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That's What I Like

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     It was another hot day in Miami, Florida, as she stood on her corner flaunting her curves and her bronzed body. No one truly noticed her because of the plethora of others doing the same exact job as her. She sighed and pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose and began to rifle through her handbag for another lollipop. Just then a car pulled by and she put on her fake smile and  tried to compose herself before she looked up only for the facade to fade away quickly. It was Riccardo, her pimp. He was coming towards her at an alarming rate.
     "Hey, you think this is some kinda joke? I put you here to show all these greasy fuckers what a horny slut you are! If you don't get your brains fucked into oblivion then I don't get any money. Do you understand me, whore? You can starve for all I care bitch!"
     And just like that Riccardo's fist flew into her face, her sunglasses crashing onto the boiling cement. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion and her sweat had suddenly began to mix with blood.
     "If I catch you ignoring the road with your head in that fucking purse one more time I'm gonna kill you, do you hear me? Kill. You. Now get back to work, cunt."
     Riccardo turned to step back into his vehicle when he met a firm but skeletal chest, which caused him to bounce back a bit.
     "Ey man, what the fuck do you think you're doin'?" Riccardo looked up to see reflective shades and a crazy mess of blue-gray hair.
     "I suggest you - you watch who you're talking to, polla," The mystery man glanced down at her and shook his head, "and be a little more discreet about you - your buisness." The taller man stared down at Riccardo and she felt as if the sun had suddenly gotten hotter. She was terrified. No one ever stood up to Riccardo, shit was about to go down.
     "Mr. Sanchez! Please I am so sorry sir, please don't hurt me, I can take you back to the firm and you can have all of my earnings just please-" Riccardo mumbled off as an odd gun was pointed to his head. A shorter boy with brown hair and a comical eyepatch held the weapon up to Riccardo's temple.
     "I don't want your sh-shitty money! I own half of this god damned city! You work for me, yeah - yeah that's the way I see it." Mr. Sanchez spoke in a gravely voice and the shorter male only tightened his grip on the gun.
     "Stop! He was only keeping me in line...." She looked up at all three of the men with glazed over eyes. Sure she'd been in harms way a zillion times, but never this close to the action. She was a prostitute, not a murder.
     "Shut up!" Riccardo viciously spat at her quivering little body.
     "I've seen enough, you - you disgusting piece of human filth." Mr. Sanchez gave a motion with his hand and a soft thud was the only noise she heard as Riccardo's body hit the sidewalk. The boy with the gun quickly blew away the smoke and shoved it in his pocket as he seemed to be awaiting orders.
     "Oh my god!" She scrambled up on her heels and adjusted her cheetah print jacket over her crop top in an attempt to hide herself.
     "Hey - hey, it's fine, little nymphet. You're not a whore baby girl, I'm gonna take reaaalll good care of you." Mr. Sanchez sounded a lot more sincere now that Riccardo was slowly bleeding out under the orange Miami sunset.
     "M-morty, take care of this garbage." Mr. Sanchez kicked the body onto its side and she could see Riccardo's eyes wide open in a last attempt of sympathy before his death. His temple was leaking a mixture of fluids and what she could only assume was brain slush. She gasped and covered her mouth as the tears she was attempting to hide finally spilled over 
     Morty simply nodded and began to pick Riccardo's shoulders up under his arms and drag the body into the nearest alleyway. A small ray of green light was seen and then Morty reappeared into plain sight.
     "All taken care of, gramps." Morty smirked and Mr. Sanchez rolled his eyes behind his shades.
     She had no idea what to do, who these people were, or what her chances of running and surviving were. She brushed her hair back with trembling fingers and then reached for another lollipop to sate her oral fixation.
    "Get in the car, please?" Morty looked like a sweet boy and he looked willing to make her feel safe. She never knew life outside of the human trafficking service she belonged to. This Mr. Sanchez guy must be a real head honcho if he could scare even Riccardo. Maybe he was another pimp. She didn't want to think about that right now, all she wanted to do was focus and feel the soft velvet of the limited Cadillac seats she was currently sliding into and the pop music being played through the speakers. It sounded like Bruno Mars, which was a typical voice in a sunny tourist trap like Miami. Her heart was beating at a normal speed now. She felt...safe?

     The car ride was rather silent. The black tinted windows still didn't block out the city lights, she never really had the chance to admire them. Being an escort was a rather busy and risky job. However, being bedded constantly kept her away from the nightlife, suprisingly enough considering she was a part of it. Her thoughts were lost in the last 24 hour events that she barely even noticed that Mr. Sanchez had pulled into a gated community known for celebrity beach houses and private shores.

