Down Bad In Dayton Ch 01

I'm going to apologize to those of you who read the prelude, and were confused af. I was trying to give you the mind movie of a flash of memory that happens in a movie, a television show, or one of those extended 'artisitic' movie videos of a bit of the backstory.

I promise that as the story progresses, all elements will unveil themselves.

Thank you for your feedback, no matter the level of how constructive it was.

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Mood: The Hills by The Weeknd

Sean blasted down the highway, the engine of the Monte Carlo SS roaring as it ate up the highway. It was 4:17 in the morning, and he was halfway to shit-faced, but well beyond buzzed. He didn't know where he was going, but knew where he'd been, and in his mind it was wrong. He had to get out of there before he did something bad to Angela.

His cell phone rang, and the caller ID told him it was Eric. Obviously, she had called her brother, his former business partner, and now he was calling to check on Sean. After the third ring, Sean hit the button that would let the phone be piped over the speakers through its bluetooth connection with the stereo system.

"Shaw--" came Eric's sleep clotted voice. Sean cut him off before he could continue.

"Your whore of a sister has been cheating, bruh." Sean spat.

"Watch your lang--"

"Oh. Yeah. Slut. My bad. Whores get paid to fuck."

"Fuck you dude!" The phone disconnected. Sean only grunted, feeling a bit of joy at the small victory.

He glanced at the speedometer, and the needle was buried at 115, so he let off the throttle. It took a few seconds, but the car slowed to a reasonable rate of speed, and he just cruised as he got lost in his thoughts.

***

Sean and Angela had been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, but he was still having issues with trust. At least, that's what Angela was telling herself as she sat across the table from him. She was dressed in a pair of stretch pants and a crop top that showed off all of her assets, as she had just come from the gym where she'd ran into him.

Sean was dressed in a pair of athletic shorts and a tank top that showed off his arms and his solid build. He chewed on a forkful of the salad that sat in front of him which was loaded with all of the post work-out protein he could guiltlessly eat: eggs, ham, cheese, and pickles.

"Well?" Angela asked.

"Well what?" Sean asked back once he swallowed. "You already know my position.Until you can guarantee you don't want anyone or anything else, we aren't going to be official."

Angela's caramel complexion flushed to a slight backcast of burgundy.

"So, what are we then?"

"Friends. With Benefits." He replied.

"And what if I told you I was pregnant?"

"Are you?"

She shook her head after a moment, and sighed. "No."

Sean smacked his lips together, and pushed his plate away. "Thanks for fucking up my lunch." His tone was flat.

"Whatta you--"

"You literally can't say you don't want anyone or anything else, but you want me to commit. You play games with shit that changes circumstances." He stood and turned to walk toward the register with his bill, saying back over his shoulder.

"You're a dumbass."

Angela had just sat there dumbfounded, while those nearby looked between her and the door.

***

Angela screeched into the driveway of her apartment an hour later, what little make-up she was wearing was smudged from the tears she had shed in the car. But she had decided she was going to make Sean pay.

"Call me a dumbass, will you?" She slammed the door of her car as she made her way up the sidewalk to her half of the double. Letting herself in the door, she stripped off and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. On the way, she tapped out a message to her 'Girls Night' group chat, telling them to meet her at The Block.

Of course as she showered, her phone dinged incessantly with notifications from her chat where her friends Sasha, Trina and Nicole were chattering back and forth about what they were wearing and hoping to land. Namely, one of the 'ballers' that sat upstairs in one of the VIP suites that were marked 'Solitary'.

Angela got out of the shower, and made her way into her room. Dropping her towel, she slid on a purple thong. Then, after going through her closet, she settled on a snow white mini skirt and a matching tube top. The Fuck Me heels that she picked were the same shade of purple as her thong, which peeked out above the waist of her skirt. She then set about the task of doing her make-up -- minimal, and meant to accent -- before finishing off with her hair. Two hours later, she looked like the maneater she had decided to be that night.

Heading outside, she got into her car -- a black Toyota Camry -- and pulled out so that she could drive across the city to meet up with her friends for some mexican. Each of them had nachos and margaritas, while alternating between talking about how stupid men were, and how much they were looking forward to landing a baller that night.

While Dayton wasn't an epicenter of celebrity or commerce like Hollywood, for a city its size, it had some relatively wealthy people. Add to that the fact that it was a manufacturing center that had midwestern working values, and you had a combination for success. The fact that it was on the leading edge of the computer age meant that it held the seeds for future prosperity and economic survival.

After their nachos and margaritas, they all loaded up into Angela's car, and made their way to The Strip, a collection of bars, clubs, and adult entertainment on the edge of the city. Pulling into the parking lot of The Block, they made their way to the front door, and the bouncer let them slide in.

