The Madam Page 8

  I grabbed the sides of her face to keep her in place and locked eyes with Mika, we all came at the exact same time.

  I came to when I heard familiar moaning. I opened my eyes; on the wall in front of me was the recording of what just happened being displayed. All of a sudden there was clapping and the voyeurs began moving to the sides of the bed. I saw the shadow of Madam clapping and walking toward me with a satisfied smile on her face.

  She handed me a black silk robe. “I’m to assume you would like some modesty, although from the performance you’ve given all night, I could be mistaken.” She helped me put on the robe and tied it in the front for me.

  “Darling, you passed with flying colors,” she stated, smiling brightly.

  “Excuse me?” I responded with confusion.

  “The birthday party was all a ruse, Lilith. It was never about your birthday. It was a test.”

  “Are you serious?” I continued, shocked.

  “Of course, I choose my girls, Lilith. You, my darling, are different. I wanted to make sure that I was not wrong,” she gloated, pulling the hair out of my face and I slapped her hands away.

  She laughed. “Don’t bite the hand that will feed you.” She proceeded to push the hair out of my face, turning me to watch the screen.

  “You see that woman on display; you see her eyes, her face, her skin; she’s beautiful.

  She’s whatever she wants to be.

  She owns everything and anything around her.

  She’s a vision.

  She’s wanted and needed.

  She runs the show.

  She is in control of it all.

  She will be Madam one day…

  She is you.”

  Chapter 10

  Three years fly by at an incredible speed of light. It’s 1981, and I am twenty-one years old. My life completely took a 180 turn and I sat in the drivers seat without a goddamn seatbelt on. I sat in the lap of luxury while everyone else was living paycheck to paycheck. I had no idea what it meant to not have what I want when I wanted it. In my world, there were no laws; rules did not apply to me. You have no idea the lengths people would go to for just a taste, a sample, of what I could offer them.

  There are VIP tables all over the world. You may think you have sat at them. You may think you have seen them. You may think you have heard of them. But you have no idea. It’s the table that no one sees, the table that no one knows about. It’s the table in the back with dim lighting, in a secluded corner. Where you can see everyone, but no one can see you.

  That’s the VIP table.

  You may also think that drug dealers live behind closed doors, the bottom feeders of the world, preying on the weak and helpless. That’s a bunch of bullshit. The true drug dealers are the ones that have “Doctor” right before their last names. They’re the ones that go to medical school for years to educate themselves on “helping the ill”. They’re the suppliers. I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but the more money you have, the more drugs you do. Why not? There are no consequences, the world is at your fingertips, you have nothing to lose. You would be shocked at the lives people live behind golden gates.

  In my society, drugs and sex are a part of our culture.

  There were a few behind-the-scenes “discrepancies”, as Madam called them, that she only allowed me see. VIP is an extremely lucrative organization. It’s for the Crème de la Crème; though that doesn’t mean things don’t fall through the crevices. Madam controls everything whether that is before, during, or after a date.

  I met with Anderson Richard for our first date at a medical banquet for Leukemia. He was charming and handsome in an older way; he must have been in his early forties. His salt and pepper hair distinguished the light wrinkles in the corner of his chocolate brown eyes. He was 6’0 and had a toned muscular physique; always sporting a five o’clock shadow.

  The banquet went without any issues as they always did. I played the part of the doting companion in front of the cameras, while he mingled with high profile future clients. He owned a software manufacturing company. It was interesting to see the two sides of every man, and he was no different. He’d shake the hands of clients, with the same hand that mere seconds before were rubbing the folds of my pussy under the table. I believe he got off on the fact that he could do it, and that I would allow it. Most women aren’t as accommodating, which further proves that VIPs are one in a million.

  We made it back to his suite around midnight, and as soon as the door closed behind us, out came the vulture.

  “So, you little slut, what will I make you do for me?” he questioned with revulsion lacing his voice, catching me off guard.

  I turned and cocked my head to the side. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Whatever the fuck I want. That’s what I’m paying you for, isn’t it? So you can be my fuck toy for the night? You’re a bad girl, Lilith; I didn’t want a bad girl. I wanted a good girl. That means I’m going to have to hurt you,” he stated deviously.

  “Letting me do all those nasty, vile things to you, knowing that I would be touching other people with your juices still on my hand. You filthy disgusting cunt; now take off your fucking clothes before I take them off for you,” he demanded.

  At twenty-one, I had already lost count as to how many men I had been with, and Richard was just another client who liked kink, another form of foreplay; or so I thought. I proceeded to do exactly what he wanted me to and I left the suite with bruises all over my body and a bloody nose.

  I had never felt that violated before, and it only further ingrained in my mind that men are animals, and if given the chance they will cheat, beat, hurt, abuse, humiliate, and fuck anything that walks. I went straight home to my condo and soaked in a warm bath for the next two hours. I tried to cover my body as best as I could, the last thing I wanted was to get Madam involved. She would beat me further if she knew I permitted it to happen.

  I sat with Madam at lunch the next day, while she added dates into my appointment planner.

  I stood too fast and my right leg gave out.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, showing a hint of concern.

  “Mmm hmm, I’ve just been working out too hard.”

