Nine

Chapter 2. Man. Job. Money. Repeat

I forcefully swing open the front door and hear it slam against the wall. I stroll inside, drop my purse on the floor, and look at Jenny who stares at me with wide eyes.

“It’s so hot outside. My tits are sticking together. My ass cheeks have become one, and my thighs are protesting with heat rash. I hate Las Vegas summers with a passion,” I bark.

Jenny holds back her laughter by clamping her lips together.

“You’re letting all that hot air in,” she finally says. “Close that door.”

I don’t move fast enough, so she stands up and comes over, shutting the door behind me. She’s a petite little thing dressed in her usual sundress attire. Her short black bob of a haircut bounces around as she makes her way back to the desk. She sits down and stares at the PC monitor.

“Okay, I’ve officially cooled my body to where I can think again. Give me the rundown.”

“I picked up your dry cleaning, stocked the fridge, paid all the bills, and called the plumber to deal with the sink upstairs. He will be here sometime tomorrow evening. Oh, and the neighbor stopped by again. He said, and I quote, ‘If you can tell that red-headed girl to stop parking wherever the hell she likes, that would be great.’”

“Did you tell him to eat a bowl of shit?” I smirk.

“No, but the next time he comes by, I’ll be sure to pass that on.” She quickly glances up and smiles.

“Okay and…” I wave my hand in the air. She returns her gaze back to the computer.

“You have a two o’clock at The Grand Belsier Hotel. Room 204,” Jenny says, typing away.

I toss my coat over the sofa, yawn, and slip out of my stilettos.

“Who is it?” I inquire. “Howard or Jake?” I toss a thick pile of money on Jenny’s desk.

“Neither. It’s actually a new guy named Mr. V. You’re going to want this one. Trust me.” She picks up the money and starts to count it.

I frown. “We had a deal. No more new customers.”

She ignores me as she continues counting. She types in a few numbers on her computer and then stands up, walks over and pushes me to the couch. I plop down and she starts massaging my shoulders.

“You know you could stop. You don’t need to do this anymore.”

“It’s not that easy. Somebody has to pay the bills on this place and the two cars outside and the nice clothes and —”

She cuts me off. “Do you know how much money is in the back room? You don’t, do you?”

“A lot,” I shrug. I stopped checking the books months ago.

“A lot is an understatement. That room is wall to wall packed with cash. I can only keep putting so much into the bank. We need to do something with it. We could start a business,” Jenny says.

“We already did.” I tilt my head back, look up at her, and smile. She pushes my head back down in frustration and continues to massage my neck.

“Thank you, smartass. I mean one that is legit. One where you don’t have to do what you do.”

“What I do makes us a lot of money.” I pause. “Where is this all coming from anyway? Why is this suddenly up for discussion?”

“It’s just, you seem a little disconnected lately. I thought —”

“You thought what? That I need a career change? Maybe a new job would perk me up? Come on, Jenny. Are we really going to go there?” I snort.

Just talking about it makes me feel uncomfortable.

“It’s not a bad idea, Nine.” I turn my body around and glare at her. She backs away from the couch with her hands up. “Fine, forget I said anything. Geesh.”

I relax my face. “This new guy, Mr. V., who referred him?”

“He wouldn’t say. I tried to get rid of him. I really did, but he insisted. He requested an all-nighter witheverything.” Her eyes light up.

“Really? I haven’t had one of those in a while.”

An all-nighter with everything is just what it sounds like. Every position, every act, and nothing is off limits except for the two rules. This would easily cost him ten grand.

“That’s why I took him. You once said to me if a guy ever asks for an all-nighter, never turn him away, even if he is new. By the way, he’s been waiting patiently for you, almost over a month. He’s desperate, just like the rest. I forgot I added him to the list until I checked the calendar this morning. He called a few hours ago to confirm as well.”

I exhale hard, and then throw my feet up on the coffee table. She pats my shoulder and then walks away from me into the kitchen. I can hear her pulling things out of the fridge. She returns after a few minutes with a turkey sandwich and some fruit.

“Your lunch, ma’am.”

“You are too good to me.” I smile.

“I know.” She jokes, and makes a silly face.

She walks over to her desk and opens a drawer, pulls out her makeup bag and walks back to me. I start to munch on the food as she cleans up my makeup and fixes my hair.

“How was Dave?” she asks.

I swallow the food in my mouth and clear my throat.

“Oh, you know, ‘Call me daddy. Who’s my little bad girl? Do you want to be spanked?’ Just the typical with him.” I grin. “He brought latex with him, and walked out of the bathroom dressed from head to toe in it. I thought he was going to suffocate in all that shit.”

