Daddy's House (14 page)

I looked down at Daddy, who rested his head on the lower part of my stomach. He pressed his head into me, as if he was in ecstasy. Strangely, he felt good. Real good. I longed to be touched, held by a man. A real man, not the G. Rock type.

Daddy just held on to me tightly, not making any moves. I was starting to enjoy my time with him, and strangely began to love everything about him, or maybe just his ability to protect me. I thought about the way he walked, his cool style, his power, and all of it had me twisted all of a sudden. I wanted him. And apparently, he wanted me too.

Daddy had managed to slip his hand up my dress, and was now fully caressing my ass. The feel of his warm hands drove me insane. As fast as I could, I lifted my leg about three inches off the ground, forcing his hand closer to my good stuff. Whether he bit or not, I wanted him to know I was game.

My next move even shocked Daddy. When my lips attacked his large juicy lips, he flinched. For me, the chemistry seemed so real.

Suddenly, Daddy stood up, and moved two steps away from me. I watched him as he headed toward the door quickly. My guess to make sure it was locked.

“
I can’t get down with the talent,” he said, opening the door. “It’s one of my oldest rules.” He looked at me sadly, as if he really wanted to stay. I never said a word, just stood there in shock; more like embarrassed. The moment the door shut, I moved closer, and leaned against it, just hoping he would return. He never came back.

Chapter Twelve

The next day came fast, too fast. Ms. Dottie must’ve gotten word about my new quota, ‘cause she hollered at me in the middle of another boring-ass emergency meeting about not getting to my hair appointment on time. I hadn’t even been in the house for a month yet, and I was

already sick of the worthless meetings.

“
I’m on my way in a sec,” I huffed.

“
Oh…so you on your way,” she countered, writing something on her clipboard. “That’s not good enough. You should’a been there!” She looked at her watch. “I told you to see Claude by twelve, and to look your best all day.”

“
All day?” I questioned. My face twisted up into a knot real quick. Then I contemplated my fate.
I could
always leave...live on the streets...stay on the run
, I thought. Then decided against it.

My arm changed positions on the couch. I was getting more comfortable, instead of heading to the back of the house like she instructed, and I know that pissed her off. I

scanned the room, noticing the other girls watching me from the corner of their eyes. Most were hatin’. I could feel it. But some just couldn’t believe how I was starting to handle Ms. Dottie.
Is she really expecting me to continue to jump as soon as her ass says something? That shit

is getting real old.

“
Cat’s gone now. So the pressure is on,” Cinnamon commented to us all. “We gotta make this money.”

“
That’s right,” Ms. Dottie said, pulling a stack of white envelopes from her bag. “Last week’s pay was good for some, but not all. You’ll see when you take a look at your cash.” She passed out the envelopes, and one-by-one the complaints started.

“
What the fuck you do?” Sushi blurted out.

“
Oh, you got three deductions, Sushi. Check your statement. Fine #1- still hogging the gym. Fine #2- Misuse of phone time. And Fine #3- disrespecting me at the last meeting.” She grinned devilishy. “That’s two hundred in fines.”

By the time I had opened my envelope, two other people jumped up with complaints, because their money was short as well. Even though my cash was $350.00 short, I smiled. They obviously had decided to charge me for beating Cat’s ass. It was my first time on the payroll since I’d been in the house, and my first big pay date since I’d departed from my mother. My twelve hour days at Texaco didn’t pay shit.

When I signed up for this slutty-ass gig, Ms. Dottie told me I’d make thirty percent of the money I brought in. I wasn’t sure what kind of calculations they had done, ‘cause it seemed like they were pencil whipping me by the looks of the statement, but something was better than

nothing.

As soon as Ms. Dottie announced the meeting was over, I made my way toward the hair salon. Out of the blue, a new face caught my attention. A young white chick, who looked to be in her late teens, was being drilled with questions by my good friend, Dr. Charles. The asshole had the same black doctor’s bag he carried when he did his finger assault move on me.

