Scratch walked to the window and looked out at the "construction workers"--he didn't know who they were, but he knew they weren't really construction workers. And now he had an inkling as to why they were there. "Something happened to me yesterday...I know not what. But I bet those guys know. I do know this. Sex is power. And I am mighty indeed."
...
As a model, Eva Grow was practiced in the art of enticement--and practice had made perfect. Yep. They called her Eva "The Body" Grow. Whenever Scratch saw her body, he saw why. She was hot as a firecracker. The ultimate pleasure package...visual popcorn, eye candy...
Eva Grow was mayor of the city of Stimulation.
She was governor of the state of Seduction.
She was president of the principality of Passion.
She was empress of Erotica.
She was dictator of Desire.
Yep. Eva Grow. Here for your pleasure.
She makes mine grow, Scratch chuckled to himself.
...
Scratch walked into his plush new office. He clicked on his computer and accessed scratch dot com. His new website was getting thousands of hits per day. Scratch smiled. He was selling lots of photos and making big bucks. All those people who had called him a pimply ass--well, he had the last laugh. His clothing and cologne lines were selling like hotcakes. And if people were rich or had a lot of power, Scratch would bang them. As if they were dogs, Scratch gave them bone. Pleasure beyond measure. Soon, there were a lot of powerful people scratching Scratch's back. Yes, he had the last laugh to those that laughed at his pimply ass. He was now a pimply-assed millionaire.
But every once in a while, Scratch would notice those "construction workers" following him, keeping tabs... But he didn't care. He'd buy them. Or, if any of them were heterosexual women or gay men, he'd sleep with them. He wasn't worried. Let them follow him around. Scratch was banging everybody he wanted to bang, and had a host of models from the agency to choose from, male or female. He was an equal-opportunity bonker. But you had to be beautiful, at least by Scratch's definition of beauty--unless you were rich. If he liked you or wanted to use you, he'd take out his tool kit and start hammering, nailing, and screwing. Or he'd take out Elmer's glue and paste you. Yep. He liked to bang away. Scratch wasn't getting bang for his buck. He was getting buck for his bang.