Chapter 18
Tanner
A few days have passed since we all pleasured Amelia together, and so far, it’s all that I can think about. It has been a blissful few days because Amelia is finally coming out of her shell. She had already gotten comfortable with us, but ever since our last encounter together, things have become better between all of us.
We have not yet tried out her deepest darkest desire, to all have her at the same time, because she is not ready, even though she thinks she is. There haven’t been any awkward moments between us nor have there been times we did not enjoy each other’s company. After the incident, we played board games and video games more times than I can count. We’ve spent quality time together these past few days. We now have better conversations and better laughs. Our bond is stronger now.
She used to suck at the game of Monopoly, but she’s picked it up really fast because she had good teachers to learn from.
She’s all I can think about. I’ve found her annoying from the very first time she opened her mouth to speak, and nothing has changed. She’s still the most annoying lady ever; however, although she manages to annoy me, she’s also the most exhilarating woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of being with.
There have been so many women before her, and yet, none holds a candle to her. She affects me more than any other woman ever has before.
I’ve never wanted to claim a woman before, but having her is all I can think of.
I hear a gentle knock on my door, and I know instantly that it’s her. I’m already familiar with the way the boys knock, if they remember to do that in the first place.
I adjust in my bed. “Come on in. It’s open!”
The door squeaks and opens as she walks in with a white towel wrapped around her. She gently shuts the door and smiles.
“I, uh…” She softly clears her throat. “I need help with the shower head. I think it’s broken.”
This is by far the lamest excuse I have ever heard a girl use as justification to enter a guy’s room dripping wet, literally.
Her hair is soaked, and there are water splashes on her face. As she stands there before me, my eyebrows rise. So does my cock. She looks so sexy and ravishing.
“You broke the shower head?” I ask, knowing that she did not.
Her mouth opens as if to say something in her defense, but she sighs and confesses. “Fine, it’s not broken.” She walks over to my bed. “I’m bored. Rueben and Josiah aren’t home, and I want to do something other than just think.”
I rub my jaw in glee. “What do you have in mind?”
She sits on the bed and says in a rather flirtatious manner, “I don’t know. You tell me.” Amelia bites her lower lip. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’m thinking of a few things right now,” I reply with the same energy, and I reach out to kiss her, but she slowly pulls away, pressing a hand on my lips.
“Not so fast, big guy.” She giggles.
“If you’re going to punish me, at least let me know what I’m being punished for.” I rub my palm over her soft thigh.
“You naughty boy.” She playfully taps my nose as I pull her to me, and I kiss the nape of her neck while sweet breath escapes her succulent lips.
“You said that I wasn’t ready.”
“You’re not,” I reply. “Not yet, at least.”
“Then make me ready.” She pushes me off her a little and leans in to kiss my chest down to my abs.
I grin as I kiss her lips before getting out of bed, leaving her wondering where I'm going. I open a drawer and take out a toy I bought for her, and her eyes widen.
“I was going to come give you this later, but I guess we can get started now.” I reveal the object in my hand: an oval-shaped crystal with a small handle.
“What’s that?” she asks, looking at it weirdly.
“It’s a butt plug,” I say as I return to the bed. “Come here.”
She crawls towards me on all fours, and the sight is nearly enough to have me on my knees, munching on her ass.
“Strip,” I say, my voice sounding hoarse.
She gets off the bed, loosens the fold of her towel, and lets it fall freely, welling at her feet.
I lick my lips, admiring the gorgeous naked body standing in front of me.
“Now, turn around and ass up in the air.”
My voice is strained as she lifts her perfectly formed ass in the air, exposing her beautiful pussy to my gaze.
She does as instructed, and I lean down to kiss her butt cheeks while spanking them. Her moans make me harder, and I lick her up to her waiting hole. I play with her for a while, making her want me. I can tell that her pussy is wet. But her pussy isn’t my target today.
I lick her butt hole, drooling over it until it became so slippery. Her ass is throbbing, waiting for my next move.
“I’m about to put it in now.”
“Please do,” she says amid moans. “I’m ready.”
Gently, I stick the toy into her ass with caution and precision. She gasps in a mix of pain and pleasure, and though I can't see her eyes, I know that they have bugged out wide as I penetrate her calmly.
She relaxes before long, and I slowly push the object deeper into her ass as she groans, squeezing against the sheets.
“Is it all in?” she inquires, struggling with the sweet pain surging through her whole body.
“Almost there,” I reply, pushing deeper, but with more caution. Soon, it is all in, and she trembles at the shock of its entrance.
I could feel her pain as her ass parted to accept the toy, but I had to do that in order to prepare her for what is to come.
