Chapter 2

That wasn’t the first or last time that my mother fired my nanny. Let me rephrase that, that wasn’t the first or last time my mother fired someone who worked for her and had to “assist” her with raising me. There was never anyone good enough for her, she always wanted more, always wanted better, but could never find it. Nothing was ever good enough for “her Lilith”.

By the time I was eight, I had gone through seven nannies, eight violin instructors, four tennis coaches, nine linguist professors, and that’s just the tip of iceberg. For a while, I thought my mother’s favorite phrase was “you’re fired”, she was the Donald fucking Trump of the Upper East Side. I learned early on to not get attached to people; they could leave just as fast as they entered my life. I also learned how to keep secrets at an entirely young age. My nannies always felt bad for me and I learned how to manipulate that feeling early on. Manipulation is the key to getting what you want; always remember that.

I had them eating out of the palm of my hand and all it took was a “please”, “thank you”, and a smile. They would sneak me chocolate, let me eat cheeseburgers, and ice cream quickly became my favorite obsession. I wanted Barbies, charm bracelets, an easy bake fucking oven. Would my mother allow that? Hell no! Did I have it? Hell yes! I was lucky enough to have a mother who traveled at any point in time, for days at a time. It was easy to hide things. She had no idea where my sock drawer was, let alone where I hid my treasures. I had them scattered in different places and not ever did I get caught.

My most valued memories were when my nanny would take me to the local park. It became our secret pact. She knew that I controlled her paycheck and I knew she controlled my freedom. You could say that I was an honest and upfront little girl.

They say children have no filter and repeat everything they hear.

“My mother told me that what I have between my legs can control you bowing at my heels,” I carelessly told the boy next to me as we continued to build in the sandbox.

“Really, let me see!” he enthusiastically shouted as he threw down his shovel to face me completely.

“Okay!” I screeched in return as I turned to face him to pull up my dress to expose my white ruffled panties.

He cocked his head to the side while confusingly studying my underwear. “There’s no candy. That’s just your no-no place.” I shrugged and we returned to playing.

My mother loved me; she cared about me and made sure that I had everything I "needed". Yes, she could be the ice queen of all ice queens. She made me aware that I was the center of her universe in everything she did. I observed everything she did for me. I think I was maybe nine, the first time I'd really gotten into trouble. It was late on a Saturday night; my nanny had already retired for the evening and had left me alone. I wasn't tired yet and I wanted a drink. I wandered down the hall and descended the stairs in my satin nightgown and fuzzy slippers. I knew I wasn't allowed out of my room that late, especially on a Saturday night. The rule was that I needed to call my nanny if I needed anything.

As I came down the last step, I could hear a humming sound and my mother talking. She was speaking in a low sultry tone, and I was sure she'd gotten me a kitten or something.

“That's it, yes, Jasmine, rub it right there; just like that," I heard her say.

I had to look; the excitement got the better of me. I'd been asking for a kitten for months. What I saw made me gasp. My mother instantly turned in her black pinstriped suit, as did the naked woman on the couch who immediately covered herself. My mother on the other hand cocked her head to the side, raised one hand to her hip, and smirked. I turned around and took off running. I shut my door and quickly covered myself with my blankets feigning sleep, quietly praying that my mother would not approach me about what I had witnessed.

Moments later, I heard the door open and her heels tapping on the tile floor. I closed my eyes tight and swallowed the saliva that had formed in my mouth.

She sighed. “Lilith, I know you’re not sleeping,” she said calmly.

“Turn and face me, NOW!” The tone in her voice made me jump. I slowly took off my blankets, scooted to the end of my bed where my legs dangled off the edge. I cautiously looked up at my mother sitting on my chase lounger, arms to her sides, resting on the back of the settee.

“You have been a very bad girl, Lilith. What are the rules past nine?” I didn’t say anything; I was scared shitless.

“I asked you a question and I expect an answer. Do not make me ask you again,” she threatened in a voice I had never heard before.

“I-um-I’m-I…” I mumbled and my mother’s irritation grew.

“What the hell? You are further pissing me off. Now you’re showing me weakness. What are the rules in this house, child?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Do not cry, show no fear or weakness, always say please and thank you, and never leave my bedroom past 9 pm,” I said, just above a whisper.

“Yes, those are the rules until you hear otherwise,” she reminded me.

“You’re going to be ten this year and I know that there will come a time when I will need to inform you of everything that you are meant for, Lilith. Now is not that time. One day what you saw will make sense to you. I promise. As for right now, there are consequences to every action and this one is yours. Come to me. Now!”

I gathered my emotions one last time before approaching my mother, mere inches away from her face.

“Remove your panties.” I took a deep breath before I nodded and did as I was told. She grabbed my upper arm and moved me to lie over her lap.

“Bend over, do not arch your back, and don’t you dare try to cover yourself, or cry.”

She raised her arm high above her head. “Count.”

SLAP! I gasped from the surprised shock of the pain. “One…” I barely let out.

SLAP! “Two,” I said through gritted teeth.

SLAP! “Three. Please, Mother, no more…please!” I pleaded.

“Two more for begging.”

SLAP! “Four, four, four,” I shouted in misery.

SLAP! “FIVE!” I yelled, trying to hold the tears at bay. When I didn’t hear or feel any movement from my mother, I shuddered in relief allowing my body to go lax from the stiff position. It was over; I had survived the first physical punishment my mother ever handed me. I attempted to try to soothe my ache and my mother immediately grabbed my hand.

“Don’t do it,” she reminded in an agitated tone. “Sit down, Lilith.” I closed my eyes and bit my lower lip as I removed myself from my mother’s lap to slowly descend on the couch.

