Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
“You got your clicker?”
I pick up the device from the table and examine it, idly testing the buttons.
“Yeah. Remind me what this is for again?”
My father merely chortles, his slight paunch shaking.
“Motherfucker. For bidding, what else?” he says in an amused voice. “Did you forget? We’re here to buy a piece of ass.”
Then, the lights dim all the way so that it’s completely dark inside the booth. Meanwhile, a spotlight comes on in a bright circle outside, and a middle-aged Asian woman steps into the ring. She’s dressed formally, but in a weird way, with her hair lacquered into a stiff ponytail that doesn’t move. She’s wearing an embroidered skirt suit that also looks oddly stiff, and her mouth is a red gash.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” she purrs. “I’m Phyllis and I’ll be your auctioneer tonight. Welcome to Club Duality.”
She says a few more things, but I’m not listening. I’ve already lost interest in fact. If it doesn’t have bolt on boobs and a sopping wet cunt, then my ear drums don’t register any words.
But soon enough, Phyllis gestures off into the darkness, and a teen blonde comes wobbling out, dressed in nothing but a filmy slip and high heels. She’s gorgeous of course, if a bit thin. Her arms and legs are gawky like a newborn foal, and her tits small and flat, although her features are uncommonly luscious.
“This is Katie,” Phyllis sings with a sweep of her arm. “Eighteen and untouched, from Wichita, Kansas. Need I say more, gentlemen? Let the bidding begin.”
Okay, so there really isn’t going to be any background information. Instead, the numbers on a screen before Phyllis begin to flicker, and the auctioneer gasps with delight.
“We have an opening bid of fifty thousand dollars! Thank you, Mr. Jones in Booth 3. We’re off to a great start.”
Oh fuck, she knows who the buyers are, and is naming them as well. Well, what the fuck. I don’t really care if these assholes know that I bought a woman, because we’re all here for the same shit. Besides, if Katie is what’s on tap tonight, then my wallet’s going to stay closed because I don’t trade in skinny chicks. I’ve never been into knobby knees and sharp elbows, and I sit back to nurse my drink as the auction continues.
“Do I hear more?” Phyllis calls into the darkness. “One hundred for Katie? One fifty?”
I see my dad clicking idly, his expression amused as he takes in the girl outside.
“Yo Steve, that girl’s a quarter your age,” I drawl. “Literally, she could be your granddaughter. Not your daughter. Your granddaughter,” I emphasize.
“Yeah,” my dad murmurs, his eyes still glued to the teen blonde as she slips out of her thin dress. She’s nude underneath except for a tiny bit of pink floss shielding her pussy, and then ... whoops! Yep, Katie just lost the g-string, and is now bending over to show us her pale pink cunt. Again, skinny girls aren’t my thing so I’m a bit horrified at the lack of meat on her thighs and ass. I want something to grab when I’m fucking a woman, and clearly there’s nothing there but skin and bones. I swear, some chicks need to be fattened up before they go up for sale. They should be force-fed a giant McRib sandwich, with some fries tossed in as well.
But Steve doesn’t seem perturbed by the vertebrae poking through her skin, nor the enormous thigh gap between her slim legs. Instead, he clicks away, smiling happily through the glass.
“Yeah, she’s cute,” he says in a careless voice. “We can role-play some scene like a grandfather and granddaughter hooking up for fun on vacation. You now, shit like that.”
I start. What the hell? I had no idea my dad was such a dirty motherfucker, but then I stop myself. Of course I know that he’s a dirty motherfucker because he fucked my stepsister multiple times like it was no big deal. FUCK!
Rage fills my vision, and I close my eyes momentarily, trying to control my emotions. I’ve worked for two years to quell my anger at Steve because he’s my father, and family will always be family. Besides, the man continues to insist that nothing happened, and I don’t want to go over it again. I don’t want to hear his lies because it’ll just piss me off. Plus, to add insult to injury, Steve’s health is failing. I don’t want him to have a fucking conniption and die while we’re out here in the City of Sin.
Plus, I feel like I owe him. Not just for being my dad, and putting a roof over my head when I was young, but because I was in a bad accident after leaving Milly’s wedding. No one knows what happened exactly, but the police report says that I lost control of my vehicle and slammed head-on into a semi coming in the opposite direction. I should have died, but by some miracle I didn’t. I was badly injured, however, and Steve and Milly were the ones who nursed me through my recovery. If it hadn’t been for my father’s care, I would be still be in a full-body cast instead of enjoying a vacation in Vegas.