"Hustle Game/Muscle Game" Simony Chiavary Episode 8.

     There are many men who feel women are not their equals in the field of business. One of the arguments regarding this disdain for women in the business world is a simple one. These men don’t feel that women are capable of making decisions without excessive emotional influence. They feel that a woman’s emotions may get in the way, or supersede sound logical business decisions that are in the best interest of whomever they may work for. This of course has been proved wrong by many a femme fatale that has learned how to beat men at their own game. This has also been proved wrong by defeated men who never considered a woman’s sexuality could be used as an advantage. Some women have even broken weak men through intimidation, making them have an over abundance of emotions instead. This argument will be put to the test with an experiment in social science. Simony Chiavary will attempt to settle the debate once and for all and usher in a new breed of feminine hustler. Like her, many women have learned how to be pit bulls inside of their skirts. She will have to be that and more to make up for a loss of time on a new found love. She tries to prepare her mind to handle the pending mess that exists outside of her private chamber. It’s hard to focus for her while she stares at the arms of her would be lover. The size of his arms, hands and fingers are appealing to Simony but that’s not what impressed her most. His tattoos on the other hand had her quite mesmerized. She has the look of a curious woman, which Liam finds incredibly sexy. That look left her as they were interrupted by yet another knock on the door. The urgency of the knocking made it easier for her to peel from his touch. She has never known unconditional affection before this time right here, right now. Intimacy without a hidden agenda brings unfamiliar warmth to the short and feisty spit fire. An hour ago she was drunk with the potions of new power, now she’s dizzy with romanticized thoughts of Liam. The way he spoke, the way he touched and the way he made her feel was more intoxicating than the event of the moment. She collects herself knowing that new love is probably an easier issue to face than whatever’s waiting for her outside. She exchanges the red blazer of her power suit for a red bustier which accentuates her bust line and exposes her arms. Liam watches her as she puts her clothes back on without any shame spoken in her body language. She is now ready to do battle on her own terms. As she steps out of the room she says;

“I’m off to work dear, will you have supper ready when I return?”

Liam looks at her with the most sincere eyes a man could give a woman. It melts Simony’s heart as she trusts a man for the first time in the confines of a romance.

“Don’t keep me waiting all night”

He says to her playfully serious.

“If you don’t come back soon, I’m going to have to start asking your other guests questions about Bendito”

he finishes with a smile. Simony was almost out of the door when Liam said what he said and she doubles back when she hears it.

“You’re a beautiful man Mr. Irish”

she says before she continues.

“I’m not sure how long you would stay that way if you persist in looking for him. I’ve only met him once but that was plenty. He is an extremely clever and thorough man. He was watching me like a ghost and I didn’t even know it. I have little doubt that he would find you before you would find him”

“Or maybe you’ll run away with me and he’ll never find either of us”

says Liam as he blows her kiss through the air.

“Hold that thought”

Simony replies as she blows back a kiss through the air in return. She closes the door behind her and goes from heaven to hell faster than a fallen sky.

      You can hear a man’s scream in the distance. The security guard who first knocked on the door seems scared to approach the Brazilian bombshell. An already frustrated Victor sees the hesitation of his subordinate towards his boss and takes matters into his own hands. Victor walks around the hesitant guard and grabs Simony forcefully by her elbow and begins to speak. His grip is tight and so is his jaw as he screams quietly through his teeth. His voice is silenced completely in mid sentence when Simony uses her free hand to grab a handful of his genitals. His hand slides away from her arm like ice cream slides down a hot slice of pie.

“If we are going to be business partners Mr. Etienne, you are going to have to learn how to communicate without using your hands”

She says as she tightens her grip around his life source. Victor is agreeing with a series of submissive head nods, repeated over and over until she releases him. After looking over both of his shoulders to see who saw him get bested, he fills her ears with a laundry list of pressing issues.

“We have a number of fires that need to be put out”

says Victor.

“There’s an issue in the fetish room with guest number 27. The girls in the bondage room have taken the fantasy too far with guest number 13. Guest number 11 is having performance anxiety and want’s his money back and…”

“Hold on cowboy”

Simony interrupts the rambling Victor.

“Let’s put the biggest fire out first, then we’ll put out the little ones”

     Victor looks at her with contempt and she doesn’t know why. Victor never seemed to give her his full endorsement when she took over as controller. As they walk up the stairwell to the next level of the mansion, she thinks about the tension they’ve shared since their first meeting. She thought that her age or gender may be the reason he may not take her seriously, but now she’s not so sure.

Who would put their hands on their boss?