Jenny laughs. “How do you keep a straight face?”

“I don’t. Nine does. It’s not me out there. It’s her.”

She looks at me in an odd way. I stare back, waiting.

“What?” I finally say.

“You just said it’s not you out there, it’s her.

“So?”

“Sometimes it just feels like you’re slowly checking out of life. It scares me.”

“What does that even mean?” I shake my head.

“For starters, you leave every morning for hours and refuse to tell me where you go. You spend a lot of time holed up in your room, and lately I’ve watched your appetite dwindle down to bird food. Who the hell lives off nuts? It’s not normal. Like I said before, it’s like you’re slowly disconnecting from life, from me. Each day I watch you slipping away. I think you’re lost, Nine.”

I wasn’t checking out, I thought. I’ve just been in a funk these past few weeks. I’m not exactly sure what it is. If I told Jenny where I went every morning, she would die, and I would never hear the end of it. It’s not easy to explain to an atheist that this prostitute goes to a chapel to pray. She would laugh me out of this house, because she would never understand it. I don’t even fully get it myself. I guess I’m just seeking some type of inner peace.

“Like you don’t become someone else when you’re dealing with these clients. You should hear yourself on the phone. All proper and what not. Don’t even get me started on our scouting days. This is who I am now. Plain and simple. I don’t get why we’re even talking about this.”

“You’re not ready to quit yet. Fine. At least let me help.” Her tone softens. “I’m older, more mature now. I don’t mind. I could take the pressure off you. It’s been six years. I know it’s been hard having this weight on your shoulders.” She’s still touching up my makeup as she tells me this nonsense. I push her hands off me and stand up.

“Don’t ever mention that you want to do what I do. The pact we made was thatIdo this. Not you. You do what you do best. This is where you belong.” I had the palm of my hands out, facing down.

“What’s that? Running errands? Taking new appointments?” She snorts.

“Yeah. Know your place.”

I stand up and walk toward my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I know she wants to help, but this job isn’t for her. It never was. This industry makes cracks in women that are impossible to repair.

“You’re a stubborn bitch,” she yells through the closed door. “You’re just trying to protect me. I get it.” She pauses. “But I don’t need protecting anymore, Nine. I’m a grown woman.”

I ignore her. She’s obviously on some crazy mission to save me or something. I’ll blame it on her hormones. Maybe her period is coming and she’s completely lost her mind today due to a chemical imbalance. I close my eyes briefly and clear my head of all the noise that is taking up space. I march to the bathroom and throw on some new deodorant and perfume to prepare myself for the next job. I change into a black lace-up leather corset with matching panties, and cover it up with a black slinky dress that ties around the waist. I primp in the mirror for a few seconds, locking stray hairs in place and fighting with my thoughts. Jenny’s right. I’m not the same person I used to be, but neither is she. She knew what she signed up for when she agreed to this. Forget it. I’m not thinking about this for one more second.

I walk over to my dresser, open the top drawer, and take out a little blue box that contains what I would call my quick fix anxiety reducer. I open the lid and pick out one joint. I light it up, take a puff, and then immediately put it out into an ashtray. I hold in the smoke and then slowly exhale. One hit is all I need. It’s just enough to take the edge off and keep me sane on trying days like today.

“Is that weed I smell?” Jenny’s motherly voice cuts through the closed door. She begins to knock hard against the wood.

“Don’t start with me,” I shout over my shoulder, as I stare into the mirror again.

I finally turn around, walk over to the door, and fling it open. Jenny has her arms crossed and forehead wrinkled. I shake my head, silently questioning what the hell she wants.

“You really worry me.”

“It’s just a little pot. We’ve gone over this. It relaxes me. Get off my back,” I say.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

I sigh. “I don’t get you. When did you start acting all parental?”

“Um. The moment you forgot to turn the stove off one day and burnt the hell out of the pan, and then you left the bath water running the next day, flooding the floor, and then you locked the keys in the car the day after. Your head’s been somewhere else. Something is up. What is it?”

I shrug. “I’m fine. Everything is fine. Now just get back to what I pay you to do, please.”

Her eyes widen. “You know what I mean.” I tilt my head to the side. She puckers up her lips and shakes her head.

“I need you, Jenny. Let’s not fuck up everything now. Okay? Please?”

She grits her teeth and nods with hesitation in her eyes. Jenny looks down for a second and then turns off on one heel, walking away from me. I follow her out and slip into my black high heels. I smooth out my little black dress and watch as Jenny sits down at the computer and starts punching in information harder than she needs to. I grab my purse and yell over my shoulder as I walk toward the front door.

“Later, Jenny.”