R&B throbbed through the speakers so loud that the bass stole the breath of the girls as they passed through the metal detector, which gave its visual alert. The guards used their wands on all 4 girls, and then let them pass once their purses were searched, as their scanty outfits couldn't hide a weapon.

They could taste the sweat and arousal in the air as bodies grinded together on the dance floor, the group barely making their way through the press of bodies as they made their way toward the bar. They continued with the margaritas, though each of them took a shot of patron to go with it. Soon enough they were out on the floor, each of them paired up with a guy, holding their drinks above their heads as they danced.

By the third song, Trina had finally gotten Angela's attention, and pointed toward the tinted windows of Solitary. A backlit silhouette stood there, with a drink in hand, looking down at the crowd below him. A moment later, he was joined by two women that pressed themselves against him, and stayed there. One of them eventually reached up, and pulled his face toward her so that they could kiss, and Angela could make out his hand moving to knead her full ass cheek.

She felt a hand grab her wrist, and looked back down to see that Sasha had a hold of her, and Trina was tugging them toward the staircase that led up to the VIP section. They stood at the bottom, staring up at the camera, waiting to see if they would be buzzed up within the 10 second limit.

Trina, short for Katrina, was short and slender. Almost too short. Her breasts were small, as was her ass, but the leather corset and skirt put everything she had on display nicely. She had her curly brown hair done up in a ponytail.

1...

2...

3...

Sasha was nordic, in every sense of the word. Tall and blonde, her breasts were large and barely contained by the peasant blouse she wore over the tight purple suede jeans that hugged her fat ass and thick thighs.

4...

5...

6...

Nicole stood there fidgeting. She was insecure in her averageness, and as such, she wore a little red dress to match her natural ginger hair, to make her girl next door appeal go bad. As a testament to her insecurity, she had worn no bra or panties.

7...

8...

9...

It wasn't until the counter hit 9 that the light went green, and the door unlocked with a thud of electronically controlled lock.

The quartet all let out a collective squeal as they pushed through the door, and started their way up the stairs. As soon as Trina reached the top, she stopped in place, causing an accordion effect to happen amongst her friends behind her.

"Move, bitch!" came the slightly slurred speech of Nicole.

"Yes. Move." Sasha said after she giggled.

"Um.. guys?" Trina said, sounding uncertain.

"Just go, Trina!" Angela commanded impatiently. "Damn."

Trina looked down to Angela, and then after a moment, she shrugged and pressed in.

Once Angela reached the top of the stairs, she froze as soon as she saw who it was, and what they were doing.

It was rumored that you could do whatever you wanted to in Solitary: Drugs, escorts, and even fucking. They didn't care, as the room was rented out for 1000 dollars an hour. It had a state of the art sound system, and direct access to the DJ.

"What the fuck are you doing here Sean?" Angela interrogated him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? Enjoying myself." He nodded to Angela's friends, the two girls still pressing themselves against him. It was only then that Angela recognized one of them as her sister, Monica, and the other as her cousin, Felicia.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" She screamed. "I'm about to --"

"You aren't about to do shit," Sean said evenly, "except for maybe marching your dumb ass down those stairs and through The Gate."

The air was suddenly sucked out of the room as Angela and Sean squared off.

"YOU CAN'T --" Angela started.

"I can." Sean replied.

"YOU WON'T --" Angela started again.

"I have." Sean responded with finality. "I'm done with the games, Angela. I'm going to enjoy myself."

"But that's my sister, Sean." Angela was losing steam.

"She's legal, and she called me and told me that she wanted to go out. Suggested I rent out Solitary."

Sasha was looking around, and finally caught sight of the table. "Is that powder?"

"Is that coke?" Angela looked at the table, then back to Sean, who was still kneading Monica's butt. "And stop playing with my sister's ass!"

"Ok." Sean said, before he smacked it, causing Monica to jump and her full rump to jiggle beneath the spandex of her skin tight dress. "Get me a drink." Monica stepped away and headed to the bar, the tender going back to work from staring at the scene.

"Look. You can't --" Angela started again, and Sean held his now free hand up.

"We were already here. I can, and am, doing what the fuck I want. Even if that's with your sister." He paused for a moment, most likely for dramatic effect, though it may have been to collect his thoughts before he continued.

"You see, we're not in a relationship. And before you start backpedaling? I don't want one until this weekend is over, if then."

Angela's eyes were misty with anger and frustration. She had caused this with her stupid games, and she knew Sean would make her pay. He had made Linda pay as well, and she had helped him.

