The Novel Free

Blood Slave





Rubin forced me to sit around his house butt-ass naked for three weeks straight, twenty-four seven, to teach me a lesson. His version of taming the shrew. You see Rubin liked anal sex. The first time I learned that the hard way, things got messy. Back then I didn’t have the experience. I didn’t understand how intense anal can be, and Rubin didn’t prepare me beforehand with an enema. Colombians aren’t known for advance planning and organizational skills, they’re spontaneous. He paid the price for spontaneity, I shit all over him.



I sure learned my lesson. He wouldn’t let me wear a single article of clothing those three weeks. The asshole brought all his friends, buddies, brothers and cousins over to torment me.



“Hey everyone, come look at the cute naked girl. You can take her in the back for a few minutes, free of charge, my treat.”



I learned that lesson over and over. By the end of the three weeks I knew exactly what I was doing. I’d been broken in.



Being nude doesn’t bother me anymore, but some of my dates tend to think it strange. For the sake of propriety, I put on black thong panties and a matching black silk bathrobe. It’s a little less shocking that way.



I still had an hour to kill, and Conchita already left for her first date of the evening. I leafed through a book on astrology, “The Birthday Almanac”, by Sophia Kendrick. The book had a page for every day of the year. Though I’d read it twice, I turned to my birth date, July 24th, Leo. The Leo born on this day is summarized by three words: confident, attention-seeking, uninhibited. Some of the comments I identified with, “… you radiate sunny self-confidence … occasionally outrageous, attention demanding behavior. Your positive polarity removes your inhibitions wherever you’re surrounded by an admiring audience … while you may often get carried away, you rarely go too far.”



It seemed eerily accurate, which is why I kept rereading the page, searching for the hidden meaning. The page also listed famous people born on the same day, such as Amelia Earhart – 1897 – and Jennifer Lopez – 1970. I didn’t know much about Amelia, but I knew all about J-Lo. Being related to J-Lo via astrologic sisterhood seemed pretty cool. She’s rich, sexy, has a totally yummy ass. Maybe we weren’t all that different, except for the part about being rich.



No matter how much I fantasize about it, I’ll never have an ass like J-Lo. My hips don’t have enough meat. I’m too toned through my butt and thighs. Maybe that’s a result of having my legs in the air so often? Maybe I should focus on other sexual positions, let my thighs get a little flabby? Probably a bad idea, most guys like missionary.



I aim to please, so I’m always anticipating what they like, and I just start doing it, as long as it’s not too freaky. I hate swallowing, I refuse to do it. Don’t bother asking, it’s just plain gross.



A text message grabbed my attention, Maria Rivera at the escort service. She confirmed my date was en route. Shit, she might even show up on time. That’d be a pleasant surprise.



I have three methods of acquiring dates: the escort service, a free classified ads website, and Francisco Lopez, aka Arana – spider, Faustino’s collector-handler. Arana keeps tabs on all the girls, Conchita and I included. The best dates usually come from the escort service and internet. The ones Arana and Faustino send are Traquetos, and half the time they want to fuck for free. I’ve had to send Arana after Faustino’s boys more times than I can count, happened just last night.



The only ones who get me for free are Faustino and Arana, and they usually prefer Conchita. She’s more bubbly, smiles all the time. And she has more jiggle to play with.



Most of my dates are not ‘in-call’. But I don’t worry too much with the lesbians. Women are so much more respectful. They aren’t prone to violent-creepy behavior like men. My dates with men are always ‘outcall’. Stalker prevention.



I sometimes enjoy the lesbian dates better. Women tend to pay larger tips and are generally more affectionate and considerate lovers. I have often thought I should go full on lesbo, but there’s just something about a virile passionate man that a woman can’t replace, not even with a strap-on.



I hoped she wasn’t expecting me to actually have a strap-on or any other fancy toys. It’s not really my thing. I get enough sex in the flesh. I don’t need dildos and stuff.



She was punctual, arrived at ten p.m. sharp. In hindsight, I should have known her punctuality would mean trouble. Who can get anywhere in New York in a timely manner?



From the other side of the door I began to catch a sense of her self-identity. Her thoughts reached me before I answered her knock. Blended into her anticipation, I caught a few snatches of her essence. Vietnamese. Not a native of the United States. But she had been here for many years. I caught a sense of someone mature, a woman of forty years or more.



When I opened the door I stared into the face of a sexy twenty-something Asian American woman. She looked severe in her conservative business-like skirt suit, but she radiated a sensuality I found instantly attractive.



