What I
did inherit from my mother, was her bright green eyes. I refer to my mother as
(was) because, I haven’t seen her in over nine years. I left the moment I
turned sixteen, and have never looked back. I don’t know if my mother is alive
or dead. She has never tried to find me or vice versa. I have no remorse or
regret for leaving her. In my mind, she died way before I actually left.
I moved
to Miami, Florida the day I turned sixteen, with no more than the clothes on my
back and $100 in my purse. My home, which I don’t even think you could call it
that, was a piece of shit, we never had air conditioning, and it always smelled
like sex. No lie, it smelled like sex, yes, sex has a smell. It’s a musky aroma
of sweat, condoms, semen, and come. You know the feeling of when you walk
outside, and you can just smell the rain coming? There’s this sense in your
body, the air feels and smells different, even though the sky may not look any
different. If you try to describe the smell you just can't, but you know it’s
going to rain. Then inevitability, it does rain. Sex is kind of like that too. It’s
a smell that once you inhale, you never forget. It’s a smell that grew
comforting to me throughout the years, and at times still is.
I never
had any friends, and to be honest; I never really wanted any. Girls are too
dramatic and problematic for my taste. I had my own problems, and they didn’t involve
what I would be wearing to school tomorrow or if I finished my Calculus
homework. I mean I went to school, it just didn’t really stick, let’s face it,
a girl like me would never be able to afford to go to college or to even think
about getting scholarship money. Fuck, I didn’t care enough about my grades to
even try. I kept to myself, and people didn’t really bug me.
If you
want to be invisible you just sort of become invisible. I don’t even think my
teachers knew I was there, let alone my fellow classmates. The boys, however,
oh yes the boys, they knew me…this is where I was smart, or stupid, depending
on how you want to perceive it. In my case it was smart. This is where I
applied myself. I had about four to five different boys that I would use. One
could say that they used me, fuck that, I definitely used them! I kept them on
rotation and chose different guys from different social groups, so that they
wouldn’t know about each other and they wouldn’t gossip about me.
They
kept me fed. I guess you could say it was like my job. I mean they gave me
money sometimes, when I would ask for it. Though, how much money can a fifteen
year kid really have, so mostly I got food, sometimes shelter, and if they had
any sisters then they might try to steal some makeup or clothing for me. I
never asked where anything came from, I just took it, and they never offered
any information, so it was an unspoken agreement. Actually, we did very little
talking, it was a service for a service situation.
I gave
my first hand job when I was thirteen, sucked my first dick when I was fourteen,
got finger fucked when I was fifteen, and had sex when I was sixteen. I know…I
waited until I was sixteen to have sex after being raped, and I did it for $100
to get the fuck out of Tampa and away from my mother. Best decision I ever
made! The sex wasn’t so bad though, it didn’t last very long. It was in the
backseat of his pickup truck. The guy was a senior, and he didn’t want to go
away to college a virgin, so in reality I kind of did him a favor. I laid on my
back and spread my legs, staring at his stained roof, as I tried not to inhale
the shitty smell of motor oil lurking in the atmosphere. In three minutes and ten
thrusts later, I was on my way. To ask if I had the big O, and saw stars would
be a fucking joke, it sucked.
Now the
first time I ever felt a sense of power, was the first time I sucked cock. Of
course, I wasn’t very good at it, but damn, did it feel good to be able to make
a guy react that way by my mouth. The surge of adrenaline that I felt by having
the condom fill with his load was indescribable. It felt amazing to feel like
nothing in the world mattered, except what I was doing to this boy.
I chose
Miami, because it was the farthest that $100 could get me. He drove me to Miami
before heading off to his University. Oh, and I know what you’re thinking, yes
I ALWAYS used protection, I’m not fucking stupid. I didn’t want an STD or end
up with a little shit like me. This guy wasn’t so bad though; he was actually
kind of nice. He gave me another $100 bucks, because I gave him road head. He didn’t
ask for it I just offered,
who says chivalry is dead?.
Once I
got to Miami, I didn’t know what I was going to do for the essential things in
life, you know; food, money, and shelter. I was beginning to think that this
was a bad idea, and maybe I should just turn around and head back home. Then I
thought to myself and realized; I barely had that at home, so what the fuck was
the use of going back to that hellhole.
I got
out of the guy’s truck and walked my happy ass to the nearest bar. I figured I
could either get picked up or get drunk, both thoughts appealed to me. Upon
entering the bar I had several people looking at me, I mean, hadn’t they ever
seen a chick with a backpack before? Maybe they were wondering why I had all my
life possessions on my back, or maybe they were just checking out my rack, who
the fuck knows. I sat at the bar and ordered a Cuba Libre, when in Rome, right?
The guy didn’t even ask for my ID, which was sort of disappointing, because I
had one made from one of the computer geeks at my school, I was itching to use
it.
Looking
up at the bartender, I realized he was pretty handsome. He had dark skin, dark
eyes, short black hair, and seemed taller than six feet. He was sporting a five
o’clock shadow that kind of made him seem edgy. He looked Latin. His build was
impressive even through his clothes, I could tell he was well-built. What
really caught my attention was his smile. I had never seen a more sincere
welcoming smile before. Something about it was genuine. When he handed me my
drink I noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and that he had really big
hands.
“Do you
know of any places hiring?” I asked.
He
looked at me and smiled “What are you looking to do?”
I
thought about it, before I answered. I wanted to come off confident.
“I’m not
quite sure. I’m a fast learner though. I just need to make some money and by
that, I mean today. I just picked up and moved here from Tampa, so I need to
make some money fast, not really crazy about living on the streets,” I
halfheartedly smiled.
He
contemplated what I was saying, giving me a once over with a questioning glare.
