WAYWARD BRATS Read Online Free Page A

you’re out by 4 am. There’s a set of twins I am planning to bid on and I’ll need the room.
    My body ached and stung and throbbed from the experiences the last few hours had heap upon it. But for once I felt sated.
    Come to think of it, I felt more in control being controlled than I ever had before. I hadn’t been at Sal’s Saloon for more than a few hours but I felt at home here.
    It was rather ironic that Ariana Trout, who so loved the limelight, found her true calling in the dark.

Fantasy Four: Banged and Shared by Six
    Sal’s Saloon was most definitely not the best place for me.
    I had to escape.
    I had enjoyed Sal’s hospitality for over two weeks now. Every night Kitty had her way with me, or another girl. Every night we were sold to the highest bidder and satisfied, his or her or their, particular fetish.
    I was one of Sal’s biggest money makers, a notorious nympho.
    I’m not going to lie, I had loved every instance of anal sex, bondage, lesbian sex, role play, and the devil knows what else I had been paid to enjoy, but now I was bored.
    Nothing was depraved enough anymore.
    I couldn’t get off.
    I haven’t cum in three days and I was sick of faking it.
    The titillation of being controlled had worn off. I needed to do those things to others, not have them done to me.
    I wanted to do these things to Father Marcus, but young exotic males were his bent. He had been in the audience again tonight, this time partaking of two men from Istanbul.
    I wanted a priest of my own, but the only ones to visit Sal’s were gay or didn’t bid on me.
    I had to escape and find some fun.
    I had no clothes, I hadn’t needed any until now. My dress was too ruined to wear, so I had pilfered a shirt and a pair of trousers and stashed them behind the kitchen door.
    I just had to get to them.
    My chance came when Pastor Lyn from Christian Center for Homeless Young Men broke the arm of her latest purchase.
    I ducked into the kitchen, clambered into my stolen clothes and ran down the street. The too large pants slipped down and tripped me up with each step. Crouched behind a row of trashcans I re-rolled them for the fourth time and used a garbage bag tie to hold them up, watching the road for pursuit.
    The neon-infested street was empty so close to dawn and no one came from the direction of Sal’s.
    I ran in a crouch, laying down on the pavement whenever a car passed, but it seemed, I was free. The shirt hung to my knees, and all I could hope was that anyone who saw me would dismiss me as a meth head or coked-up hooker.
    I turned down random streets, thinking of escape and not where I was going or what I would do when I got there.
    At least, Sal had taught me a nineteen-year-old girl could make some serious money on her back.
    The last choice petered out into a dead end. I spun around to go back the way I had come and crashed into a group of men.
    They weren't small either.
    “You’re one of Sal’s.” One caught me by the arm and dragged me under a streetlamp.
    Lust slithered down my spine.
    I knew this man, Rhett Stone, Charlotte Stone’s great-great grandson or something. Sal had banned him from the Saloon but no one knew why.
    “I know her. She is!” another said climbing a set of steps, he unlocked a door. “Let’s bring her inside. Find out what she's about. Maybe we can use her to get back at Sal.”
    Rhett hauled me up the stairs by the collar and shoved me into the hall.
    “There’s no need to be rough!” I clawed at his face but he grabbed both my wrists in one of his and pushed me against the wall.
    “Be still, Ariana,” he said.
    I blew the hair out of my face. “I am not trying to escape so don’t treat me like I am. How do you know my name?”
    “I heard she likes it all.” This next man set a crate of beer on the side table. “She’s a Reactive.”
    “Submissive,” Rhett corrected. He shoved me further down the hall and leaned against the wall, his black jeans and shirt clung to his well-muscled