As she stepped closer, the ‘signal’ of her thoughts strengthened, more easily readable. Proximity makes a huge difference to the clarity and depth of my read. She liked me intensely. She liked my smell, my slim-trim body. And she wanted to bite me really badly. I smelled yummy delicious, like a tasty meal.



Odd, for sure, but then many people have strange urges and desires they never act upon. Propriety keeps our impulses in check most of the time. I wasn’t too worried. She seemed like a nice little Asian woman. Perhaps a bit kinky but still prim and proper by my standards. It turned out to be the worst judgment call I’ve ever made. She had me totally fooled.



I’ve been bitten before, not too hard. But if it’s done right, right time, right place, it’s okay, as long as they don’t break the skin. I read somewhere one of the most dangerous bites in the world is that of another person. Something about all the bacteria we carry in our mouths, fairly nasty stuff.



I shook her hand and invited her inside our modest one-bedroom apartment. We didn’t need more than one bedroom, and certainly couldn’t afford anything more. Conchita and I always changed the sheets after an in-call date.



“Hello, my name is Lia.” Lia Nguyen – I plucked the full name right out of her head.



No sooner had she spoken than she was on me. I never even saw her move, she was that fast. She sniffed my throat, right where I dabbed a touch of perfumed oil. Then she nuzzled her nose up and down my neck and jawline like a dog huffing ass. I wondered if she’d lift her leg and pee on me to mark her territory.



She inhaled deeply, savoring my scent like a fine wine, and then she actually said the very thing she’d been thinking. “You smell good enough to eat.”



* * * *



Chapter 2



Her breath tasted minty fresh when she kissed me. Nice, clean, better than most of my dates. Glad she didn’t smoke. Smokers taste like an old wet ashtray, disgusting. She displayed her aggressive side immediately, slipping my robe off my shoulders to watch it pool at my feet. She wanted it all right now. To lick me, fuck me, eat me, suck me and bite me. And she wanted me to go down on her.



Her thoughts raced past, a heady rush of lust and desire. Kissing me wildly, she pushed me back against the wall. An image surfaced in her mind, the good ole ‘sixty-nine’, a lesbian’s favorite.



Instead of giving me the opportunity to offer what she wanted, she proceeded to strip off the last scrap of clothing I wore, my panties. I helped her free my skin of this final restriction.



“Why don’t we go into the bedroom and get more comfortable?” I offered.



She backed off and let me take the lead. Holding her hand, I brought her to the edge of the bed and proceeded to take care of business.



“I get paid first. The escort service told you my rate of three hundred per hour, one hour minimum?” I hated asking. People like to play the “I didn’t know that” game. They like to see if they can talk me down by pretense of ignorance.



Not this one. She didn’t say a word. Her answer came when she produced a wad of cash from a small black clutch bag. I stood before her naked, counting the money that totaled out to five hundred. I read her anticipation. It oozed from her very pores. She wanted me so badly. It drove her nuts to wait while I put the money away.



“Would you like some help?” I offered.



She smiled gleaming white. “Sure.”



I helped her step out of her skirt and we worked together unbuttoning her cream-colored blouse. I carefully laid her clothes atop the dresser. Expensive designer labels. I smoothed it out covetously, wishing I could afford something that nice.



“I love your color, so warm, a nice golden tan.” Her breath filtered down on the back of my neck. She slipped her hand around from behind. She felt me up while her other hand slid down between my legs, oh-so tender with her touch.



“You’re warm, and wet. You like women too, how nice. And here I thought it was all about the money.” A little sharp in her attitude, but her hands knew their way around.



The lace of her bra rubbed against my back as I leaned back into her embrace. I slid my hand back to feel her smooth thigh. I teased the edges of her white lace panties. I felt the contours of her warm sex through the silky lace. We fondled one another. I shivered when she stuck her her tongue in my ear.



That was … different.



Before I knew it we faced each other, her tongue in my mouth, fingers exploring everywhere at once. Her bra and panties came off in a flurry, both our hands going for it.



I felt her up, lightly pinching her dark nipples. She growled low in her throat. Her tits were smaller than mine. Little dark nipples stood out erect on her pale white skin. I looked damn near black next to her absence of color. Her skin felt so slick and flawless, like one of those girls in an ‘Oil of Olay’ commercial.



We finally made our way to the bed, Lia in the lead, pushing me onto my back as she climbed over me into the ‘sixty-nine’.



“Mmmm smells so good.” She buried her nose inside me.



Seated over my face, I tasted her with feather soft licks. Ultra-clean and so very wet. A hint of saltiness. The cleanest I’ve ever tasted.
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