A LITTLE REALITY
ANGELINA, A LITTLE REALITY
The man who took my virginity didn’t rape me – Mama took his money so that’s all the consent he needs, apparently. The fact that I cried and begged him to stop the entire time didn’t matter – in fact, if anything, I would say it excited him more. At no point did the pain give way to pleasure as Mama promised, the entire experience was nothing short of excruciating and I didn’t sit properly for nearly two weeks afterwards.
Once Mama deemed I was healthy enough, I was put ‘back into circulation’. Given my young age, I was extremely popular – it would seem a lot of men have fantasies about teenage girls. They especially liked it when I was ‘the babysitter’ – for some reason that really worked for many of them. The older I got, it got ‘easier’ - I had an established client base so things weren’t as bad. Even now as I turn twenty and I’m facing the completion of my second full year of this reality, I only cry myself to sleep four nights a week instead of every night, like I used to.
I’m either getting used to things or dying inside.
The rules at ‘Mama’s Place’ are simple – don’t hurt the girls and wear a condom. All of us girls are on the shot as a backup but condoms are still mandatory – unless you’re willing to pay the extra price, then the risk is on us. We have no say in the matter, if we did there would be no way in hell any stranger would be cumming in us unsheathed but Mama makes the rules, not us.
We just work here.
Mama makes the money, not us.
She pays us enough to keep going but never enough to leave, to move out and start a new life doing something else. She has us trapped and she knows it. So until I stop making money for her – at which time, God help me because who knows what she does to those poor girls – I’m stuck here. Two years… two years of letting men use my body for their sexual pleasure – of being nothing more than an orifice for them to empty themselves into. Two years of being nothing more than tits, pussy and ass – no longer an individual with thoughts and feelings because none of those matter.
You can’t fuck feelings.
The men who pay to spend time at Mama’s Place aren’t coming here to discuss the latest financial crisis or what is happening now in global warming – they come here to forget all of that. They want to forget their wives and children, their jobs and demands – they leave all of that at the door and embrace their primal dark sides for the short while they’re here.
They’re not allowed to hurt us but they can still be… rough.
There’s making love, having sex and then there’s ‘fucking’ and around here – us girls are nothing more than fuck toys. Some girls are here willingly – they are making money while having as much sex as they can enjoy and I envy those women, I truly do. They look at the act of sex as nothing more than greeting someone by kissing their cheek – it is a pleasurable act between two people seeking the same thing – release. Those women like their jobs so much they often brag about the numbers of orgasms they have during their shifts, during the brief times we talk to one another. There isn’t a lot of ‘down time’ at Mama’s Place but us girls still manage to stay in contact.
I have never had an orgasm.
I don’t like sex; I don’t enjoy it in any way. Ever since my first time I have looked at it as a job I’m forced to do – by doing so I try to remove myself emotionally as much as possible. These men only want my body anyways, they don’t care if I’m mentally doing grocery lists or traipsing through a meadow. This is the only way I’ve survived this long – I wanted to die after I lost my virginity. I had dreamed of saving it for my wedding night and sharing that special moment with my husband and instead, a complete stranger in his sixties rutted his way through my shouts of misery.
Afterwards, I threw up my cake.
But now, after two years – it is automatic. Whether I’m sucking a dick or pretending to have the best orgasm of my life – I haven’t been ‘here’ in months. I function, I talk and I perform but I no longer feel… I no longer care. I died inside the day I turned eighteen and there will never be any going back to the person I used to be – that Angelina is gone forever.
Mama has made sure of that, again, and again, and again….
MAVERICK, R&R and T&A
“Mama’s Place is fantastic – all the pussy you can dream of – if you have a type, she’s got it – all you gotta do is ask – and pay” our Vice-President Reid informs us. Our gang is well known in these parts and when we walk into any establishment, even a hen house like Mama’s Place – we command respect. Our name is whispered rather than said in polite conversation, out of fear of drawing our attention, so powerful is our reputation. The West Coast Operators run drugs and guns – those are our main areas of operation and business is good.
