Read Online Ceasefire by Scarlett Black - Free Book Online

seen.”
    “You
don’t know that.”
    “Actually,
I do.”
    “How?”
    “Unlike
you, I did my research.  I know enough of your family history to assume that
you’ve never seen what six zeros looks like in a bank account.  Why do you
think I made you wait so long before inviting you into my office?  I had a… friend …look
you up.”
    “But
you said you hadn’t had time to look at my resume.”
    “I
was testing you.  Nothing major—I wanted to see how easily you sweat in
uncomfortable circumstances.  It won’t happen often, because we provide the
highest quality protection—from a distance—but it will happen, and you
need to be able to handle it.  That’s where that stipulation comes in. 
    “If
you refuse to meet the terms our clients pay for, then we’ll have problems.  I
review them on a case-by-case basis, in the event something happens that’s out
of your control.  I rely on the security detail for that.  I trust their
opinions and weigh their judgment into my decisions.  However, if you change
your mind halfway through dinner and decide you don’t want some billionaire’s
dick up your ass, and it costs me money and a loyal client, then I have every
right to terminate your contract.”
    “Whoa,
wait a minute.  You want me to do anal ?”
    Roman
popped another ice cube into his mouth and crunched.
    “Stop
that,” I snapped.  My nerves were already marching toward frazzled, and I
didn’t need the uncomfortable noise compounding things.
    He
held up his hands, resigning, apologizing with his gesture.
    “So
again, Roman , you want me to do anal?”
    Roman
shook his head and put a hand on his chest.  “All I want is for you to
provide the best possible experience to our clientele.  What you agree to is
your decision.”
    “I
have a choice?”
    “Yes,
you do.  Here’s how it works: a client comes to us, says he needs a date for
the evening, or maybe someone to accompany him on a business trip to Paris. 
We’ve seen it all and heard it all.  Most of them attempt to be discreet like
that.  Some call it a date and that’s all it means.  They’re bored and they
want some worthy company for dinner.  You go have a nice meal, chat about
something like the fate of Zimbabwe’s economy and you’re done for the night. 
But—and this is more likely—they call it a date and what they really mean is
they want you to dress them up like a baby and threaten to take their pacifier
away while they masturbate on your feet.”
    “Gross,”
I said.  “Are some of them really that pathetic?”
    “It’s
not pathetic.  It’s not gross.  Think of them as needs, Kim.  Unmet needs.  We
all have them, sexual or not.  These men and women come to us so they can experience
what they’re actually thinking about while they’re slipping it to their wives
in the missionary position.  They want someone to jack off their minds and their cocks.”
    “If
you’re trying to talk me into this, that’s not the image I needed.”
    Roman
grinned.  “I thought you might say that.  Look—all of this, everything we do
here, it’s the truth in human nature.  I can’t remember who said it, but if
‘character is what you are in the dark,’ then reality is what happens when you
think no one’s watching.  Or, in our case, when a client pays so no one else can watch.”
    “And
I’m required to do all this freaky stuff if I want a job?”
    “No.”
    “No?”
    “You’re
required to do what you agree to do, before anything happens.  A client comes
to us with broad requests first, right?  Take you, for example.  He asks for a
blue-eyed blonde in her early twenties, who’s business-literate and funny.  We
show him your picture and qualifications, along with the other staff members
who match the request, he picks you, and we’re ready to move forward.  He
thinks two grand an hour will get him whatever he wants, but it doesn’t work
that way.  We up-sell him based on how perverted he wants