and most coveted fantasies. He soon found he was not alone in his proclivities. He was like a child locked away in a candy shop. There were plenty of freaks just like him, and best of all, he didn’t have to tell anyone who he truly was. No identification required. Then, something else happened…
The owner pulled him aside and said, “We’re getting back to back requests for you. You can no longer remain just a member. We want to hire you on our team. But most importantly, you must share with me, Nixon, what in the fuck are you doing to these women?!”
Well, he was doing what he always did: giving ladies what they wanted most of all, what they needed. More times than not, they longed for a man to take charge. To walk the walk, talk the talk, while making sure they felt safe at the same time. It was a complicated balance of mind fucks, seduction, and using the right words at the right time. The intent was to demolish their preconceived notions of what should happen in the bedroom.
He could read women as if their bodies were wide open books, the pages blank to the naked eye, but he could see every damn word.
Blank books. That’s when another idea came to him… That was the true symbol of a woman. The covers were all different, the pages thick and the scent heady and addictive, but every chapter was written in blood, sweat, and tears. There was no way to not get wet. In order to experience the pinnacle of pleasure, one had to immerse oneself in the valley of pain. So he became Raze behind those red, black, and gold walls.
He could get inside women’s thoughts, pluck out their anxieties and make them face the music, teach them to turn those fears into their footstool and fuck it to death. Women were definitely the blank books, keeping themselves in bondage with invisible handcuffs created from societal standards, traditions, and constructed morals that were not fit for them.
It hadn’t always been this way, this awareness he had. At first he never understood why they’d choose him over others to pour out their hearts to. To cry, laugh, spill their guts with. They’d share private details within minutes of meeting him. This was no doubt part of the reason why he was such a damn good attorney. If anyone in that courtroom was a woman, be it the judge, the insurance company rep, plaintiff or defendant, he already had the upper hand as soon as he stepped onto the scene.
Women have been problematic, too. They’ve caused me distress. But I fuckin’ love ’em… They’ve always been around me. From the top to the bottom. Blood in, blood out. Yeah… family.
Perhaps he understood how to manipulate a woman since he had a couple of sisters who cried all the time? Maybe it was because his mother was so open and free-spirited? His father a well-known former ladies’ man? Or maybe it was simply because he enjoyed sex so much that he felt it crucial to please his partner, even if he only planned to be with her for one night. Whatever the reason, there was a type of woman he seemed to gravitate towards, and it was a guilty pleasure…
He liked them confident, a little stuck-up, a bit uptight.
Resilient. A secret desire to be dominated and dropped to their knees was a necessity. Sexually curious women. Intelligent women. Go-getters. Cerebral. Fun. Women with inner freaks behind a beautiful smile and business suit. A good sense of humor. Feminine. Women who desired to have their bodies, souls, and minds explored, fucked and sucked. Women who let him do what he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted. He needed full control in the bedroom and the boardroom at all times.
Queen in the streets, freak in the sheets…
But true Queens wanted something he never offered. Real love. Love costs too fucking much. It’s the one thing I can’t afford.
He smashed his joint in the ashtray on the nightstand and sat up, thinking about what he’d get into for the day.
I need a vacation. Not a day or two here and there but a real one. My mother has been complaining, saying I work too hard. My sisters and brother are tired of me not seeing my nieces and nephews. My father says I never come to Rhode Island anymore to visit him, always blaming it on work. My ex-girlfriend said