Mercer: Prophets MC
Page 28
I couldn’t argue with her. I was pathetically desperate, at least enough to make Lana have pity on me. But still, I wasn’t one to do the club scene. Working at one was enough for me to hate it with a passion. The extravagant expense, the long lines, the people all grinding up on one another… it wasn’t my scene. I tossed the dress back to my roommate and sat on the bed across from her. “I can’t, Lana. I don’t have the money, and I have a ton of work to do on this project.”
“Come on. The project will still be there tomorrow, and I can get us in for free. I know a guy. Plus, the rest of the study group is going with us so I won’t leave you alone to fend for yourself.” She watched as I shook my head. With one grasp of my arm, she pulled me back on my feet and pushed the dress back towards me. “Get dressed Kylie, we’re going out.”
The dress was tight. Super tight. I couldn’t imagine what Lana looked wearing it considering I was at least two sizes smaller than her and had absolutely no curves except for my breasts, which felt like they were going to slip through the gaping cutouts at any second. The heels she gave me were sky high, but after two porn shoots, I was getting much better at being on my feet and walking in a pair.
She covered my face in dark smoky makeup and told me to leave my hair in my signature ponytail. With a wink she reminded me, “Guys love to hold on to a girl’s hair.”
Oh I know, Lana.
Once we made it through the doors of the Paradise on the Strip, thanks to Lana’s connections with both of the security guys, I was instantly turned off. This wasn’t my scene. The music was thumping loud, making it impossible to hear. And the guys were just gawking at Lana as she passed by, weaving through the crowd to where the rest of our study group was standing near the velvet rope.
I heard Jackson yell towards us, “Lana! Kylie! Are you insane? How did you get us into the VIP bottle rooms? How much did you spend on this?”
Bottle service? I was totally taken aback. I didn’t agree to this. Lana placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, steadying me into place as she talked to the rest of the group in our huddle, “Don’t worry about it. I know a guy who, well, he owes me a favor.” She winked, sending Angelica and Daphne over the edge giggling.
I started to panic. There was no turning back now. I was in it for the night. As we passed through the velvet rope and headed towards the elevator for the upstairs lounges, I spotted a familiar face. It was Cal, the security guard from the Strip Top Bar. I ran to my post, throwing my arms around his neck. “Cal! Oh my gosh! I haven’t seen you in weeks. I didn’t even get to thank you for helping me out back at the bar the night that, well, I got let go.”
He was practically beaming as he held me around my waist. “I thought I never would see you again. What are you guys doing here?”
Before I could answer, Lana was at my side. She looked Cal up and down and passively asked, “How do I know you?”
“The Strip Top Bar. I’m a security guy there. We’ve worked together for two years, Lana.” He was annoyed, but slightly amused. In his line of work, I was sure he saw a ton of stuck up, bitchy waitresses and dancers.
“Oh that’s right. Anyway, we have a table. It’s under Lana Richardson.” She leaned down at his clipboard and pointed to a line where her name is. “Can you let us in?”
Cal pushed a code into the elevator’s mainframe and waited for it to arrive. Still, he didn’t break his stare. Obviously my borrowed dress and new look met his approval. As the doors closed, he turned and gave me a slight nod, and I was left to wonder what that was all about.
I didn’t have time to think about it any longer. Before we could even sit, a bottle was thrust in my hands and I was taking shots of vodka with the group. Drink after drink after drink went down as I raised each glass to make sure I got every last drop. I knew I should have been careful. I knew I should have paced myself, but my head was going loopy. And I was grateful that I can at least forget about Wilder. This was what being young, wild, and totally free was like!
The music was calling for me as I sunk another glass of super expensive champagne. I made my way down the stairs and towards the group of dancers. As soon as I stepped on the floor, a guy took my hand and pulled me into his body. He was sweaty, but the way his hands seemed to float to my hips kept me linked to him. He shouted something at me, something about me looking beautiful, and I blushed. No guy had ever called me beautiful before.
Another hand grabbed my ass, as I spun to face him. This guy was even better looking than the first. I held onto him tight as he stared at my chest, as if willing me to slip out of the long v-neck. I ran my hand through his long black hair and pulled him tighter to me. I just wanted to feel someone’s body tonight and this guy would do.
But before I could make my move, I saw Lana beckoning for me. I ran off, not even caring about the man I locked my arms around. She was holding another glass of champagne that I knocked back without a second thought. I turned to her excitedly and screamed over the music, “Is this what it’s always like?!”
“What?” She eyed me up and down before taking the empty glass out of my hand and putting it on the tray of a passing waitress.
“You know, you have sex with a guy and then, all of a sudden, everyone wants you? Is this how it works, ‘cause if it does, I'm totally getting laid tonight!”
Frankly, I didn’t have to try. By the way the room of guys was staring at me, I knew I had my pick of just about any of them. They were nothing compared to Wilder, but a warm body and someone who thought I was someone I wasn’t was enough to get me through.
