Page 32 of Bourbon Sins
“Hangover”
GOLDIE / LO
To say I was a little drunk last night was an understatement. Every drink I practiced making, Francy had me drink. She said alcohol should never go to waste, or else that was alcohol abuse. I agreed with her on that statement, especially since the alcohol we were pouring was top shelf.
Handling the bar wasn’t going to be too much of a problem, since the only true options were amber liquids, and nothing really mixed. I did have to learn some mixed shots, but there was a cheat sheet hidden behind the counter. Francy reassured me that the club members knew the drink order options, so they wouldn’t ask for anything we didn’t go over.
I was taking over Francy’s duties for now, until I learned the choreography and could prove to Kace that I was ready to be on stage. Francy didn’t like dancing as much, so she was more than willing to help practice with me so she could get back behind the bar.
When I woke up this morning, I had a wonderful time getting to know my toilet bowl up close and personal. I named him Fred as I puked my guts out and prayed for the never-ending dry heaving to go away. I was going to have to have a conversation with Francy about practice, because I couldnotdo this every time. I liked Fred, but I wasn’t about to make out with him every time Francy wanted to go over drink orders.
There was a pounding at my door that startled me from the cool feel of the toilet bowl across my cheek. I couldn’t move, so I just allowed the pounding to continue. I knew who it was and he was not going to be happy. Just what I needed.
“Get your sorry ass up,” he screamed, as he walked through my room. “Where are you?” He tore my bathroom door open and made eye contact with my pathetic sack of bones. His stupid smirk spread across his face, the one that every time he made it, I wanted to punch it right off.
He leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms as he looked down upon me.
“Rough night?”
“You could say that,” I mumbled, as I felt drool slide out of the corner of my mouth.
“Well, too bad; you’re late for your morning workout session.”
I lifted my head and was grateful I was still in my bra and panties because I didn’t need Kace’s gaze blazing holes through me. Sweat plastered my hair across my neck and face and I slid it to the side, not fully able to use my motor skills to push it out of the way like I wanted, but I made a good attempt.
“You think I’m going to be able to work out right now? I just puked up a God damn shoe; there is no way I will be able to run on a treadmill.”
“Not my problem,” Kace said, as he looked me up and down. “Get your ass downstairs and in the workout room in five minutes or see your sorry ass out on the street. Your choice.”
“You’re a bastard.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” And then he walked off.
I despised that man.
I peeled myself off the ground and threw my hair into a ponytail before I walked over to my closet to grab some workout clothes. Of course, the only clothes provided were a sports bra and spandex shorts. The one time I wanted sweats and a baggy T-shirt, they were not available to me. I threw on the clothes and the sneakers that I was provided and headed down the servant stairs to the gym, which was in the back. Thankfully, members were not allowed in the servants’ quarters, so I didn’t have to wear a mask.
I opened the door to the gym and all the girls were lined up straight, waiting for Kace to tell them what to do. They looked like a damn army of breasts and Kace was the general, waiting to titty fuck all of them with his crooked dick. I didn’t know if he had a crooked dick, but right now, I wished and believed he did, because he was an evil bastard.
I looked at Tootse and Francy, who drank just as much as I had, and they looked right as rain, like spring flowers just coming out to the morning sun. I wanted to kick them both in the vagina.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Kace said, as he looked me up and down. “Because Lo so gracefully decided to show up late, we will be doing squat thrusts for a while after you girls warm up. Hit the treadmills, speed three and let me see those arms pumping.”
Squat thrusts? Those didn’t sound like fun, unless they were me squatting and thrusting over a giant dick, thenthatI could enjoy. I smiled to myself as I got on one of the treadmills. I was glad I actually worked out almost every day, because I would be hurting after two minutes on this treadmill if I didn’t.
I was feeling alright as I jogged on the never-ending hamster device. I thought I would have puked up a storm by now, but I was producing a good sweat and my stomach wasn’t rolling around too much. I wanted to dance in front of Kace and say, “Ha, nice try dickhead, but there’s no puking from me.” He would not enjoy that though, and he’d probably punch me in the milk sack, so I just envisioned it in my head instead.
After a ten-minute warm up—yes ten minutes, I thought it was a little extreme—we all lined up on the empty floor space while Kace stood in front of us like a drill sergeant and held out a stop watch.
“You girls have five minutes of squat thrusts. Start on my count.”
“Uh, one second,” I said, as I held up my arm. “What’s a squat thrust?”
Kace rolled his eyes, handed me the stop watch and said, “Watch carefully.”
He got in a squatting position, then plastered his body to the floor in a push up position, quickly followed by him getting back up into a squat position. If I wasn’t so mesmerized by the way his muscles rippled while he moved around, I would have been horrified by the fact that I had to do that for five minutes.
“Got it?” he asked, as he took the stop watch away from me. I nodded and gulped at the same time. He was evil, but good God was he hot.
