Your Call

Chapter Two

Growing up with many people was one of the things I had hated most about my life. Sure, everyone had a mother and father who loved them very much. At twelve I ran from mine; my mother was non-existent.

       Maids were the closest things to mother figures. That was, if they were trustworthy enough. Most were conniving snakes who would tell a thousand souls one small detail you shared. Those were the "mothers" I've had.

       Having caregivers/holders who hadn't given two shits if they starved me nearly to death. Or even bothered to do basic care on a small child who needed it. They never minded not having that extra mother figure there.

      Most of them were lonely, egotistical and sadistic. The saddest human beings I've ever locked eyes with. If you ever asked a maid something that 'they could answer themselves'. You would be abolished into another room.

     To think, to sit, to rot emotions were like extra baggage. They never cared about tears, or sudden manic episodes. Emotions to them were meaningless, if you had those you were crazy or inhumane.

    Who gives a shit anyway? Your feelings were invalid, twenty people have learned who I had then tossed me out as If I didn't matter. To them I wasn't, they were right.   'You...Don't...Matter...Mariana '.

       Growing up in this life was scary enough. I couldn't even wish for something like this especially on my worst enemy if I wanted too. The pain, the neurological damage and sheer agony you will feel. Never disappears, trust me I've tried enough to think it would.

      Unless you have a holder quite literally from heaven itself. Honestly, that is too unrealistic, just like everything else in this life. Twenty-five years of my life leading up to this moment.

    Truly feeling like the first time I was doing this all over again. My bra is squishing my breasts together. The corset I wore was choking me out as we speak.

    Perverted men with sadistic glares and looks didn't care. Even if I had a nightgown on, perverts don't care what you're dressed in. Especially if you had the perfect figure.

   My hands grasping the pole feeling the electric music take me over. Feeling the hundreds of stares following me. Lights begin to shine on me, the music slowly getting louder. My whole body wrapped itself around the cold metal. Swinging around feeling the first groove. Watching money being thrown at me like some inanimate object.

     My hips swaying left and right. My eyes met the one man I needed to see. Mr. Hayes, a devious smirk plastering all over my lips. He noticed rather fast at how I was staring at him. His eyes follow mine, licking his lips seductively.

      Fucking pervs, he taps his leg twice. In any common knowledge he isn't asking for a clue to randomly pop out of the air. He wanted me right after this show. Oh, trust me Mr. Hayes, I want you too. Just not in the way you think.

      The music begins to slow, my head throwing itself back, my hair flowing. Feeling the pole clamped in between my thighs. I swung for one final time before ending in the splits.

     "Give it up for Mariana!!" The DJ says, whistles and clapping from all the perverted men were all anyone could hear. Fucking disgusting.

       I walked away purposely swaying my hips as I left the showroom. There he was, he leaned against the pillar. Smoking what seemed to be a cigar. "Mariana, what a beautiful name". His words grossed me out, I shook it off covering my disgust with a bright smile.

      "Why thank you, I saw how interested you were back there". I play with an accent lacing my voice. He turns towards me with a small smile. Blowing a cloud of smoke away from my face.