As Head of Security for our local chapter, I ensure the area is safe before I let Reid exit the vehicle. I scan carefully, looking for any signs of our opponents or even cops but see nothing that causes me concern. Once I open the door, Reid wastes no time climbing out and making his way into the building – pussy awaits.
The main part of the club is what every strip club looks like – neon lights and bare-chested beauties walking around, offering themselves for a variety of activities. Since Reid is here to party and partake, I will be staying sober and alert – Mama’s Place is in neutral territory so any of our enemies could come in at any time looking to party themselves. My mere appearance is enough to keep the majority of people away and only the most determined of girls makes any attempts to seduce me – all of which are quickly refuted. Seeing all of the bare tits walking around is exceedingly distracting and keeping me rock hard so I’m very relieved when Reid makes his way to ‘Mama’, to put in his special request. I didn’t want to come here in the first place – these sorts of places make me uncomfortable despite the allure of half-naked women all over the damn place.
I follow Reid and we enter the elevator, heading up to the fourth floor. He knocks lightly on a door before letting himself in using the key card he purchased downstairs and I can only assume there is a woman inside waiting for him. I take my guard position outside his door in the hallway to wait – Reid has the room for an hour and there is literally nothing else for me to do. Knowing him, he’s going to make the most of his time with the poor girl and get every penny’s worth so I’m going to be standing here awhile.
Nothing I haven’t done before.
I’m settling in when Reid comes racing out of the room like his hair is on fire, only twenty or so minutes after going in. Startled, I assume a defensive stance and pull out my gun, ready to fight or defend – whatever he needs. Reid sees me and tells me to relax , then silently indicates for me to follow him. I of course, do what I’m told, being careful to not show on my face what I’m thinking about his quick performance in the bedroom – embarrassing!
Reid is silent and tense all the way back to the car and as soon as we pull away, he lights up a cigarette, his hand visibly shaking. Concerned, I wait silently for him to tell me what is going on – I don’t know if he’s upset or angry but something has him worked up and if it is someone, their days are numbered based on his body language alone.
“I’m waiting for Pierce,” is all he says before going silent again. I nod in agreement, not having anything else to do or say about it, knowing I’m going to have to wait. Pierce is our President so clearly something happened inside Mama’s Place and Reid is going straight to the top with it – I’m guessing something bad. I have goosebumps forming along my skin and all of the hair is suddenly standing straight up all over my body – something is going on; I just have no idea what.
The driver gets us back to the compound in no time and drops us at the clubhouse doors. Our setup is similar to a bikers’ hangout except we don’t allow any outsiders on site – if you show up uninvited, you never leave. We also don’t keep women around for sex – if you aren’t in the gang, you aren’t here. If someone needs to get laid – there are lots of places to go for that, like Mama’s Place. We own remote land outside the city for a reason – and it isn’t for farming. I get out first and do a perimeter scan as I always do, even though we’re in safe territory I always go by the book – you never know when things can go to shit. Once I’m reassured, I open the door for Reid who immediately hops out and races into the clubhouse. I follow him in, anxious to not miss out on whatever he has to say. Pierce is sitting at the bar, nursing a whiskey when he sees Reid fly into the room. This immediately puts everyone on a high level of alert even though they have no idea what is going on.
“That was the fastest fuck in history, you embarrassing motherfucker,” Prez jokes at Reid’s expense. In total we were gone less than an hour – it isn’t a good showing.
“Prez, I need to speak to you,” Reid nearly shouts, wiping the smile right off Prez’s face. Reid’s anxiety is evident, his desperation causing him to break out in a sweat. Prez stands, finishes his drink in one swallow then turns to Reid.
“Let’s go to my office,” he says simply before leading the way. He gives me a nod, letting me know I’m to follow and I close the door once the three of us are inside. Prez sits down behind his desk but Reid paces back and forth in front, his agitation keeping him from sitting.
“I was just at Mama’s Place with Mav,” Reid explains to Prez, telling him what he already knows. Prez indicates he already knows this and to get on with it. Reid doesn’t slow in his pacing – in fact, I’d go so far as to say he doesn’t notice Prez at all.
“I think there’s something wrong with that place,” he says ominously.