Page 11 of Cookies and Control

I keep going, “Step outside and take a breather, Bull. I won’t let her out of this room.” I angle my head to Betsy and wink.

Seven

Betsy

Rocky winked at me. It’s possible I imagined it, but his lingering gaze bores into me in a way that tells me I didn’t need an imagination this time.

He’s fighting this battle for me. Or maybe with me. I sense that he feels the same compassion for his brother’s struggle as I do.

Danger and excitement race through me.

And if I understand, he’s suggesting that if we get Bull out of the room, he’ll have sex with me.

My breaths are decidedly heavy as my father rakes his hand through his hair. He mumbles to himself. He adjusts his pants.

Then he turns and glares at Rocky. “It’s my duty to protect Betsy in this den of men who want to fuck her.”

Is that what’s going on in his head? I reconcile the protection with how he raised me. Not letting me date. Making sure he or his brother is always around. Why is he so adamant?

Is this nothing more than a clumsy attempt to shield me? It sparks a mischievous idea and I play along with my uncle. “Rocky’s always been there to protect me when you can’t. We’ll be fine.”

“You are mine—my responsibility.” Bull’s face turns a shade redder as he stumbles on his words.

We’re at a standstill. Seconds pass like hours. Bull’s heavy breaths are the loudest sound in the room. It’s a battle of wills, and I’m caught in the middle.

The minutes turn into actual hours of silence. It becomes my mission to wait. It’s my only hope of carrying out my plan.

My phone dings from inside my purse. The men watch me get up, retrieve it, and read it.

Grandma:I made an appointment for a mani to pretty up those nails you’ve bitten to the quick.

Glancing at my nails, I curse the woman for calling me out. Why does it matter if I bite my nails? Why can’t she mind her own business? Why can’t she accept me the way I am?

I carry my phone back to my seat and patiently endure more silence.

Rocky appears surprisingly comfy in the bondage chair. His eyes grow heavy until he finally gives in to sleep in the wee hours of the morning. One down, but it’s the other one I need to fall asleep.

I grab my phone, turn the volume all of the way down, then pull up a porn site so I can watch how porn stars masturbate. That’s quite a lesson.

“What are you doing?” Bull asks.

“Passing the time.”

Eventually, Bull slides down the wall, sitting on the floor with a thud, and kicks his shoes and socks off. A while longer and his eyes close and his breathing evens out. Exhaustion finally claims him too.

This is my chance to slowly test the waters of whether I continue to believe I’m as undesirable as my father makes me think. Or if I should trust Rocky, Laz, and the way the men looked at me when I was on stage.

I silently pad to the curtain, keeping an eye on Bull and Rocky. The steady rise and fall of their chests confirms they’re zonked.

My heart hammers as I slowly draw the curtain back, exposing half of the viewing window. Within seconds, men and women gather. They want to see me. It’s as I suspected. They don’t share my father’s ugly duckling assessment.

They see the swan.

A thrill courses through me, a mix of fear and exhilaration. With every bit of stealth I can muster, I press a finger to my lips, making a ‘Shhh’ gesture to the onlookers.

Their eager gazes follow me as I move to the shelf of sex toys. I point at the smallest dildo, looking questioningly at the growing number of men gathering at the window.

Given the videos I just watched, this wouldn’t be the dildo they’d choose.

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