Discretion

MAX

I’d taken Wednesday off to let my tattoo heal. The way that the needle had bitten into the inside of my arm was a wonderful kind of pain. Pain and I knew each other well.

Nora had jumped in front of her father most of the time, but she hadn’t always been home to save me. Wesley had enjoyed throwing me onto the ground and kicking me until my skin bruised a deep purple.

He never touched my face or any exposed area and told me that if I ever told my mother, he would kill me. I totally believed that he was capable of it.

Would you find me really fucked up if I told you that I missed pain?

I don’t ever want to be abused again but the pain my stepfather inflicted on me gave me the focus and willpower to do everything I could to get out of that house.

I got a full scholarship at Hargrave not because I was a genius but because I studied my fucking ass off! And then I left Nora with him…alone.

The pain from the tattoo was like a kiss from an old friend. I suffered little to receive something of beauty. The tattoo was magnificent, and I already wanted another one.

On Thursday, I got my first bill from my sister’s private clinic. It wiped out most of my savings, but I was happy to pay it.

After all, it was only money, and Nora was my sister—the only person I had left.

I took a new client on Thursday night.

Ridley was very attractive, lived in an apartment much larger than David and Mikkel’s, and was clearly half a decade younger than me.

He was very nervous when he opened the door, but as soon as I was inside, he scanned me up and down and whistled.

“Ludo wasn’t kidding when he said that your agency was the best. You are absolutely scrumptious, Papi.”

I wasn’t used to having younger clients, but Ridley seemed perfectly at ease with an older guy.

“Here’s an NDA for you to sign, baby,” he said, pointing to a paper on the large glass coffee table.

“I assure you that it’s in my and my agency’s best interest to maintain the highest levels of discretion,” I repeated the standard line.

“Blah, blah, blah, hunty. If you had any idea who my daddy is, you’d know that I need as much security as I can get.”

Was he talking about his father or…

“He’s in Singapore for business and I’m not even allowed out of the house. He doesn’t trust other people when it comes to my beauty,” he said, touching his face.

What the fuck? This guy was so fucking full of himself.

“So why am I here?” I said, crossing my arms.

“Because I am soooo bored! Do you have any idea what it’s like to be fucked by the same old bald, fat queen for a whole year just to be able to live a life of luxury?”

I couldn’t help it—I burst out laughing. Ridley looked at me as if I were utterly ridiculous.

“You have me for twelve hours. What do you want to do?” I asked, trying to avoid explaining my outburst. Ridley was clearly not that bright.

“I want to put on a fashion show!” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Daddy owns a clothing brand, but he never lets me close to the runway.”

Shit, this was getting better by the minute.

“All those yummy models, and he never lets me near them! Today, you will be my model, and I will be the designer and the critic.”

“Makeup and hair?” I asked, trying to go along with his fantasy.

“Oh, yes!” he said, enthusiastically. “I don’t know how to do that, but you are cute enough as is.”

“Thanks,” I said sarcastically.

“You’re welcome!” he said with a smile. What an airhead!

Ridley took his time to strip me out of my clothes and have me stand there naked while he picked an ensemble from the rack.

I knew nothing about fashion, but the combinations he was picking clearly didn’t belong together. But he was the customer, so…

Doing my best to move like the guys I’d seen on TV, I walked toward Ridley without looking at him. He sat there with sunglasses and a sultry pout like he was… What was she called again?

After walking back to the bedroom, he’d run after me and help me change into the next outfit. I was starting to think that I was here only to roleplay.

After modeling thirteen different looks, Ridley decided that he wanted me to model underwear.

He gave me a nice pair of Vero boxers with black and gold trim. I walked all the way toward him and just as I was about to turn around, he yelled, “Stop!”

I did as I was told.

“Now, strip!” he barked.

Okay, creepy. Was this how his “daddy” spoke to him?

“Bend over!” he demanded in the same tone.

Why did I put up with this shit? I did as he asked and could see him from between my legs. He had his dick out and was slowly pumping it at the view of my ass.

“Now come and sit on my lap!” he said, having taken off only his pants and underwear.

“I don’t do bareback,” I said, breaking whatever game he had initiated.

“Oh, sorry,” he said in his usual tone. “Is it a question of money? My daddy never wears a condom…”

“Are you using me for a role reversal fantasy?” I asked, sitting down next to him.

He looked at me, his eyes welling with tears. “He fucks a lot of the models,” he whispered. “I know because I was one of them.”

I looked at him in silence, so he could talk.

“When he picked me over all the others, I was ecstatic. But now, I live in this golden cage, and he’s so jealous that he hardly lets me out.”

“Why don’t you just leave?”

“And give all of this up?” he said. “What would I do then?”

“What will he do when you are five years older? I’m sure that he’s had boys before you.”

“How did you know?” Ridley looked at me in awe.

Holy fuck, this kid was naive.

“Listen, everyone has the right to self-determination. Don’t let him keep you jailed.”

“What is self-determination?” he asked.

Okay, I was getting nowhere.

“How about we go to the bedroom and start over?”

“Okay,” he whispered.

Ridley obviously enjoyed being told what to do. Once we were in the guest bedroom, he was no longer interested in dominating. He let me fuck him as he squealed in ecstasy, and I made him come with an epic sloppy blowjob.

“Can I see you again?” he asked, casually smoking a joint. He handed it to me, and I took a deep drag while I thought about it.

The agency encouraged repeat customers in order to avoid side deals. They didn’t want our names to be used, so returning clients could be given a code that they could use in the special request section.

It was completely up to us whether we wanted to give it or not.

I gave Ridley my code. He was a great fuck for good money. I left with my fee in cash and a bag full of designer clothes.