Page 1 of Vengeance

Page List


Font:  

PART ONE:

THE VERSE

“Rape is a more heinous crime than murder since the rape victim dies throughout the period she lives.”

—Amit Abraham

Prologue

Saturday, September 18, 1993

10:18 p.m.

The Black Screw

Los Angeles, California

Ladonna, get your little fast ass over here!”

Hannah was drunk as all get-out as she rubbed her hands up and down the chest of a dude who called himself Minister of Seduction. He was about six three and built like a truck. Not to mention the thirteen-to-fourteen-inch dick hanging in between his chiseled thighs. He was bouncing his dick up and down her behind as “Whoot, There It Is” by 95 South pumped through the speakers.

I was returning from the bar with two blow jobs—apparently the drink special of the night because a lot of the ladies were drinking them from shot glasses. I wasn’t a fan of the taste of coffee but was willing to give the concoction of Baileys Irish Cream and Kahlúa, amaretto, and whipped cream a try. It was my twenty-first birthday and I had been waiting for the chance to do two things: drink some liquor legally, and drink it at a club. Hannah had made both dreams come true, albeit, it was not quite the kind of club that I had in mind.

I couldn’t believe that she had taken me to a strip club—the Black Screw. There were at least two dozen half-naked men tickling the fancy of the ladies who ranged in ages, races, and levels of intoxication. Alcohol definitely made people loosen up, but I knew that already from all my concerts. Even though I was a superstar already by that age, no one recognized me in the club. I always wore a veil onstage. My physical scars were gone, and I was totally unrecognizable from the prior version of me. Yet, I still was not quite ready to embrace my beauty enough to put it on display in front of the world.

I had led a complicated life—a serious understatement—but I was finally happy with the family that I had always wanted. Daddy was back at the Beverly Wilshire on a business call with his partners in Japan. Part of “the conditions” for me to even pursue a music career was that Hannah had to always travel with me—a nanny of sorts.

Yes, I was “of age,” but I still needed her. I realized that one day she would want to—and need to—go discover herself. She was already in her early forties but still trying to figure out what she truly wanted to do for a career legally. At least by Daddy paying her, she was able to stop stealing for a living. I loved Hannah so much. She was the only true friend that I had ever had. She had been there for me when no one else was. She had seen my first round of tears, caught my second round, and was helping to prevent a third. I would always love her for that.

“Whoot, There It Is” faded out and “Knockin’ Da Boots” by H-Town came on as the sexy announcer / hype man introduced the next act. I reached Hannah and handed her a blow job as Minister of Seduction started gyrating his hips toward a woman old enough to be Hannah’s mother at the next table. She straight up grabbed his dick through his G-string and started caressing it like the Holy Grail.

“Are you ladies ready for some serious dick action?” the announcer yelled out, and received a bunch of “hell yes,” “damn right,” and “bring on the dick” responses.

“I’m talking massive, enormous, long and strong, hard-as-nails dick!”

It sounded strange to hear one man describing another man’s dick, but I giggled and guzzled down my shot. I expected to be drunk within seconds but that didn’t happen. I was going to need quite a few blow jobs to feel something. At least, that is what I thought.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies! Coming to the floor here at the Black Screw are the set of twins who always bring on double delight!”

Hannah screamed out, “Twins? Oh, hellz yeah!” She nudged me with her elbow. “Don’t you tell Richard I took you to a strip club,” she added, referring to my father.

“Hannah, I’m grown,” I replied. “Besides, this is fun. I thought we were going to a dance club, but this is a great way to break me into adulthood.”

“You’re a singer,” she said as she grabbed at the six-pack abs of a male dancer named Daddy Longstroke walking through. “You’re always around dancing, but not this kind of dancing.”

We both laughed as the announcer went on. “Here they come, and I do mean come. The North Pole and the South Pole are about to make some panties wet up in here.”

“Damn,” was all I could say as two pieces of hunk slid out on the stage from opposite directions on their knees, with a single long-stemmed rose in each of their mouths. They were dark chocolate with hazel eyes and had on red silk boxers and black boots with Santa Claus jackets and hats. “Christmas has come early this year.”

I was a bit tipsy after all from that one shot. I was talking crazy and totally unlike myself. I wasn’t even impressed with fine men on that level. I was around them all the time because my backup dancers were no joke. Two of them were only checking for men, though, but they were still fine.

“Knockin’ Da Boots” was the perfect song for the twins to show off their stuff. As they spun around on the stage and women tossed money at them, the announcer asked, “How many of you ladies think you can climb one of their poles?” as they both lowered the front of their boxers, revealing long-ass dicks covered in thin fabric. You could see the veins popping out of their dicks through it.

“I want to climb the North Pole!” Hannah yelled out. She chuckled and poked me in the arm. “She’ll climb the South Pole!”

They got to the part of the song where they said it was the intermission and that women should go get their towels. Someone threw two red towels on the stage from the back and, by that time, the twins were down to their G-strings. They placed the towels in front of their groins and then stepped out of the G-strings, leaving all of us to imagine what was hanging behind the towels as “I Wanna Sex You Up” by Color Me Badd came on. That was all she wrote. The women in the audience completely lost it as the twins came down the steps into the crowd and let chicks take turns copping a feel under the towels.

“You having fun?” Hannah asked as she called over a waitress to get some more drinks. “I shouldn’t have sent you to get drinks. We need something harder, pun definitely intended.”

> I had gone to the bar to get drinks only to see if I would get carded again. I was so excited about flashing my license at the front door, proving that I was twenty-one as of that day. I had wanted that feeling again but hadn’t known what to order once the bartender asked what I was drinking, so I had gone with the flow.

“Give us two sea breezes,” Hannah instructed the waitress. “And make those joints strong. Double up that liquor.”

“That’ll be two dollars extra per drink,” the waitress informed her.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing Ladonna here”—Hannah pointed to me—“is filthy rich.”

The waitress looked offended and then started eyeing Hannah suspiciously. A few other women had thrown shade about Hannah’s appearance earlier and I was ready to jump anyone who came out the side of their neck with any negative comments. I was hoping the cute little waitress with the dreads wouldn’t be the one to end up getting my ass whooping that was on deck.

“I was just informing you,” the waitress said sarcastically. “The manager insists on it. Some people start tripping when they get their tabs.”

Hannah shrugged and turned her attention back to the stage, offending the waitress even more.

“The surcharge is cool,” I said. “In fact, bring us four of them so we won’t have to track you down for the next round.”

The waitress smiled at me and actually looked like she wanted to jump my bones. “No problem, sweetie. I like that top,” she yelled out over the music.

As she walked away, I asked Hannah, “What’s in a sea breeze?”

“Cranberry juice, grapefruit juice, and vodka.”

“Sounds delish.”

“Speaking of delicious!” One of the twins was upon us, in all his glory and with all his dick. Hannah started feeling his chest, from the middle of his pecs down to the top of his pubic hair on his lower torso that was a tease of what was below.

His brother caught me off guard by picking me up from behind and damn near impaling me on his dick through my jeans. I found it amusing—at first—but then he got kind of rough with me. He tried to bend me over and pretend to fuck me from the back. That was when it all came rushing back and I exploded.

I started yelling and attempted to push him off me. “Get off me! Get the fuck off!”

Hannah didn’t hear me apparently. She was still caught up with flirting with his brother.

The one behind me started moving his hips faster and faster and some of the other women were telling me to “take that dick,” “get it, sister,” and “work that billy over.”


Tags: Zane Erotic