other choice.

  “Don’t even bother pleadin’ with them to rescue you,” Birdie’s tone and face hardened as she straightened up.

  “If you endanger his operation, El Diablo will sell you to a place that is far worse than this—this is Candy Land compared to the other brothels that are out there. All clients enter blind-folded and through a secret door, so they wouldn’t be able to even help y’all. However, they’re under the impression that this is just another brothel, so it’s in your best interest to be good.” Birdie signaled for FZG to enter a cantaloupe-colored door to our right.

  “Y’all do him just right,” she said, just as a glimpse of red wall-paint became visible from the cracked door. A fruity aroma whiffed from the room as the door sealed shut.

  “Now, y’all follow me.” Birdie’s plump ass sashayed in front of us while Lena and I followed her. Oddly, she had a thin frame—but a phat ass.

  Her fingers wiggled, gesturing towards the door to my right, as she instructed, “That one?” I gulped, unable to move because my heavy, bricklike feet failed to move a centimeter. My heart thumped louder than The Clubhouse’s speakers . . . and at one point, I thought I’d barf on myself because anxiety pulsated a surge of adrenaline through my body.

  Once I reached my designated door, I glanced over my shoulder and my heart ached when I found Lena’s disc-sized eyes that filled with a fearful sadness. Her head hung low as she disappeared into her assigned red-room of pleasure.

  “Doll, you better get up in there—and work that pussy!” Birdie snapped her fingers and then shoved at my shoulder until I held the frosty doorknob of uncertainty in my hand.

  I had to fuck for my freedom because I had no other choice.

  Ruby red walls greeted me as I stepped into a room with an oversized bed, which had been centered and against the wall. To the left, a black leather loveseat drew my attention; and to the right, a chest stood next to another door. At first, I believed I had been alone and that someone would later enter the room to use me as El Diablo had. My racing heart consumed my blazed attention, until I noticed red raspberry candles that burned with a luring scent from the engraved cherry-wood chest.

  Out of habit, I shut and locked the door—but sprang back when a blindfolded, tuxedo-dressed, wimp-sized boy waited in a corner. He had to be a loser to pay females to sleep with him. Frankly, dudes with fat cocks and swagger galore—never pay for vag.

  My anger raged, and I considered kicking and digging my stripper shoe into his gut; but my fear of what would have happened to Lena and FZG had kept me from acting out. Honestly, I felt no type of physical attraction; and as I stared at him—I realized he obviously couldn’t have been more than twenty-years-old.

  I cautiously slipped out of my stripper shoes and dropped to his height. Prayers cycled in my mind: Please, Lord—don’t let him be under age. I wiggled my fingers centimeters from his face, but he didn’t respond and continued to stand with his arms hanging at his sides.

  As I drew closer, I noticed that my height had him beat by an inch or two. To yank the Band-Aid of uncertainty off that horrible situation, I tugged at his blindfold until we stood eye-to-eye.

  His vibrant turquoise-colored eyes mesmerized me until I blurted out, “But . . . you’re a baby. Why are you here—in this place? Paying . . . For me? You can’t get a lil’ tweeny-bopper from your school? It’s not like you’re ugly, shiiit.”

  He brushed at his tuxedo and cleared his throat. “Naw—I’m twenty-four, and you’re my birthday present.” His hands rushed to my sides and looped around my waist. Drool dripped from his damp lips, as he nipped at each of my erect nipples. I intensely fought the urge to uppercut him while I reminded myself that I would have to fuck him, and many others, in order to achieve my freedom.

  A thick and impenetrable field of numbness kept me from protesting while he guided us towards the bed.

  “I didn’t expect all of this. Fuck. You’re fucking hawt. And all the tattoos—my dick is throbbing for you.” He fumbled and explored—his clumsiness revealed his novice status.

  “Mmm,” he moaned as he sniffed and roamed all of me.

  “How do you take this off?” he questioned, tugging at my body suit—until I slipped out of it, and calmed my mind with the fact that although I didn’t want to be there . . . he hadn’t forced me. To him, I had just been another everyday purchase, like a morning cup of coffee.

  “Fuck. You smell . . . and taste like forbidden fruit.” He slopped a wet hot mess against my clit, and I fought the boredom as he moaned louder than me when he finally caused a mild-pelvic tremble. Of course, I had faked the level of pleasure while I imagined any one besides that boney-ass stick who moaned the loudest of them all.

  “Ahhh! Yes! There—right there—you got it!” I yelled until the tiniest orgasm shivered from me.

  I had to hold my laughter in as he fumbled to apply a condom. Without asking, he climbed on top of me and almost plugged my ass.

  “Nope. Wrong hole, buddy.” I grabbed his average cock, guiding him to the correct entrance.

