I Hate My Life Pt. 01

Rose emits a scream heard on the moon. With each thrust, I fire another stream of babymakers deep inside my sister. Rose leans against the shower wall. She too, is weak in the knees. I spin her around, and we hold on to each other, willing the other to continue standing. At the same time, we are rinsing off.

I turn off the water and pull Rose out of the shower. We dry off. We meet again for breakfast, dressed. Three of us are exhausted at breakfast, each of us has a wicked smile on our face. Anna and Sophia laugh at us throughout breakfast. I can see the hunger in their eyes. This really can't be happening. I wonder, is Grandma forcing them to do this?

+++++

The first stop of the day is a beauty salon. I guess they don't use a bowl like mom did with me. I have heard my sisters use the name of this place before. It's a little humiliating being the only guy here.

As I step into the place, a lady yells out, "NO! NO! NO! We don't do guys here! I know who you are, we don't do guys. Get the hell out before I have you thrown out."

Sophia seems to be in charge, "Ok, no problem, I will tell Grandma Scallini that her favorite grandson, Marco, could not get a haircut here."

That put a visible jolt of fear into the woman.

The lady yells out, "Does anyone know how to cut men's hair?"

Both a very young and a very old woman say yes.

Maria takes me over to the young woman. She is short, black hair, and a massive set of breasts. Otherwise, with the nose she had, she has more of a bird looking face, it isn't pretty. She is very friendly, though.

Maria starts with, "Mom always used..."

The lady finishes, "... used a bowl to cut his hair. I can see it. I'll go short; we don't have much choice. The sides will be much shorter. When I finish with him, it will be stylish, easy to maintain, and easier on the eyes if you know what I mean. He isn't bad now but wait until I'm done." She growls like a cat.

She has me sit down in the chair, puts the cover over me, and then wets my hair. She is behind me as she uses a comb to pull all the hair back. My head moves with it, and I'm forced back into her soft breasts. OOOOOO, hot damn, that is fun!

Over and over, she pulls me back into her breasts. She moves to the side, tells me to keep my head straight, and then proceeds to press those huge knockers into my head, which I'm forcing to stay straight. My sisters are giggling at my smiles.

The young lady is looking at my lap, there is a bulge now. She has a smile on her face. She goes in back again and strokes my hair back. This is something she does many times. Each time I get bigger.

Thirty minutes later, and I do look like a new man. I mean, wow, what a huge difference. Each of my sisters are impressed.

Sophia suggests, "How about tipping her with a song?"

The lady whips around and is staring at me with lust.

Eric Clapton's "Tears in Heaven" pops into my mind, I belt out, "Would you know my name

If I saw you in heaven? ..." It's a sad song about the death of his four-year-old son. Me and everyone in the salon are crying. No hair is being cut; everyone is staring at me, customers, and employees alike. Every single one of them has tears flowing down their face. I'm attacked by my sisters, who are crying with the best of them.

I try to leave a $100 bill with my stylist, but she will have no part of taking my money after that performance. I must admit, every woman's eyes I peered into, I knew I owned them. Is that the stage presence they talk about? Wow was that intoxicating. I want more of that. I can see why rock stars screw so many fans, the high you get after a performance is fantastic.

That was three minutes, I can't imagine three hours of that. They NEED to fuck. Man or woman, doesn't matter, you need to take a willing fan.

I am in a daze; I'm woken up with a blow job in the backseat of the car. Anna has her eyes wide open, stroking my shaft, and bobbing on my cock. I want to fuck her, but that's impossible in the back of the suburban, I don't trust the family drivers that much. Anna shouldn't be doing this. I'm sure Sophia wanted to as well, she is smart enough to know how incredibly bad that would be for her. Many women want to be her, an ear to Grandma.

We spend several hours shopping for clothes with a break for lunch. At exactly noon, I am forced to stop and eat. We had several hundred dollars of merchandise out, they ran and got us whatever we wanted. That was nice of them. After that, we looked at beds. I hated that the most, they look cheap or too modern. Finally, we found an Amish craftsman. He makes hand-crafted four post canopy beds. He will deliver one on his way home. I also liked his computer desk; it was big and bulky.

