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Plaything by November Sweets

Read Online Plaything by November Sweets Romance Book

Overview: Life is hard when you are on the run.
Just trying to survive and start a new life on my own was almost impossible.
Until one night a shadow scared me into a building,
a building that would change my life forever.
Six months at Seduction House and I am finally ready for the auction.
Tonight is the night that I sell myself to a stranger.
I’m more ready than words can say,
one night as their Plaything and I am flush with cash for the next 3 months.
Sounds like a great deal to me.
But my night in the spotlight doesn’t go quite as planned,
and instead of one man and one night,
I’m sold to four men for a month.
Jack, Vince, Arlo, & Dimitri,
four friends that know what they want and aren’t afraid to pay for it.
The only problem is my heart and my body agree we want more than meaningless sex with the four men that bought us, but the past has a way of sneaking up on you and ripping all your hopes and dreams away.
I’m willing to fight for love or die trying.
I just don’t know if these four men will fight with me.


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Plaything by November Sweets

Read Online Plaything by November Sweets Book Chapter One

Three Years Later


“Hey there, sweet thang. Why don’t you let me give you a ride and then you can give me one?” the creep calls out from the window of his car.

This was something that I had gotten used to suffering through over the last three years. Anytime I would walk down the street at night, some idiot would roll up and sling disgusting lines at me, making my skin crawl.

As long as I ignored them they would get tired, eventually call me a “stuck up bitch” and drive away. If I engaged, that's when things went bad, and I ended up having to run for my life. I had gotten really good at running over the years.

“Come on baby, I’ll show you how a real man can fuck that sweet cunt of yours,” he continues as I keep walking down the sidewalk. It’s late so there aren’t any other cars on the street, which means this asshole can slowly drive next to me and not bother a soul. Except for me of course.

Must have drawn the short straw tonight.

There were only so many lines and gross shit that I could hear on a daily basis before I just lost it and told them how I really felt. Today was one of those days.

“Dude, with the tiny prick you probably have in your pants, you can’t even please the fucking fleas you have,” I say before flipping him the bird and walking faster.

A car door shuts behind me and the creep curses under his breath signaling me that things are about to take a turn.

Fuck, I’m in trouble.

My heart rate picks up knowing that the man could be a threat, but I don’t feel fear from it, though I probably should have.

“Hey, get back here bitch and I’ll show you a tiny prick!” he shouts, and I can’t help but chuckle, because he has no idea what he just implied with his comment.

“No thanks, I would like to keep my dinner in my stomach,” I say, flipping him off once again and then taking off in a dead run.

Luckily I’m only a block away from the shitty one bedroom that I rent. Douche canoe won’t be able to follow me once I get inside, because it’s like a maze. I don’t know who designed the building, but it was like they were high on meth when they did it. The apartments were odd shapes, some long and skinny and some short and fat. Somehow it all worked, just made the floors weird and the doors in odd places.

I loved it there even if the landlord was a slumlord. If you had something broken in your apartment, good fucking luck getting it fixed. Youtube became my best friend for home improvements over the last two years, not that I could make many on my waitressing wage, but I could fix the small things that kept my life normalish. Not that anything had been normal since that night.

I spent the first year after I left being homeless. Sleeping in shelters until I found out they weren’t any safer than sleeping on the streets, especially for a young woman like myself. My things were stolen, my food was drugged, and that night I don’t remember still haunts me. Thinking about it now makes me want to throw up, but I survived and that’s more than I can say for most.

That is all I had to do. I had to survive. It didn’t matter the horrible shit that happened along the way, as long as I got up and kept going when it was over.

After the first year I finally got a night job cleaning toilets in an office building. It was safer to sleep during the day and work at night, even if I was sleeping in one of the closets in the basement. When they found out I was crashing there I was let go, but luckily I had saved up enough money to rent my current apartment. It was like moving into a palace. A palace that smelled like mothballs and mold but still, it was safe and it had a lock.

Which if I could just get behind right now, I would be fine. The sound of pounding feet behind me makes me pick up my pace. This guy was not giving up as fast as the others usually did. Normally I would take off running, and once they saw how fast I was they gave up the chase pretty quick. Maybe this guy really did have a micro penis, and he didn’t like me pointing it out?

Chancing a look over my shoulder, I can see he is red in the face. I’m not sure if it is from the rage at my words or the effort to try and catch me. He hasn’t yelled anything at me in a while so I’m going to hope it’s from the effort. With that in mind, instead of going in the front door of my place, I continue on around the block. The breathing behind me increases, and the sound of the footsteps slows. By the time I reach the back of the building, both sounds have disappeared altogether.

Finally.

Lucky for me the back door lock is broken. Running up to the door, I throw it open and hurry inside, closing it firmly behind me. Taking a second, I get my own breathing under control before peeking out one of the small windows on the sides of the door. I can see Creepy is out there, but I can’t hear what he is saying. I imagine he is cursing a blue streak as he leans his forearms on his legs and tries to catch his breath.

Another successful walk home from work.

Chuckling to myself, I head up the backstairs to the second floor where my apartment is. This floor is filled with the one bedroom short fat apartments, surprisingly a lot of old people are on my floor. But the elevator is the one thing that is always up and running. The slumlord doesn’t want to have to climb all the stairs himself if he has to come get your rent. That, and he gets a discount from the state on taxes for having so many senior citizens in his building. Or the owner does, I’m not sure how that works really.

Walking by the apartment next door to mine I give a little wave to Mrs. Gally. For some reason that old woman only closes her door when she is sleeping. I asked her about it once and she just shrugged. Guess when you hit a certain age you do what you want, and don’t give a fuck what other people think. I respect that. Mrs. Gally was goals. Plus the woman could bake like no tomorrow, and I was lucky enough she liked me. Helped me gain some weight after being underfed living on the streets.

