4. The Gift
Chapter 4
The Gift
I release a huge yawn, my body riddled with various aches and pains from the lousy few hours of sleep I got, thanks to the over one hundred and twenty pounds of fur ball that hogged my bed. The clingy bastard waits until I get up, his ears perked, and then takes over what’s left of the mattress as I start my day. “You’re just lucky you’re so damn cute,” I groan as he burrows deeper into my comforter, until only one of his large black paws is visible.
My groggy thoughts turn to last night at the strip club and how, despite working every day this month, I’m still going to be short on rent, and all my credit cards are now maxed out. I need to find something else, something that doesn’t involve me wearing barely there clothing, and having assholes proposition me all night. The cuts on my arm catch my eye, and a scowl crosses my lips; that guy was such a jerk, and so was his creepy friend in that ridiculous Santa get-up. I’m so glad I got those two kicked out.
“What are you doing awake already?” I question my roommate Daisy as I walk into our rundown kitchen, and the smell of fresh coffee reaches my nostrils. She usually sleeps until mid-afternoon, since we both work at the club until the early hours of the morning, but she’s up after only going to bed five short hours ago. She groans as she clutches her head, no doubt feeling the after-effects of all the tequila shots she took with patrons, after she was done performing on stage. “Shhh, your voice is too loud,” she groans.
I pour myself a cup of steaming black coffee, and sit at the old, fake-wood folding table we eat on. I grin at her as I watch her in the misery of her own making. I don’t know why she does this to herself night after night. Mind you, if I had to take off all my clothes, and swing naked on a pole for a bunch of drunken horny fools, I’d probably be drunk too. It’s bad enough that I’m barely dressed, and have to serve them alcohol.
I reach across to the rickety bookcase we have next to the table, that serves as a pantry, and grab the chocolate cookie package. It’s one of the last few things we have left to eat in the house that isn’t in a can. “Here, eat some of those to help soak up all that tequila, and drink some damn water today. Your liver will thank me.”
She peeks one of her red-rimmed blue eyes through her fingers, and reaches for the cookie package with a pained moan. “Are you heading to the diner?” She questions with a mouthful of cookies.
“Yup, gotta leave soon, or I’ll be late.” I take a few more sips of my coffee, hoping that it will wake my tired ass up, for the long day of waitressing at the diner down the road, before I head for my bartending shift at the club later with Daisy. “I’m going to be tight with rent as it is, girl. I might need to bum some money off you for rent for a week until I can get caught up.”
“You know I’ll give it to you, but you wouldn’t need to work so many hours if you just stripped, or came with me to ‘the hole’. You’d make rent in a few days, instead of busting your ass all month at both places and barely scraping by.“ She gives me a sheepish look, and I roll my eyes. We’ve had this discussion before, multiple times, in fact. There is no way I’m stripping at the club, I can barely stand bartending there.
A shiver races down my body at the thought of taking off all my clothes, and doing what she does at ‘the hole’. If I thought the strip club was seedy, ‘the hole’ is a whole other level. The name is a pretty accurate description. Even though from the outside, it looks like an adult toy store, and inside, hidden in the back, is a completely different story. Various booths can be accessed for a fee by willing clients, where they can use the glory hole drilled in the wall to fuck Daisy, and the few other sex workers that work there. She swears that she is safe while doing it, and that the thrill, spontaneity, and anonymity of a faceless fuck, turns her on as well as pays her well for her tasks.
The images that rise in my head anytime I think about being used by a faceless stranger, having them fill my pussy, ass, or mouth with their cocks and fucking me, all while I have no idea who it is, causes my core to clench and my panties to dampen. I would never admit it to Daisy or anyone else, but it turns me on, and secretly, I know I have fantasies that would probably shock my outgoing and fearless friend.
“I... I have to go shower, or I’ll be late,” I stammer, as I place my empty cup in the sink and rush out of the kitchen to get ready, without meeting Daisy’s eyes. Damnit, now I need a quick cold shower before I head to the diner. I rush into the bathroom, locking the door, and turn on the hot water, with the images still playing in my mind. The vision of large, veiny hands grabbing onto my hips and forcing me to stay still, as a hard, thick cock pounds into my pussy without mercy, causes a throaty moan to escape my lips. A faceless man using me in any way he desires, while I am forced to take it, and have all my holes filled with his cum. He would call me his slut, and a whore, and tell me how he was going to fill me up and rip me apart. Fuck, now for sure, I have to make myself cum before I leave the house.