She thinks to herself rubbing her arm as she comes to the stairwells top tier. Simony was once alone with her thoughts but now she can barely hear herself think. Besides the screaming man, there are noises of pleasure all around the house within the distance and between the walls. The door that Victor leads her to first has no such sounds vibrating from its hinges. The crash of glass breaking repeats itself over and over between the mumbles of curses and insults behind the door. Victor smiles and says

“Here is your biggest fire Her Highness”

He smiles at her which makes her feel like he is mocking her dilemma. She doesn’t respond, feeling that the bug that is up the split God gave him is not worth her time. She bursts in the room immediately without knocking and sees what she did not expect to. With all of the noise they made you would think guest number 27 and his escort were trying to harm one another somehow. The two of them weren’t anywhere close to that. There was broken glass on the floor behind the door that crunched under the weight of her high heeled red shoes. Funny, she did not see any broken glass anywhere else. The escort was reclined in a huge leather love seat waring all her clothes except for her shoes. Guest number 27 was on his knees in front of her with one of her bare feet on his chest and the other foot was deep in his mouth. You would think they were chasing each other around the room throwing things but all Simony sees is this kinky but calm situation. “So you’ve got my attention” Simony says sternly to the escort who has an agonizing look on her face.

Then the girl speaks...

“I can’t even feel my toes anymore. He’s been sucking the blood out of my foot for the past 45minutes! It felt good at first, but I think he sucked one of the nails off!"

Then the guest takes her foot out of his mouth and speaks...

“That wounded little soldier was injured before I got to her”

Then he puts her foot right back in his mouth and continues. After an interrogation Simony learns that her toe loving guest was in the wrong room. This is a fetish room and feet aren’t a true fetish. If he had picked the right room he would have gotten the escort with the prettiest red toes he had ever seen, just like he requested. What he got instead was a beautiful woman who has lovely feet except for one toe she smashed on the side of the pool. The nail was already dead and he sucked it right from its wounded bed. She thought it would be an easy night’s work since he didn’t require sex. Now the concerned escort is ankle deep in his mouth with her twinkly toes touching his teeth and tickling his tonsils. She is well aware that she is not allowed to hit or strike a client unless he requests such a service. She cleverly started throwing their champagne glasses across the room towards the door. When that didn’t work she started yelling and he took a few brakes from sucking her puppies to yell back. Simony sweet talks him into the proper room with an offer he can’t refuse. She tells him that the customer is always right. Then she guarantees that the toes next door are the ones that he wants. Guest number 27 then asks her

“What will I receive if the toes are not up to my standards?”

She replies

“Then I will let you suck on my feet while I count out your refund money to you”

She then slides her foot out of her red high heeled Madison stiletto. Her foot is flawless and the guest leaves immediately. After he walks out, Simony tells the escort to gather her things, and to find some work to do. Simony then puts her own shoe back on before she moves on to the next one. She still hears a man screaming in the distance. That must be guest number 13 in the bondage room. She sees that Victor is still waiting patiently for her outside of the fetish room. There communication is nonverbal this time. He simply turns away from her and starts leading her to the room full of screams down the hall. Victor’s long legs and extended stride makes him a pretty fast walker. She keeps pace in spite of her short stance and high heels. They get about 10 paces before Simony is stopped by a stout gentleman with a very wide waist line. His black suit and silk red tie must be tailor made to fit, seeming that nothing off the rack is made that roomy. He has the look of a man who has had a rough life and terrible skin to go with it. He stinks of cigars and brandy and needs extensive work on his bottom row of teeth. Victor finally notices that they’re separated and stops in his tracks. He tries to make eye contact with Simony over the wide shoulders of the man in front of her but Simony doesn’t blink. Simony looks at the guest with warmth and invitation and she is wise to do so. She suspects that the gentleman standing in her walking path is the infamous Guest number 1. He is the first member of this private club with no name and he has the most influence and power among the other guests. He knows exactly who Simony is and sizes her up for his pending confrontation. Simony isn’t sure of what his beef will be, but she is sure that it will take some time to iron it out. The escort that had the toe issue is walking past the three of them and Simony grabs her wrist before the big man has a chance to speak.

“I need you to handle the disgruntled guest in the bondage room while I talk to this gentleman”

she whispers to her inner ear and continues.

“I will pay you an extra thousand if you handle this for me. He is guest number 13 and I need him to keep his screaming down so that he doesn’t disturb the other guests”

“No problem”

she replies before heading for the bondage room. The so called Controller then turns her attention back onto the big dog in front of her.

    
“Now then, how may I help you sir?”