With gentle movements, I fuck her ass, and she writhes in ecstasy. I notice her pain, even though she is enjoying it, and decide to take a break for a bit.
She tries to convince me to keep going, but I win this argument and gently pull out the plug. A heavy sigh of relief and satisfaction comes forth from her lips.
She lays down on the bed, stares at me, and asks, “I have always wondered. Why are you so irritable and always in the mood to say something abrasive?”
As she says that, memories come flashing back in my mind, and I stare at her emotionlessly. My heart throbs in my chest, and I suddenly feel that rage boiling again, but I can't lose my temper now. No, I can't.
My eyebrows knit in anger. I rise to my feet, combing my fingers through my hair. I see her subtly drooling over my height as she admires my buff body.
The realization of my mood snaps her out of that lust, and she asks, calmly, “Did I upset you? I didn't mean to. I just wanted to know why you act the way you do.” She sits up on the bed and wraps the towel around her again.
“No. You didn't upset me.” I manage to squeeze out a grin, massaging my temples.
She can tell that I am bothered by something, and that it has to do with what she had asked.
“Wanna talk about it?” Concern is evident in her look.
I stare at her in silence, brooding.
“All right. Good talk.” The sarcasm in her voice couldn't be any less subtle. She adds under her breath, “What was I thinking asking you to open up to me?”
“It's not like that,” I say. “You don't understand…”
“Then make me understand.” She rises and holds my hands. “You're obviously hurting, Tanner. Talking about your issues doesn't make you any less of a man.” She stares deeply into my eyes.
I hate this, talking about my issues, but she truly wants to know.
“It's dark inside my cupboard, Amelia.”
“Well…” She smiles broadly. “It's a good thing I have a flashlight.”
I chuckle at her light joke. She is making me too comfortable, and I don't like that…but it doesn't feel bad.
“You might think that you're broken, Tanner. But you're not.”
“How are you so sure?” I try to stall so that I can at least have some time to ready myself for a trip down memory lane.
“Because my father used to say…”
I knew her dad, so I wait patiently to hear which one of his words of wisdom she is about to quote.
“‘Just because something is broken…’”
I remember this quote, and smile as I say it in unison with her.
“‘... doesn't mean it can't be fixed. Just because something is lost, doesn't mean it can't be found.’”
She grins at me. “See? You can be fixed.”
Amelia takes my hand and sits on the bed. Then she taps the space beside her.
“Sit.”
I stay quiet for a moment as I think about it. It’s something I don’t like to talk about, and yet, everything screams at me to tell her all about it.
I sigh and sit beside her on the bed. My mouth opens, but I can't seem to find the right words. My mind suddenly goes blank, which is annoyingly ironic considering that just seconds ago my head was filled with those memories.
Now, I'm grasping for what to say and how to say it. My thoughts are disorganized, and my brain seems to have abandoned me.
“Hey.” Her palm rests on my cheek, and a dose of comfort hits me. “It's okay.” Her smile almost breaks down the wall that I've put up for years.
How is she doing that? I feel my heart melting at her touch, racing at her words, which are now soothing my wounds.
“My mother was a junkie.” I finally speak and a sigh comes forth.
“She constantly swore to give up her terrible habits so that we could be a happy family, but she never managed to do that.” I put my head down and allow my mind to travel through the corridors of time, back to when it all began for me.
I was thirteen.
I woke up that morning with hunger gnawing at the insides of my belly because I hadn't eaten the night before.
Mom had come home late again, past midnight, too tired and wasted. I hadn't made any food, and she yelled at me for being irresponsible. She called me names and blamed me for having to go to bed on an empty stomach…but there hadn’t been any groceries in the house, and there was no money to go to the convenience store.
I tried to tell her that, but she didn't listen. She pushed me out of her way and headed toward the couch in the living room, where she crashed.
I had been angry, and as always, I struggled to push it all down. I couldn't blame her. Right? It always made her awful, but she never stopped taking it. She was obviously high on that white stuff again. I just went upstairs to my room that night, angrily slamming my door shut behind me.
It wasn’t the first time I went to bed hungry.
I lay awake in bed for a while because I did not want to get up, but funny sounds from downstairs made me jump out of bed, worried.
I sneaked down the stairs to find my mom lying on the couch. She was the one making the funny sounds as a man with his pants down, revealing his bare butt, was grinding his waist over hers.
I halted by the staircase and called out softly. “Mom?” I was confused.
“Shit!” The man abruptly jumped off her, pulling up his pants and fixing his belt.
She quickly adjusted her flare skirt and smiled at me, guilt flickering in her gaze.
