5 Chapter 5 - Sex and Violence

Sam held up two tubes of pink lip-gloss, trying to decide which shade went best with her yellow floral print sundress. Wavering back and forth between the two, she took her time before making her choice and dragging the applicator across her bottom lip. She smooshed her lips together to smoothly coat them with the pale translucent pink gloss.

She repeated the process a few times until she was satisfied with the shiny pink luster it gave her luscious cupid's bow lips. Then she tugged and teased her curly brown lob until it was perfectly messy.

The face in the mirror pouted and smiled in turn until Sam couldn't help but giggle at herself for acting so vain.

But what could she say? She just looked too damn good.

Her emerald green eyes sparkled as she winked at herself in the mirror and turned to grab her purse. She quickly checked that the windows were closed and locked before stepping out the front door of her apartment.

After locking the door, she headed for the elevator with a happy little bounce in her step. Tonight was going to be a good night.

As if to prove her point, the elevator dinged, signaling its arrival just as soon as she pressed the button. Absolutely nothing was going to slow her down! She grinned and spun in place, enjoying the way her skirt flared out as the doors opened.

However, the moment she stopped and faced the elevator, she sucked in a breath of cold air, and her smile disappeared.

"I see you're still running around dressed like a whore," a low voice growled at her. Anger and aggression laced the words like poison, and Sam felt her hair stand on end.

The voice belonged to a man who could only be described as average: average height, average build, average face. The only thing that made him even a little interesting was the brown curls on top of his head. 

The same chestnut curls that Sam had inherited from him.

"Hey, dad," she said with a sour smirk, doing her best not to show fear. Whenever that man sensed her terror, things would always go from bad to worse. "Nice to see you too. Now I really must be going. Let's do this again never!"

She shot him a dark look, pretending not to care as she turned on her heels to leave, but her father grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her back hard.

She nearly fell to the ground when one of her heels snagged on the carpet, but fortunately, she was able to regain her balance. 

Her wrist hurt in the beast's vice-like grip, and struggling did nothing to loosen it. He had a good 17-18 centimeters on her 157.48cm frame and a great deal more muscle.

"Where do you think you're going?" her father challenged sharply. His voice sent an ice-cold shiver down Sam's spine, stirring up a myriad of less than pleasant memories. "I'm not done talking to you yet."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Sam murmured submissively. She stopped fighting and looked meekly at her feet. 

Sam knew better than to act up in front of her old man, especially when he was in a mood, but sometimes she just couldn't help herself. In a weak voice, she pleaded, "Please let me go. I have an appointment."

"Bullshit, you have an appointment," her father mocked, gazing coldly at her meek expression. "You're going out to slut your way around town like you always do! You're such a damn disappointment. A fucking disgrace."

He sneered cruelly at Sam before adding, "If your mother saw you dressed like this-"

SMACK!

'Ho-holy shit! You idiot!' Sam screamed at herself internally. 'Stupid, stupid. Stupid! He's gonna kill you for sure this time!' 

She couldn't believe she had actually slapped the bastard. As satisfying as it was, and the look on his face was extremely gratifying, no matter what, it was never a good idea to poke the fire. It was time Sam got out of there, or she would end up suffering miserably.

The slap had surprised her father as well, causing him to loosen his grip. 

Seizing this fortuitous opportunity, Sam ran toward the stairs, pulling off her heels as she went so that they wouldn't trip her on the way to the ground floor. She didn't even pause to look over her shoulder.

Her footsteps echoed as she raced down the metal stairs, a dull thudding that matched her heart beat for beat. Combined with her loud and labored breathing, it was too loud to hear whether or not her father had followed her, and she was much too afraid to stop and check. Instead, she raced down the seven flights of stairs and out the door in one go. 

In her panic, she didn't stop running until she had gotten a block away from her building, only stopping to catch her breath once she made it to the bus stop. 

Panting heavily, she collapsed onto the bench. The surge of adrenaline that had yet to wear off made her feel jittery and on edge, and her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she pressed down those negative emotions in her heart.

She would not let that bastard ruin her makeup!

It was completely unfair of him to bring up her mother. Although Sam and her mother had never really gotten along, and the older woman certainly did not support Sam's lifestyle, the need to gain her mom's approval was carved into her bones.

A lost cause like her father would never allow for anything less than complete surrender, but Sam still clung to the dream that one day her mom would be able to see her side of things and accept her for who she is.

In the end, though, she did have to admit that her father's accusations weren't without cause. Sam did spend a fair amount of time "slutting around town," and she really was lying when she said she had an appointment.

But so what?

It was none of his business if she wanted to go out to the club and find some beautiful stranger to hook up with for the night, and he had absolutely no right to slut-shame her. She was an adult. She should be allowed to make her own decisions.

A woman has needs. It wasn't as though she was particularly proud of her promiscuity, but she wasn't ashamed of it either, and she refused to be bullied into being someone she wasn't.

Maybe one day she'd find someone to settle down with, but she doubted such a person even existed.

While she silently fumed, she used a rideshare app to call for a car. The club wasn't far from her apartment, but all the running earlier had worn her out, and she wanted to get to the club before all the hotties got scooped up.

Fortunately, the driver who came to get her seemed to sense that she was in no mood to talk, so they rode in silence. He only spoke to confirm her destination and confirm payment when they arrived in front of 'Poison Apple,' her favorite hunting grounds.

