CHAPTER TWENTY
brAD
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Caylee was twenty-six when she started working for me. I often wonder what she looked like as a young girl. Long socks leading the eye up her lean legs. Short skirts teasing the cock as they lifted in the wind.
Her small breasts still growing, untouched.
Still, as much as I fantasized, I’ve only ever looked. It’s the images and fantasy that gets me hard as fuck and allows me to get off.
How I have children, I don’t know.
I married my wife because she fit the bill, so to speak. She went to a good college, grew up in a good family, wanted to have a family and marriage like I was expected to have, and was beautiful.
She still is.
But I hate fucking her.
It’s a chore, like mowing the goddamn lawns. I’m almost certain she’s fucking the gardener, and honestly, I gave him a huge bonus last Christmas.
He probably thinks I’m an idiot.
Seriously, thank you very much, Mr. Green Fingers, for pleasuring my wife and reducing the nights I have to fuck my wife down to three times a month.
Priceless.
I can get it down to two if I feign a health issue on one of those weekends.
So, that’s how I have children. Obligation. Expectation.
Surely, Cindy knows this is not a normal marriage nor lifestyle given she’s a stay-at-home mom.
The kids are too young to wonder where the money comes from for all the spoils we enjoy.
A month’s holiday in Italy or another exclusive location every year, an enormous six-bedroom, five-bathroom house with a tennis court, swimming pool and sauna.
Dentists earn well, but not that fucking well.
Amy calls out down the hall, saying goodnight.
“Night, Amy. Please lock the door,” I reply. Our usual night routine.
When I see the lights in the hall dim and hear the click, I pull open my satchel and tug out my laptop.
My laptop.
Not the company one.
Quickly logging into my offshore bank account, I see the money has been deposited for the next delivery.
Mr. Beanie—not his real name—cut it close on Tuesday. He still hadn’t paid when Louisa showed up for her appointment. Aka: delivery day. What a colossal fuck up. The crew were lined up to grab her and deliver her to him, and the seven-figure sum was outstanding.
I’d had to step outside just before she arrived to deal with the situation.
“Why are you calling this number?” Mr. Beanie asked, furious and clearly shaken.
Phone calls were rarely made.
“Because the money is not in my fucking account. Still,” I ground out. “You have one hour, or the videos will be released.”
Silence.
“Do you know who you are fucking with?” he growled.
I shook my head.
Of course I knew.
He was a public figure—that’s all I’ll say—with a lot to lose. It’s why I never did business with people I didn’t have some leverage over.
“Get me the money or it won’t matter who you are. Next time you want virgin pussy, call someone else.”
“I could have you locked up,” Mr. Beanie threatened.
Yeah, he could.
But not without exposing himself. None of them ever do. There are way too many high-profile, powerful and trusted people implicated in this trafficking industry that if it did happen, people’s minds would implode.
No one can be trusted.
Not even your local dentist.
I snigger to myself and transfer the agreed-upon fee to the delivery people and head of the organization I work with.
Oscar.
Not his real name, I’m sure.
Payments made, I pull up the images I sent through this week of Trinity. Another dentist first met with her, so I didn’t have the right photos, hence having to get more done this week.
Focusing on her green innocent eyes, and making sure she blushed while smiling, I then asked her to tuck up her legs so I could lean in front of her and quickly darted to the end of the table and took the snap of her exposed panties.
Luck of the draw.
I can get a good fifty or sixty thousand more for a girl if I can share more skin.
Caylee looked suspicious this time, and while she wasn’t in the room for that part, I had to be careful.
I send an encrypted message to
‘Oscar’ with Trinity’s images attached, and by the time I push send, my cock is hard. Reaching inside my pants, I click on the dark web link on the desktop and wait for it to load.
I select my favorite video.
A small boy. He’s terrified, has dead eyes, and he’s hard.
I bet he hates that.
I think that every time.
It makes me angry, aroused, confused.
But, nevertheless, it makes me come harder and faster than any other video.
The adult body comes into vision, the woman widens her legs, and his head is forced between them. He doesn’t fight. He just does as he’s told.
His tongue doing the work he’s been taught to do, or he won’t get food and water or the drugs he now relies upon.
Fuck.
I stroke my cock as the woman moans.
The tears run down the boy’s face, despite having no other emotion.
He wishes he was dead.
Yet, I feel nothing.
Semen erupts, spilling from my cock onto my other hand and I grunt. Fuck, this really is my favorite video.
I wonder what it would cost to meet the boy in real life.