Seven Ways To Sin

Chapter II: An Angels Misery

(Note: This chapter is written in Seraphim's POV, all other chapters will be written in Jaxine's unless noted otherwise.)

TRIGGER WARNING: suicide, arson, toxic/abusive relationships

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Friday January 12th 2018

19 days until the Lunar Eclipse and the Lunar Masquerade

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How I despise men.

Don't get me wrong, they're excellent customers and easy to seduce, but DAMN do they feel entitled. It's absolutely ridiculous, they always think they own you or something else primitive.

Then again, that's the beauty of the American Dream, you capitalize on the white man and make them work for you! My mama didn't haul ass outta Costa Rica all them damn years ago for no reason did she not? That's what she taught me when I was young, and I've held those words dear ever since.

She ALSO was a prostitute and a stripper, and little me aspired to follow in her footsteps.

You wanna know a secret? I still do.

I grew up in the same strip club/brothel she worked AND lived in. What? We didn't have much other options of housing other than to live there with the owner. She didn't try to hide her profession from me, not like she had a choice, but instead she embraced it and taught me to do whatever I wanted with my life. She didn't care if I wanted to be like her, actually she preferred it, claiming once I got old enough I could work in the club and she wouldn't have to worry about paying for college.

Poor woman, she could barely speak english and had me when she was only 20. As a kid, I ended up having to teach her english along with some other things about America that she didn't know.

Growing up in a strip club wasn't all bad, I got lots of other mothers other than mine, who loved and cared for me like their own. Were all my toys some variation of a sex toy? Yes but that's irrelevant.

But right now my focus isn't on my problematic childhood, it's on the present aggrievance at hand, which is this dumbass basketball jock who thinks he's actually gonna run with me for Lunar Prince and Princess.

His name is August, a pretty name for such a bland piece of shit.

He's one of those guys who thinks he has girls groveling at his feet but in reality most girls fawn over him because he's co-captain of the basketball team and are desperately trying to be the next Kyra and Trey, NOT because he's actually attractive.

I'm surprised he even came to me, usually his ass goes for easy targets like freshman girls, I've even caught him hanging around the middle school dances like a total creep, so you can imagine my reaction when he came up to me yesterday morning with a good 600 dollars in cash.

That's roughly 90 hours of my service, which is 6 hours short of 4 days. Which also means I have to let this lowlife cling to my skirt like a child for four days, and we're already 24 hours in and I wanna die.

I'll admit, he has good stroke game, but his foreplay is so boring and rehearsed I almost felt like I was back in middle school again; when the only thing people knew how to do is the rushed shit they saw in porn.