Page 36 of Tainted Princess
I had never owned an outfit like that in my life, and to be honest, I was kind of jealous. Not that I’d ever admit it; I had been wearing clothes like these since I turned sixteen. Conservative and presentable. That’s what was expected of me and that’s what I always delivered.
Clearly, that was not the vibe here at all. After I had been sitting in the lobby for about ten minutes, flipping idly through one of several issues ofCosmomagazine scattered around, the front door opened, bringing in two young women, both dressed similarly to Mindy. With their short skirts, crop tops, and dangerously high heels, they looked like they were headed to a club, not out early on a Monday morning. I watched, intrigued, as they waved to Mindy on their way past the desk before they opened the frosted glass doors and disappeared in the same direction Enzo had.
A few minutes later, another woman entered. She, too, was dressed to the nines, with her hair and make-up on point, her dress so tight I could count her ribs, and her heels clacking across the concrete floor of the lobby. She didn’t hesitate to follow the other two through the glass doors either.
Over the next twenty minutes, I watched at least a half dozen more girls enter, dressed in varying shades of the same theme, and head to the doors behind the desk.
My curiosity was piqued. Getting up, I sauntered over to the reception desk, trying to look as meek and useless as possible.
“Hey, Mandy?” I asked sweetly, drawing her attention as I approached.
“It’s Mindy,” she snarled. Yikes, sensitive much?
“Oh, I am so sorry,” I lied. This bitch’s name was not on my list of things to give a shit about today. “I was just wondering if you could maybe get me a coffee? Enzo and I didn’t have time to make any before we left the house this morning.”
I stifled my laugh as her eyes widened, her shock at what I was implying clearly evident as she once again swept over my outfit. When she didn’t move, I pressed further. “Black, two sugar. Thanks so much, Cindy.”
Gritting her teeth, she ignored my barb and strode to the table at the far end of the lobby, her back to me as she fussed with the coffee machine there.
As soon as her back was turned, I ducked behind the desk and through the glass doors, darting to the left of the wall directly behind them that was designed to block the view from the lobby.
Rounding the corner, I drew up short, my mouth open as I gaped at the room before me.
Holy fucking shit.
Porn.
Like, so much porn.
I froze as I glanced around the warehouse, not quite sure if what I was seeing was real. The walls and ceiling were all painted black, and the vast space was divided into dozens of cubicles, arranged into neat rows, each of those lit up with bright lights. Not wanting to be busted by Mindy, I hurriedly moved farther into the warehouse, my eyes wide as I passed the first few cubicles.
Each was done up differently, the spaces decorated into different scenes with varying themes. There were several bedrooms, the furnishings all very feminine, with ruffles and lace in pinks and whites. There was a kitchen, a library, and one that looked like the kind of office a CEO would work in. Some were decorated like school rooms, with a black board and a teacher’s desk, while others were just random collections of furniture. As I passed by the cubicles, several of the girls I had seen in the lobby were there, dressed in even less than they had been, and it was then that I noticed the cameras.
In front of each of the cubicles was a tripod of sorts, with a small video camera mounted on top, pointing at the girl in the room, recording what she was doing.
And, oh lordy, the things that they were doing.
I knew what porn was on an academic level, but it had never really been something I had the time or the inclination for in my life. But I could see now that I was woefully uninformed as to the types of things people were using the internet for these days.
Wandering slowly, but trying to still be inconspicuous, I made my way between the rows, marveling at the sheer creativity of these women. And, really, you had to hand it to them.
If there was one universal truth in the world, it was that sex sells. So, what better way to make use of that fact than by selling sex from a safe and secure location where you could accomplish your goal and not have to worry about being touched.
Honestly, it was genius.
Right in the middle of the whole space was a large desk filled with computers and cables and electronics of all kinds. It looked more like a mixing station in a recording studio than anything you’d see in a business office. Sitting behind the desk, working over several keyboards like a maestro, was the most outrageous woman I had ever seen.
She was slim, and as I approached, I could see that her long legs, tucked up on her chair in what appeared to be a yoga pose, were encased in some fishnet stockings under what looked like leather short shorts.
She had neon blue hair that was up in two messy buns on her head, one of which was stuck through with a red pen. Her eyes were outlined in black, with matching metallic blue eyeshadow and vivid red lips. She wore a Guns N’ Roses tank top, stylishly distressed in all the right places and cropped so I could see her pierced belly button.
She had a sucker in her mouth and her head bobbed along with whatever music was playing in her over-sized headphones.
I knew right away that this was the woman I needed to talk to.
Marching down the aisle between the rows of cubicles, pausing only for a second when I noticed one woman doing something extremely interesting with a cucumber, I stopped in front of the messy desk and waited, smiling when she finally noticed me.
She eyed me up and down, then grinned. Lowering her headphones to her neck, I could hear the loud notes of rock music blaring out of them when she removed the sucker from her mouth and laughed, leaning back in her chair and propping her legs up on the desk in front of her.