Sean nodded, seeing the realization in her face that she had stepped on a landmine, and looked toward the other three women that had accompanied Angela. He gestured toward the bar, and the smoked glass table top, where thick lines of white powder were laid out along the edge.

"Help yourselves if you plan on getting fucked tonight. Otherwise, you can leave with her." He gestured toward Angela as Monica made her way back to him with his glass of 151 and coke. Angela knew that's what it was, because it was all he drank. With his words, security moved toward Angela, but she protested.

"I'm staying too." Her voice was strained as she tried to keep her emotions under control. With her announcement, Sean gestured toward the table, and after staring at it a moment, she moved over and looked at her friends. They seemed to be hesitating because of her. Sean fit the definition of a baller. He'd recently sold a video game to a company out in Silicon Valley. He was now being rushed, as were his friends, by other game studios.

Angela sat down on the edge of one of the overstuffed chairs, picked up the rolled hundred dollar bill, and leaned forward. Pinching her nostril off after shoving the tube up the other, she snorted up a good little bump. The effects of it lit her up in under a minute. She'd only done cocaine with her ex, Derrick, and nothing that was ever this pure. She could feel the mucus build up, and snorted it down, swallowing it. The other 3 girls eventually followed suit, and then they all got refills on their margaritas.

Sean had the DJ play some gangsta love rap, so that Monica and Felicia could take turns grinding up against him. Soon enough, Angela and her friends were paired off, dancing with each other, competing for Sean's attention. Someone - most likely Sasha - broke out some ecstasy, and everyone had some.

The next thing that Angela knew, she was in the middle of a pile of female flesh on the floor. Her wrists were bound by straps, her arms stretched behind her so tightly that her shoulders burned, and she could feel Sean pounding in and out of her cunt.

"Godgodgodgod! Cum for me Sean!" She cried out. "Fill me up!" she demanded, just before Sasha grabbed her hair and forced Angela's mouth back onto her snatch. Looking to either side, she could see her sister and cousin being serviced by Trina and Nicole, while getting ramrodded by security.

It all became a blur as Angela felt Sean seat his thick, hard shaft inside of her, and pump a load of cum directly into her, her own orgasm taking hold of her and short circuiting her brain. Everything went dark.

Angela woke up feeling like hell, but felt a warm body laying against her. She rolled over to give Sean a kiss, but halted as she realized that it was Sasha that was spooned up against her. Flashes of the previous night invaded her mind, and she felt her stomach flip, barely making it to the bathroom before she lost her lunch.

When she looked at the clock, she realized it was 5 in the evening, and that Sean wasn't in her friend's apartment. She checked her phone, and opened up Snapchat, only to find a dozen videos of each of her friends begging to be used by Sean, after he had taken care of Monica and then Felicia. He wasn't wearing a condom in any of the clips.

Bitch!

It was the only response Angela could think of to send to her younger sister. Where Angela was thick all over, Monica was only thick in the TnA section, and had a slender waist that accentuated both of those attributes. As a response, Angela got a video of Monica riding Sean hard and hot, promising to be only his slut forever as he came inside of her.

Angela rushed to the restroom and puked once again, this time from her nerves. Once she was done, she immediately called Sean, and her sister picked up.

"Let me talk to my boyfriend, bitch." Angela hissed.

"You've got 24 hours before you can even think of calling him that, slut." her sister shot back at her.

"Let me talk to Sean so that I can tell him how you are going to baby trap him."

"He already knows, and he wants it. Don't you feel stupid?"

"LET ME TALK TO SEAN!" Angela screeched into the phone, startling Sasha awake. She could hear her sister laugh as Monica passed the phone to Sean.

"Yellow?" came Sean's voice. It held that quality of post fucking huskiness that came from too much effort.

"Are you seriously trying to get my sister knocked up?" Angela said tensely as Sasha scooted away from her.

"Uh... yeah?" His response said she was stupid if she thought otherwise.

"Why?"

"It's my kink, and I have enough money." He paused and gasped, groaning into the phone. "How-However, I was trying to get all of your friends pregnant. Though any of the Three Slutsketeers turn up pregnant, I'm gonna demand a test if they try to lay it at my feet."

Angela could figure out why, as memories of her friends getting railed by not only Sean, but the male members of the Solitary staff flashed into her mind. The only who hadn't was Sasha, and Angela pinned her friend with her gaze as she spoke.

"What about Sasha? She didn't fuck anyone but you."

"Wuh-- well," she could hear him straining against the force of Monica, who was either fucking or sucking him while he conversed. "She knew what it was, and went for it. Take that up with her." The three beeps of a call ending then sounded in her ear.

Angela felt her stomach flip flop again, and while she was hugging the porcelain god, she realized she had to get ahead of this before it was too late.