“I have an issue with this new ledger system. I never had to sign my name before and I don’t see why I have to sign it now. I have a reputation to protect. If anybody gets so much as a whiff that I am participating at an event like this my career is over. I don’t need my signature left on any ledger for proof of an indictment”

he says to her in a flurry of spit and bad breath. Still she maintains her calm demeanor and doesn’t flinch even though she wants to throw up inside of her own mouth. His lack of hygiene does not upset her and neither does his complaint. She feels it’s a ligament concern that she and Bendito discussed already. What she does mind however is the fact that he is using his size to intimidate her. She knows that she’s just a little thing, but the thugs in the streets were not as intrusive as these cooperate thugs. She was already grabbed once tonight. Since these so called cooperate thugs want to act tougher than the ones she grew up with in the streets, she will talk to them that way.

    
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

she says to him in a low voice making her tone sinister.

“First of all, you need to back the fuck up. You respect my personal space and I will respect yours. If you get close enough for me to touch you again, I will have my guards bring pain to your supple body. I don’t care who you are. Do we understand each other?”

Guest number 1 is caught of balance by her threats and falls back a step which increases the distance between them. Even Victor is taken back at her boldness during this exchange. Then Simony continues her speech.

“Each of you men pays forty thousand dollars annually to be a member of these seasonal events. That equates to ten thousand dollars per party which is a bargain for you gentleman considering what services you get for your money. You get your choice between 50 women to fulfill your wildest fantasies. You get to launder all of the dirty money you make off of the books minus the annual fee. Your identity is guaranteed to remain anonymous by Bendito himself”

she says to him as he appears to be calming down. Yet she isn’t finished with him so she presses on.

“It was I that looked at the old system and decided to add the ledger with Bendito’s approval. I saw that if one of you powerful men decided to rat us out for some reason, we wouldn’t have a leg to stand on”

She says and Guest number 1 interjects.

“Why would any of us do that?”

he asks and then she replies.

“Perhaps one of you wants to get re-elected. Perhaps you decide you want to blow the lid off of this secret operation to look like you are in the interest of the public good. Perhaps you want to start your own business in the same field and want to rid yourself of your competition. There are many motives for eliminate us but I saw nothing that protected us”

she says to him before rounding out her reasoning.

“Consider your signature an act of faith. We can’t rat you out without incriminating ourselves, and now you can’t rat us out without doing the same. The signatures of our guests protect everyone in here from double crossing us and the man to his left. This policy is one that will stand as long as I am controller. This policy is non-negotiable. Now, do you understand, or am I going to have to be a bitch?”

The large man stares at her with his beady little blue eyes looking for some sort of weakness in her. He doesn’t find one. So he sticks out his hand to shake hers and she obliges him.

As she shakes the hand of the big nasty, she notices that she doesn’t hear the screams anymore. Big nasty then turns his attention to Victor who stands behind him and says

“You could stand to learn a thing or two from her Mr. Etienne”

The face Victor makes afterward is green with hater’s envy. As guest number 1 leaves to enjoy the rest of his night, the escort with the toe issue returns from her mission.

“Everything is taken care of Lady Simony”

she says.

“Lady Simony, I like that. Tell everyone else to call me Lady Simony and not Madame. Madame is old school, Lady is new. What’s your name sugar?”

Simony says while looking at the egg that’s still on Victor’s face.

“Swift”

says the lovely girl with the caramel complexion.

“How did you get such a nickname?"

Simony replies now giving Swift her full attention.

“I’m quick to jump into action. Sometimes it’s a good thing and sometimes it’s bad”

says the lovely working girl.

“I’ll tell you what Swift, why don’t you just help Victor put out the rest of the little fires in here while I go back to my chamber?"

“This new job description isn’t going to affect my pay is it?”

Swift says to Simony with the tone of an optimist.

“Indeed it does, it doubles it! Now if you will excuse me, I believe we all have a bit of work to complete”

    
Simony has brought calmness to the party that settles everyone down. She is learning the power of presence and vows not to disappear for extended periods of time during a party again. She concludes that many times people require our presence more so than our intervention. The guests felt abandoned when their host disappeared from the main floor. She is learning about some of the powerful men who give orders all day. She is learning that some liked to be bossed around outside of the kingdoms they rule over. This is the case for some of them but not for all of them. Some men like to be in control of everything. Some men like to micro-manage even when they don’t have to. She looks at her watch as she makes her way back down the stairs and sees that only an hour has gone by since she left her lover’s tattooed arms. She opens the doors to her chambers and learns about the power of presence yet again. She see that the fire place still burns brightly, but there is another flame her eyes are looking for. In front of the door she opens stands a man she did not expect to see. It isn’t a guest and it isn’t her mysterious lover with the tattooed arms. It is Bendito and he is lighting a tobacco pipe while he speaks to her from in front of the fire place.

