Chapter 2
two
. . .
“Are they … real?” He asks, his hand clasping over my breast. “Seem big for your frame.”
“Do I not get to fuck you if they’re fake?” I allow him to paw at me. It’s not the worst feeling in the world, truth be told, even when it’s coming from such a noxious source.
“Nah, I’m a different kind of guy … you want fake tits, get fake tits.” Wow, what a saint.
“Not my fault I was born flat as a board, right?” I giggle.
“Not at all, but, if you’re going to go big … you should go bigger.” He squeezes my nipple through the fabric of my dress.
“Well, mine are all natural. Grew them myself, it just took a few years more than most girls. But, maybe if I have a hot CEO boyfriend to pay for them to get even bigger, I’ll do it.
” I lay back and let him continue to touch me, feel my body.
Every motion is rough and primal, needing for some violent intimacy that puts him in control. I let him have the control.
I think about how exposed we are, standing out in the open at the front door of his house. But neighbors here live miles apart because the rich can’t possibly fathom the idea of having someone live so close to them, so we’re more than safe.
He pushes me against the wall of the alcove and kisses my neck again, still rough, still powerful. His hand snakes up my thigh, and I redirect it backward, giving him the satisfaction of grabbing my ass without outright denying him.
“C’mon, I wanna finger you, I’m trying to do you a fucking favor,” he says, the desperation clear in his voice, a wad of gum clicking between his teeth.
“Why don’t we just skip all of that foreplay bullshit and get right to what we really want to do?” I ask, leaning in and kissing him, buying myself some space from being pressed into the wall.
“Now you’re a girl after my heart,” he says. “Too many women are so fucking needy … girls like you know what’s important.”
Oh, I do.
“I don’t need to mess around when we’re all just here for the big finish, right?” I say.
“Damn, don’t know how I got so lucky … just glad I don’t have to act like I enjoy eating you out …” Eric pulls his phone out and swipes it across the keypad next to the door. It blinks red. “What the fuck?”
My blood goes cold as I remember I need to reach into my purse and hit the activation button on the Flipper Zero in the pocket. “Ahh, computers, right?” I say, discretely grabbing the device in my bag and hitting it the moment he swipes his phone again.
This time it goes green, thankfully. “God … fucking cheap bullshit, never works. All disposable garbage.” He pushes the door open and gestures into the house in the most gentlemanly way he can. “After you.”
I walk in, my heels clacking hard on the marble floor. Eric’s house is a modernist dream, and clearly designed by someone with more taste than him. All one level, lots of floor-to-ceiling windows showing off the valley below, and almost entirely stainless steel and black furnishings.
“Anthony?” Eric bellows into the massive expanse of his living room. “God, where is he?”
“Who?”
“My housekeeper, I’m trying to tell him to go home, fucking bastard … Anthony!” He screams again. Eric kicks off his shoes and walks with purpose into the kitchen. “Lazy fuck, he’s probably asleep.”
In the kitchen, he pauses, looking down at a piece of paper.
It takes him a lot longer to read the short message than you would think he would need.
“Oh … he went home sick.” Eric shrugs. “Well, hope he feels better when he gets the text tomorrow saying he’s fired.
” He crumples the paper and throws it in the garbage can, then turns back toward me.
“Guess that means we can just get started quicker, right?”
“It does.” I smile, making sure my back is turned to him so he can see just how fucking great these heels make my ass look.
I worked hard for this, might as well show it off, right?
“Why don’t you go over to that couch and sit down, and I'll show you the things we can do to get us started?” I point at a low black couch that’s facing the windows.
This house doesn’t seem to have a living room or any kind of gathering space; it feels more like a museum.
He probably prides himself on the fact that he doesn’t own a TV.
Eric doesn't say anything, but he smiles and obeys. He walks over to the couch and sits down, a smug look on his face. He probably feels like a king right now, being served by a woman who would do anything to be with him. And that is technically true, because putting all of this together took a hell of a lot of effort. It’s just a shame he’s too dumb to realize what all of these efforts are for.
I take my time following him, crossing in front of him,, and moving my hips in a way that I know will demand his undivided attention.
“God, just gorgeous,” he says. He takes his jacket off and tosses it to the other side of the couch, then leans back and watches me approach.
“See something you like?” I ask, taking another slow step toward him.
“I'm seeing a lot of things that I like.” His eyes search me, his mind surely racing with all the things he wants to do with me. “Whole lot.”
“Yeah?” I say, straddling him on the couch and putting my arms around his shoulders. “Well, what are we waiting for?” I kiss his neck, then move up to his ear. “Let's get started, right?”