I watched as the girl twirled her hair with her index finger, giving off one seductive laugh after another. She was either trying to charm him, or get charmed. Little did she know he was a rapist with a doctor’s degree. Then she got hit with a big surprise. Ms. Dottie walked up on her

like the police.

“
You haven’t even been officially hired yet, and you flirting with the damn doctor.”

“
Ahh...ahh…we were just talking,” the young girl replied.

“
Yeah, I know,” Ms. Dottie countered.

“
I was just waiting for her to be assigned a room. Wasn’t sure if you had a free bed,” Dr. Charles added.

“
You got that right,” Ms. Dottie bragged. “An empty bed means we’re losing money. Gotta keep’em coming. Just so happens, Ms. Candy here helped you get a spot young lady,” she said sarcastically. “So thank her.” I was caught off guard, ‘cause I was supposed to just be passing by, pretending like I wasn’t paying attention to their conversation.

“
Candice meet Jordan. Jordan meet Candice,” Ms. Dottie said.

To my surprise, the girl had good manners.

“
Jordan DeVaughn,” she said, giving me her first and last name. I started to say Danielle Crouch, using the name I’d used in the witness protection program, but quickly decided against it. Besides, Ms. Dottie didn’t know who Danielle Crouch was anyway, so saying that would’ve definitely put her ass in question mode. I gave the white girl a smile, and shot the doc a disapproving stare. His weird-ass just winked at me.

“
Alright, Candy, that’s enough socializing. Go get dolled up,” Ms. Dottie ordered.

I marched past them, and headed for an hour of having my hair washed and curled to perfection. The hair-dresser, for some reason, wanted me to look fabulous. He said

he’d gotten word that I was gonna be the top girl around the house soon, and I guess he’d heard right. Now with Cat gone, I was the TPIC-Top Pussy In Charge.

****

By the time my makeover was complete, the other girls had seen eight guys already. Things were pumping, as Daddy would say, and cash was filing in the door. I knew I had to out-do them all, so snagging the next big fish to come through the door wasn’t an option.

I went to the showroom and plopped down in the chair, waiting for the next John to arrive, when Sushi offered me a drink. I didn’t normally drink in the middle of the day, but I took it. I needed something to calm my nerves, and prepare me for the waiting game.

Just as I downed my drink, a brother was escorted to the showroom. He stood about 5’7, and looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. I stood up, ready to go for it, since my only competition was Sushi, Cinnamon and the new girl, Jordan, who was shaking her ass like crazy. All the

other girls were upstairs with Johns they’d snagged earlier.

Even though I was the only one standing, he walked around the room, surveying us like new cars. I looked down at his Tims and baggy pants, thinking he might want Sushi. He looked like a rough neck, ready to snatch one of Sushi’s body piercings out in the heat of the moment.

Wrong. He stood over Sushi’s chair, then moved straight in the direction of the new girl. The size of her eyes doubled.

“
This the only white chick you got?” he asked Ms. Dottie.

“
For now,” she answered, like it was killing her to have patience.

“
She’ll do. Lead the way,” he replied.

Damn, her ass hasn’t even been here a day and she’s getting picked already
. However, I sat back down, thankful that it wasn’t me. He had no class, no style, and probably no real money. It took another half an hour before the next potential showed up. I couldn’t see what he looked like, ‘cause my back was turned, with my face buried in the Sister to Sister Magazine. I lifted my head just a bit, and noticed the ladies’ faces seemed to be brighter than before. The momentum had quickly picked up for some

reason.

“
Ladies, you know the drill,” Ms. Dottie said with authority. “Stand up,” she ordered, raising her hand.

I wasn’t sure what to do, so I followed the other girls. It took me only a second to realize they were lining up, and striking their sexiest next top model poses.
What the
fuck?
We didn’t normally do this shit when individual men came into the room.

I looked over to see a dark-skinned man pimping around the room with a humongous white fury kango on top of a head full of grease. His hair made my skin crawl the way it stood stiff, touching the surface of his white faux fur.