“I see you did well even though you had me worried about you for a moment”

He says to her with smoke spewing from his nostrils. She says

“Thank you”

to him as her eyes search for Liam. Bendito however is no fool.

“I knew you could handle the hustle but I wasn’t sure you could handle the muscle”

Bendito explains which pulls her attention back to him.

“I’m glad you didn’t let these guys push you around”

Bendito finishes and Simony thanks him for the opportunity. Shortly afterward Bendito’s mood seems to flip as he looks at the arm of his daughter. On her arm he sees a bruise of redness around her elbow. For all the barbarian he can be, he wants no one to touch his only daughter. He watched Simony all night from the shadows of the party. He knows she disappeared in this chamber for a spell but thought nothing of it until now. He never saw Victor grab her elbow or the way Simony retaliated. He just knows she disappeared in this room with a guest that he didn’t recognize. At first he thought Liam Irish was her boyfriend from the way they were looking at each other. Boyfriend or not, he better not have laid a single finger on her. He thought nothing of it but now his anger is looking for answers. Now he feels that she must have received the bruise when she was in here with him. Something doesn't sit well with Bendito. Who would grab her like that? he thinks to himself. Bendito is on the right track but on the wrong train. Even the best make mistakes. The fact that he is jumping to conclusions proves that working closely with his daughter isn't such a good idea. His emotions have gotten the best of him, and in this arena that can cost you.

"At least he's not a total bastard"

Simony thinks while she watches him watching her. She already followed his eyes and noticed the bruise on her own arm and became self conscious of it. Bendito can see how uncomfortable this makes her so he gives her the most obvious question he can think of which is;

“Tell me all you know about Mr. Liam Irish.

I need to know if he was looking for me because I am damn sure looking for him!”

Next Up: Episode 9. "Lonely Song of the Siren"

“Guest Number Thirty-three” Simony Chiavary Episode 7

Episode 7 "Guest Number Thirty-Three"

Written By: Madison Lake & Graffiti Bleu

The ultimate high doesn’t come from a pill, powder, crystal or leaf. It comes from life being lived to its fullest potential. Some believe success is being at the right place at the right time. However, few can predict where and when these mystical lines will cross. Others believe that you make your own luck by the persistence of well played moves in life’s chess game. Simony Chiavary knows that neither perspective is fully correct or completely false. She knows the truth about success is a combination of the two. As she sits, she brushes her Brazilian mane while admiring herself in a vanity mirror. Satisfied with the bounce of her thick flowing curls, she stands on her feet to admire her solid red slacks and blazer. Underneath the red power suit she has nothing on but a red lace thong and Madison stiletto shoes with six inch heels. She’s living in the fantasy of having power for the first time. Her feminine bravado is exquisite and fierce. The caged cub is now the roaming tiger. No child of the ghetto has ever skipped the ladder to the top entirely. It takes most hustlers a lifetime to be this connected, where as she has achieved this at 21 years young. Her father had no choice but to throw her to the wolves early. For Bendito Chiavary does not have the luxury of time. As he was arranging for her to host her inaugural ball where sexual fantasy is exchanged for dead presidents, he realized he would have put her out early regardless. His “sink or swim”mentality was who he was to the core. His baptism by fire approach has kept him as sharp as he is. His only daughter adapts to the challenge with the resolve of a champion. She walks through a crowded smoking room with tall ceilings and a giant painting of a woman making wine with bare feet. All the men are in solid black suits tailor made to fit, with crispy white button down shirts and red silk ties. As she sexily bullies her way through the men who tower over her small frame, the crowd parts like a black bull’s eye pierced by a blood tipped arrow. This is respect for the woman they affectionately know as the“Controller” Her job is simple. “No man leaves unsatisfied, no man leaves with regret and no man leaves without exploring something new” she says at the end of her powerful speech. She gives it from the top of a chair at the head of the room. Standing at a mere five feet and one inch tall, she enjoys her position atop the chair looking over sex-thirsty guests who await instruction. She stays quiet for a time, peering out at the wealth that is ripe for the plucking.

     Simony invited thirty-two men and received their moneys before paying back Victor and pocketing a big bag of folded change. However the log book bared the signatures of thirty-three men not thirty-two. “Whoever could be/my guest thirty-three” She mumbles a melody in the tone of a child. She has been dying to find the identity of the infiltrator so that she can secure her new hustle.

