Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
8
Nick
Itry to relax in the plush booth.
“So what are we waiting for?” I ask my father through a clenched jaw. Steve smiles, his teeth almost glowing in the low lights of the sconces.
“The girls, of course,” he states. “Quite a few ladies are going to be auctioned tonight, and the club assures me that they’re of the highest quality. Top tier, and some even untouched.”
I stare at him.
“So why am I here?” I ask in a pointed voice. “You know I’m not into virgins. Those girls are unschooled. They’re fucking teens who cry when you so much as lay a finger on their cunts, and it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
My dad doesn’t miss a beat.
“It’s because you’ve been acting like a motherfucker for a long time now, Nicky,” Steve hums. “You’ve been behaving like there’s a hornet up your ass for years.”
I know what he’s saying because it’s true. Ever since I fucked Kristie at the wedding, my life’s gone downhill. Scratch that. Financially, my life’s been lifted to new heights. I invented a special medical device for nail trephination, which just means that it’s a tool that pierces the nail to drain trapped blood from under a fingernail or toenail. It’s a simple gadget, and used in the ER all the time because lots of patients come in after smashing a digit. The device is cheap too, and it’s been stocked by hospitals and clinics all over the world. Literally, it’s so inexpensive such that even third world hospitals can afford it, and I’ve become a billionaire as a result.
But as my bank account soared, my personal life took a dive. In the free time that I had, I fucked so many women that it’s downright ludicrous. I fucked redheads, blondes, brunettes, old women, young women, barely legal teens and retirees. My dick was indiscriminately thrust into so many holes that I’m surprised I haven’t come down with some disease because I wasn’t always careful either. The long and the short of it is that I became a misogynist. I fucking hated women, and I fucked them hard to make sure they knew.
But the women ate it up, for reasons that are beyond me. Sure, I have a huge dick. Sure, there are some ladies who get off on being fucked so violently that their teeth rattle as their internal organs are being rearranged. Sure, I was generous too. I left a lot of them with cash payouts, in addition to expensive jewelry because the rough beating their cunts took was downright insane. But still, I wouldn’t want to sleep with me because it was clear I just wanted some action, emotions be damned. Hell, it was better if they cried because that meant they weren’t talking.
But after two years, shit gets real old. I missed Kristie, and I couldn’t forget her. It was a madness that took over my soul, and I’d literally scream Kristie’s name sometimes as I filled some whore’s cunt with spunk. I’d beat my dick, aroused and yet furious that I was still thinking about my fucking stepsister. I wouldn’t talk about it either. Steve made a couple attempts to start a conversation, as did my sister Milly. But I shut them down cold, my expression like stone, and after a while, they gave up.
So yeah, I’ve been acting like a male prostitute for two years now. Two years of chasing strange while smearing my spunk on random female faces. Spurting on their breasts, bellies, and backs. Making them scream with agony as well as pleasure, and forgetting their names the moment I walked out the door, if I ever knew it to begin with. It’s a fucked up existence and I was miserable, so when Steve mentioned Vegas, I figured why the hell not? My dad’s getting old and creaky with occasional chest pains, and we should spend some time male bonding before he kicks the bucket. Enjoying some tits and ass wouldn’t hurt either.
But Club Duality isn’t what I expected. I thought we’d hit up some stripper joints, or even a gentlemen’s club, but I didn’t think there’d be an actual auction of whores. What the fuck? How can this be legal? The truth is that it’s probably not, and it’s a goddamn murky situation.
But now, the lights dim as my father and I enjoy drinks in our private booth. The stage lights outside flare for a moment, and I see what I expected. There are other booths lined up shoulder to shoulder beside ours, arranged in a three hundred sixty degree circle around an open area. They’re doubtless filled with other billionaires ready to purchase a woman, the men lounging in the utmost comfort as they get ready to splash out with six figures or more.
My dad grins at me, his teeth and hair ghastly white in the darkness.