Bad Night

🪐- to saturn's heights.

"Shut your mouth before I fuck it" - Scott Mescudi

-

What happens is that he stops, halfway through our drive, and goes to check on me in the trunk. He brings a bag of cocaine with him, feeds me some, and I'm soon high and then passed out. (not how coke even works but hey)

I am higher than Saturn right now and I couldn't be happier. Because I'm woken up from a nap when we pull into the spot, and I think about his hot body, him stroking his suit, teasing me, bringing me to the edge until I give in. That's what he wants. For me to give in. That's why he has a hot submissive locked in the back of his trunk, no way for me to get out.

Just to let you know, I'm perfectly okay with that.

I really don't mind when I hear Rick Ross playing from the stereo in the front. At least this guy doesn't listen to It's Everyday Bro or anything. But he does seem like a hot mafia boss, from what I've put together--the secretive files and drugging and trunk locking--so of course he'd listen to refined music.

He unlocks me, and I struggle to get out, used to being in this position for what feels like ages and miles down crowded roads.

"I should give you help getting out," he smirks, taking my hand out and of course I fall perfectly in his arms. Except it isn't our beautiful movie moment, because I'm in this slouched position where I'm about to fall and he has full control over me.

"On your knees."

"B-but--"

"I've heard that a thousand times, don't you think? I'd die for you. And you'd die for me. That's probably what will happen while I have you here. So get on your knees and be cooperative. Come on," he claps his hands while presumably dreaming of clapping my cheeks. We aren't in that phase yet, but we should be soon, if he has it his way.

Or my way.

So I get on my knees and he unbuttons his jeans--he obviously has the control--and I'm inexperienced, so I don't know what to do. I stutter and mumble but it's clear that he isn't going to be satisfied, so I go for it.

"You're new to this, aren't you?"

But I don't have time to break and talk, or he'll yell at me, I assume. Or just tease me because that's how he is.

"He's quirky like that," I hear a voice in the background.

My mouth is still preoccupied and Boss Guy isn't satisfied when we see two female secretaries walking out of the building. Oh, the building. It looks abandoned but fixed up enough for a boss to do his job, and apparently house two apathetic secretaries. They both look done with his bullshit, but somehow they've been roped into this cult or whatever it is. I need to get out, but how?

I'm just starting to please the boss when the second secretary interrupts our moment. "Brandy, we don't have time for pleasure."

"You have to be on the job," the other adds.

"On the job? Well, I'm getting a pretty fine blowjob right now."

"Go fuck yourself, Brandon."

"Boss. I only respond to boss." And he continues to look at me as I'm on my knees. But I've stopped what I'm doing, and I'm now looking at the secretaries with questioning eyes.

"He was supposed to be sucking me off like a Capri Sun. I don't know what he's doing now." Brandon shrugs, which seems to expose more of his vest, and he groans. "Ah, fuck it, I'm done with this."

I'm happy he is, because I feel like I couldn't survive if he had that damn vest on for longer.