“You men look like so many grapes ready to be picked from the vine” She says with her eyes scanning for the party crasher before she continues. One by one she counts the foreheads of her guests. Her eyes dart in a manner which makes every man feel like he is special. “Gentleman tonight!.. (She yells in a loud speaking voice) I only ask that you allow yourself to let go of your inhibitions” She climbs down from the chair as she finishes her speech. Her eyes have found guest number thirty-three. He blends in well with the others. The only reason she tagged him was because of his size. He’s a big boy, which Simony loved instantly. She gives him the once over and notices that he’s the only man not wearing a red silk tie. She does not rush to intercept him, nor does she tell Victor to escort him out. There is business to handle, and business always comes first. She pierces the crowd of restless men once more moving to a set of double doors at the back of the room. The doors are closed and she places one hand on each of the door's handles and pauses. “Gentlemen, I give you tonight’s entertainment!!!” She then pulls the french doors open wild and sudden, holding her hands in a flowing motion as they slide apart on rolling tracks. The men applaud wildly as they can now see the prize that is waiting beyond the doors. Fifty women of all nationalities are waiting with eager eyes and revealing lingerie.

     Somewhere inside of a mansion in Chicago, December 14, 2001; this is how the rich play. While the country is still reeling from the first terrorist attack on American soil, the rich indulge themselves like there is no tomorrow. With her guest now preoccupied, she can get to the business of picking the brain of guest number thirty-three. She walks up to him and he doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated like the others were. She guesses that at a stocky 6 ft 3 inches tall, he probably isn’t scared of much. “Mr. Liam Irish I presume” she says with the fire of inquisition in her eyes. “You are very good at what you do. This is quite a set up in here” he replies back with a playful guilt in his face. “I suppose you got my name from the log book outside? Did my black tie give me away?” he says back to her. “I noticed your height first actually, a short woman like me just so happens to like tall men" Simony says and continues. "Then I realized your tie was the wrong color” As she speaks she undresses him with her eyes. “What is the significance of the ties being red?” he replied back to her, as he slips his fingers through the creases of his Windsor knot and removes his from around his neck. “Red is a power color” she says “And in this room filled with powerful diplomats, bankers and money makers, there maybe confusion as to who is in control here” As she speaks Liam is fascinated with the boldness of this short sexy vixen. The gentle giant listens as her rant intensifies. “Since I am the controller, I thought it would be a nice touch to have all of my guest wear a red silk tie. This is to remind the dogs that I am holding their leashes” she says as she gets closer to him. If you received my invitation you would have known that, Mr. Liam Irish, if that is even your real name” Simony folds her arms across her chest as she waits for a slick reply. In doing so, her arms push her breasts upward making a supple and deeply cleaved offering to the guest in question. Liam Irish is in fact my real name but my question for you is; Are you really the controller?” Simony looks at him every way but sideways before he clarifies. “I’m not talking about the title itself. I suppose a better question would be; Are you the one who is really in control here? Or are you just the face on the package?” Liam’s question catches Simony off balance. She looks him deep in his eyes fishing for answers and clues. His poker face provides nothing for her to read so she sticks to protocol. “Regardless of what you know or what you think you may know, this is a private party. My guests love their anonymity and they pay me well to remain faceless in a crowded room. “You’re obviously not a cop, because a cop would know that the men in this room are powerful enough to end any cop’s career with the stroke of a pen” she says as she surveys the room to check progress. “I can’t argue with that” Liam says as his attraction for her begins to intensify. "I am sure one of the guys I saw in here used to be a senator from my home state” He concludes. "I know you want to keep this little thing quiet” Liam says to her in a voice that is calm but assertive, much like her fathers. She had him by the balls and now he has her by the neck. Her temper is short but she must show discipline and she must display leadership. For she knows her performance is being graded tonight. Simony takes a deep breath as she alters her plan and then she puts two fingers to her mouth. She whistles loud enough for her people to hear but not loud enough to disturb the other guest. Victor Etienne arrives with two huge bodyguards who stand on either side of Liam. “Mr. Liam Irish, come with me. I have something special planned for you…”

Liam didn’t follow the bodyguards to the back room, he was led quite persuasively with a pocketed gun stuck to his side. He didn’t mind. He would have gone anyway, but it wasn’t her thugs who had grabbed his attention, it was silky smooth Simony Chiavary.

“Now that we’re here, what do you have planned for me, or should I say us?” Liam put the question to her like a challenge, and as suspected, she took him up on it.

“This is my lair. I’ve brought you here because I smelled the animal in you, from the moment you stepped into the club.”