“Hey there, honey.” She was struggling to catch her breath as she piled her hair up and clipped it above her head.
I wondered when that man had come in, because I was certain that she had come home alone that night.
That wasn't the first time I caught her in one of those awkward positions with different men, all of whom had no regard for her. She was the grown-up and I was the child, but lately, it was beginning to feel like we had swapped places.
Why couldn't she see that these men were only leading her down a path of destruction? They had been giving her all sorts of stuff to take…especially that white stuff.
My mom was lovely…beautiful…and I used to be proud, because everyone called her pretty back when I used to go to school. I always had the best grades because I wanted her to come pick me up and get praised by my teachers more.
But ever since she started taking that white stuff, the only people who called her pretty gave her white stuff after she did disgusting things for them. I also stopped going to school.
I ignored her and that arrogant boyfriend of hers. Looking closely, I recognized him. He was the one she called Gary, the one whom I had witnessed hitting her. I had tried to intervene, but the beast hit me as well. My mom just didn't want to learn. She was addicted.
“Get your brat back to bed and let's get back to it.”
“Who are you calling ‘brat’?” I glared at him.
“Looks like you want some more of that beating, huh?” He marched toward me, pissed.
My mom intervened and begged him not to hit me, that I was only a kid.
He hissed and pushed her away as he stormed out of the house.
She sighed and slapped her forehead in bewilderment.
“I'm hungry,” I blurted out.
She walked up to me and squatted down to my level. “Listen, honey. I know things are bad, but I promise it'll be over soon.”
“You keep saying that. But it only keeps getting worse!” I snapped, almost losing my temper. “It's all because of that white stuff you keep taking. It's messing with you, Mom.”
She put her head down in shame. “I know, buddy.” She hugged me. “I'll try to stop. I'll try.” She sniffled and wiped her finger over her nose as she rose to her feet.
I knew she was too addicted to stop, so I decided that morning to put an end to all of it.
She spent most of the money she had on that stuff, and that was why we were always so broke and couldn’t buy food. It was why she was always sick no matter how much I took care of her. At first, I had been worried and scared because I loved her so much, but these days I was just so angry…
I had to do something. I had to stop it before that stuff made me hate my mom, or worse, took her from me.
Two days after that talk, I ransacked Mom's room in her absence and found all of the white stuff. I gathered it all and flushed it down the toilet.
When she got home and realized that her stuff wasn't where she hid it, she questioned me. I denied it, but she could see right through my lies.
The next couple of days were bad…so bad. Mom started to go mad. She was always on the phone, yelling and begging amid sobs. She was always shivering in a fever, and her hands were constantly shaking. Her skin was so, so pale, and she even ripped her hair out.
All that time, she couldn't even look at me, nor was she speaking to me. I did my best to help her like I used to when I was younger. Nursing her at night, wiping her face with a wet towel…but it was different this time. She was angry. She was going to hurt me.
It came as a shock when she got off a call one of those days and politely asked me to get dressed. It was the first time she had looked at me since that incident. It was the first time she had spoken to me without yelling.
I did as she instructed, unsure of where we were going. I asked her, but she replied that we were going to see a friend.
She parked in front of a weird building and glanced at me with a sheepish smile.
“What is this place?” I inquired, looking at the building.
She ignored me and said, “Come on, let's go.”
We walked inside and were led to some sort of basement by a big, burly man. As we climbed down the stairs, I could hear muffled noises that were gradually becoming louder as we drew closer. We got to a red door and two huge men stopped us.
“I'm here to see Slim Tee,” she said to them.
The men exchanged glances and asked, “Are you here with the merchandise?”
She nodded, and they looked at me as I held on to her hand. With a scoff, one of them opened the door and all that noise, muffled behind the closed door, now blasted my eardrums.
The place reeked of sweat, and the air was loud with cheers of gamblers. There was a cage where two people were fighting, and I watched the weaker one get knocked down. But the other guy didn't stop. He continued to drill punches into his opponent's face until he was no longer moving.
The crowd was cheering him on, chanting his name. I swallowed in fear, wondering what my mom was doing here.
We walked into an office, where we could see the fighting cage through the floor-to-ceiling glass window.
There was a very huge man sitting in his chair behind the table across the office. His bodyguards were equally as huge.
“Miranda,” he called my mom’s name with a cigar in his mouth.
“Slim Tee.” She halted before him.
I wondered why they referred to him as Slim Tee when he was the exact opposite. When the guards outside the red door had mentioned his name, I had thought that he would be a very lanky guy. I was wrong.