She doesn’t respond. I know she’s irritated with me. I stop and spin around. Jenny looks up.

“Do you know why I keep doing this? Why I won’t stop?”

She doesn’t say anything. She just stares at me.

“Because it’s the only thing I’m good at.”

Her face drops and so does my stomach. The room is quiet, and I feel exposed. This is the first time I’ve said that in all of these years, but it’s the truth. I quickly turn to leave. I need air, and I need it now. I open the door and hurry outside.

“Bye, bitch,” I hear her respond before the door closes. That’s her way of letting me know she understands. I let my shoulders fall forward as I take a deep breath in. I shake off the feels and walk to the black Mercedes Benz with the tinted windows that’s parked out front. I climb inside and fidget with the radio. I need to get back into work mode. I select the playlist by The Weeknd. It’s my warm up music. It gets the blood pumping in my lower regions. I don’t know how he manages to keep coming out with songs that make me and half the women around the world want to get naked at just the sound of his voice, but kudos to him for doing it. Men should be sending the singer thank-you cards for all the ass they get.

I slide on my sunglasses, start up the engine, and crank up the tunes. I have one appointment to get to before I see my new client later. This guy, Kirk, I’m headed over to see now, is a very loyal regular. I visit him every week, same day, and same time. It’s always at his house. He’s into that real kinky shit. He loves being dominated and he really, really loves toys. He’s a professional tennis player who could probably have any chick he wants, but I think his sexual appetite probably scares away most of the women he meets. I just tell him to keep paying me the way he does and I don’t mind what he’s in to.

I arrive at his house and knock on the door. He opens it and gives me his pearly white smile. He’s tall and sexy, like most of my clients, but to me he just looks like an ATM. I don’t see anything else. That’s how my brain works. Man. Job. Money. Repeat. I smile back.

“Nine, it’s good to see you, sweetheart.” He eyes me head to toe. “Come in.”

I bat my eyelashes and force Nine to come out and play, as he hands me money.

“You look fuck-able tonight,” I say, stepping forward and grabbing his tie. I tug on it just once to get his attention. I watch him lick his lips as he closes the door.

“You know, I mark down the days until I get to see you each week.”

“I bet you do,” I tease.

He looks at me with devious eyes. He’s not one to waste precious time. He’s ready.

“I’ve been a very bad boy today,” he says in a deep throaty voice.

“Have you broken the rules?” I ask. Seduction is dripping off my tongue.

He looks down. I walk closer, pushing against his chest, backing him up against the door.

“I said, did you break the rules? Answer me when I talk to you,” I demand. I slide my hand down low and give his cock a good squeeze.

“Yes, mistress.” He falls into character. He looks down in shame.

“What did I say about masturbating between sessions?”

“Not to do it,” he answers.

“And why have I given you this order?” I ask.

“Because this cock is yours,” he replies.

“That’s right. Now get down on all fours and beg for your punishment. You know better.”

His eyes darken. He purposely disobeys me to be punished. He knows it and I know it. He drops to both knees. He loves this shit. Being told what to do turns him on. His whole body is shaking in anticipation. I slowly untie my dress and let it fall to the floor. He stares at my body.

“I said on all fours, now,” I shout.

“Yes mistress,” he cries out, and falls forward at my feet.

I quickly look around at the place. It’s immaculate. It’s clean and organized. It screams control freak. I know his type. He probably spends all day giving commands and making calculated decisions, and yet here he is bowing before me. He’s giving me total control over his body. It’s his time to unwind and this is how he does it, by passing the sexual reigns to me.

“You fucking disgust me. Do you know that?”

“I’m sorry, mistress. Forgive me,” he begs.

“I didn’t say you could talk. Crawl over to that couch and strip off those clothes.”

He makes his way over and quickly peels off his suit and tie. I follow behind and begin to make circles around him. He’s now kneeling butt ass naked next to the coffee table. He has several objects that he laid out on the glass table prior to me getting here, as he always does. Today he’s opted for a dildo with lube, a cucumber, and a banana. I internally frown at the set up, but outside, Nine is working a fuck-me face. None of this does anything for me. It’s just a job. I personally count down the minutes until I’m done here.

“Please,” he cries out, not looking at me.

“Please, what?” I say, sternly.

“I want it.”

I shake my head behind him.

“I don’t think you deserve it, you pathetic excuse for a man,” I bark out.

He’s whimpering with excitement.

“I’ve been bad. I deserve it.” He bows before me.

“How bad do you want me to give it to you?”

He licks the toe of my shoe, and then looks up at me from the corner of his eye.

“I want it. I want your sweet little hands delivering it to me.”

I look down at him and smile.

“Bend over then, bitch.”