SOLD TO THE MAFIA QUEEN

****ASHLEY*****

I was in my office, sitting behind my desk operating my laptop, going through some ads I had put on several sites looking for a new girl to pimp out, but my mail box was empty. It was weird. Does this mean no girl wants to be pimped out? “Ugh!” I groaned, putting my hand on my face as I rested my back on my revolver chair. I heard a knock on my door. “Come in.” I said without looking at the person.

“It’s me, queen. Take a look at what I found.” My assistant Dave said, I looked up at him and saw two young girls in their early twenties looking at me. They were both wearing revealing clothes that showed a large amount of their boobs.

“What do you think about them, queen? They are the only qualified girls that clicked on your ad yesterday. I have been communicating with them ever since, so I set up an appointment for you to meet them today.” Dave said with a big grin, thinking I would praise him for what he had done. I sat up from my chair and fixed my eyes on the girl with dirty blonde hair. Her golden eyes were beautiful, I must say. I reached for her delicate face and held it in my hand.

“She is beautiful. I can only work with one.” I said. My eyes lingered on her beautiful body. I finished checking her out and spun her around.

“I will go with her.” I told Dave. He gave me a slight smile and turned to the other girl, who was burning with jealousy. Her face was already red, as if she wanted to fight me. “This is not fair! I was the one that arrived here first!” She exclaimed in a rude manner. I waved my hand at her, smiling, as Dave dragged her out.

“So… what’s your name?” I questioned.

“Melody,” she replied.

“Do you know how to give blowjobs? Or please a client?” I asked. She looked down, placing a finger in her mouth.

“I… don’t know…I am a virgin.” She replied.

“You are a v-virgin?” I stuttered. It was unbelievable. I can’t hire a virgin. It was like a slap in the face, and it made me cringe.

“Are you sure you wanna do this? You want to become a whore?” I asked in a polite tone. She moved closer to me and held my hand, looking into my eyes. There were signs of tears at the corner of her eyes.

“Yes, I want this. I really do.” She muttered. “Where are you, parents?” I asked. “I don’t have parents. I fend for myself. There is no one to support me. That’s why I need this job.” She said with her lips trembling. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was desperate.

“Okay, I will hire you, but first you need to lose your virginity.” I said and pulled my hand from her grip. My hands were already sweaty.

“I am ready.” She said, shaking her head continuously. I picked up my phone from the desk and called two of my male whores to come to my office.

“Be quick, boys.” I said and hung up, placing the phone back on the desk.

“Don’t worry, they are on their way. They will help you and teach you how to treat customers.” I said with a sly smile, and the guys walked into the room at a fast pace, like they were already nearby when I called. They were both average-looking guys with a good physique.

“Let’s go.” I said and led them out of the room. My heels were clacking against the floor as they followed behind me. We were on the top floor of my building. I halted in front of a room with a white door that had “Queen.” written on it. I opened the door with my keys and pushed it open, revealing the sunlit room that had a big screen TV at the center and a huge master bed. The décor was beautiful and it was painted with my favorite color. Red.

I moved out of the way for them to pass. They all entered the room. I stood by the door looking at them.

“I want her to be breathless and unable to walk when you guys come out of this room,” I said.

“Yes, Queen!” The guys chorused, that’s what they all call me, their queen, like come on! I am a fucking queen. I stepped out of the room and shut the door behind me. Dave was standing at the door with two phones in his hands. They were both ringing. I stared at the screen of my iPhone. One had my “Papa Queen.” On the screen, Ugh! What does that old man want? I have taken over his business. What does he want now?

My name is Ashley Barbie Gates. I am twenty-five years old. I am a pimp and the leader of a gangster group in Miami. I took over my father’s gangster business when I was just nineteen years old. Since then, my life has changed for the worse. I have become a sex addict and also a lover of money. I believe you can get whatever you want with money. You can have the world wrapped around your fingers just like I am now. The Queen of the Streets I have a boyfriend, although he is more like a puppet because I give him what he wants. He doesn’t care if I sleep around with other guys because I am the only reason he is living.

“My queen, are you listening to me?” Dave asked, jolting me out of my trance. He had been trying to get my attention for quite a while now.

“Yes, what’s the matter?” I asked.

“Your father is furious; he is sending a lot of texts and they are countless.” He said, staring at the phone that was beeping uncontrollably.

“Gosh, who taught this old man how to use a mobile phone? Why can’t he fucking leave me alone!” I groaned and took the phone from him and picked it up, walking down the hallway in the direction of my office as my assistant followed me. We were in my building, the biggest building in Miami that belongs to me. During the day, it belongs to me, and at night it is used as a hotel because I just love money.

I walked into my office again. The windows were wide open, letting the morning sun into my office. The whole place was sparkling, and I knew it had been cleaned. I loved the red interior design because it just screams me. I sat at my desk as I listened to what my father was saying.

“Okay, okay.” I muttered, although I hadn’t been paying attention to what he was saying.

“Are you even listening?” He questioned, raising his voice.

“Of course, dad,” I replied.

“So, what have I been saying, honey?” He asked.Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

“You said, um… that, you uh…” I muttered, trying to search my brain for the answer, but my brain failed me.

“Just like I thought you hadn’t been listening,” he said.

“I said, I don’t want you to send your mother money anymore.” He said, and my jaw dropped.

“Why, dad? But she is living alone, and jobs don’t pay that much these days.” I replied. my parents had divorced when I was seventeen, and they had been living in different houses, including me.

“I said stop sending her money and that’s final.” He said and hung up before I could speak.