 Simony strutted over to a wall full of chains and whips, wiggling her hips as she went. Her stilettos certainly aided her moves, as it wasn’t easy not to flash her full, round buttocks when she walked in those things. When she reached her destination she flung them off, one heel landing in a dark corner of the room, the other by the stairs. Flaming torches mounted on stone walls were the only light. They sent an array of shadows flickering in all directions, creating an eerie mood in the dungeon-like space.

“Isn’t this a bit obvious?” Asked Irish, nodding his head toward the goth-like surroundings. “I mean, if you’re into fetishes, this is the epitome of them.”

Simony ignored him and continued to walk around the room admiring the ‘toys’ that hung from huge iron hooks and hangers.

“You have no idea my fetish, Mr. Irish, so don’t get your knickers in a twist - yet...”

Liam reined himself in. He was curious about this sexy young woman, and more than turned-on, but for the moment he felt out of his league. He was used to being top of the heap, running the show and keeping people in line. Now he felt like he was the one being put in his place, and he wasn’t used to it.

Simony pulled a leather strap down from a fireplace mantle where soft embers were smoldering. She flipped it once against the concrete floor and it cracked with a vengeance.

“You like whips, Mr. Irish?”

Not wanting to appear ruffled, Liam calmly replied with a simple, “No, but there’s always a first time.”

Simony laughed good naturally and hung the whip back on its hook. She bent down, picked up a small log from the wood box, and laid it on the coals. Blue and yellow flames shot up at once, and the room filled with an orange glow. Liam could’t help notice that Simony’s red satin pants had a zipper that ran from her waistband all the way down the seam of the left leg. An interesting fashion statement, he thought. While she was bent over, Liam took advantage of his position behind her to explore this mystery. First, he placed his palms gently around her small waist, to reassure her he wanted to play nice. She stayed put, bent over the fire. Feeling his heat, she nudged her backside up to him. He responded immediately by leaning into her. Then he backed off, and with deft hands, he began to slowly unzip. As he did, her dark, Brazilian skin became exposed, bit by sensual bit. Her lace thong only emphasized a smooth round butt that Liam caressed on his way down her leg until she stepped out of her slacks altogether. She turned toward him. Her red jacket was already unbuttoned, revealing full, round breasts, nipples hard and ready. She reached out her hand and took Liam’s, cupping it around her bosom so he’d feel its ripeness. He moaned softly.

“Was this what you were expecting?” Simony said, her voice as creamy as her skin, and what lay below.

 “I wasn’t expecting anything,” Liam managed to answer. “Not from the daughter of the notorious Bendito...Chiavary, is it?”

Simony froze. This is not what she had expected. Not at all. She tore his hand away and pulled her jacket around her bare chest, not bothering to cover her lower half. Instead she leaned back against the cold stone. Rather than repel him, she reached her own hand down and placed it between her legs, gyrating slowly to give emphasis to the act.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Apparently you don’t want to play nice after all, do you, Irish? Isn’t that what they call you, Irish? Well, I can play nasty too.” She reached up, grabbed the whip again, and held it out threateningly.

Liam was unfazed. During the short time spent together he’d figured her out, and could handle her, he knew that now. It was just a matter of time until she was putty in his hands.

“Listen, Simony. I didn’t crash your party to play nasty, or to mess with you. I actually came to warn you.” Liam steadily held her gaze. He wanted to impress upon her that he wasn’t fooling around.

“What makes you so sure I need to be warned of anything?”

“Simony, quit playing hardball with me. I’m from the streets too. I know my stuff, and I know what’s going down in this city. Your Dad, Bendito, do you know exactly who he is, what he does?” 

Simony thought of getting even cockier with him, just to up the ante. She didn’t like being overpowered, but there was something in his voice, something in his aura, that made her want to listen to this total stranger who had shown up at her gig unannounced. She didn’t know what it was, but there was something trustworthy in his demeanor, and after the low-life’s she hung around most of the time, she found it very attractive indeed. But his talk of ‘her father’ made her uncomfortable. She knew him as Bendito. That was all. Sure, there were times she had her suspicions about him, but Bendito had never let on, so it had been easy for her to put any questions she had in the back of her mind. There had been something familiar, something alluring about Bendito from the start, but she was only along for the temporary ride. That was it.

Sensing that it might take some work to get to the heart of Simony Chiavary, Liam removed his jacket and spread it on the floor in front of the crackling fire. Then he took off his shirt, reached around her, and tied the arms around her waist to cover up her nakedness before helping her down to sit by the fire. She had never had a man treat her with such chivalry before - ever, and was completely taken with him, but tried not to show it.