“What’s
your name, and how old are you?” He asked. My nerves piqued just a bit. It
wasn’t that I couldn’t lie. I could lie. I was damn good at it. I just hoped
that I could get away with the five years that I needed to add to my age. I
looked twenty-one, people often told me that I did.
I stuck
out my hand to shake his, “Ysabelle Telle, twenty-one, you?”
He shook
my hand. “Devon Hill, twenty-nine.”
“Well
nice to meet you, Devon Hill.” I gave him a flirty smile. “Now about any
hiring’s, do you think you could help me?” I bit my bottom lip in the enticing
way that worked with the guys back home that I had become accustomed to. I knew
how to flirt to get what I wanted. I was damn good at that too.
He
considered what I was saying.
“Let me
see what I can do.”
He
walked to the back of the bar.
I took
that time to look around the place. The bar looked very upscale. I was sitting
at the first bar by the front doors. There were white leather couches that
extended throughout all of the back and sidewalls, with small tables in front to
accommodate expensive drinks. Above the back wall was a balcony looking thing, and
DJ equipment. Attached with its own set of stairs. Right in the middle of the
place were tables with white cloths with chairs tucked underneath. There were a
few people sitting around having some drinks. One of the tattooed covered guys
smiled my way. I smiled, and continued to inspect the club. I didn’t want to be
rude to the guy. I may need to use him for a few bucks if I didn’t get this
job.
At the
back of the bar was a dance floor, as shiny as glass. I was sure guys loved
that, there was no doubt that the floor reflected like a mirror. Right before
the dance floor was two sets of stairs, leading to a second floor that looked
even more striking than the first. There also appeared to be another bar in the
middle of the room, along with leather couches and tables. I looked back on the
first floor and saw that there was another bar to the left of the dance floor.
It seemed that they would need a lot of bartenders, considering it had three
bars. I pondered that thought, as I downed my drink. Before I knew it, Devon
returned and handed me an application with a pen.
“Fill this
out and you can start today? Do you have any bartending or waitress
experience?”
“No…like
I said though, I’m a really fast learner.”
“Alright
then, I can have you start bartending today. Just shadow me around and we will
see how fast you pick it up. If I like what I see, I’ll put you on the schedule.
I’ll just pay you under the table until we see if you’re going to work, and
then we’ll talk about putting you on the payroll. Deal?” He asked, with an
extended hand.
I shook
his hand. I would de-rail the payroll thing as long as I could. I didn’t need
him running my social, informing him of my true age, not to mention my mother.
I wasn’t too worried that she would be looking for me. She never cared what I
was doing or where I was before. The only thing that would send her looking for
me would be the fact that she didn’t have my food stamps to ensure she had
drugs anymore. Fuck her. She could sell her body for her fix. I wasn’t being anybody’s
pawn. Ever again.
“Are you
the owner?” I asked, shaking his hand.
“I am.”
He replied.
I put
the pen to the corner of my lip and bit on it. I don’t know why I was flirting
I already had the job.
“Huh,
you’re awfully young to be owning something.”
“And you
are awfully gorgeous.” He smirked. “You’ll definitely bring in a crowd for me.
I inherited this club from an uncle, who passed away a few years ago.”
I
brought the pen back down on the application. “Oh…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to__”
“Don’t
sweat it, Kid. It happened a long time ago. He was a mean old bastard anyways,
he did know how to run a great place. It was successful before I ever got my
hands on it. I was fortunate enough to have a business degree from college, so
I knew a thing or two about running a business. What brings you to Miami?”
I
started working on the application. I didn’t want to look him in the eyes.
“I was
over living in my hometown. I wanted to expand my horizons.” I looked back at
him. “You know?”
He
nodded his head. “Yeah, I can understand that. I was born and raised in Miami.
I moved to Gainesville to go to UF for college, and somehow I wound up back
here, nonetheless.”
I
noticed then that Devon was a talker and he wasn’t shy about sharing. Though I
found myself not minding his openness, he was authentic, and I liked that.
I
grinned at him. “You sound like you got your shit together, Devon. Care to
share your secret?”
He
laughed. “I think I’m gonna like ya, Kid. You say what’s on your mind, great
quality to have. The guys will be taken with you… which will make my bar happy,
as well as your wallet.”
“I think
you’re giving me more credit as far as my appearance goes, thank you anyhow.”
He left
me alone for a few minutes to finish my application. When he came back, he
introduced me to some of the staff and gave me a tour. Once we were finished
touring the exquisite night club, he walked me to a back restroom and asked me
if I had anything else to wear. I must have looked at him funny. He called one
of the bartenders that I had just met and asked her to ‘help me out’. His
words, not mine. She handed me a black corset top and told me to leave my bra
on with it, and to change into some tight jeans. I’d never worn a corset
anything before, so she had to help me with the ties on the back. She pulled
the ties so tight, I had to tell her that I couldn’t breathe. She loosened them
a little with a snicker.
“You’ll
make a lot more tips with it tight like this. You’ll get use to the not
breathing part. Beauty is pain right?” I smiled, and nodded.
After I
finished changing, I looked in the mirror to survey myself. The first things
that caught my eyes were my breasts, they were to my chin, and my waist was
smaller than usual, which made my ass stick out more. All in all, I was pretty
impressed with myself. I could see what she meant by making more tips this way.
My breasts would be in the guys’ faces every time I would lean over. With this
ensemble, I would need to be on nipple slip patrol. Since I never really wore
any makeup, I really didn’t have very much to work with, so I just went heavy
on the black mascara and eyeliner. I applied some blush, and went with my
favorite flavored strawberry lip-gloss.
After, I
did one more check in the mirror, I walked out from the restroom, and ran right
into Devon. He cocked a huge smile at me.