“
This is the greatest muthufuckin’ show on earth!” he shouted, pimping around the room. “Lemme see what we workin’ wit.”

We lined up side by side, supposedly standing at attention. My stance was wack. I figured with a missing tooth, and a tarnished silver pimp cup in his hand, he was a true loser. I was pretty much doing it on purpose, until Cinnamon hunched my arm.

“
He got big money,” she whispered. “And he real quick too.”

My eyes lit up like a light bulb. I prayed my tight black halter shirt was appealing enough as he got closer to me. He stopped at each girl, like a Sergeant in the military questioning each of us. He touched, prodded, and did whatever he wanted, to help him make his decision.

“
What yo name is?” he asked School Teacher’s sister.

“
Bambi,” she answered meekly.

“
No, I’m not tryin’ to fuck no Disney characters.”

He shook his head and kept moving down the line.

When he got to me, I instantly knew he was a boob man. He leaned over just a bit and sniffed my cleavage. Never said a word.

“
Mmmmph, mmmmph, mmmmph,” the Don Juan look a like said, eyeing me in the face. “Oh, this is it,” he said, in Ms. Dottie’s direction. “I want lil’ magic,” he announced. “That’s my final answer,” he added, with confidence.

Who the fuck is lil magic?
I wondered.

When I realized he was pulling on my arm, I hopped out of line. “Why did you call me lil’ magic?” I finally asked.

“
Cause you look like you can make shit dis-a-ppear,” he said, hesitating between each syllable. “Mmmmmm, ummmph.” He leaned back on his two-inch high clogs before continuing. “Damn, girl…fuck a dime, yous a fifty-cent piece.”

Why in the hell did I have to get this clown
? I hesitated for a moment, until he flipped his wad, waving about thirty hundreds in my face. I wasn’t sure if I was getting them all, but even fifteen would work. I remembered Daddy’s words. “You gotta make double.” Then I thought

about Cinnamon saying he was quick.

“
You ready for me, baby?” he asked.

A smile appeared on my face. “Umm, huh,” I mumbled, and took him upstairs to my room.
Damn, I hope
Cinnamon was right.

Once inside my room, I dimmed the lights, and made a comfortable spot on the bed for him to lay back and relax. Each pillow was fluffed to perfection, while he stood behind me and watched. I figured I’d give him a lot of foreplay, then he’d be extra quick, and I’d be back downstairs to make more money.

“
Lay down for a minute,” I told him. “Let’s get to know each other a bit.”

“
Know you…baby, I don’t need to get to know you. He the only one who you need to meet,” he replied, pointing to his dick.

“
What’s your name then?” I asked, feeling a lil’ uncomfortable. Hands down, I liked the atmosphere where I’d met G. Rock better than this. At least we could mingle a bit, not just come upstairs and start fucking like dogs in heat. I wanted to stay in a mindset that told me this job was temporary, and that I was only dating these Johns.

By now, I figured Mr. Pimp wasn’t gonna tell me his name. He started acting weird by circling my body. The more he walked in circles, the dizzier I became. It could’ve been the multi-colored shirt he’d just taken off and thrown across my bed.

I took his lead, and starting taking my shirt off too. But he stopped me in the process. “Start from the bottom,” he said.

My movements were slow as I removed my pants, one leg at a time. Once again, Mr. Pimp circled me. This time, he stopped and locked his eyes on my ass. I looked over my shoulder to check his focus. Instantly, he dropped his pants down to his knees. No underwear…no

boxers…nothing was in sight. Standing there ass-naked was a pitiful situation. I just stared in a daze with my lip hanging, and mouth wide open. I was helping him out by giving him two inches.

“
Do you like italain sausages?” he asked, pulling on his tiny dick.
Honey, that’s more like a Vienna Sausage
, I thought.“Simon says, bend over and touch your muthafuckin’ toes,” he commanded.