     "Not to be a burden, but where are we going?" She fidgeted in her seat wondering if she had overstepped her boundaries by opening her mouth. The younger boy simply looked at her in the rearview mirror with his visible eye and seemed to ignore her question whilst Mr. Sanchez gave the most shit-eating grin possible.

     "We're going home baby girl. We're goURGhing home..." He said with a belch.

     

Chapter Text

She smiled weakly at Mr. Sanchez as he presented a wicked grin. She sat in the back and listened to the radio for only a bit longer before the car came to a sudden stop. Her mind was elsewhere and she still had no clue where they were, or why she was even with them.
     "Show her around, MoOUTGRty." Good Lord this man belched a lot.
     "L-Let me guess, business?" The eyepatched boy put his fists on his hips in a sarcastic manner.
     "Yeah, yeah. Don't get your centimeter worm wet. She's probably a nice giOURl....probably. Don't bore her to death either." Mr. Sanchez tossed the brunette a set of keys before walking towards a small building by the...pool?!
     "Where are we?!" She pulled her fur jacket  closer to her thin body in the cool night air. Curiosty was hitting her from all directions.
     "For me? Home. For you? Paradise." The boy turned and started to walk away without another word.
     "Hey wait-!" She paused her train of thought and began to recount its passengers.
     "Morty. Morty Smith," he answered her unspoken question, "And that old creep is my grandpa, Rick Sanchez."
     "Rick? Huh. And you're Morty?"
     "Uh, y-yep. Mortimer Smith. That's me. S-sadly..."
     The talk had distracted her once more and she almost bumped into morty as he stopped to unlock the front doors of the luxurious house she had yet to notice. Rick had gone off to a poolside building to do, "business" while she walked the lush gardens of a gated estate. And to think that only hours ago she was a poor prostitute being abused in broad daylight. Even though, she was still on the fence about trusting these two, why had they saved her and not the others? Surely they knew that other girls were getting hit just as much as her. A thought for another time.
     "So obviously you saw where the pool was located. Now I'll be showing you to y-your room." Morty began ascending a set of grand marble stairs.
     "You have a stutter?" In her head it was a statement. And in her head is where it should have stayed.
     Morty stopped and turned to look at her over his shoulder. His eyebrows twisted in discomfort and his lips formed a tiny hint of a frown.
     "No! I'm so sorry! I, uh, didn't mean to make you feel bad. It's just cute. Is it an anxious thing or something you developed." She wanted to rip out her dip-dyed hair.

/STUPID STUPID STUPID/

     "Both I g-guess. It's fine. I get outcast enough due to my patch." He pointed to his covered eye. She opened her mouth but he quickly dismissed herself.

/Don't ask./

     "This will be your room. Rick texted me and requested that you get the room next to his incase anything happens." Morty was talking slower, probably trying to control his stutter now.
     "Pfft, why so I can be his actual life-alert when he has a stroke." She was full of horrible quips and she couldn't stop herself. She instantly regretted what she said.
     "Y-you know, Rick didn't have t-to save you at all! We pass hundreds of girls like you! All day, h-he pulled over for you though..." Morty regained his composure and tried to go back to his monotonous tone.
     "Wow, I'm sorry man, I didn't mean it like that, it was only a sick joke." She wanted to stab herself right then and there. He was right, dispite a horrendous turn of events they did technically sage her life.
     "A joke? Keep it at that." Yeesh. He was a ray of sunshine, wasn't he?
     After a few more stairs up Morty gestured towards a white and gold double door. She gasped and put her hands on the intricate designs carved into the wood.
     "Wow. It's beautiful!" She was filled with extreme giddiness at the beggining of her new life.
     "Gramps will probably be up here pretty late so you can just thank him at breakfast tomorrow. G-good night." Morty awkwardly shuffled around her and headed down the stairs.

     "I can't believe that this happened to me. All in one day. Christ, I couldn't imagine this ever happening to me at all." She was now whispering to herself outside of her new bedroom. She was stalling before going in. She wanted to make this memorable. Sighing she finally pushed the doors open to reveal a gorgeous room filled with luxiorous items that she had never seen in her life. The furniture was a magnificent white with gold trimmings, and the floor was a gorgous white and obsidian marble mixture. This looked like a room that could only be found in movies or dreams.
     "No fucking way..." She squealed and made a start for the king sized bed.
     She threw her body onto the mattress and flopped around in the lush blankets.
     "C-careful, that's reaaallll egyptian silk right there. Every room has the same sheets but still, be a little more gentle. Yeesh." The raspy voice continued to carry on ever after the girl let out a high-pitched yelp.
     "Morty said you wouldn't be up here until  later!" She was only a bit startled but she also felt a bit let-down by Morty's dishonesty.
     "Relax, it's not like I walked in on you masturbating or anything. You're fine doll." Mr. Sanchez relaxed his long fingers into his wild hair and sighed through his nose.
     She was blushing now and all she wanted to do was get swallowed up by the incredibly soft duvet. It wasn't even the lewdness of his statement, but rather the pet-name she had just recived.
     "Yeah, I guess you're right. It could've been worse." She looked at the older man in all of his rich glory. Watches, chains, designer coat and shoes. He was the epitome of lavish living and she was dying to know why.
     "Oh don't get sarcastic, I know that your young teenage mind could care less for my small talk but I'm here for better reasons." Mr. Sanchez strutted across the room with his impeccably long legs and pulled back the curtain to the balcony doors.
     "Those reasons are?" The girl was now scooting to the edge of the bed in anticipation.
     "I want you to u-use your skills in order to please m-me. Oh, I'm also willing to reward you for putting up w-with my old ass." Rick studied the waves crashing against the shore outside of the window as the girl let his words process in her head. This definitely would not be the first time she slept with someone much older than her.
     "What kind of rewards are we talking about?"

