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“Yes,” Monika laughed. “I was expecting you to be the same way as Jackie was that first week, if not worse. But you surprised me. You’re tougher than you look.”
“Thank you,” Fantasy said. “I wasn’t always like this. The me that you see is the me Mercedes and Jada turned me into.”
She too had come a long way from where she was when she first began working for the family. Fantasy was well known those days as being a dancer with good pussy, but she wanted so much more than that out of life and was determined to have it all.
Believe it or not, her real name was Fantasy. Her mother, Deloris was forty-eight when she got pregnant with her. Throughout her childbearing years, she had been told that she couldn’t get pregnant and if she did, she probably wouldn’t be able to carry the baby to term. So when she got pregnant, she began calling the baby she was carrying her fantasy baby and when the baby was born, she named her Fantasy.
However, childbearing proved to be too much for her. During the second half of her pregnancy, Deloris developed a high blood pressure disorder called preeclampsia that reduced the supply of blood to the fetus, which went undiagnosed due to poor prenatal care. The onset of the condition during delivery caused seizures that sent her into a coma and she eventually died from complications of kidney failure and cardiac arrest.
Since her biological father hadn’t been seen or heard from since the day Deloris told him that she was pregnant, Fantasy was taken in by her maternal grandmother and she stayed with her grandmother until she died when Fantasy was twelve. After that, she bounced around from aunts and uncles homes and to cousins she’d never heard of and friends she stayed with when things just got too crazy where she was staying.
That was why she felt such a strong kinship with Tenikka when they both used to dance together at Shooters. They were both from similar backgrounds and each saw dancing as a means to a better life. Tenikka wanted to go to college. Fantasy, well, she didn’t know exactly what she wanted to do, but she knew that she was destined to be more than just another dancer with good pussy.
She couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen when she first noticed it. At the time, Fantasy didn’t understand what it meant, but she noticed it in her panties. She was wet, very wet. When she mentioned
it to her aunt, she told her about panty liners. That helped some, but by then, she had noticed that anytime she was aroused by some type of mental or visual stimulation, she’d get wet.
It was evident the first time she kissed a boy. First her womb got tight, then there was a warmth that followed. It wasn’t until she moved that Fantasy felt the wetness seeping through her lips.
The first time that Fantasy had sex and he entered her, he said, “Damn, you so wet.”
During the experience, which didn’t last long, it was like he was trying to maintain control to keep from cumming the entire time. That experience was repeated in every sexual experience that she had during those years.
“I don’t know what happened. You got some good pussy,” was the line she heard over and over again.
All men say ‘you got some good pussy’ when they cum quick, a girlfriend told her, but after hearing, you are so wet, you are so tight, it is so warm, at some point, Fantasy started believing the hype.
She did, indeed, have good pussy.
But she also understood that to men, all pussy was good pussy after they came, so she was just another dancer with good pussy.
But she was Fantasy!
She was selling an illusion; therefore, while other dancers were giving it away, Fantasy boldly stated that sex with her would cost one thousand dollars. Since that was the same program Jada West ran to varying degrees during her dancing days, she was impressed with Fantasy and the way she handled herself. And like Jada, Fantasy soon found that there were men willing to pay her price.
And that was all well and good, and although it was great for her bank account, it didn’t move her toward her goals. Fantasy understood that she needed to do something to get noticed; to stand out from the crowd or be known as just another dancer with good pussy.
Her opportunity came when there was a plan to kill Black and Bobby in the hope that it would set Rain off and she’d kill Ed Weather. The plan failed … badly. The word on the streets was that Black and Rain were looking for anybody who had anything to do with it and that list included Luke Franken.
But instead of heading off for Mexico with Luke, Fantasy decided that handing over four bodies to Ed Weather was the first step to putting herself in a better position. Therefore, when somebody was needed to lure Keith Gerald out of the dice game that he ran for JoJo Royal, Fantasy stepped up again.
A few nights later, Black and Rain came to Shooters and when they came out of the office, Fantasy saw Rain pointing her out to Black. Even though they left without her getting a chance to actually meet Black and get the opportunity to pledge her undying loyalty to him, she knew that she had gotten what was really important.
Mike Black knows who I am.
“Anyway,” Monika said. “This training is intended not only to teach you the skills you need to handle any situation, but also to instill confidence in yourself.”
“So, what will come after this portion of the training?” Fantasy asked.
“What I like to call the black phase schedule.”
“May I ask what that entails?”
“We’ll do more engagement skills training, some more situational awareness training and then we’ll move on to the heavy weapons training,” Monika told Fantasy. She didn’t think she’d ever need to utilize the heavy weapons training, but it’ll be fun. At least it will be for me, she thought and continued. “We’ll step up to 10K and 15K tactical runs and we’ll do a number of field training and infiltration exercises.”
The mention of field training and infiltration exercises intrigued Fantasy. Her one and only time in the field in Italy was both fun and exciting and she was looking forward to applying what she had learned since then. It was then that Monika got a call from Black on her satellite phone.
“Hey, Black.”