As I strip off my pajamas, I get a good look at myself in the mirror above the sink. My eyes are wide, my dark pupils blown, and a pink flush is rising across my cheeks, neck, and chest. I look like I’m high on lust, the thought makes me want to giggle at how insane I am. Shit, who needs porn? I get off on my own imagination. My nipples stand erect, painfully waiting for someone to suck and play with them, even though there is no way that will happen unless it’s my own touch. I slide my hand down my neck, using my fingers to grip and tighten on the column, as I picture rougher, longer digits committing the act instead of mine. My core clenches, spasming and reminding me that I’m so empty. I need something to fill me up, but I have no desire to trek back into my room to get my B.O.B.
My gaze lands on my roller brush on the counter, and I bite down on my lip as I contemplate the thick, round wooden handle. After a peek at the door to ensure I engaged the lock, I wrap my fingers around the cool handle and slowly allow it to trail down my chest, encircling first my right nipple and then my left, causing a shiver to race up my spine, before I push it down my abdomen, and use it to apply subtle pressure to my throbbing clit. I run the cool surface through my drenched pussy lips, coating it in my slick moisture before bringing it back up to my clit, and tapping lightly against the throbbing surface. Fuck, it feels good, but I need more. I need the sensation to be harder, rougher. I push the end of the handle to my tight hole, pressing just the tip inside of me before pulling it back out, as a moan escapes my lips. My head tips back with pleasure, my loose auburn hair cascading down my back, the sensation of the silky tendrils against my hot flesh adding another level of stimulation.
I push the handle further inside of myself, thrusting forcefully and quickly, until it’s buried as deep as it can go. My wetness coats its surface, and I’m forced to wrap my hand around the bristles to keep it from sliding back out. The bite of their hard, prickly surface on my fingers and palm makes me want to feel it slapping against my wet pussy lips. I need a slice of pain with my pleasure, to experience all the sensations wrapped into one. I drive the bristles against my swollen flesh, the bite of pain ripping another moan from my lips, and forcing me to bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to contain it. My rhythm picks up, thrusting roughly and urgently inside of my cunt, as a shiver causes my limbs to tighten, and a blast of heat starts at the nape of my neck and makes its way down my limbs. My legs shake as the orgasm rises, causing me to have to grasp onto the sink with my other hand, and keep myself upright.
My mind conjures up a large man in shadowed darkness, his face hidden behind an ominous mask, covered in blood, with huge, menacing fangs. Only his hazel eyes are visible, and filled with molten heat. His large hand circles my throat, stopping all my air from flowing into my lungs, while his other hand clutches a sharp blade at my breast, and nicks my soft, creamy skin over and over, and rivulets of blood slide down my hot flesh. His cock pounds into my pussy at a punishing tempo, not trying to pleasure me, but instead to punish me for being a disobedient brat. The sound of skin slapping against skin, and his manly, gruff, grunts fill the air. “Come for me, whore,” he demands near my face, as he drives himself hard one last time inside of my throbbing pussy, and my orgasm explodes over me, in wave after incredible wave of euphoria. I cum, soaking the hairbrush, my fingers, and the sides of my thighs, my breaths coming too quickly, as I try desperately to gulp in air and calm my racing heart.
An incessant pounding on the bathroom door brings me back to my reality, and with a grimace, I pull the hairbrush handle from inside of my sensitive pussy, and then throw it in the sink. The water is still running in the shower, and it is no doubt cold now that I’ve lost myself for so long. Fuck, I drag my hands down my face, my musky smell reaching my nostrils. I reach forward and shut off the water, annoyance filling me at how I just allowed the fantasy to overwhelm me.
“What?” I yell through the door, as I stare at my flushed appearance in the mirror.
“You better get out here now! Toothless just vomited up parts of your comforter that he decided to chew on! Oh, Jesus, not my shoes, Toothless!” Daisy screams, and I hear her footsteps rushing away from the door, and my dog barking like a psycho.
I turn on the sink and wash my hands and the brush, looking longingly at the reflection of the shower in the mirror, and knowing that I no longer have time to take a shower before I have to leave for the diner. I stare at my appearance, and I don’t like what I glimpse. Get it together, Chrissy. You don’t have time for shadowed men and great fucks, you have to worry about keeping yourself alive.
I push away from the sink, wrap my ratty, old robe tightly around myself, and prepare to fight a massive cane corso over the last blanket I had left. How did my life get here? This certainly wasn’t where I thought I would be at twenty-seven.
“CHRISSY! He’s got my shoe in his mouth! Come get him!” Daisy’s high-pitched scream almost shatters my eardrums, as I race out of the bathroom door and forget all about my shadowed man.