The Madam (5 page)

“After everything I have ever given you. It
has always been nothing but the fucking best money could buy.” She
shook her head in disgust. “I don’t know what came over me, Lilith,
but I decided that I wanted to scope out your room. To my surprise,
I find that my daughter smokes weed; not only that but she has her
own bag, and it’s fucking bottom grade hash.”

She grabbed both bags, one in each hand.

“This,” she stated, moving her right hand,
“is garbage. It’s what homeless people smoke, lower income
individuals, people who live off the fucking government. How do you
live, Lilith? Huh?”

“Now, this,” she stated, moving her left
hand, “is top quality, medical grade marijuana. This is what people
who live like you do, darling, smoke.”

She threw my bag in the garbage, opened her
bag and started to roll a joint. I had seen Alexandria do it many
times before.

“If you’re going to do something, Lilith,
then do it fucking right the first time. Don’t ever let me find
anything but the goddamn best anywhere near your pretty little face
again. Do I make myself clear?” she questioned.

I nodded. I couldn’t say a word. You would
think that this should shock me. In reality it didn’t. My mother
was not your average PTA parent, as you can see. If I was going to
do anything, then it needed to be the best. Period. She finished
rolling the joint, bit off the end, and lit it up. She took three
hits and handed it to me.

“Take it and hit it,” she instructed, waiting
for me to do the same.

“Hold it in for as long as you can,” she
demanded, and I did until my lungs burned and I couldn’t hold it in
anymore, which made me cough for a minute straight. I heard my
mother laugh.

“Do it again,” she insisted in a lighter tone
than before. I smoked half the joint before I passed it back to my
mother. She hit it a few more times and put it out.

“How do you feel?”

“Fucked up,” I replied without thinking,
making my mother laugh.

“Mother-daughter bonding at its best,” she
added, comically laughing.

We spent the next few hours talking,
laughing, and eating. It was one of the most memorable times I had
with her. But this was just the beginning.

After that night, my mother allowed me to
come to some of her smaller parties at the house. At first, she
watched me like a hawk, but after the first few times I didn’t see
her as often. It was difficult to be the center of attention when
my mother was around. She always owned the room wherever we were. I
found myself getting bored and I would retreat to our boat dock to
watch the yachts go by.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing
back here by herself?” a deep, dark, sexy voice said from behind
me.

I turned to find an older, attractive man. He
was dressed in a suit, similar to what I had always seen my father
wear. His hair was blonde and combed back in a slick style, with
bright green eyes, and a narrow jaw line. He had both hands in his
suit jacket and he was leaning on the railing with his legs
crossed. He looked ready to attack and I jumped on the opportunity.
You can’t really blame me, I was never around men my own age, and I
had somewhat of a daddy complex.

“What’s your name?” he questioned with his
head cocked to the side and a shit-eating grin on his face.

And…this is where shit hit the fan in my
brain. He had no fucking idea that I was Madam’s daughter. I jumped
on the opportunity like a fish does to water.

I stood up and walked toward him. “Veronica,”
I replied, using my middle name as I extended my hand to shake his.
I was wearing four-inch heels and I came up to his chin, he must
have been 6’4.

“Julian,” he responded as we shook hands.

“To answer your question, I was admiring the
view,” I said, trying to sound confident.

“As was I.” he grinned.

I batted my eyelashes and grinned right back.
Julian and I talked about meaningless things as we watched the
endless ocean, flirting and laughing until it was well past one in
the morning. I knew my mother would come looking for me soon and I
did not want her to catch me with Julian.

“It’s getting late, I have to go,” I stated,
getting up as he grabbed my hand to stop me.

“I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

I smiled. “I don’t need a chaperone.”

“How about a companion?” I could almost pick
up a hint of desperation in his question that lit my insides on
fire.

"Companion, hmmm, I might like that. I'll see
you around, Julian.” I gave him my best seductive smile and walked
away with sway in my step.

