Part VIII Character Refresher:
- Josh's Girls
o Allison: Head of the household.
o Callie: Charles' daughter.
o Emma: NaΓ―ve redhead who is happy to go along with most schemes.
o Jeniffer: Josh's daughter.
o Natalie: Tattoo-parlor owner.
o Rina / Kimi: Callie's cousins, rescued by Josh from school.
o Tina: Emma's gymnast friend who was drugged and brainwashed.
o Libby: J-drop producer.
- Josh's Collaborators
o Dana: Trust-fund manager.
o Charles: Lawyer.
- Sluts
o Lainy AKA Slut One: FBI forensic accountant imbedded in Dana's firm.
o Julia AKA Slut Two: FBI field agent.
o Anya AKA Slut Three: FBI field agent imbedded with the Russian cartels.
- Antagonists / Others
o Domingo: San Francisco drug-lord.
o Sevana: Previous head of production and distribution for Domingo.
o Agent Michaels: FBI Handler.
o Davis: Dirty San Fransisco police officer
Brats and Rats
Mikaela watched through the crystal-clear window as her father peeled out of the expansive driveway in his new Porshe. The 'boner mobile', as she referred to it. Everybody in the house knew he was off to fuck his little sidepiece, but they were all too polite to say anything. Hypocrites, the lot of them. God forbid news got out to the public about his dalliances, because that would tank her mother's ratings. And who'd vote for a prissy, holier-than-thou woman who couldn't even keep her own house in order? God, she hated it here.
"Breakfast is ready, Miss Mikaela," the nasal voice of Lilith, the head maid, called from the other side of the room. It was like she was actively pinching her own nose to get it to sound like that. "Your mother asks that you join her."
It was bad enough that they had to lean into this whole 'rich and famous' image that her mother was cultivating, but fucking maids and butlers? This shit was unreal. Mikaela had preferred it when they were just a normal family. But no. Mom had to go and find Jesus and run for mayor. Not that she even gave a shit about religion. She only wanted it for the clout.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be down in a bit."
"She asks that you dress nicely, and not, as your mother put it, like trailer trash. The photographer is setting up for some candid shots."
"Oh, my bad, guess I'll lose the thong and miniskirt. Wouldn't want him to pop a boner while I flash my cooch at him."
Lilith's heavy sigh brought a smile to Mikaela's face. It was one of the only things that brought her any joy these days; frustrating everyone's perfect little plans. But, if she didn't want to get an earful, then she'd have to at least pretend to acquiesce.
Mikaela stripped the loose tank top with her favorite band logo off and dropped it on the carpeted floor, kicking it under the bed just so that Lilith would have to fish it out later. She unclipped her bra, letting her perky C's hang freely and tossing the bra onto the dresser. She shimmied out of her booty shorts, grinning as she managed to kick them up onto the bed post. The panties followed, sadly missing the post but still landing on the messy bed.
The doors to the wardrobe swung open, two massive mirrors on either door reflecting Mikaela's naked form as she cocked her hip and evaluated the dresses with disdain. Rows of 'proper' clothing lined the racks, with 'appropriate' skirts and 'skank-free' options available. It was like a forty-year-old virgin had picked out what a teen should wear to church.
Mikaela's eyes lit up as she spied some new additions. Apparently, someone hadn't gotten the memo that Mikaela was all too happy to mangle clothes into something that bordered inappropriate. She brushed her wavy brown hair over her shoulder, auburn eyes glimmering with mischief.
***
"Try to keep the garden in view of the shots," Alice said as she fluffed her hair for the picture, smoothing out a few errant strands of her wavy hazel locks. "We spent good money on the landscaping, I want it all in there."
"Of course, madam mayor. It's a lovely backdrop for us. I think that'll really give you a softer vibe that the suburban voters like."
This photographer was much more agreeable than the last. When the last one hadn't been complaining about lighting, he'd very obviously been checking out her tits like she was a stripper for his amusement. It was a fine line to walk, conservative enough for church, but daring enough to look relatable. Just the slightest swell of her creamy bosom in her buttoned shirt, the fine thread of powerful yet feminine.
That photographer had been a little perv, and Mikaela's interest in his constant erection also hadn't gone unnoticed. This one was far better. He might also be gay, considering he didn't even spare her tits a single glance.
For whatever reason, that rankled Alice. She puffed up her chest and arched her back just a bit more, while gazing through the window onto the perfectly manicured lawn, daintily sipping her coffee. Refined and striking, yet sensuous and elegant. A woman in power.
"Beautiful. Hold the cup down just a bit. Perfect."
After several more minutes of posing, Lilith descended the French stairs, a slight disapproving strain around her eyes.
"Madam, Miss Mikaela is arriving."
Alice kept the groan to herself, only imaging what the little skank was going to come down in this time. Just before she'd had to fire the last photographer, Mikaela had paraded around in stripper heels and a WAP shirt that hung down to her butt-cheeks. Nothing underneath, of course. That girl just wasn't made for high society.