Startled, but not surprised, his taut, muscular body was covered in tattoos. One in particular, a spitting Indian Cobra that ran from tail to tongue down his arm from his left shoulder, caught her attention. Dangerously beautiful, inked in green, blue and yellow, she could hardly tear her eyes away. There were others too; roses, so delicate she felt she could smell them, dancing skeletons, what looked like a mother’s face, and the words truth. Mesmerized by this magnificent body, and the art upon it, she forgot she was staring, until she saw Liam watching her with interest.

“You like?” He asked.

Caught off guard, Simony did what any person whose vulnerability was in question would do. She countered defensively.

“So then, tell me Irish, what do you know?”

Liam took a few seconds to find the right words. “Well, I guess that depends on what you want to know I know.”

 “Don’t mince words with me, Mr. Irish. You know exactly what I want to know.”

“Actually, I don’t.” He replied calmly.

 Anxiety was building in her now. She was perturbed at having to pull this information out of him, but she was desperate to know what he knew about Bendito. Was he her father? She wanted - no, she needed to know, but could this man tell her? The word truth, tattooed over his heart, made her think he could.

“If you want to know about your father, I can tell you what I know,” Liam offered. “As much as you might love the guy,” he went on slowly. “He’s a rotten sonavabitch. I’m sorry, Simony. That’s the truth.”

Liam waited to let his words sink in, but noticed Simony bore no apparent reaction.

“I’m sure he’s good to you, Simony, but he’s the devil to everyone else.”

 For a moment he thought she’d make a good poker player, stone faced as she was, and he could always use a good card shark. He also noticed how serene her eyes looked, in the fiery glow of light cast upon her. She was an exotic beauty, and although he had to tell her the truth - about everything - he also wished he could put this evening on rewind, to go back to the moment when the two of them had stood so close to one another it had burned. Although he had wanted more than just his body to crave for this spicy vixen, it had been that moment when the pulse of his male desire took hold of him. The pain of wanting, but not yet receiving satisfaction, was the devil itself, but then, he was still learning the patience of being more than a man. With time, he thought, with time I will beat this. With time, I will win her heart.

 “So, what makes you think he’s my father? Who told you that was his last name? Who?” She demanded. “I already know he’s a sonavabitch. Tell me something I don’t know.” Simony said, a little less sharply. Liam was instantly brought back to reality.

“Okay,” he said, feeling brave. “Do you know that this exclusive men’s club, all the clubs Bendito runs, are just a front?” He let the words sink in.

“What do you mean, a front. What else is he up to, gun running, drugs? C’mon, Irish. I know Bendito ain’t no saint.”

“Try human trafficking”

 Simony’s mouth dropped. “Whaaat! What do you mean human trafficking - like immigrants, kids, what?”

“Listen, Simony, I have a lot of friends in the know in this town. I ain’t no saint myself, or at least I haven’t been, but I’m trying to clean up my act, and any other act I can along the way. Too much has happened and once bad starts it just gets badder, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, and no.” She waited.

“I have some good friends who work at Bendito’s clubs, good people. I’m not talking about the bartenders or the bouncers, I’m talking about the ladies, the girls who dance, the ones deemed as ‘cheap tricks’. You get my drift.” Simony listened, again without showing emotion.

 “A lot of these girls are good stuff,” he went on. “They’re just trying to get some work to set themselves right. Many of them have children they’re trying to provide for, the only way they know how. I’m not saying it’s great, but it’s a start for many of them, and they are trying to pull themselves out of the darkness.”

“So you’re Robin Hood, the hero to save them all from damnation. What? Do you ‘take care’ of all of them? A real ‘serviceman.” She laughed sarcastically. Liam looked stern.

“Shut the fuck up, Simony. You don’t know what I do.”

 As soon as the harsh words left his mouth he regretted saying them. He didn’t want to put her off, didn’t want to hurt her. He knew her pain, and wanted, needed her as an ally. Besides, he’d taken a fancy to her. He wanted to explore their capabilities beyond just a tug of a bra strap.

 “I’m sorry, Simony. I didn’t mean to bark at you, but take care.” He continued slowly, genuinely. “Recently a good friend of mine went missing. She works at one of Bendito’s places. She just disappeared. She’s about the third or fourth victim from a number of clubs over the past eight months, so I’m starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together.” He paused. “The common denominator in all the cases is Bendito. He was the last person to be seen with each girl before they disappeared.” Liam took a deep breath. “I don’t know about you, but it all points to...”


“Women.”

Simony’s eyes were tearing up, but Liam left her alone. He knew instinctively she needed to deal with her unexpected emotions. She brushed away the teardrops and gazed into the fire. Blue flames simmered above red hot coals. It warmed her, and for a moment she forgot where she was and what she was dealing with. She wished she could stay there, in this place of quiet abandon, but memories of her childhood reared their head again. She turned to Liam.