Sam strolled leisurely up to the bar and ordered a dirty martini. As she sipped the savory drink, she browsed the crowd, casually observing her prey.

A tall, voluptuous blonde met her eyes from across the bar, sending her a look filled with lust and the promise of a good time. Sam quirked up her eyebrow and smirked, but rather than accepting the clear invitation, she turned away and let her eyes wander across the dance floor.

Although Sam wasn't picky about the gender of her partners, tonight, she was craving the feeling of a hot throbbing cock in her mouth. No matter how sexy the woman at the bar was, she would inevitably be unable to satisfy that desire.

The thumping bass resounded in the club, and the dance floor was a sea of bodies bouncing and swaying with the music, bumping and grinding against each other with no regard for personal space or boundaries. Although there were a few prime specimens, Sam was reluctant to enter the throng, so all she could do was make her way over to a booth and wait for one of them to emerge on their own.

A waiter came over, and Sam ordered another drink. 

The ethereal atmosphere created by the dancing lights and fog machines created an alluring atmosphere, and as she downed a few beers and another martini, Sam felt as though she was floating in the sea. 

She allowed herself to indulge in this feeling for a moment. However, the dizziness soon overwhelmed the euphoria, and she started to feel sick.

While making her way to the front of the club for some much-needed fresh air, she noticed an underage and visibly drunk kid hitting on the beauty who had tried to pick her up earlier. The woman was being quite obvious, but the boy didn't seem to understand that he was being rejected.

Sam made her way over to them. Impulsively she walked up behind the kid and whispered seductively into his ear, "Hey, why don't you ditch the ice queen and come play with me instead?"

The boy jumped at the sudden feeling of hot breath tickling his ear. Rubbing at the itchy sensation, he quickly turned his head. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a pair of deep alluring green eyes.

He felt his face heat up, and only part of it was because of the alcohol.

Sam smiled. So cute. It was a pity he wasn't just a few years older. She would have liked to gobble him up, but she was always very clear about the line between too young and old enough. After all, she had no interest in defiling young boys.

Not waiting for the kid to answer, Sam took him by the hand and headed out the door. The boy followed dumbly behind her, docile and obedient as she led him outside.

However, once they were a comfortable distance from the club, Sam dropped the boy's hand and turned to face him with a stern look.

"What are you thinking?" Sam scolded, her emerald eyes narrowed as she glared at the boy. "Getting drunk at a bar and going home with a stranger? Are you stupid?"

The kid looked at Sam with an expression of shock and indignation, but she didn't give him a chance to respond. "Tsk, tsk. What if I was some kind of pervert or human trafficker, huh? Then you'd really be in trouble."

Even though it was somewhat hypocritical for Sam to scold anyone for acting out since she hadn't waited until she was an adult either, she still always tried to keep others from going down the same self-destructive path. 

"How old are you, anyway? Seventeen? Younger?"

"Who are you to tell me what to do? My mother?" The kid glared at Sam, his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips turned down into an adorable pout.

"If you agreed to go home with me thinking I was your mother, then boy, you've got problems," Sam quipped, snickering at her own joke.

"Huh?" The kid stared at Sam, confused for a second before he realized what she was implying. "N-no! You're too young and pretty to be my mom!"

After realizing what he had just said, the boy blushed and looked away. 

'So cute,' Sam thought, flattered, but she didn't do delinquents, so, smirking, she replied, "You're sweet kid, but I'm no pedo. Call me in a couple of years when you grow up."

"I'm an adult!" the boy asserted, without a trace of maturity evident on his pouty face. After fumbling around in his pocket, he eventually produced a wallet and handed Sam his ID card. "See? I just turned 18 last month."

Sam turned the card over in her hands, giving it a cursory glance. Either it was an excellent fake, or he was telling the truth, and since there was virtually no point in getting a fake ID that wouldn't even let you buy smokes or booze, she decided to believe him.

Kyle Greenaway, huh? She looked him over again. Well, if he really was old enough, he wasn't bad-looking for a baby-faced kid. 

Still, she couldn't help bullying him just a little bit more. "I don't know, Kyle. This could be fake. Are you sure you're not 16?"

"Seriously?" the kid whined. Huffing, he snatched his card back and stuffed it and his wallet in his back pocket."If you don't want to fuck me, then fine, but I didn't come out here to be made fun of."

'Honestly,' Sam thought. This guy's like a little puppy, wagging his tail when he's happy and nipping ineffectually when you tease him. Suddenly she couldn't wait to get a taste of him.

"Hush, puppy," Sam soothed, gently ruffling the boy's hair. "I believe you. So, do you have your own place, or do you want to find a hotel?"

Brushing her hand away irritably, the kid's eyes nonetheless lit up when Sam suddenly changed her tune. 

He looked pensive for a minute before shyly stammering, "M-maybe... Could we go to your place?"

Putting a hand over her mouth, Sam chuckled. She thought to herself, 'Ah, this kid really is just too cute.' 

However, she never brought her partners home with her. It made things messy if they got attached and started showing up at her apartment whenever they felt like it.

She tapped her fingers against her lower lip, deep in thought. Then a peculiar notion entered her brain, and, grinning wickedly, she stated, "Actually, I have a better idea. Come with me!"