I lower down and grind against him, having to play this so very delicately, but I need him to think this is going to a point of no return. Well, it is, but I want him to have his defenses down entirely.
“You're so fucking sexy, Carmilla.” Eric kisses my chest, pulling back the fabric on my dress to expose my left breast. He looks especially predatory when he sees the pink nipple standing hard from thrill. He doesn’t know that my excitement isn’t really because of arousal for him, but rather excitement over what is about to happen to him.
I try to relax my breathing as he begins sucking my nipple. The rush of the stimulation welling up in me is only matched by the sense of fear at the situation, but I have to play this perfectly or else all of it will be for naught.
“Mmm … fuck, that's good ...” I say, running my hand through his hair.
Like the othertouching before, I have to admit it feels good in some way, even if I have no real attraction to this man …
quite the opposite, he literally disgusts me.
But stimulation is stimulation, and I'll let him enjoy his ignorance a little longer.
He wraps his hands around my ass, digging them in hard. He grunts and pulls back from my breast, looking up at me. “I want to fuck your little pussy right now, Carmilla.”
“Oh, you do?” I say, holding his gaze, my back straight, letting the anticipation grow. I’m sure I look triumphant right now, one glistening breast exposed, a perfect picture of desire.
“Yeah ... god, yeah, I want to fuck you … I’ll fuck you raw, I don’t want a fucking condom in the way.”
“I want that, too,” I say, stepping back, motioning like I'm going to take off my panties.
“Yes, fuck …” He scrambles and begins unbuckling his belt with fumbling fingers, getting more and more desperate with every passing second. He practically rips his zipper trying to get his cock from his pants, but finally gets it out, holding it in his hand as he stares at me.
I’ve seen my fair share of cocks in my life, but Eric’s is definitely at the bottom of the barrel. It’s not that it’s short, it looks perfectly average, it’s just so … purple … “There is a small complication, though, Eric,” I say, lowering my hands from the hem of my skirt and standing over him.
“What ... what the fuck, Carmilla? C'mon, we're gonna fuck, stop with this bullshit,” he spits.
“It's kind of hard to fuck someone's pussy if they don't have one … and ...” I peer at his lap. “It's actually really hilarious that I have a bigger cock than you ...” I laugh. I let the mask drop a bit, stumbling back a step, my girly giggle taking a more sinister bent.
“Fucking faggot tranny bi--“ Eric's rage is interrupted when he feels the steel muzzle of Junko's pistol come to rest at the side of his head.
“Careful with what you're about to say, Mr. CEO.” My girlfriend looks up at me from behind the couch and we share a moment of demented glee. “And put that embarrassing little worm away, holy fuck, you'd think your money could buy you a decent cock.”
“They have surgery for that, you know.” Junko looks up at me with a slight giggle before refocusing on Eric. “They can sculpt that shameful prick into something that could at least look halfway decent.”
I'm thankful Junko waited to pull her gun and enter the scene, because the shock on Eric's face as he realizes how fucked he is might be the best thing I’ve seen in years.
It's clear his brain hasn't caught up with exactly what’s happening to him.
Junko had come out from the kitchen basically the moment Eric had left it, but her penchant for waiting for the right moment was one of the things I loved about her.
“You know, Eric ... when I started transitioning, I thought to myself 'you'll never be a convincing woman,' or that I'd never be pretty enough to be the person I saw myself as.” I pace back and forth, Eric giving me his rapt attention because otherwise my girlfriend will paint the windows with him. “Transphobes like you say you ‘always know’, but you’re really, really fucking bad at clocking us, all the damn time. Maybe if you’d paid more attention, gotten some context clues, noticed some things, you would have picked up on it.
But, I guess you also didn't really notice anything about me when I was Cameron. When I ... you know, worked as part of the core dev team that built those goddamn apps you claim all the credit for?” Eric stares at me, and I can see in his eyes that he is absolutely lost.
I kneel, getting on his eye level. “You actually don't remember me at all, do you?”
“I … don't,” He says, looking genuinely confused. “I've seen thousands of people, hired and fired just as many. How the hell am I supposed to remember some random fucking cocksucker who worked for me?”
I slap Eric hard across the face, making Junko wince.
“You say ‘cocksucker’ like it’s an insult, Eric. I’ve gotten so many compliments on my skills at it, from Junko here and from many others, and I proudly call myself a cock sucker.” I take a step back. “Junko, do it.”
My girlfriend grins and holds the gun steady, then pulls the trigger.