He stood up, giving me a full view of his throbbing dick, still wet with precum and Maïa's saliva. He then pulled up his underwear and pants, looking me straight in the eyes. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of looking at his disgusting dick, so I held his gaze instead.
"Well, for quite some time now, I've wanted to fuck your pussy into oblivion. Maybe I could let you go on Saturday if we could make that deal."
He gave me a feline smile, knowing full well I wanted to kill him right then and there. He made a subtle move towards his bodyguard, just to remind me I was outnumbered.
"Well, I take that as a no. What a shame."
"Surely, there's something else I could do to have my Saturday off."
"I guess that if someone could bring in the money I would've made with you on a Saturday night, I could possibly agree to let you go without firing you."
"Deal."
I walked out of the office, suffocating. I didn't have that kind of money. Did I really want to go that badly? I needed to think about it. As I reached the bar, I saw Maïa heading back into the office, and Andrew pulling down his pants before the door shut behind her. Urgh, I think I'm going to be sick.
I ordered a whiskey on the rocks and downed it almost immediately before heading to the changing rooms. I slipped into my leather lingerie, which barely covered my full breasts. I adjusted the straps forming an X over my belly and made sure my thong at least covered the essentials. I added a leather garter on my thigh and slid on my knee-high boots. Finally, I undid my braid, shaking my hair loose.
I looked at my reflection and felt… nothing. Well, maybe a little bit of anger. At myself for doing this job. At the world for being this fucked up. At Andrew for his ultimatum. And, if I'm honest, at the Moon Goddess for abandoning the ones who were good.
I stepped into the club and ordered another whiskey, just to pass the time before the clients started flooding in. A werewolf's system isn't as weak as a human's, so alcohol doesn't hit us the same way. I could down several glasses and barely feel a thing. Some werewolves have even come up with stronger alcohols suited for our kind, as well as potent drugs. Some of us also have the ability to produce aphrodisiac in our blood, which affects both werewolves and humans when consumed.
After a while, the club started filling up. At first, I stuck to serving drinks, enjoying the short-lived break before I had to rub my ass on someone's lap. I recognized a few regulars, but a group of humans caught my eye—men and women, clearly new to this place. One of them wore a white dress with a tiara and a "Bride-to-Be" sash. They ordered a round of shots… then another.
Maïa emerged from Andrew's office, looking disheveled, her nose bleeding, her eyes watery.
"Hey, Maïa, are you okay?"
"Leave me the fuck alone, stupid cunt."
She stormed toward the restroom, cupping her nose to stop the bleeding. Normally, I wouldn't let anyone talk to me like that, but I knew better. Andrew preyed on human women, exploiting their vulnerabilities. He knew I wouldn't put up with his shit, but Maïa? She would do anything for a hit of crack. And she wasn't the only one in this club suffering at his hands.
The night blurred by in a haze of drinks, music, and fake smiles. I put on my show, did what was expected of me, and finally, when it was over, I went home to Mary, who was already snoring in my bed.
I threw a load of laundry in the machine, making sure her uniform was in it.
She had left me some dinner in the fridge, which I devoured in two bites before hopping into the shower to scrub off the stench of the club. After slathering myself in lavender body butter, I slipped into my soft red cotton pajamas—heavenly compared to what I had worn all night. Grabbing a handful of brownie bites, I curled up on the couch with a book, forcing myself to stay awake as long as possible. The longer I delayed sleep, the more I could avoid my nightmares.
I wasn't always this fucked up when Mary and I lived together. She wasn't used to it. I didn't want to wake her up with my screaming.
When my body finally gave in, I threw a blanket over myself and shut off the lights. Sleep took me almost instantly.
Then, suddenly, Cairn was on top of me, choking me, his bloodshot eyes burning into mine.
"You fucking slut, you like it, huh? You like it when I'm on top of you! I can see it in your eyes! You're fucking lucky they'd kill me if I put my dick inside your pussy."
He released me, and I gasped for air, my throat and lungs burning. He stood up and spat on me.
I scrambled to the corner of the room on all fours, scraping my knees against the rough concrete. The chains around my wrists dug into my skin, clinking like a macabre laugh.
"Where do you think you're going, little one? Who said I was done?"
He grabbed my hair, forcing my jaw up, crushing his lips against mine.
I bit his lip. Hard. The taste of his blood flooded my mouth.
"Arghhh!"
He shoved me to the ground, laughing. My head hit the floor with a sickening thud, and a high-pitched ringing filled my ears—a bad sign.
"I see you want to play, little one."
His boot connected with my ribs. Once. Twice. Again and again, until I heard a sickening crack.
He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and sighed.
"You see what you make me do, little one? If you were a good girl, I wouldn't have to do this to you."