Page 50 of Dozer (Rolling Thunder MC #14)

Chapter 50

Daisy

I slept a lot the first two days, and Master didn’t fuck my ass, or anything else, until the third day. He fed me all my favorite foods and made sure I stayed hydrated, and he hadn’t been joking about waiting on me hand and foot.

But he wouldn’t let me take anything for the pain. No aspirin, no acetaminophen, no ibuprofen. Nothing .

The first couple of days, he put me on the gyno table and sprayed everything down three times a day, and made me stay put, all spread out, until the spray had completely dried. Eventually, that went down to twice a day, and that lasted weeks.

The PA healed fast, when I’d been the most worried about it. Master said the other holes could possibly be healed at our eight-week visit, but it could take four to six months. It takes longer than that for the Christina piercing, sometimes, but Master would be able to fuck my pussy once the labia piercings were healed. He’d have to be careful until the Christina piercing fully healed, but so long as he chose positions where nothing directly touched it, we’d be fine. I had a feeling that meant a lot of being fucked from behind.

Three weeks after I was pierced, I had my orientation at the laundry, and the following Monday, I started my first ever official, legal job.

What had made me tell Master I thought I needed some job experience before I started at the tattoo shop? Folding clothes for eight hours a day is fucking mind-numbing, but I didn’t dare daydream and fuck something up.

A month of it, three days a week, and I thought I’d die of boredom. He showed me my paychecks, and had me sign the back of them so he could deposit them into his bank account, but that was okay. He was giving me a place to live, really good food, and nice clothes, though I only got to wear them when I left the house. No way did my paltry hundred and something dollars mean shit when compared to what he’d spent on me.

I had more freedom at the clubhouse now, and I was allowed to have dinner with some of the ol’ladies a couple of times. Also, he ordered me a credit card in my new name, which meant I only had about forty dollars in cash on me when I went out. I could only use the card when I had permission, but that was okay — it wasn’t like I went anywhere I could buy anything. So far, I’d only put my meals on it when I ate out with my new friends.

Oh, and Master had this friend named Marco, who sometimes came to our house just to hang out. I really liked him, and it felt like, back in the beginning, if I’d wanted away from Master, I could’ve talked to Marco about it. I’d never have been able to go to the cops, but I just knew Marco would get me away from Master if I’d been completely unhappy. I had no reason to trust him, other than the fact he was Master’s friend, but I really liked him.

While I was at The Billiard Club with Angelica one day, Marco joined us in a few games of pool. Later, Master and Bash arrived, as well as Cora, Marco’s girlfriend. It was more fun than I could ever remember having, three couples hanging out together.

During this general time frame, I fucked up a few times and had to be punished, but nothing major. A couple of strikes of the cane once, and ten minutes kneeling on rice a few times, but that was as bad as it got for a while — but then I had an orgasm when I wasn’t allowed the first time he fucked my pussy after being pierced, and he put me on the fucking machines with a dildo in my ass and another in my mouth for three hours, and then made me kneel on rice for twenty minutes with a butt plug coated in hot pepper oil in my already-raw ass.

Most days, I wasn’t chained or locked up when Master left for work. He was back to working four ten-hour days now, rather than the three twelve-hour days he’d apparently worked for a while so he could have an extra day home with me. He’d still put me on my chain sometimes, and I had a feeling it was just a reminder, and not because he thought I wanted to escape.

When he decided I had learned all I could learn working in the laundry, I shadowed the people who worked in the bike shop office a few days, and then spent two eleven-hour-days a week handling customer service. Well, I had a thirty-minute break to eat, so it was really ten and a half hours, but it was so much better than folding clothes at the laundry. After about a month of that, Dozer decided I was up to being a waitress.

They gave me two tables the first day, the same two tables the next day, but then I went to the office to eat dinner with Dozer, and when I came back out, they added two more tables, so I had four.

On my fifth day, they gave me six tables and it was hell, but I managed mostly okay. The other servers had from six to ten tables, but I was never assigned more than six. My paychecks were a lot bigger here because the tips were substantial, but when I considered the cost of, well, everything , I realized I was busting my ass and still not making enough so I could live on my own. Not that I wanted to, but it seemed important I make enough I could support myself if I had to. I never again wanted to be in a position where I might have to go begging for help.

However, when I told Dozer I realized I wasn’t making a living wage, he sat down with me and showed me that some people do live on what they make as a waitress. He drove me to some of the cheap apartments in town, and even had me set an appointment to look at one of them and pretend I was considering moving into it. The place was horrid, and it smelled . The appliances were awful, and the bathroom looked like something from a horror movie despite the fact it was clean.

But if I lived close enough to work and a grocery store so I could ride a bike, and if I bought only cheap food at the grocery store and never ate out at a restaurant, and if I was super-careful with the electricity, I could manage to live in that apartment on what I’d make as a waitress. But there would be no new clothes, and only one of the budget streaming services at a time. Also, I’d have to save up for six or eight months so I could buy dishes, silverware, towels, and a used television, because once I started having to support myself, there would be no money to save and hardly any money for extras.

It was disheartening, but it made me want to do my absolute best once I began apprenticing to be a tattoo artist.

And when I talked to the other waitresses, I learned most of them had a roommate, and that meant they could afford a cheap car, and a few extras here and there if they were super careful with their budget. One of them made dog collars and dog coats she sold online. Another was about to start cosmetology school to learn how to do nails, so she could work for the MC’s new salon, eventually. The MC was footing some of her tuition, which she’d pay back slowly over time once she was working as a nail tech.

And I’d eventually start apprenticing to be a tattoo artist. I had plans, and it felt good.