She shook her head, “Tsk tsk tsk, Lilith, sit on the floor.” She must have sensed that I was about to plead with her. “Don’t,” she repeated with a pointed finger.

When I finally sat on the tile floor, I had to push my fingernails into my skin to stop myself from crying. I knew if I cried I was done for, this was the first test of control my mother showed me, not just for her, but for myself as well.

“I’m proud of you, darling. You will sit like that for the next hour, then you will brush your teeth again, and you will go to bed. Do you understand me?” she patronizingly asked and I nodded.

“I love you, Lilith.”

“I love you, too.” She kissed my forehead and left me to wallow in my own misery without so much as me shedding one tear.

<>-<>-<>-<>

I should have been thinking about the stinging on my ass in the months that followed. Instead, I wasn't thinking about that. I was thinking about my mother and that woman. I couldn’t help where my mind went when it wandered, or when I was dreaming. I had woken up with a tingling feeling in between my legs more times than I could count. A few weeks after my tenth birthday, I awoke from the most intense dream I had ever had. It was similar to what I saw the naked woman doing to herself. I had this burning feeling in my private area. They say curiosity killed the cat; well I fucking murdered that pussy. I discovered myself when I was ten years old. My hand wandered and took over of its own accord. I didn’t see a happy ending by any means, but I did figure out that if touched correctly, eventually something would happen and it could be mind-blowing.

I tried hard not to defy my mother after the night she waylaid my ass, but I was still a child, and sometimes the curiosity got the better of me. I remember the first time I knew I wanted to be just like my mother, not just in little girl terms. I knew at the age of eleven, I wanted to be just like her. She was out of town. I knew she wasn’t coming home that night, she’d already called to tell me goodnight. I quietly crept out of my room and tip toed to my mother’s bedroom, which was all the way across the other side of our mansion.

When I finally made it to her bedroom door, I could feel the nervousness and anxiousness in my stomach. I felt as though I might throw up. I was never allowed in my mother’s room without her being present. That was another rule that was added on my eleventh birthday. I mean seriously, who specifically tells a child they can't go into a room and expects them to listen? I just wanted to see why she didn't want me there.

I took a deep breath and reminded myself that everyone was asleep and my mother was not home. There was no way I could get into trouble. I opened the door, making sure not to make a sound as I closed it behind me. Once it was shut, I locked it and only then did I take my next breath. I turned on the lights and the whole room illuminated like I was in the center of a museum. There were dimmers, low and high lights, spotlights; it was insane how much perfect and specific lighting there was in this room.

I started my mission easily enough; I just looked around, running my fingertips along the furniture and bedding. No harm right? My mother’s room was spectacular! The bed was almost like a black mirror. I could see my reflection in the headboard as I ran my fingers across the shiny footboard. I lifted the hem of my nightgown to wipe away the fingerprints I'd left. At the corner of the headboard, there was this button that I had never seen before. One couldn’t see it unless you knew it was there.

I ran my index finger in a circular motion around it while biting my bottom lip. I pushed it before I gave it another thought and the corner wall unit on the other side of the wall opened. I had no idea that was even there. I started biting my nails as I walked the fifty feet to the opening; I know it was fifty feet because I counted. After that, my feet moved on their own accord as I walked into a room where all the walls were painted a deep burgundy and everything else was black. I had never seen anything like it, not in movies, or in magazines, or in books. There was funny looking furniture everywhere and all sorts of sticks and leather contraptions on the wall. There was something that resembled a cross in the center of the room and straps coming off the ceiling.

It looked like a dungeon and I was terrified that I was going to find a dead body. At the same time, I felt empowered being in this room. I loved that feeling; it was the first time in my life that I felt powerful. I don’t know why I felt that way, just that it was there. I had to find out what was in the dresser; it was calling my name. I opened the first drawer and there were these toys that looked like swords. I picked one up and turned it on and the strong vibration made me drop it on the floor.

I put it away as quickly as I grabbed it and opened the next drawer that held silver metal tools that looked painful and scary. I didn't like that drawer, so I moved on to the next one. It had items that looked like mushrooms inside. The last drawer had leashes, collars, and necklaces that had balls in the middle. I scratched my head because I didn’t understand the concept of this cabinet or room. I took one last look as I walked back into my mother’s bedroom, stopping, I made sure to close the door of the secret room.

I went to her desk next and all the drawers were locked.

“Hmmm if I were my mother where would I hide the key?” I asked myself.

I began frantically searching until I finally found it hidden in a compartment in the corner under the desk. I quickly opened the first drawer and there was a huge black binder that had the inscription “Cathouse” written on the top. I pulled it out and put it on the desk. The first page had a table of contents like the books I read. It listed women’s names, medical information, addresses, and a whole bunch of other information I didn’t understand. As I kept turning the pages, I would see pictures of beautiful women, both clothed and nude. These women were gorgeous, some of them I had seen before and others I hadn’t.

I became bored with the book rather quickly and put it away. What I found in the middle drawer really caught my attention. It was a big black book, and “VIP” was etched on the top. I had heard my mother say VIP all the time. I had no idea what she meant. The book looked like an organizer with thousands and thousands of men’s and women’s names in it. I hadn’t realized how heavy it was and had to use all my strength to put it away. I returned the key to its rightful spot and continued my journey of discovery.

I made my way to the closet, which could have been a large bedroom on its own. I had seen my mother’s clothes before, but never like this. It was breathtakingly beautiful how all the colors and styles were organized. Everything had its place.

At that exact moment, I wanted to be just like my mother.

I wanted everything that my mother had and was.

I wanted to be her.

All it took was one night alone in her bedroom for me to want what I didn’t know would inevitably become mine.