A part of me always knew that my mother ran a
risky business. I knew that beautiful women belonged to not only
The Cathouse, but also my mother. I guess I even knew sex was
involved somehow. I lived in the same house, saw beautiful women
enter rooms with my mother. I had to be pretty naïve not to know. I
didn’t really know the extent of my mother’s business until one
afternoon when my mother took a call during lunch.

I listened attentively as she set up an
appointment for a male physical with Dr. Casler, whom, I’d also
come to know over the years.

“Why would you be making a doctor’s
appointment for a client, Mother?” I curiously asked.

She looked up from the paperwork in front of
her with a raised eyebrow, “My my, Lilith, what big ears you
have?”

“Just curious,” I responded boldly, showing
her no fear.

She removed the paperwork from her desk and
replaced it with the VIP book that I had snooped through years
ago.

“I’ve been meaning to have this conversation
with you. I just hadn’t figured out the right time to do so. No
time like the present.” She hit the intercom button on her phone,
“Madelyn, I am not to be interrupted for the rest of the afternoon.
Have Philippe bring the 1961 Chateau Palmer Margaux. Thank
you.”

She sighed and looked at me. “Darling, you
have no idea how long I have waited to have this talk. From the
moment you were born, you were meant for greater things, things
that the average person will never be able to achieve. A lifestyle
made only for a VIP.”

“How do you think you live like this? What do
you think I do? Let’s start there,” she suggested.

“I’m not-”

“Bullshit,” she interrupted me. “Lilith, have
I ever taken my eyes off you? Do you honestly think that you can do
anything in this home and I not see it? I have eyes everywhere,
darling. For example, look behind you, Lilith,” she instructed with
a point of her finger. I turned to see a framed picture of a man
and a woman.

“Do you see that painting? I know you do.
That painting has a hidden camera. I have cameras all over the
house. I don’t have one in your room, but that doesn’t mean for one
goddamn second that I don’t know what you do in there. Now…let’s
try this again, shall we?” she questioned, again pausing. “What do
you think I do?”

I licked my lips in nervousness. My mother
had seen everything throughout the years, and I had no fucking
clue. I fought the urge to pick through my memories for the things
she could have caught me doing, but knew I didn’t have enough time
for that. She asked a question and needed an answer.

“I know it has something to do with VIP. I
don’t know what it means, but I know that you’re called Madam. You
only have women that work for you or with you. I know that it
involves sex and stuff.”

“Mmm hmm…and what exactly do you know about
sex and stuff, Lilith?”

“I know that it’s supposed to be intimate and
with a man and a woman who love each other.” I responded with the
best answer I had; it wasn’t like we’d ever had the birds and bees
talk.

“Mmm hmm…and what if they don’t? Huh? What if
they just want to fuck? Is that not all right? Tell me the rules
here.”

“Mother, I-” I started to say, unsure of how
to respond.

“Enough,” she reprimanded as she handed me
the glass of wine that Philippe had poured. I took it without
hesitation, needing something to do with my hands while we had this
vexatious conversation.

“You are nervous, Lilith. Why? I’m your
mother. There is no need for fear here. I want you to just listen.
I’ll do the talking, all right?” I nodded; thankful I could just
sit back and listen without having to answer any more of her
disturbing questions.

“Lilith, what I do sets me apart from the
rest of the world. I have the liberty to do something that makes a
difference in people’s lives. I provide a service for those who
need and want it. In return, I get the luxury of living a life most
people only dream of.” She smiled tenuously as she sensed my
confusion.

“VIP stands for Very Important Pussy. You do
know what pussy means, right?” she asked me.

“Yes.” I felt the unfamiliar blush on my
cheeks.

“Lovely. Say it,” she nonchalantly
demanded.

“Excuse me?”

“Say the word pussy,” she repeated, this time
with more authority.

I swallowed the saliva that had formed in my
mouth. “Pussy.”

She grinned. “Do you see how easy it rolls
off the tongue? It was meant to. Pussy should be a word that is
celebrated! It could have several meanings, but the bottom line is,
pussy is meant to be shared. Sharing is caring, darling,” she
explained.

