WARNING. HEAVY STUFF IN LATER CHAPTERS.
RATED M FOR A DAMN GOOD REASON.
I was an addict. Not a junkie kind of addict, or addicted to something wonderful, like writing, or singing, no, my vice was sex of all things. It wasn't one of those utter BS sex addictions where you cheat on the person you're with and then claim to own the problem, it was more like I needed sex so bad that I couldn't handle going more than a few days without it. It was that bad, like an addiction to heroin, only I didn't see demons after my high, I just saw the boring mundane life of a slut like me. Now don't get me wrong, I can't wait to kick this problem, but it's hard doing. I used to need every few hours or so, but over the past two months I've limited it to once or twice every couple of days. Better than nothing, right?
Well, it is considering my most recent job and everything. I had recently become a hotel maid, boring right? Wrong, I liked the cute little outfit they had me wear, since it was a place where shit-loads of famous people stayed, us maids were eye-candy. I wore my jet black hair in a pony-tail that curled down to the nape of my neck, and on my whiter-than-snow skin I had a french maid outfit on, only instead of an apron, there was a huge hole in the middle so that you could almost see my goods. The guests loved it. And of course I wore black fish-net panty-hoes(another need of the work-place) and black VANS shoes.
I walked into Room 626 and gawked at the mess in front of me. Panties hung off the bed, leather pants on the Tv, alcohol bottles everywhere, and white splotches of cum all over the bed sheets. Who the fuck has this room, I'll wring his horny fucking neck! Then I noticed that there was someone IN the bed. Not bothering gentle treatment for whoever it was, I ripped the sheet off the bed from right under him and tossed it in the hamper in the hallway. It woke him up and he wasn't happy to have his blanket ripped away and be laying naked on an uncovered mattress first thing in the morning, hissing when the cold air hit him.
"Tommy! What the fuck is... Who the hell are you bitch?" he said, opening his eyes and realizing that I wasn't Tommy. He had black hair that would normally be styled taller than the empire state, had it not been jacked up from sex, drugs, and sleep. His face was innocent looking, but he had this devilish gleam in his gray eyes. I recognized him immediately. I was talking to Nikki fucking Sixx.
"Well good morning to you too, princess! The name's Karma by the way," I laughed. He was still sitting there, on his bed, in the nude.
"Hey, you gonna get up and get dressed, I kinda need to clean up this shit-storm," I pointed out the cleaning supplies on the cart in the hallway.
"Just fucking clean around me," he said, rolling over to go back to sleep. I smirked and sat next to him, then dropped the hamper on his stomach.
"Get the fuck up! I'm changing the sheets!" I yelled as he stood up next to the bed. He pushed the hamper from himself and stood up, glaring down at me and putting on a pair of his leather pants.
"What the fuck is your problem?" he yelled.
"Simple, I work here and I need to clean all this," I threw my arms out wildly, "up. And I haven't had something I fucking NEED in about two days so I'm gonna be a bit bitchy, asshole!" I snarled back. He scoffed and walked out after pulling a shirt on.
"Have fun, cunt!" he called over his shoulder. I responded by slamming his door behind him and trying NOT to punch a hole into his wall.