Before I could even pick out the guy, a large hand grabbed me. It was Cal. He was wearing a new shirt and his little earpiece was gone. I jumped into his arms as he led me out to the dance floor. He surprised me by his moves. He was sleek with how he slid his hands down my body and pressed his hips against my backside. A hand shot up to my breast, grabbing a handful as I continued to follow his body’s lead.
As he pulled back my ponytail and whispered an invitation in my ear, I stopped. I saw a familiar face, a face I wasn’t sure I would ever see again. He was walking towards me, practically stomping before he grabbed me away.
“What the fuck are you doing, Kylie?” Wilder was pissed. His phone was in his hand. “Are you drunk?”
“How are you here?” I looked at him in amazement. I didn’t tell him where I was or what I was doing. I didn’t even have my phone on me. Lana took it the moment we walked in the club so I wouldn’t be tempted to reach him.
“Who the hell is this?” Cal was all security guard, stepping in between Wilder and I. I tried to protest but he was screaming at Wilder to leave.
“He’s my stepbrother, Cal. It’s okay!” I tried to diffuse the situation, but I could tell by the way Wilder was staring at me, digging icy glares in my direction that he wasn’t letting me just walk away.
I pushed Wilder away, out towards the edges of the dance floor. “You can’t just do this, Wilder! You can’t just show up and protect me.”
“What am I supposed to do, Kylie? You’re the one who wanted me. And now I’m here. Is this who you are? Those guys are no good for you. But you’re dressed like you’re back on set. I don’t blame them for thinking you’d go for them.”
I stepped back as I tried to steady my awkward steps. I was still drunk, but I knew I should be insulted. “What the fuck, Wilder! I’ve been calling and calling for days and you just show up? And not only that, you insult me, too! I’m just trying to have a good time, to get you off my mind! Isn’t that what you want me to do? You made it very clear we’re not going to be together anymore.”
My stepbrother wasn’t going anywhere. Whatever I just said made him more resolved, more determined to get me going. I saw Cal coming back towards us as I ducked a bit. Cal was up in his face, ordering him to leave, but Wilder was at least four inches taller than him and much, much stronger. The two went toe-to-toe as each one refused to move. I watched helplessly as Wilder raised an arm and struck, punching Cal in t
he face, landing a blow right to his jaw. He had done this before to the boys on the block that picked on me as a child.
I stared at the man on the floor, unsure of what I could do or how I was supposed to react. Before I could say anything, he was dragging me out of the club by my arm. Lana was shouting after us, unsure what to do. He hailed a black taxi, throwing me inside. I wanted to scream and resist, but I wasn’t sure what I could do. I just sat there, hoping my breath would eventually catch up with me. He gave the driver directions back to the university before turning to face me. His eyes were burning as he stared at my dress, the way I’m grabbing on to the seat for support.
I couldn’t ask him what I needed to ask him or give him another apology. As I opened my mouth, he made his move, leaping over the seat towards me, lunging at my body. He kissed me deeply, hard. Our lips smacked one another as we struggled to steady ourselves. Both of us were unsure of what to do, how to be now that the secret was revealed. But it was clear that I wasn’t alone. He wanted me as bad as I wanted him.
Our hands wrestled with one another as I could feel his cock through his pants stiffen. Before I could reach down, he yanked my hands away and turned towards the driver. “Let me out here. This is my stop.” He slid out the door, handing the driver money and giving him instructions to not let me out until we reached my dorm building. I watched him disappear against the shadows of the Las Vegas strip.
Chapter 10: The Cracking Whip
She was here. I could hear her voice on the other side of the dressing area thanking Elise for getting my number and assuring her that her friend found me. But she wasn’t the same Kylie I saw last night, the one who was dazzling and seducing just about any man who looked her way. Today, her voice was shaky, totally off. I could tell she was nervous, at least more than usual. But I couldn’t blame her. After last night in the club, I was feeling too out of it.
I pulled on the leather pants. It was the only piece of clothing I was wearing for today’s shoot. As soon as I saw them laying out for me, I had an idea of what was going to happen.
But still, I waited until Daniel walked into my dressing room, his clipboard of scripts in has hand to confirm my fear. “The audience wants more of what you did last time. More bondage. More physical stuff.” He looked at me with the side of his eye. He was still upset from our last shoot where I threatened to walk out unless he released Kylie. He asked, “Is this going to be a problem?”
I didn’t want it to be. After finding Kylie at the club in that dress, the one that had the slit in the front leading down her chest bone, I wanted nothing more than to punish her for being such a stupid girl. I wanted to make her obey me and my orders. If that meant using my cock, I was even more glad.
But I didn’t want to do it on camera. Normally the filming itself turned me on. Thinking about all those eyes watching me, envying me, made it easier to get through even the most amateur of partners. Sharing the screen with my stepsister, however, was a whole other can of worms. I knew I was powerless in this. I couldn’t keep her from getting on that sound stage and ripping off her clothing, but I could be in charge of what happened to her when she was in the scene.
I nodded my head to Daniel and followed him out of the dressing area. In the center of the dungeon scene was Kylie. All I could get was a glimpse of her small hands, which were physically shaking. Her wrists had cuffs on them that hooked on to the rack. This, I was sure, was not anything she had ever done before. Just like our first scene, I was going to have to walk her through this step by step.
