Dumb B*tch Syndrome - Derek Goffard x Female Reader (Discontinued)

The Prologue: A man is what he is.

'What makes a good man?' This vague question was posed to a young boy barely past the age of 8, who has barely thought anything outside of his strict father's tycoon work and playing with his abundant sets of toy motorbikes. 

". . .Is it money?" The little boy said, unsure of the sudden question. Tiny fingers twiddling with the big redstone buttons of his silkthreaded pants.

"Having lots of work to do?" Eyeing the pile of reports on father's desk above, he took a guess.

"Making people happy. . . ?" He confidently gave his last answer just as he heard the closing snap of a laptop from infront.

Heavy silence filled the study room, growing denser with each breath and increase of the boy's shy twiddle. Finally the air ceases of tension as the figure from behind the grand desk rose to a great height and a contemplative deep voice speaks. 

"Return to your room, son." 

The man stepped around the desk, and bending at the waist to lightly pat the boy's neat brown hair that mirrored his own, their only shared genetic trait.

"Yes, father, and you too!" Would say the enthusiastic little boy with brightened sky-blue eyes before actively sprinting off to his beloved toys— unaware of the harsh days full of beatings to come afterwards. It was for his own good afterall. 

A boy couldn't grow into a fine man quick enough without strict guidance.

———

To answer the question from before. 'What does make a good man?'

Was it one who upholds his masculinity and self-image, making use of power and cold authority? Was it being a good father, protector, a high positioned businessman and role-model to his fellow peers and underlings. Was there even a definite answer or need to answer something as subjective (or objective) as this question? Not really.

–'To preserve his manhood, a man must do everything in his power to stand strong and alone— even if it enchains one's selfhood.' The man titled Father, would say when he grew older, old enough to understand and know to keep silent.

Still, Derek Goffard had never found the answer. And he wasn't exactly a good man by any means even to his ownself. 

 In fact he couldn't care less and his family ultimately knew that, not that it mattered much to them, though tolerable, he didn't maintain the best relationship with most of his half-siblings because it was no secret that he was first in line to takeover father's coperation. The hierarchy of power in the family stemmed from receiving father's approval and favour, and he had it. 

Which meant he already was above the rest, and Derek did not waste any second of opportunities to brag about it in his half-siblings' annoyed faces during his spare time. 

It didn't have much of an affect on spoiling their mood since they were pretty used to Derek's boisterous attitude growing up, but sometimes it would hit a nerve and an argument would ensue— impaitence seemed to be an inherited quality in all of the Goffards. 

This was the one of the closest things to family-bonding time he will ever willingly put himself through, when the experience actually went well, he could even call it a decent time spent. Though he wouldn't admit it to himself, much less his own flesh and blood. 

Entertainment was the only thrilling thing in life, according to Derek. From watching people's reactions, fights for survival, the suffering pleas to be let go, heck even his own family was not excluded from his wide variety of enjoyment. Of course this could only be, as long as it aligned with Derek's wishes and control. Otherwise what was the point. 

Life wasn't always a gift basket bringing joys, it had its own eyesores moments. For Derek, it was work. 

Most days he would be ordered around the city like a dog, running the side errands of his father's work and fixing up any contractual loose ends, supervising the many companies and franchises belonging under the family name. 

All this responsibility wasn't all bad, Derek was the boss by proxy during these times at any work site and he thoroughly took advantage of the position. Any respect naturally(and fearfully) flowed in his direction, obviously (though the tamed expressions of the workers would suggest otherwise it wasn't earned respect). 

But credit where credit was due, as he worked harder than he needed to, staying up for nights straight with his hands shaking in anger, wanting to get things over with fast. And to relax. 

Then the worst of the worst part of work came along; attending the glammed social events and obnoxious parties held by his father's buddy business-partners to maintain proper peace and to show continual support. Derek was his father's representative in a way and it brought a peace of mind until the actual socializing happens. 

He wasn't permitted to go alone, his father had to keep an eye on him to ensure the impossibility of failure and to keep Derek's attitude in subtle check, someone presentable has to be his date. 

All of his half-siblings immediately declined going along (for many other reasons besides the family feuds), his personal friends (if you could call them that) were all men outside of business-work and his childhood staffmembers weren't highly positioned to be qualified for attending. . . 

A final decision was made by his father: highly trained escorts.  

Or cheap whores; the way he liked to call them snidely in private gatherings, these experienced escorts sent from his father for choosing in bringing tothese social events however called professionals, would inevitably succumb to him in every mind game by the end of the night, their cheeks still flushed after small gentlemanly touches and genuine open-mouthed conversations that'd lead off to one-sided passionless one nightstands. 

To be honest, he wasn't interested in fucking the women his father had under his employment, it was unnecessary and frustrating even to contain the arising urge to ruin and see ugly crying. 

Months worth of pent-up stressed anger had to go somewhere, and a good lay only did the trick for now. 

It was satisfying regardless as he left red marks behind on the escorts' bodies in dim lightning, their pained moans along the sound of skin slapping against skin was warming him up. Derek couldn't help himself and went faster in his rapid sharp thrusts, the hotel's bed creaking in protest along the wet noises and huffing of breath.

As if subconciously telling off his father and flipping him off for the overtime Derek had spent in exhausting conversations and rage-fuelling business meetings he knew were unnecessary except for currying more favours from father. 

In his head, Derek had already won. Not that his father would even be notified or aware of, this was just Derek's annual rebellious phase and he was going to squeeze out every drop of satisfaction he could get. 

"Come on, beg for me~" 

He grinned madly down at the sensitive responses of the tired body under his, not stopping in his movements even after the 2nd round of fucking, reeling in more moans from the escort. Nothing is over until he gets what he wants.

 That's just the kind of man he was and always will be. Unstoppable. That's what made him a man.

~9.6.22~