Joelle
“Welcome to the Peep Show. Where all your sexual fantasies come true. We have dancers, contortionists, naked fire breathers, hula hoop girls. We have girls of various varieties,” Meryl, the ringmaster, booms.
“We have big girls, tall girls, short girls, we have a dominatrix, we have daddy’s girl,” he says as each screen goes up. Once mine goes up, I twirl in my little school girl outfit, licking a sucker before kneeling on my cube floor, playing it up to the crowd. The men, perverts, cheer and jeer.
Meryl has this set up like a red-light district with girls in window cubes. We dance and make lewd gestures. When a man wants to sample, he pays the owner, and then he is escorted to our private tents.
I did say tents. I’m part of a traveling strip show. Really it becomes an orgy if you stay in the main tent. This is the time, if I’m not chosen, I leave. I don’t even like what I do, but it’s a job. I mean, I do like sex, but that’s all this is. There are no feelings involved, no foreplay. I give them what they want as a good daddy’s girl, and they go home satisfied.
My life has always sucked. I grew up in an unhappy home with my parents constantly fighting all the time. Although my mother loved me unconditionally, there was no love from my father, I was the mistake that broke him. She always showed her love for me. She read me bedtime stories, shielded me from my dad when he was drunk. She always made sure I had a slice of pie when I would come home from school.
One day my life changed, which sent me bouncing from one family member's home to another, being passed around like a dish at the dinner table, and not some child who witnessed a horrific event. There is no such thing as a knight in shining armor that rides in to save the day, this is real life, they simply don’t exist.
I came in from school and dropped my bag at the door, and went in search of my mother. Both my parents were in the kitchen, but it wasn’t a loving site. My father had my mother pressed up against the table and was shoving his cock in her. She struggled and cried. When they realized I was there, my mom tried to get away.
“You’re going to watch, sweetheart,” my father sneered. I tried to get to my mom, but my father shoved me down.
“If you move, I will kill her,” he snarled as he continued hurting my mother. I watched in horror as my father raped my mother. That’s how I remember it.
“It’s okay, baby,” my mother said with tears in her eyes, which caused me to tear up.
“You know your mother is a dirty whore, don’t you, baby,” my father hissed as he emptied his balls in her before pulling out.
I know I shook my head because my mom loved my dad even though he hurt her.
“She is cheating on me,” he said as he moved towards me, kneeling in front of me, “what should her punishment be, baby?”
“I don’t think….” I didn’t get to finish my sentence when he slapped me. My mother cried out. Then everything happened so fast, I watched my Mother come to help, and then she was lying there on the floor with a knife sticking out of her back.
“Fuck you, stupid bitch,” my father said before turning back to me, “that’s what happens to bitches.” My father spat on my mother and walked out of the house.
When the police found me, I was holding my mom and crying. I don’t know who called the police or how long I was on the floor. I couldn’t even tell you where my father was.
The trial was long, and having to get up and testifying in front of the man that took a loving mother from me was excruciating. Having to relive that day over and over for months sent me into panic attacks. I have nightmares still to this day. It was ordered for me to seek professional help in hopes that it would help my anxiety, panic attacks, nightmares, and trust issues. Those developed later when I kept getting pawned off on the next person. I went to live with my aunt first on my dad’s side. She blamed my mom for all of that happened. Yes, she blamed the victim. She later told me it was my fault and passed me off to an uncle on my Mom’s side and was a drunk. That didn’t go well for me. He tried to touch me I broke his hand and off I went to another family member. I grew up feeling unwanted, unloved and I looked for acceptance anywhere I could find it. In school, I was a nerd, quiet, studious. I was a follower though. Easy prey since everyone knew my story, what happened to my mom, where my dad was. I had to endure those whispers for years. I wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere. That’s when I met Henry.
He was the guy that every guy wanted to be, and every girl wanted to be with, but he chose me. I thought it was because he loved me. We did move in together after all. We did everything a couple would do. Then one night, my world came crashing down. I became a toy, a pawn in his sick game. He took money for men to come and have their way with me. I didn’t even see it coming. I went to the store and the minute I walked through the door I was grabbed. Clothes ripped off, pushed down into the cushions of the couch while men took turns. I never saw their faces only Henry’s. He sat in a chair across the room and laughed. Laughed as that was happening to me. When the men were done, I watched as they passed wads of cash over to my boyfriend. And then he treated me like a common whore, tossing some money at me, and told me to leave. We never spoke again.
I ended up on this traveling sex circus because I needed a job, and I wanted the power. I never wanted to feel helpless again. My acts at night are like a superhero or villain. By day I’m the quiet, nerd and by night I’m a sexy vixen who makes men’s dreams come true. I’m also a killer.
I don’t realize it’s happening. I don’t relish in it. But I can’t stand it when I’m called pet names other than baby or daddy’s girl. It’s like a trigger that sets me off. My first kill was about a year ago. He called me sweetheart, which would be sweet, but for some reason, it took me back to the day my mom was killed. I sliced him open, letting him bleed out on me like I needed the blood. When I snap back to reality, that’s when the remorse sets in. I remember what I did, but I can’t help it when it happens. Hammond cleans up for me, gets rid of the body, and then makes sure I’m blood-free and ready to go. He’s so good to me. When guys can’t get me off, he is there for me. Sex is just sex; I’ve learned not to ever put feelings into it.
“The first customer of the night,” Hammond pokes his head in.
“Okay,” I take a deep breath and clear my head so I can get into character.
“Look at you,” the nameless man says as I twirl around for him. I know my role.
“Do you like, daddy?”
“I do, princess. Come suck, daddy’s cock,” he says as I crawl to the edge of the bed to do my duty. He unzips his pants and pulls out his hard cock, it’s nothing to write home about. I’ve seen various sizes and shapes. He grabs my hair and uses it as a leash as he fucks my face. I make moaning noises, not that this is turning me on.
“Play with yourself,” he orders and I do, even though I’m not anywhere wet enough for him to shove it in.
“Yeah, just like that, pinch that clit,” he groans as I suck his cock.
I do what I’m told, it is my job after all. Before long he’s coming down my throat.
“Thanks, sweetheart, daddy needed that.”