“I own VIP, which means, I own pussy. Since I
own it, I cherish it, I take care of it, and I provide for it. VIP
is a multibillion-dollar organization that is run by me and only
me. Before it landed in my hands, it was owned by your ancestors,
all of who were women. This mansion, it’s The Cathouse; it’s the
headquarters of where everything gets started. Questions?”

“What does any of it have to do with me?” I
asked.

“It has absolutely everything to do with you.
I am going to make you a VIP…once I feel that you’re ready, of
course. It’s illegal before the age of eighteen to have consensual
sex with an adult, but…a lot happens behind closed doors. I made
you, therefore I get to get to decide what’s appropriate, not the
state of Florida,” she professed as she sipped her glass.

“Do you mean, like prostitution?”

“Child, do I look like the type of woman that
could be a pimp? My girls are treated for what they are, very
important pussies. They have the best of the best, sleep with only
the best, and have total control, to a certain extent that is. I of
course have to have the final say. These girls are paid thousands
upon thousands for an hour of their time. You’ll never see one of
them giving a hand job in the back of a car or standing on some
street corner waiting for someone to choose them.

“Men…and women, pay immense money for their
time. You’ll learn, Lilith, you’ll soon find out that the pussy
between your legs is golden,” she stated, pointing to in between my
legs. “You’ll learn to use it to your advantage.”

“You want me to sell myself?” I asked in
shock.

My mother laughed. “Say it, Lilith.”

“Say what?” I asked in confusion.

“Say pussy. You can say it, use it freely,
embrace it and the fact that your little pussy is going to make you
a very happy girl,” she clarified.

“What do you mean?”

“Lilith, my dear. Don’t play coy with me.
It’s in your blood, it’s who you are, it’s what you were made for.
I don’t have to watch to know that you’ve played with your own
pussy. It’s an ache, a calling, a motherfucking throbbing need for
you to want to pleasure yourself; it’s what you are bred for. I
know you know how good it feels. You have no idea what you’re in
for or how good a man, or even a woman, can make your pussy feel.”
When I felt my cheeks burn, flaming with embarrassment, she yelled,
“LOOK UP!”

I was startled but she continued. “Don’t you
ever turn away from me when I am talking to you. You have nothing
to be ashamed of. You’re beautiful. You have a beautiful pussy and
I’m going to teach you how to use it. Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, trying to find my
inner strength.

“Are you scared, Lilith? Are you hearing that
voice in the back of your mind? It’s telling you all sorts of
things. Well, that voice, it’s not your conscience; it’s fear.
Don’t ever let that voice be heard. Do. You. Understand. Me.” I
nodded in silent agreement.

She smiled. “Great! Question portion can
begin; I know you have them. Let’s hear them.”

I had absolutely no idea where to even begin.
My head was spinning with the revelations of what my mother had
disclosed. I felt anxious, nervous, intimidated, but most of all, I
felt liberated. I had always felt different, and it wasn’t from my
upbringing. It was from something inside of me, a feeling, a
presence.

My interests, motivations, and aspirations
from the time I was child always led back to sex. I dreamt about
it, and pleasured myself to something I had no idea about. It was
just an ache. I had hundreds of questions for my mother, and I knew
she would have answered them.

I didn’t want to ask…I didn’t want her to
tell me….

I don’t ask questions, I make my own
answers.

I wanted to feel it.

I wanted to experience it.

I wanted to learn it all on my own terms.

I didn’t want to wait.

I wanted to be a VIP now.

In the
weeks that followed, my mother began molding me into a VIP. Of
course, I was still only sixteen, but it started innocently enough.
My daily wardrobe changed, my heels got higher, and my dresses and
skirts shorter. I had everything below my eyebrows waxed, and a new
colorful drawer full of lingerie. My mother called it baby
steps.

I followed all her directions and guidelines.
Little did she know I had my own agenda. She planted the seed and I
was going to water it and watch it grow. I had to take matters into
my own hands, literally. I waited till my mother was out of town to
execute the first part of a very thought out plan. It took me a
while to find a place where they sold such toys, but never
underestimate the power of a curious woman.