Daniel walked over to Kylie and touched her shoulder. His hand lingered too long as he looked at her costume. She was wearing a black silk corset that lifted her breasts out and up towards her chin. It cinched her in, giving her a tiny waist. Her stockings were fishnet and coordinated with her mesh panties. A black necklace dangled around her throat and a large ruby fell down her chest, pointing directly at her tits. Even her hair was longer, if that were possible. Instead of hitting her on the small of her back, Elise put in extensions that went down to her knees. Even more to hold onto.
The scene cleared as I stood before her. The men were testing the sound levels and camera angles as I stole a few words to her, “Are you sure you want to do this? Do you know what is going to happen?”
“I know what you are going to do to me. And I want you to.” She looked at me with her large, doe eyes sparkling in the overhead lights. She looked earnest, as if she were pleading with me to do these unthinkable things.
I took her hand in mine, unsure if it was too intimate to do. I whispered towards the ground, “I don’t want to hurt you.” I was telling the truth. As much as I wanted Kylie, and as much as I wanted to fuck the bad girl version in front of me, I couldn’t bear to damage her any further. I had already tainted her enough.
“You can’t hurt me. I want this.” She turned towards the set, dropping my hand. She didn’t look back at me. Instead, she used the stepladder to hook her wrist cuffs into the metal bar up against the middle of the black painted wall. Her feet rested on a two tiny posts camouflaged to not be seen. As I got in my position, I watched her step off slightly, her legs dangling helplessly as her body bounced and swayed from her own weight dropping.
Daniel called action as I entered the set from a fake door. I called out to her, “You don’t think I’m letting you go anytime soon, do you?”
She looked down at me with pleading, mournful eyes, “Please, sir. Please, just let me go home. My father will be looking for me. My mother is probably so worried.”
I laughed heartily. “You really think I would let you go just because your mother and father lost their poor little girl?” I ran a hand up her slim calf, taking in the scent. I rolled down one of her stockings as I stroked her silky skin against my gruff hand. “My dear, I’m just getting started.”
She cried out for help as her head twisted desperately towards the corners of the fake room. I grabbed a leather riding whip from the prop cabinet designed to fit in with the medieval look. “Do you know what this is?” I asked her understanding that both Kylie and the character she had transformed into had no idea what it could do.
“Are you going to hurt me with it?” I could see sweat pool up against her forehead. She was genuinely nervous.
“I only hurt bad girls.” I placed the whip against her thigh, rubbing it up and down the length of her leg. “Are you a bad girl?”
“No. I’m good. I promise you!” She struggled to hold her balance as I sped up the strokes. I was inching towards her sex each time I moved upwards.
Suddenly, I slapped the front of her panties with the whip, sending her reeling backwards against the wall. “Good girls don’t dress like tramps!” I hit her again with it in the same spot. It was right up against her clit, forcing her to warm up to this. There was so much more coming.
“Let me see the proof, then. If you are a good girl, your panties will be dry. If you’re a bad girl, you would have soaked it through.” I took the mesh material in my hands and ripped them off of her, leaving a slight red mark where the elastic band hit. She cried out again, this time in shock. I pulled her legs over my shoulders and began examining her.
My fingers felt her soft, downy pussy from the outside. They stroked at the curves and nooks, circling between her thighs and the line that leads inside. I pressed my thumb down on the top of that opening, not daring to go inside, at least not yet. All the other shoots didn’t give me the opportunity to see her up close like this. I was going to enjoy it for as long as possible.
I looked up at her as I continued to stimulate her with my hand. She was trying so hard to keep the act up. Her head was moving side to side but by the way she was biting her lip, I could tell she wanted it more than ever. Any hesitation I felt, any bit of worry or doubt washed away as I sensed how badly I wanted this, too.
My forefinger slipped in just a tip as she let out a harsh breath. I watched as she looked down at me, studying my actions as if it would tell her anything. I looked
back up at her and commanded her to turn away, “You’re wet.” I pushed the finger in farther, “So wet.”
Her voice hitched as she felt me find her clit and pressed into it. “No, sir. Please, I’m not wet. I don’t want this.”
“I think that’s enough talking for now.” I reached my free hand into my pocket and pulled out a white kerchief. I stuffed it into her mouth as she tried to resist. Still, I could make out her muffled, wanting screams. I grabbed the whip from my side and slapped her right breast, sending it shaking and rattling from the force. Her body collapsed downward, driving my finger even deeper. I inserted a second finger and sped up my motion as I whipped the other tit. Her hips circled in my hands as I felt her instantly get wet. Her body went limp as I struggled to hold her up.
Once she recovered, I grabbed the bar down off the wall, causing her to fall to the ground. Quickly unlocking her, I took her cuffs into one hand and her long hair into my other, yanking her towards the table made of slabs of wood. She lay down, allowing me to hook the cuffs into the links. I then strapped her legs in, keeping her in place just for me.