Asa
Writer...Dream...Fantasy
- Joined
- Jun 9, 2003
- Posts
- 36,474
See you may think just because I work for you that you own me like you have all those other bimbo's believing but since I make you more money than any of them... When that last patron leaves for the night Lance... You are MINE!
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Lance Deacon had no idea who he hired when when Gabriella Lane applied for the job of bartender. In four nights a week she pulls in more money for his little personal playden of a dive bar than three servers and the other bartender combined do in a whole week. After the "trial period" he had called her to his office to explain to her just what it meant to work in his bar his world. Simply put you work for him he owns you... And he will enjoy what he owns however he wants whenever he wants.
Gabriella's expression didn't change. Most of the girls get a look of horror or disgust till they see him and what he has to offer. Not Gabriella she just stood there staring through him no fear no horror no disgust no interest... Simply nothing yet she saw more than anyone else. He thought it a challenge as be dropped his jeans kicking them off as he stalked over to her.
That is when things went wildly different. Her eyes sparked with a darkness and power he barely registered before she literally had him by the balls and she finally spoke in a cold emotionless tone that he knew was lethally serious.
I bring this club more money than any bimbo you have out there willing to believe this being owned bullshit. So Lance here is how things will be. From the moment the last patron of this dive pours themselves out the front door... You are MINE! Is that clear? This... Is Mine. During business hours you want those dumb bimbos thinking you own them fine. And hey I might humor you and one in here on occasion during work hours... If I do. I call the shots... Is that clear?
A sudden squeeze and Lance knew he was screwed and quickly agreed just to get her to loosen her grip but she didn't and in a strange way he was glad. This cold commanding woman had more power than he could have imagined and now it seemed he was the one owned. He had no idea what that would mean and again in a strange way that was very powerful.
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Gabriella Lane grew up fast... At least after her father and step brother were killed. Her mom... If you could call her a mom. Didn't moms give even a remote rats ass about their child's well being health safety and education. Her father had been a cop which her mother hated completely. He was a cop when they met if she hated his job why did she even date him much less marry him and have a family? To say the least the selfish bitch who miraculously carried her for 12 hours shy of nine months made little to no sense. She would always bring up the story that she just had to be born early and ruin her time at some concert for some band that was more drugs than music. Her brother's friends stepped up as brothers to her but could do nothing about her mother beyond a roof over her head when she ran away. It was hanging with them she learned to fight and "hunt" as their "uncle" called it. She knew they were random mob muscle and her beauty and innocent smile helped her get in close to help lure out their targets. It also gained her more attention from every slimy bum her mother brought home from the bar. Another strike against her with the bitch... The fact that even some of the lowest slime of the earth would rather fuck her daughter then her. She was 17 when she realized she could claim power over those that tried to wield power over her. She busted the nose lips and jaw of her mothers latest meal ticket when he tried to rape her right in front of her drunk mother who didn't do anything but sit there and cuss her for him picking her instead. Didn't try to protect her and then when she defended herself she kicked her own daughter out and cradled the filth that had just tried to rape her own flesh and blood. So she packed her bags and took off. Living with her brothers honing her own new found power to dominate and destroy. The destroying got old so after a few years she found herself packing her bags and taking off to have a little fun in the world without always that fun leading to the hit... The kill... The contract. Now at 28 she found herself a "vigilante" of sorts. Turning abusive males into submissive playthings. Most of the time banding them back over to any of their victims who wanted a pet male. She was also getting tired of that. Not the breaking of the arrogant male but always releasing them to someone else. She wanted a plaything of her own. Or maybe she just wanted a place to call home
She found herself almost broke in some decent sized town who knows where. Nothing she wasn't used to so she found a place. Cheap room and board living in a little apartment over the top of some middle eastern market. Some elderly couple ran it with their grand kids. The oldest was maybe 5 and a constant talker. She wanted to know about her tats and where she was from and why her eyes looked so cold and sparkly. Her little brother didn't quite talk he just expected everyone to pick him up. Sweet enough little ankle biter he gave her a hug and kiss when she finally picked him up. The old woman clearly ran the show as she looked to her husband and told him they were going to be feeding her ateast once a day. He just nodded and commented that the kids were not afraid of her he was fine with whatever she decided.
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I couldn't take much more of this happy family stuff. Felt like I was in some alien movie or something. I finally got a word in edge wise and asked if they had a paper so I could find work no matter how nice they were I was nearly broke. So they handed me a paper and I vanished from Norman Rockwell world with accents and up to my room.finally found an add that I could handle... Bartender.
So I went downstairs and got a map of the town and went looking for this bar... Jackpot... it was a dive just like I liked. Not too many cheery chatty folks and no tourists. So I walked in and looked around. Dark some crappy cover band and a jukebox that looked like it fell out of some sixties biker movie and pool tables. I was home.
Some puny little redhead walked over.
Hi beer or whiskey?
Bourbon straight and I am here to talk to a Lance Deacon about a bartending job. Saw the add used to bartend in a place about like this in Philly.