  “Oh, shit. Fuck. Fuuuck,” he howled like a wounded dog, pounding at me like a butcher to a piece of tough meat.

  “Ohh—ohh . . . Shiiit!” he growled as he filled the condom.

  “Good job,” I encouraged, patting at his back.

  “Was it . . . was I . . . good?” His youthful stare dimmed as he searched my face for lies that I struggled to form.

  In my mind, I totally told him the truth; but the
sincerity in his turquoise eyes kept me from being mean to him. The softness in his young face, kindled a smidge of kindness toward him. No matter how much I wanted to—I couldn’t be mean to him.

  “It was a nice try, honey.” I gave his shoulder a pat-like shove and waited for him to move off of me.

  “Oh.” He diverted his gaze to the bathroom, huffing as he slid off me.

  “Fuuck—I’m tired of being the loser.” He covered his face with a pillow, and instantly I felt horrible for not boosting his confidence. Guilt burned at my eyes as I fought back a strange tenderness that had never surfaced before.

  Lena and my bubble-berry bud had always held my focus. Frankly, I could have cared less about anyone else: my parents and sisters—fuck’em! Until that day, I had been selfish and fixated on what pleased me. But then, that needy twig, who sulked next to me, had induced a remorse that I never thought would develop within my heart.

  “I guess . . . you could try again?”

  With a wide-eyed gaze, he perked up and blurted out, “Really?”

  He shifted his weight, scooting in closer, and then he grazed his fingers down my cheek. His lust-filled gaze fixated on my eyes while he pressed his smooth thumb against my lip, open-ing it just a bit before he lingered his touch past my tits and down to my clit.

  “I’ll do better this time.” His urgent lips smashed against mine as he ventured from my mouth and down to my neck.

  “These tits . . . are unnaturally perfect,” he mumbled, covering my skin with his sloppy lips.

  “I’ll be right back.” He stumbled off of my lips and tumbled towards the edge of the bed; then he dug into his tuxedo’s pockets.

  After he wiggled into the second condom, his stare held my attention while he crawled towards me. I anxiously held my breath because I felt that if I exhaled I would have lost my cool.

  “Tell me how you like it,” he moaned, and then thrust into me while his hands frantically explored my quivering body.

  The second and third round had been an improvement compared to his first fumbled attempt. His lips tenderly surged against mine while he plunged in-and-out, passionately engulfing me with his heated hands.

  “You’re phenomenal.” His touch grazed from my tits to my ass.

  Within hours, two strangers’ bodies became enamored . . . and as we quaked against each other, I slowly forgot El Diablo’s harsh attack.

  Covered in sweat and panting from exhaustion, we bared our naked souls while we trembled against each other.

  “Fuuuck. I never want to leave.” His sincere stare induced a questionable internal sentiment. For a moment we rested, intertwining on top of that fitted burgundy sheet.

  “Better?” He huffed as he drifted his hand from my rapidly thudding heart to my heated navel.

  His deep turquoise eyes gleamed like the Sun beaming on the sea’s surface while a gentle kindness emitted from his stare. I relaxed, totally forgetting everything outside of that room.

  During that glimpse in time, I only thought of us—but not romantically. I had considered that . . . I could have survived if he would have been the only one I had to sleep with.

  He rolled and kicked his feet off the bed, then offered, “Let’s soak, so that I can rub you down with soap. I’ve always wanted to do that . . . By the way—my name’s Alec Dupont.” He winked, extending his hand out for me.

  Someone hollered, banging from the bedroom door, “Times almost up!”

  “Fuuuck. That wasn’t long enough—I’m not ready to end things with you.” Alec’s eyes resembled Lena’s when she’d questioned how I felt about her.

  Lena.

  A pit churned at my stomach as guilt flooded through me, smacking me into reality. How could I have just forgotten about her?

  “What’s wrong? Do you want our time to be over?” Disappointment darkened his eyes as his shoulders slumped.

  “No—no . . . it’s not you.” I shook my past life away, and focused on fucking for my freedom. My reality had been clear: I had to fake it until I could escape, even if it meant I had to continue with Alec.

  “Cool. My father’s old money can pay for our time.” With a confidence he had yet to show, Alec swaggered his way toward the door and gave instructions I couldn’t hear.

  Before him, I hadn’t fucked a guy like Alec. His ambition to please me pulled me in to a place of comfort. He didn’t care about my background or how I spent my time; he only wanted to connect his body with mine.

  Alec returned to the bed, and with an unexpected strength—he lifted and then carried me into the connected bathroom. “Let’s soak.” Pride shone from his wide grin as he marched us past a porcelain sink and toilet, and then gently placed me into a claw-foot tub.