  She nodded. “Uh huh, how was your evening with Anderson?”

  “Fine,” I stated.

  “He called wanting another date. He requested another VIP, why is that?”

  “I don’t know. He was thrilled when I left.”

  “Hmmm…” she replied.

  I got up off the table to make my way to the kitchen.

  “Lilith.” I stopped dead in my tracks. I knew that tone.

  “Lie to me once, shame on you; lie to me twice, shame on me. It would do you good to remember that I don’t do shame very well.” I kept walking, not turning around to look at my mother’s observant face.

  <>-<>-<>-<>

  A few weeks went by without so much as a warning of what was to come, but that all changed one afternoon. Madam called first thing that morning letting me know that my presence was requested in her office at 3:00 pm. Judging by her tone on the phone, this was going to take the better part of my afternoon. My bruises faded, but my anger grew. I made sure to cover that up with picture perfect makeup and outfit. Not letting one ounce of my outside demeanor reflect what I felt on the inside.

  At 2:55 pm, I knocked on her door with an uncontrollable eerie feeling.

  “Come in,” I heard Madam say from behind the door.

  I walked into a scene from The Godfather. My mother was sitting on her desk with a gun in one hand and an extremely large knife in the other. Three bodyguard type men, whom I had never seen before, stood behind Anderson. He was in nothing but boxers, tied to a chair. His face badly beaten and his body was blackened with bruises.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered to no one in particular.

  “Lilith, darling, so happy that you could make it to our little party,” she proclaimed.

  I immediately put my hand over my mouth. “Wh
at the fuck?! What are you doing?” I shouted through my fingers.

  She smiled. “Whatever the fuck I want. Now it’s your turn.”

  I shook my head back and forth.

  She raised her eyebrow. “Let me make sure I understand. Anderson decided that he was going to get fist happy with MY property, and you don’t bat an eye. Now, I take care of what is mine. I did my part, Lilith. Now it’s your turn. I mean, unless you’d like to play Russian roulette with me.”

  “Madam-”

  “Don’t Madam me anything. Men like Anderson need to be put in their places. They don’t understand that MY pussy will always be smarter than their cocks.”

  “He could report this. I mean, what are you doing? You could jeopardize everything,” I tried to explain in the calmest manner I could muster.

  She threw her head back and laughed. “By whom? Lilith, I have politicians, detectives, the motherfucking D.A, and Chief of Police on my speed dial. Just because they wear a badge, darling, doesn’t mean they don’t like to get dirty. Learn something now; keep your friends close, and your enemies much closer.”

  “I can’t-”

  “You repeat that word one more time, I will turn this gun on you. What have I taught you, Lilith? You. Do. Not. Show. Weakness. Ever!” she yelled.

  “What do you think? Huh? That pretty face of yours will run my empire. I am showing you the way, Lilith. Now, follow the fucking yellow brick road toward me and take your pick; gun or knife?”

  I stared back at the face that would one day be me. Could I do this? Could I protect what’s mine…I took one look at Anderson as he pissed himself in the chair. I thought back on the way he ripped my dress, how he bit me until I bled, how even days later, I could still feel his fingers around my neck. That every time I said “no” and “stop”, he would thrust harder to the point where I felt like he was ripping me open. But most of all, I thought about the look on his face when he was about to come, and for it to happen, he had to punch me in the face.

  I thought back on how many women he had done this to, how many more times would he do it. What if next time he kills one of them and I had the chance to stop it?

  To make it all go away.

  To make him go away.

  I vindictively smiled and walked over to Madam. I grabbed the gun and she smiled proudly, her eyes were gleaming with anticipation. I slowly strolled over to Anderson, who was screaming into the mask of tape and thrashing around in his chair, trying to get loose. I raised the gun and pointed it to his head, his eyes widened in fear. I moved the pistol to his forehead and placed my finger on the trigger, pulling it toward me.

  Then I heard it click. I pulled again and again…click, click, click.

  Madam’s clapping broke me away from my thoughts.

  “You do have it in you,” she said, smiling proudly at me. “Good to know.” She grabbed the gun from my hands and brought it down to his temple, knocking him out.

  “Get him the fuck out of my office,” she said to the guards.

  She placed the gun in her safe, along with the knife, before turning to me.

  “It’s game over, Lilith. You win. Don’t ever let me find out that I have to clean up your mess. You want to be Queen Bee? Don’t ever take shit from anyone. I don’t give a flying fuck who they think they are. Understood?” I nodded.

  “Good, now get the fuck out of my office.”

  <>-<>-<>-<>

  Time went on and I continued to hear I love yous, marry mes, and let me take you away from it all. But like anything, the first time is always the best and most memorable.

  Remington Cooper was the rock star of the eighties. He had the ego of well, a rock star, and the cock of a God. He was known for doing an incredible amount of drugs, and had been to rehab a couple of times. Like any artist, he was exceptionally talented and had a dark soul.

  Remington was 6’1, had jet black hair, tattoos and piercings all over his body, hazel eyes that always wore more black eye liner than I ever did. He dressed in ripped clothing and his net worth was $30 million; he was only twenty-five years old. I met him at Club 54 and was his for the next week straight; drugs, sex, and rock roll baby.