“I often wondered why, after all these years, Bendito sought me out, why he set me up in this place, running this business. I suspected he might be my father. But now I’m convinced he’s not. There’s no way such evil could be in my bloodline. No way!”

 Liam let silence fill the room. They both needed to feel some peace, the reality too much to bear. He looked at her with care and concern.


“I know this isn’t easy for you, Simony.”


“Hell, what’s easy in my world, huh?” She was crying now, not holding back anymore. “I guess that’s why you’re the party crasher. You came to crash my party. You came to ruin my life.”


Simony looked at up at him. Her eyes were filled with pain and anger, but also with passion, desire, and longing. Liam stood, and grabbed the leather whip from its hook. Turning, he flung the long arm of the whip around Simony’s waist and hoisted her up to standing. Then, with a light pull, as he felt no resistance, he reined her in to his own yearning body. The only sounds were the crackling of the torches and fire, but neither were burning as bright, leaving a soft luminescence in the room. They could hear a faint thump-thump of bass coming from the upstairs party, along with what sounded like raucous laughter, but Liam and Simony easily blocked it out. They had more important things to pay attention to.


Liam felt her hard nipples lightly touch the hairs on his chest. He kept her at a distance to allow the heat between them to play with their desire. His breath blew against her neck, then down to her full, inviting breasts. Loosening the whip from her waist, he drew the long leather strap from behind her, up through her legs, until he held it again. Her garments had fallen away, and her lovely skin was once again revealed. With care, he placed the strap around her and pulled her face to his, rubbing the thin leather against her upper shoulders. She let her head fall back, exposing a slender neck to him, but he did not touch, did not kiss her. He could feel his groin ignite excitement in her, even though their bodies did not meet. That was the essence of true foreplay - don’t touch - until absolutely necessary, until the urge was uncontrollable. Liam knew in this instance it wouldn’t be long.


All of a sudden they heard footsteps coming down the wooden stairs, and two of Simony’s goons entered the dimly lit room. Liam pulled away and stood in front of Simony protectively. She didn’t bother to cover herself up. The men knew they were way out of their depth intruding on their privacy. They would do more than hear about it later.


 “What do you want?” She snapped.


Both men kept their heads down, but the taller man quickly spoke.


“We’re sorry to intrude, Madame Chiavary. We wouldn’t have, except things are getting out of hand upstairs. There’s a problem.”


Simony glared at the men.


 “What kind of problem? We don’t have problems here. Take care of it, and don’t bother me again.”


 The two men turned on their heels, keeping their heads low but glancing over at one another. Simony looked up at Liam, who had tuned his body back around and was now pressed up against her. She could feel his arousal and it made her heart skip a beat. Letting her back arch, she acknowledged his yearning. Her mouth met his in an instant, wet embrace, their kiss long and languid. With large, muscular hands, Liam began to explore the smooth sculpture of her body, trying to embed each curve, her full suppleness to memory. Each stroke of skin brought him closer to losing control, yet he wanted this moment to last. Control, he thought, is more than a position of power.


As his mouth left hers, he let his tongue find its own way, licking and sucking as he discovered new parts of her body, new tastes. He knew what he wanted, what he was after, but he would take his sweet time getting there. Pleasure was in the wanting and in the waiting, and her trembling body told him she knew this too. As his mouth reached for her moist oasis, and their bodies shook with pleasure, the door to her secluded chamber opened and a crash of footsteps came clambering down. Liam rose, and by the time he turned, there were four big men standing before them. No longer were they shy or withdrawn in their invasion of privacy. The same tall guy who had come down earlier spoke, this time with urgency. Liam kept his arms around the naked Simony, but the men didn’t seem the least bit interested.


 “Madame Simony, we have a serious problem upstairs. Your presence is needed...now.” The man, breathless, continued. “The others are doing all they can to keep things under control, but...” His words trailed off when they heard a loud crash...

Next Up: Episode 8 "Hustle Game/ Muscle Game"

Side Note: Anytime you have a project this ambitious it involves help from like minded thinkers. To have an idea and then execute that idea into an artistic creation takes everyone being on the same page at the same time. The for mentioned is very difficult to pull off. That's why I would like to say a very special thank you to Author Madison Lake for her diligent work on this project. The character "Liam Irish"fascinates me to no end. He is a main stay inside of the on going story that runs on her blog "Modern Trash" Liam Irish will be back to mingle with Simony later on in this book but this episode and his own story can be found at...

http://madisonlakepages.blogspot.com/