I want the cocks. I want the hard shafts plunging into me. I want the rough hands on my hips while a man sates himself inside me, talking to a business colleague about stocks and shares above me. Maybe he’s even forgotten what I look like by now, but it doesn’t matter because my cunt is warm and wet and fuckable, and he’s going to use me to get himself off, and if he doesn’t want me again, there will always be another guest who does. I lie awake at night, unable to sleep because I want to fuck so bloody much.
To start at the beginning, Chapter 1 of Tatiana’s Awakening is here.
(If you’re reading as I publish – I know Chapter 2 is out of order. I just realised I never posted it here. My apologies!)
Tatiana’s Awakening: Chapter 2
The last week has driven me over the edge because Guest 17 is here again. A low number like 17 means he’s pretty important — either super wealthy or a close friend of the Big Boss — but I haven’t been able to work out who he is.
I’ve got a stupid crush on him which is ridiculous because he shrieks dangerous and he’s an asshole as well.
He’s tall and dark-haired and handsome in a rough-but-wealthy biker kind of way. He’s in pretty good shape too. He’s strong and he clearly works out. Ever since the first time I saw him naked, I can’t get his tackle out of my head.
The man is hung like a horse. Even his voice — deep and rough, like a movie star — drives me over the edge.
Guest 17 visited the yacht in my first few weeks here. We were short-staffed and I made a stupid error in processing his luggage. I mixed his luggage up with another guest. This was a pretty big deal and I was lucky not to get sacked.
The men who come here value their privacy. They trust each other but only to the extent that they’re all in this together. Like, they’ll get naked and fuck the girls together, knowing that no-one is going to rat. But that doesn’t mean they trust each other with any other secrets.
I got called into the supervisor’s room and was told off in front of the guest. I had to stand there while the supervisor and the guest sat in their armchairs. The supervisor didn’t say I could sit down, so I stood feeling embarrassed and humiliated. The guest just sat there looking out the window, drinking a whiskey on ice, not even looking at me.
I was going white-faced and wondering desperately if I was about to get laid off before I had even really started. Hell, there were almost tears in my eyes — and I take care not to cry if I can help it — and the guest wasn’t even paying attention.
Then, when I thought the ordeal was finally over, the supervisor told me to ask the guest if there was anything I could do to make up for my mistake.
In case you hadn’t realised, I’m not great at humility. I’m not really the compliant sort.
But I can do it when I have to. I needed this job, so I took three deep breaths, pasted an insincere helpless look on my face, and told the guest how very sorry I was, and I said I would never make a mistake like that again. Prompted by a meaningful look from the supervisor, I asked the guest how I could personally make up to him for my mistake.
Asshole Guest 17 drank the last of his whiskey still without looking at me and turned to the supervisor.
‘Put her in my chambers for my stay. She can serve me while I’m here.’
His deep voice — the first time I heard it — ran shivers down my skin, even as my hackles rose in response to his words.
Providing service to the guests is not my job. The waitstaff make the guests’ food, and the men can get their own drinks or send the girls to make their drinks. I’m admin, I do admin work.
But the damn supervisor said yes. I had to follow after the guest back to his chambers, humiliated and hurting, ordered to serve him for the week. I walked through the corridors a pace behind him, knowing I was following at his heels like an obedient puppy and I couldn’t help it.
It was this or get fired and having to pay my own way back home.
I learned to hate him those couple of days. My first job was to turn down his bed and I didn’t do it right and he told me off, before standing over me while I did it to his satisfaction.
Then he went off to get dinner and whatever evening’s debauchery awaited him. I thought I was off the hook but he smiled at me nastily and told me to sit on an uncomfortable side chair until he returned.
I’m not sure if you’ve guessed but following rules doesn’t come naturally to me. Anyway, I didn’t see how he could possibly even know that I moved, so as soon as I was sure he was gone, I stood up and spent the evening lounging in the more comfortable chair. When I heard him returning, I moved back to the uncomfortable chair, doing my best to look innocent and submissive.
I should have realised by then about the surveillance system but I didn’t. So, of course, he knew that I hadn’t obeyed him.
He looked bored. ‘Stand up, Tats.’
I stood up, bridling in irritation. My name is Tatiana. No-one shortens me to Tats. No one, not even my brothers. Not since fifth grade. You can call me Tatiana, or Yana, or if you’re my friend and I super-like you, you can call me Annie. My grandmother used to call me Tati but she was special.
I flushed with anger but Guest 17 hadn’t stopped talking. ‘You don’t disobey me, Tats.’
I lost it. ‘Don’t call me Tats,’ I ground out through my teeth, my face flushing in anger. ‘Call me by my name.’
He walked up close to me then and I shivered because he was big and something about him exuded power, and he said just two words.
‘Sit down.’
I sat, without thinking. Right back on the uncomfortable chair. I felt like a naughty schoolgirl in the head teacher’s office. I hated it. While I was seated, he loomed over me, and I had to look up to avoid looking straight at his crotch.
‘OK. Tatiana. My mistake.’ He even pronounced my name correctly, and it possibly tells you more about me when I tell you that that made me dislike him even more. ‘I told you to sit on this chair until I returned, and you disobeyed me. You’re not going to disobey me again, are you, Tatiana?’
I was so angry I wanted to cry but I didn’t want to cry in front of him, so I was silent instead.
He spoke again, in that calm, clear, rational voice. ‘Say, “I will do what you tell me to do, Sir”.’
I blushed red hot and I wanted to scream at him but I knew I couldn’t lose this job. I couldn’t. So, I just mumbled the words out at him between tight lips and clenched teeth. It wasn’t my most gracious moment but he didn’t push me. He just sighed and moved away, speaking over his shoulder.
‘Get me a drink.’
Read Chapter 3 of ‘Tatiana’s Awakening’ here.
‘Tatiana’s Awakening’ is an 112-page erotic novel available on All These Roadworks and Smashwords.
© 2022 Pixie Isobella
Pixie Isobella 