  This was the sixth or seventh time that I was his companion. He always requested me when he was on the road; I would stay with him days at a time.

  “Damn, you’re fucking gorgeous,” Remington grunted as he finished snorting the line of coke off my ass.

  “Remy…” I retorted, trying to get up to go to the shower.

  “Don’t call me that. I didn’t say you could get up either,” he urged.

  “You’re my muse, you know that, Lilith?” he whispered, kissing me all over my face.

  “Mmm hmm…” I replied, soaking up all the attention.

  “I love you, you know that, right?” he confessed; it wasn’t the first time I heard it and it wouldn’t be the last.

  “Mmm hmm…”

  He looked deep into my eyes. “Marry me.”

  I laughed. “Remy, you’re fucked up. You have no idea what you’re saying.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. I know right now you’re mine and I want to keep you that way. Marry me.” He was practically begging, annoying the fuck out of me.

  Marriage has always been a huge question mark for me. I don’t care enough to go into it; obviously, I think it’s a load of garbage. People get married because they’re lonely, they think they’re supposed to, they don’t want to die alone…the list goes on. Don’t think for one second that I’m cynical, or I’m bitter, I’m a realist.

  I probably didn’t pick the right time to laugh in Remington’s face, but I did.

  “Are you fucking laughing at me?” he shouted, getting close to my face. I pushed at his chest to get him off.

  “You need a serious reality check! You may need to go to rehab again because you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Do you honestly think I’m going to say yes?” I yelled, trying to find my clothes.

  He forcefully grabbed my upper arm and my first reaction was to punch him in the face, making him stagger back.

  “Don’t you ever put your hands on me,” I angrily stated.

  He shook his head. “You stupid cunt. Do you honestly think you’re better than me? Well…you better get off your pedestal, Barbie, because you’re a fucking whore. I have a true talent, while yours is in between your legs.”

  I seductively walked over to him and started to trace the outline of his dick with my fingers, instantly making him hard. “And it always makes you come back for more, darling.” I grabbed a hold of his shaft and lightly moved up and down. “Doesn’t it?”

  He moaned in my ear. “Go fuck yourself, Remy,” I stated in his.

  He pulled my hair at the nook of my neck and licked my lips.

  “I’d much rather fuck you,” he proclaimed as he threw me on the bed.

  Why be tied down with a ring on my finger, when I can be tied up with a dick in my pussy? To me, the choice is obvious.

  I snuck out the next morning, making sure to have the pictures that I needed. See, Remy also had a wife. Oh! Did I not mention that part?

  I mailed a few pictures of our escapades to Rolling Stone, and let’s just say, his wife took him for half.

  Lesson learned, Remington Cooper.

  Don’t fuck with me.

  Chapter 11

  After I turned eighteen my father was pretty much non-existent, I knew it was because he didn’t agree with my life choices. My father had been an active member of VIP since before I was born…can we say hypocrite? Nevertheless, anytime he wanted to meet with me I would make time in my schedule for him. He was the only “man” in my life.

  We ate lunch at a café on South Beach.

  “How are things going?” he asked with trepidation in his voice.

  “Things are amazing,” I answered with none in mine.

  “Is your mother looking out for you?”

  “My Madam always does. You should know that. I’m sure she’s looked out for you too, gi
ven your life choices,” I challenged, staring him in the eyes.

  “Lilith-”

  “Save it. I know you have always preferred your other children over me. It’s blatantly obvious, it always has been. So let’s not play the doting concerned father, it’s a waste of both our time. Don’t you think?”

  “Vivian has always been adamant about the specific role I would play in your life. It was established before I decided to give her what she wanted. It doesn’t change the fact that I am your father; I do love you, and I worry every day about what she has you doing.”

  “First off, I’m not a child. I’m twenty-three years old. Second, she doesn’t make me do anything. I love doing what I do, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. And lastly, you should worry about what you’re doing every day…daddy,” I argued with a satisfied smile.

  “I didn’t come here to fight with you, Lilith. If I could take it all back I would, but I can’t. I was young and stupid, and regardless of what you think, your mother and I did share something special.”

  Now that caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”

  “We loved each other, Lilith. I loved your mother very much,” he declared almost knocking me out of my chair.

  “That’s a load of bullshit; don’t you think I’m too old for fairytales?”

  He looked stunned. “She’s never told you?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I aggressively questioned.

  “Jesus…Vivian and I were high school sweethearts. We were married for three years before-”

  “You’re lying!” I shouted, standing up and knocking my chair over.

  He grabbed my wrist. “Sit and calm down. Why would I lie to you? I have nothing to gain from lying.”

  I sat back down with caution.

  “Vivian always knew she was going to be a VIP, she knew she would take over it eventually. At first, it was phenomenal; I loved being a part of the lifestyle, Lilith. Your mother is gorgeous, she always has been. But after a while I could only take so much; the parties, the other clients, the drugs, it all got to me. I woke up one morning and I couldn’t live like that anymore. I felt as if I was losing my soul, and I begged your mother to give it all up,” he explained as if he was reliving it all over again.