Chapter Text

        "Well aren't you a naughty weasel. Tsk, tsk, I offer you something from the bottom of my heart and you already wish to ruin the sUuRprise?" Rick smirked as he turned to look at the little girl who sat bow legged on the silk sheets of her new bed.
        "Ew old man, don't ever call me that again." She grew uncomfortable at how oddly nice she was being treated when suddenly it all flooded away.
        Rick took two long steps towards the bed and grabbed her chin with a bruising grip. Her eyes watered at the sudden violent contact. It's not like it was the first time she was treated harshly but it was still shocking due to how nice he seemed in the past few hours. The man who had been asking her for sexual favors and offering rewards was now snarling in her face.
        "Old man? Yeah I know what I am you little whore, but you are no longer allowed to disrespect me like that. You call me Daddy or Sir, understood? You could easily be mistaken as my daughter so don't fuck this up for both of us. And w-watch your demanding tone, I'm in charge. Comprende? I'm a mother-fucking God!" He laughed maniacally and tightened his grip.
        She was at a loss for words and without a thought she was already violently shaking her head 'yes' as well as she could while still in his firm hold on her chin and neck.
        "I didn't hear an apology, use your words, baby." Rick was beginning to feel his influence on her was a bit less than fear and more of arousal. He smirked wickedly and listened to her plead, voice dripping like melted sugar.
        "I'm sorry Daddy. I shouldn't have been rude. Can you ever forgive me for my mistakes?" She knew exactly what she was doing to him. Her innocent act was most likely a kink of his since he already requested to be called Daddy.

She'd be his little girl.
     

   "H-holy fuck. Ugh. Yeah fine. W-w-whatever. Strip for Daddy." He ended his sentence with a belch.
          "Yes sir." She watched as he smiled and didn't sugar coat the fact that he had a growing buldge in his pants.
        She was a pro at this, it was her previous occupation after all. Rick pulled a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it up as he stood by and watched the show. His little girl began by shrugging off her fur coat and twirling it around her body before throwing it on the bed behind her. He was slightly unimpressed until she turned her back to him and crossed her arms in order to grab the hem on her crop top. She looked at him over her shoulder and winked. She pulled the shirt up her smooth tan body and without revealing her chest to him she turned quickly and threw the top at him. He snarled at her teasing but took a long drag of his cigar and continued watching her act.
        She peeked at him once more before she bent over onto the bed and began to slowly grind against the bed frame as her tight ass bounced for him. She sighed and slowly eased out of her pink bikini bottoms. She slipped them over her plump ass and bounced once more for effect before dropping them to her feet and spreading her legs. As she was about to rub her clit on the bed frame again she was suddenly struck with immense pain on her ass cheek.
        "Ow! Fuuuck! What the fuck did you just do?! Ahh, it hurts." She was breathing heavily and her breasts were bouncing up and down as she wreathed in pain. Tearswere forming in her eyes at this point.
        "I-it's a temporary brand, the real one will probably hurt less." He finished putting his cigar out on her before throwing it to the floor and stepping on it for safe measure.
        "You're going to brand me like an animal?!" She was still having aftershocks of the burning pain but her mind was in another place of rage entirely.
        "W-well yeah. Heh-heh, w-what did you expect? A nice home and lots of money? Yeah you've got that but it ain't free princess. Y-you're mine until the day you die now. I want an 'R' tattooed right there in this little cigar circle."
        She tried her best for a way out of it, and for a moment thought she had outsmarted him.
        "But my pimp's name was Ricardo, they'll think I still belong to him." She crossed her arms over her pirky breasts and smiled triumphiantly.
        "N-not when my entire brand revolves around that there design, sugar doll."

     So much for trying to out-wit the smartest man in the Multiverse.