When I finally make it inside my apartment, I flip the lock and put on the chain that I had added, and can breathe fully again. I was in my safe space, or at least it was the safest space I’d had in years even going back before I ran away three years ago. It might not look like much to most people, but I loved the small place and it was mine more than anything else in a long time.

From the second hand couch that was ugly as fuck with its orange and red plaid pattern to the queen double high air mattress I used as a bed. I worked hard and I earned everything that I own, and it felt pretty damn good.

The walls were bare prison white, and I didn’t have any knickknacks lying around. It probably looked like I had just moved in, but I was more than settled with the little that I had. I didn’t have a TV or anything like that, if I had to leave at a moment's notice, I needed things that I could be mobile with.

So far I had gotten lucky and I hadn’t had any run ins with my past mistakes, but I wasn’t holding my breath on that lasting forever. Of course it helped that I didn’t look a lot like my old self either. My once blonde hair was now dyed a dark brown that made my blue eyes pop, but that wasn’t the only thing that had changed. I had filled out like a woman in the last couple years, still a little thin, but my tits and ass were well rounded anyway. There is probably no one from my old life that would recognize me now.

There were still times when I would look over my shoulder, feeling like someone was watching me, but whenever I looked, no one was ever there. So as much as I wanted to just relax and settle into life, I never completely felt comfortable.

As if at any minute it could magically all be taken away. I don’t regret what I had to do that night, even all these years later. With all the things I have been through, I still wouldn’t turn back the clock and change what happened. I would rather relive it all over, and endure the nightmares and flashbacks, than ever be under that man’s thumb again.

Sighing, I take off my backpack that has my uniform in it, and let it drop to the wood floor next to the couch. I learned really quickly that it was a lot safer and easier to take a change of clothes to work and save on laundry. As gross as it sounds I try to get at least three shifts out of each uniform. Mrs. Gally lets me use the washer and dryer her kids put in her apartment, but I didn’t want to abuse her kindness.

Kicking off my shoes and laying my jacket over the back of the couch, I sigh in relief for my feet finally being free. Waitressing is a lot of long hours, and all of them are spent on your feet. The diner I work at isn’t real good about state mandated breaks, in fact, they don’t give a fuck, and you were lucky if you got to pee once a shift.

Big Daddy’s Diner “Home of the famous foot long wiener” was the best I could find that paid cash. I hadn’t used my real name in years, and my new name didn’t come with documents, so I could only work jobs that paid under the table.

Having to be paid in cash meant I didn’t have to worry about taxes, but it also meant that I made less than everyone around me. For me it was worth it to stay under the radar. Another reason why I liked this place was that the slumlord took cash, and if I put a little extra in there, he ignored the fact that I didn’t fill out any official paperwork. If I ever needed proof that money runs the world, all I have to do is look at what I can get away with, with just the little money that I have.

I was lucky tonight, the cook had a plate in the back with a sandwich someone sent back so I got to eat before I came home. That meant I didn’t have to cook or eat cereal after working my shift this evening. I would take that as a win, especially when wins were a rare treat for me.

Walking into the small bathroom attached to the bedroom, I strip off my clothes that are now sweaty from tonight's little run around the block, and toss them off to the side. There was no way I was going to be able to wear those again without gagging.

Getting into a nice hot shower after a long day is like a religious experience. My muscles relax for the first few minutes, because after that the hot water doesn’t last very long. Still, I feel at peace. My life now is way better than it was when I was trapped by him, even if there were times when I’d find myself feeling lonely. I couldn’t afford to get close to anyone, for fear they might find out Jane is a fraud.

I’ve had a few one night stands over the years, because I had an itch to scratch, I’m not a virgin. Nor am I a nun. In those short moments I felt connected to another person, but all too soon that feeling would fade, and I would be left once again missing it. This is what I signed up for that night though, keeping everyone at arm's length for the rest of my life so that I could survive. I guess it wasn’t so bad when I thought about it that way.

As I get out of my quick shower, my phone rings from inside my backpack. It was really my only life line at this point, it was a cheap pay as you go smartphone, but I could watch videos online for entertainment, or find free ebooks to read. Because I did everything in cash, I didn’t have a bank or debit card to buy anything online. I had thought about doing a prepaid card but I just didn’t want the hassle, plus paying cash for everything helped me stay off the grid.

Wrapping my one and only towel around myself, I hurry out to grab my phone from my bag. It was strange that anyone would be calling me this late, but it could just be another waitress wanting me to cover her shift. That actually happened quite often. I was the poor girl desperate for cash, I pretty much took any shift I could get my hands on. Plus I didn’t have anything else going on, no friends, no family and no real hobbies. Work sucked but it kept me busy.

“Hello,” I say, finally finding it in the bottom of the bag.

“Hey Jane, it’s Joe,” the Slum Lord responds, the sound of his voice alone making my stomach drop. There was no way that this was going to be a good call.

“What can I do for you, Joe?” I ask, already preparing myself for the worst.

“I got some bad news, kid, the owner found out about our cash deal, and well, you have to be out of the apartment in two days unless you can provide all the proper paperwork. I’m sorry, there was nothing that I could do about it,” he says and it actually does sound like he feels bad about kicking me to the curb with only two days' notice. It’s probably because he was pocketing the extra money that I put with the rent each month.

“I’ll figure it out,” I say, hanging up the phone.

Plopping down on the sofa, I put my head in my hands and sigh in frustration. Just like that my safe haven was gone and I only had two fucking days to find somewhere to live or be back out on the streets.

Fuck.

What was I going to do now?

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