Bond By The Vampire's Blood

Forbidden addiction

“Get your ass up and get ready, Sasha!” Darren shouted from down the hall. He kept his office near his best earners, the dubious honor of which often went to Sasha or her roommate.

“Get ready for … what?” Sasha questioned, yawning and trying to clear her head. The h****n had made her drowsy, and she had slept through the strongest part of the high. Now there was only the afterglow, and that was rapidly fading.

Molly was in the bathroom, probably getting high. She liked to use frequently but in small amounts, skin-popping or mixing the h****n with c***k cocaine and smoking it. Sasha preferred larger doses injected directly into a vein.

“Didn’t I tell you? Must’ve. Your stupid ass just forgot.” Darren’s voice held a rare tone of uncertainty.

“Why is it, Darren, that every time you f**k up, it’s my stupid ass that just forgot?” Sasha muttered under her breath.

“Somethin’ to say, b***h?” The words startled Sasha. Darren had come down the hall as she’d been muttering to herself, and now stood in the door.

Sasha looked up at him, the fear passing. The high was already fading, but the drug was still calming her, keeping her from sustaining any strong emotions. “No,” she told him. “Nothing.”

“Fuckin’ right. Listen, you got a client tonight. Weird motherfucker. I told him and told him, ‘Look, we got girls f**k you twice as good, and look better doin’ it too.’”

Sasha rolled her eyes. Despite her worth to him, Darren never let a chance go by to put her down.

“He was real particular though. Said he wanted you, and motherfucker gave me a whole list of s**t you supposed to wear. Listening?”

“Sure.”

“Black panties, black socks, black pants, black shirt. Tie your hair back in a ponytail. Wear a gold chain. Make your pale-ass little white-girl face even paler. Black lipstick, dark eye-shadow, lots of liner. Shower first, and clean yourself well. One gold chain, no other jewelry. No deodorant, no perfume. He says it

‘disagrees with him.’ Don’t look at me like that, I’m just quoting him.”

“What … the f**k?”

“Look, if he wants you to look like some strung-out addict–”

“I am an addict.” Sasha grumbled, her voice more insolent than was prudent. Darren looked at her for a moment.

“You’d do well not to mention that, or I could see some severe problems developing in your future,” he said, dropping the street dialect. This was a warning; Darren never adopted this manner of speaking with a girl unless she was perilously close to severe punishment. He’d cut a finger off the last girl. Cut her finger off and turned her out in the streets, bleeding and begging, in withdrawal, without a source of the drug. All alone.

“I’m sorry. Darren, I’m sorry!” Weak voice, heart pounding, Sasha was amazed that she still had this much capacity for fear in her.

Darren sneered at her and left. As soon as she heard the door shut, Molly peeked out from the bathroom. Seeing Darren gone, she moved back into the room.

“Even if you don’t hurt yourself, you’re going to make him hurt you sooner or later,” Molly said, and to this, Sasha found, she had no reply at all.

* * *

“You look wicked!” Molly clapped her hands and grinned. Even Sasha, preening before the mirror, had to admit that it was the truth. Her own predilection for black clothing had made dressing simple. The gold chain had been a bit harder, but it had been there, shoved into the back of a drawer. It would probably be broken; Men liked to tear them off in the heat of passion. But it had been requested, and Sasha knew Darren would inspect her before she left.

She was pale, her wavy blonde hair tied back with a simple piece of black rawhide. Big, green eyes now nearly luminous against her white face. Her silk blouse was low cut, her bra pushing her small breasts up and together. Her jeans were tight, emphasizing her legs, which Sasha had always thought the best part of her. She couldn’t claim they were long; she stood at just over 5’4”, but they were smooth and supple, shapely, the muscles not yet ravaged or wasted away by the drugs.

She had no black lipstick. Darren’s answer to this made her grimace.

“Borrow some from Lisa.”

Molly arched an eyebrow. “This should be fun.”

Lisa had attacked Sasha in the kitchen a week ago, screaming something about Sasha’s using ‘her shower.’ Sasha, who had no idea that shower territoriality was even of any significance, had been unprepared. She’d stood up, and Lisa had shoved her backwards against the table. Sasha had reacted instinctively, swinging back around and giving a shove of her own.

Lisa had fallen backwards, and the altercation might well have ended there. Sasha could see from the other girl’s eyes that she was not accustomed to anyone putting up an actual fight. Lisa was used to simply commanding and being obeyed.

Sasha had thought then of an earlier incident: Out of sheer spite, Lisa had forced Molly to turn over all of her money, strip naked, and shove the clothes down one of the building’s laundry chutes. She’d then stood at the top of the stairs and watched as Molly climbed down into the dank, spider-infested basement to retrieve them. The incident had given Molly nightmares for Sasha weeks.

A circle of girls had formed, though, and before either Sasha or Lisa could walk away, they were shoved right back into the center. Lisa, deriving confidence from the crowd, began shrieking again.

Looking incredulous, Sasha drew back her fist and punched Lisa in the mouth.

All of the fight went out of the other girl in an instant, and she crumpled to her knees. The blow had cost Sasha the skin on her knuckles, but it had cost Lisa Sasha teeth.

Darren had arrived to prevent any further damage from being done, though Sasha had no intention of pressing the attack. He’d grabbed Sasha, dragged her to his office, and slapped her twice across the face before grabbing her by the throat and forcing her up against the wall.

“b***h had it coming,” He’d conceded, “But now she can’t work and she looks like a damn hillbilly. Who gonna pay for the dentist? Not me.”

“I’ll work extra,” Sasha had gasped, barely able to breathe, and Darren had seemed to find this amenable. He had let her go, told her to get the f**k out, gone back to whatever it was he did during the day. Gasping and choking, Sasha had made her way out, and had taken multiple clients a night for the next three weeks.

Sasha and Lisa had not spoken since, but now Sasha had no choice. She took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. No response. Sasha knocked again, waited, grew angry. She hammered on the door. “Lisa! I know you’re in there. Open the f*****g door or the next time I see you, I swear to God I’m going to make a necklace out of the rest of your teeth.”

Click of a lock being undone. The doorknob twisted in Sasha’s hand and she let it go. Lisa’s puffy, petulant face stared out at her.

“I was sleeping,” she said, not a trace of it in her voice. The dentist Darren had hired to fix her teeth had been neither sober nor careful, and there was a large, dark space between the girl’s Sasha false front teeth.

“I don’t care. Darren says you have to lend me your black lipstick.”

Sasha had taken half a step into the room. Now she managed to move backward in time to keep the speeding door from hitting her in the face. She looked over at Molly, who was standing in their own doorway. Molly rolled her eyes. Sasha turned back, preparing to kick the door in, when it opened. Lisa hurled the lipstick at Sasha, who missed the catch. She heard it clatter against the wall behind her.

“Don’t ever f*****g ask me for anything again, cunt!” Lisa slammed the door closed again.

“You know, you really should get that gap in your teeth fixed, hon. Your S’s whistle!” Sasha called, her voice all sunshine and sugar. Behind her, Molly burst into bright peals of laughter.