Page 8 of Toxic B!tch
Me: Goodnight, Indigo. Sleep well!
With a smile, I head to my room. Stripping off my sweats, I climb under the blanket, the cool sheets meeting my skin, a comforting contrast to the warmth of the pizza still lingering in my stomach.
As I settle in, a sense of calm washes over me. The world outside fades, and for a moment, I’m just me—wrapped in the softness of my blankets, thoughts drifting to Indigo and our budding friendship. It’s strange how a few texts can fill the quiet spaces of my life, making me feel a little less lonely.
The glow of my phone still illuminates the room as I find myself wondering what tomorrow will bring, not just in terms of work but in my conversations with her. Eyes closed, I'm embraced by the coziness of my blanket as the thrilling sense of connection soothes me into a peaceful sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
INDIGO
“Tonight is the night... when Ramon gets a new pretty face!” I scream-sing in the shower. My heart races with excitement, each note punctuated by a wild giggle that echoes off the tile.
I can barely contain my glee as I think about the masterpiece I’m about to create. The thrill of it pulses through my veins. I can already see the look on Ramon’s face—the mix of terror and disbelief—as he realizes that beauty comes at a price. I want to hear him cry, to feel the desperation in his voice as I transform him.
This afternoon, on my ride home from the bike shop, I stumbled upon a new construction home. The moment I laid eyes on it, something clicked. It’s set in an open field, far from prying eyes, with nothing but bare bones—perfect for what I have in mind. No neighbors to interrupt the artistry. Just me and Ramon, and the sweet sound of his begging.
Stepping out of the shower, I pad to my dresser, completely naked and unashamed. I pull on a pink chrome pleather jumpsuit, the tightness wrapping around me like a lover’sembrace. Who needs panties or a bra? This jumpsuit shows every line, and evenI’mnot that crazy.
Back in the bathroom, I braid my hair, twisting the strands as I pin it atop my head, creating a crown for tonight’s queen. I swipe on a matching shade of lipstick and layer on mascara that makes my eyes pop. After slipping into some black flats that add a touch of elegance, I’m ready.
As I drive to Dodge Lane, my heart races. I’m taking a chance, hoping he will be here tonight again. Sure enough, as I pull into the parking lot, I spot him—the man of the hour, strolling toward the door, blissfully unaware of the danger that awaits him. My lips curl into a grin, excitement bubbling over. Tonight is going to be unforgettable.
My intuition is spot on. Ramon is a creature of habit, predictable as a clock ticking down to midnight. I just knew if he was inviting some nice lady here last night, this would be his chosen haunt. But tonight? Tonight is the last time he’ll ever show his face here—or anywhere else.
I park my bike, the engine humming to a stop as I swing my leg over and pull off my helmet, checking my hair for any flyaways. Strutting toward the door, I tug at my tits, lifting them just a bit, a daring little tease before I walk inside.
As soon as I step through the door, a haze of smoke envelops me. The gross smell of stale beer, a pungent reminder of how grateful I am to not work in a place like this. No holiday decorations in sight, just the usual dim lighting and sticky floors. This place couldn’t care less about Christmas cheer, and for that, I’m thankful. I glide up to the bar, positioning myself to have the perfect view of Ramon. I set my clutch down, waving the bartender over with a flirtatious grin, order a Wet Pussy, and set the night in motion.
I take a sip and gag at the taste, a shudder coursing through me. The peach schnapps is sickly sweet, and the cranberry justamplifies it. It’s gut rot in a glass, and I’d choose my Apple Crown any day over this sugary disaster. But I remind myself that the kind of woman Ramon likes doesn’t order whiskey. He’s hunting for an easy, giggly target, and tonight, I’m more than ready to play that part.
It doesn’t take long—just three drinks—before Ramon slides onto the stool next to me.
“This one’s on me,” he coos to the bartender, but his gaze is fixed on my tits, hungry and unyielding.
“Thanks!” I giggle, throwing a wink his way. “But that has to be my last one. I’m getting kinda drunk,” I add, a playful pout on my lips, knowing full well it’s all part of the game.
I can feel the warmth of his hand on my thigh, causing my stomach to roll. “We better make this one count then, huh, sugar?”
“What are you thinking, handsome?”
“I’m thinking we go back to my place after this round. I’ll show you a good time.”
With a smile, I playfully nibble on my bottom lip. “You should get a drink too, then. We need to cheer to the night.”
“You’re right.” He smirks. “Hey, barkeep!” His voice echoes across the crowded bar. “Get me a Malört on the rocks. Make it a double.”
Even his drink of choice is disgusting. Malört tastes like sweat and gasoline; only douchebags and weirdos enjoy it.
The bartender slides us our drinks, and Ramon hands him his card. He looks at me with a twinkle in his eyes and raises his glass in a toast. “To tonight and how you’re gonna look on my big dick.”
“Bold,” I husk. “I like that.”
We clink our glasses together, and I drink from mine. As I set my glass down on the bar, my hand accidentally grazes the sticky bar top, causing my cash to fall to the floor.
“I got you.” Ramon bends down and starts picking up the few singles I have left. Seizing the opportunity while his attention is elsewhere, I extract the small capsule hidden in my cleavage and sprinkle the powder into his glass.
He straightens, carefully placing my money back on the bar top, and I pick up his drink, pretending to savor its aroma. “Mmmm.”