  I leaned forward and tapped the faucet handle, and then I shifted to add nearby bath liquid. He stepped in behind me, as a Cherry Blossom aroma soothed from the forming bubbles that surrounded us. Alec’s hands firmly rubbed at my back and shoulders.

  For a brief moment, I allowed my mind to relax while we soaked in the bubble-filled tub. My buzz had drifted away; and I savored the moment as I leaned against Alec’s chest. Without provocation, a chest-shaking laugh choked at my throat.

  “What?” His question hummed from my right ear.

  “I . . . I just thought you’d be some old, cheating husband, who had a fat gut and limp dick.” More laughter shook from my chest, and it felt good—for the first time in twenty-four hours I felt free to enjoy the moment.

  Hendrix had sold us like a bag of bud, then El Diablo had pimped me to Alec. Through it all, I knew that no matter the obstacles thrown my way—I had the choice to stay focused on the silver lining. It could have been worse: we could have ended up in the awful place that Birdie mentioned.

  I quickly viewed Alec as a teachable lover; and his tender kindness had lessened my fear of continuing in Hell’s brothel.

  After we rinsed the bubbles away, he helped me out of the tub and wrapped me in a towel.

  “You’re like no one I’ve ever seen—I know I should be ashamed to have purchased you, but I feel like it was the only way I’d ever be with anyone as lovely as you.” His cheeks blushed as he stepped closer to my face.

  “Do you like that?” His warm breath against my neck caused my skin to tighten.

  Our bodies spoke a universal language while he fingered me against the bathroom wall.

  “I need more,” he moaned as his cock connected with my palm, and I pulled-and-pulled until he felt ready. I became his sex professor, and he attentively found all my pleasure points.

  “Pause.” He nipped at my neck as he lifted and then carried me to the bed.

  At the bed, we disconnected as I unwrapped my legs from his waist and then scooted backwards towards the center of the bed.

  His grin widened, before he said, “Give me one second.” He shifted from his spot, next to the bed, and then leapt towards his pants. From the edge of the bed, he gazed at me with a delighted expression.

  Alec focused on my face as he prowled in my direction, and huffed, “What’s your name?” His thin-frame hovered above me as he slipped into the fourth condom.

  “O-phe-lia,” I mumbled against his lips.

  He became the stranger my body needed, and our bodies danced in a rhythm that only true lovers could ever understand. As if we had been long-time paramours, he completed and then rolled off me and launched into his concerns and complaints.

  “I’ve worked for my father’s real-estate firm—for over a year, and I have yet to be respected as a notable realtor. Oh, and all women act as if I don’t even exist—no one will even give me the time of day.” He stopped, staring at the ceiling while he pressed his palms against his face, and then continued, “Mama says I’ll find my special someone when I’m older, and that I have her eyes but my Pop’s body.” Alec’s youth showed from his slender but muscular frame; he had more of a bicyclist’s physique.

  A heavy pause passed, as I waited
for him to continue. When I glanced over my shoulder, I found his restful face, motionless as soft snores escaped from his lips. Relief calmed me while I leaned in and kissed his cheek, and then covered him with the bedsheet. I froze on the bed when a faint beeping came from the end of the bed.

  Immediately, my heart raced as I crawled towards the beckoning sound. I had never been a religious person, but tears brimmed at my eyes while images of our freedom flooded my mind. Remorse lacked my actions, as I totally pick-pocketed his tux. When I finally found his smart-phone, a surge of relief swept over me.

  He snored and rolled to his side; and instantly, terror glued me to my spot. My mouth felt as dry as a Dallas summer afternoon while I waited for him to wake up. When he didn’t stir, I returned my attention to his code free cellular. My fingers could have had fumes smoking from them with the speed I used to email my mother. In desperation and without much thought, I typed:

  Mom,

  I’m so very sorry for everything . . . Please help me. A stranger sold me and my friends—we’re somewhere in White Rock Lake housing development. Please! Help me.

  Panic clenched at my heart when I heard voices from the other side of the door. I pushed send on the email and stuffed Alec’s smartphone back into his tux’s pants pocket. My heart thumped and deafened the room while my hands trembled as I dressed myself.

  Before I left him, I gently fluttered my lips against his.

  “Do you have to go?” he whined, reaching for me as I waved goodbye.

  In the hallway, I found myself alone. The temptation to run clawed at my mind, but I ignored it. I knew I had to stay in Hell’s Candy Land, as Birdie coined it, because a place worse than there seemed too horrific to even chance.

  The bulb above the bedroom door, which I had just left, blinked and a camo jerk burst through a door, rushing in my direction. He smelled of dirty socks that had been left out on a blistering pavement; and I could barely keep my vomit down.