We then buy a mattress and convince them to deliver it today as well. I purchase a gamer's computer. I don't play games, but those types of machines have the best components. I can't buy the software I want, that must be purchased online. Again, we convinced them to deliver the computer and set it up today.

Dinner is interesting. While we were out, we decide to go out for Chinese. We have ordered from them before. Inside the place, it isn't quite up to our standards. Our driver came in with us and immediately called for backup. I guess better safe than sorry.

While we are eating, Sophia looks sad as she explains to me, "Marco, you aren't getting a driver's license or car."

A bullet through me would have hurt less. I drop my fork. They all look sad for me. This isn't just faking it for me, they have tears in their eyes.

Sophia continues, now holding my hand, "Mom has Grandma riled up, and they're afraid of losing you. Until I take over, one of us must be with you. I did get some concessions. One, you get to pick which of us goes with you. Two, you can still date and get married. The third one was the hardest, but it was mandatory in my point of view, and that being you can leave the state of New York.

"You can travel, visit, and move about as you wish, as long as you live in New York. The family will provide transportation, security, and plane fare as needed. We need to give an increasingly longer amount of lead time based on the distance we plan to go. An hour locally, a day out of state, two days across the country, and a week internationally. That seemed reasonable for me as they need to assign security and get a plane or car.

"If you take more than just one of us, they need more security. This is your own fault; you scared the hell out of them when you took off several months ago. I know you want freedom. However, because of your last name, you don't get that. We all must be protected. There are families out there that would love a shot at an unprotected family member. I can't lose you."

Maria adds, "WE can't lose you. Not now. We've changed and ... well ... I think you know."

This is extremely disappointing. I'm caught in their web.

I put my fork down, stand up, and then walk out the door without looking back. I know I will be followed. I don't care. I have no money and no phone. All I can do is wander the streets. I do that until 2:00 AM. I stop, look up, and have no idea where I am. Zero clues.

I say out loud, "I'm ready to go home now."

I see Uncle Vito talking on his phone as he steps out of a shadow. He doesn't say anything, just holds out his arms for a hug.

As I'm crying, I say, "I'm their slave."

Uncle Vito laughs at me, "Boy, you need to read up on your history. Try reading about pre-civil-war life in the South. We prosper, we suffer, and we are controlled by the machine called the Modern American Mob. You either embrace it, or it runs over you my boy. What you need to learn is you can shape your own destiny. There are many ways to make money, some are legal, some not so much." A limo shows up, and we get in. Maria is inside and quickly attaches herself to my side.

"You need to follow your dreams, kid. I think you will find that you and the machine both want the same thing from you. I could be wrong, I'm just a dumb meathead. I don't have the smarts the others do. You ever wonder where that voice came from? Those were no ordinary voice doctors. Just saying."

We stop at our house; Uncle Vito opens the door and then helps me out.

I hug my uncle and tell him, "So, was that you talking to me or the machine?"

He hugs me back and smiles at me. Yeah, just what I thought. I go straight to my new bedroom, lock the door, and go to bed.

+++++

The next morning, I wake up with Maria in my arms. There is a mangled coat hanger by the alarm clock. My alarm never went off. They are already manipulating me. In a fit of anger, I get out of bed and then take a quick shower. As soon as Maria enters, I exit. I'm dressed and out of the room before she gets out of the shower. My cousin Tony is drinking coffee, waiting for breakfast.

I get a coat, "Come on, Tony, get the car, we'll eat on the way."

Tony puts on his coat, and the Suburban is outside waiting already. I have an appointment this morning with a singing agency. They help singers learn to sing like professionals and help professionals improve. They're really singing coaches.

We go through a fast-food drive thru. Funny, I have never done that before. I prefer my potatoes crispy, that was a big failure. I am disappointed with the coach. To sum it up, I suck, but there is potential in Opera. Swell. I'm not a huge fan of the Opera.

I go two days a week but practice five at home. That meant I had to soundproof my bedroom. I must limit how much I sing, or my voice gets sore. Gradually, it's getting better. Because of my limited practice time, no more bar, no singing for Grandma or for anyone else.

I'm eating a square meal three times a day. I feel my body strengthening. All in all, things are going well. I have several songs ready for the audition. It's only a week away now. This is the first round; naturally, they're starting in New York City.

To be continued ...