“Do you have my money?” she asked impatiently.
“Miranda…” He released a puff of smoke. “Always in a hurry.” Slim Tee got to his feet and went around the table. “I haven't even tested the merchandise yet.” He chuckled.
“I'm telling you, he's everything you want and more,” she said through gritted teeth as she led him away from me.
I watched them converse in private for a while, and it looked like she was trying to convince him to buy something that was selling. But she didn't have anything to sell.
“Look, he might be little, but trust me, he basically runs everything at home. He'll be useful… And look at him…isn’t he pretty? He can be useful for other things too…”
I wondered who it was that my mom was talking about.
Slim Tee frowned and glared at my mother. “He is pretty, but that’s of no use to me at all. Unfortunately for you, I’m not that kind of man. If anything, it’s unfortunate he’s so pretty. Such a face won’t survive here.”
Mom reared back under the intensity of his glare. It seemed her attempt at upselling did not work in her favor. She resorted to begging again.
“Please. I need the money.” Her voice shook. “He’s stronger than he looks…”
My eyes widened when Slim Tee laughed and nodded at one of his men, who immediately opened a briefcase and took out a bundle of cash.
He handed it over to his boss, and the latter counted it as my mom shook, fixing her impatient gaze on the money.
Money was good…but I didn't like what was happening because if he gave Mom the money, she was only going to spend it to get more of that white stuff.
“It's a thousand dollars.” He handed it over to her.
She stretched out to accept it with trembling fingers, but he pulled away.
“Remember, you're not to return.”
“Yes, yes. I understand,” she replied anxiously, without taking her eyes off the cash in his hand.
He handed it to her.
“Thank you, thank you.” She grabbed the money and started counting it herself.
“No, don't give her that! It's too much!” I ran toward them, but Slim Tee’s men held me down.
“Oh, you think you're worth less?” Slim Tee chuckled.
I struggled with the men, throwing kicks in the air. I sank my teeth into the large arm of the man holding me from behind and he winced, cursing as he let go of me.
The second one came at me, but I kicked him in the balls, forcing him to double over in pain. But before I could take another step forward, the previous man seized me by the hair and yanked me up, making me scream as I flailed in the air.
“Hey, easy with the merchandise,” Slim Tee cautioned. He looked impressed by my resilience.
“Merchandise?” I whispered to myself.
“I told you he was useful.” Mom glanced at me, and my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces.
“Mom?” I pleaded with my eyes, unable to comprehend why she would do this.
It all made sense to me now. I realized that she'd sold me to this man for a thousand dollars.
“Mom?” My eyes welled up with tears.
She turned to me and froze as she met my gaze.
The money was still in her hand. She could give it back. I willed her to give it back. It didn’t work.
Mom looked away from me and sniffed, her eyes going back to the money as she shook her head, as though she was getting rid of the idea of taking me back.
She stuffed the money into her purse.
“I believe our business is completed.”
She shuddered and hesitated before saying with a breaking voice, “Yes…”
“Remember, do not come back.”
She swallowed. “I understand, Slim Tee.”
“Mom!” I called out after her as she wiped her tears and walked out of the office.
She stopped by the door and took one last look at me. My tears were already dropping. She sniffled, wiped a hand over her watery eyes, and left me there.
She sold me off like I was a piece of property that she was no longer in need of. I was betrayed by my own mother.
How could she sell me, her only child, just because she couldn't control herself, because of her addiction? It was all so illogical…
I hated people who were illogical…irresponsible…stupid... They had a way of getting under my skin.
Amelia gasps, staring at me with wide eyes.
“I learned how to fight in there, but it wasn’t just the physical fights. People could put you down with their words until you found it difficult to lift a fist,” I explain. “That was me until I decided I couldn’t do that anymore, and so, I developed a thick skin and a sharp mouth, and became the very thing they used to keep me down.”
I sigh. “No one can bring me down anymore, not before I cut you into pieces with my words or with my fists.”
Amelia sniffles and I frown, realizing that she has begun to tear up. For me?
“I didn’t tell you so you could get all sentimental on me,” I grumble, feeling odd.
“I’m so sorry you went through all of that. You deserved so much better,” she says, the sadness very clear in her voice.
“Yes, well,” I go back to my task of loosening her up. “Don’t worry about it.”
“How can I not?” She sounds so sympathetic.
I smack her ass hard, making her yelp and taking away from the moment.
“Tanner!” she yells.
I smile a bit, happy to hear the tinge of anger in her voice. “If you’re that worried about me, focus on loosening your ass so that I can feel better by fucking you.”
She gasps at my crude words and begins to murmur angrily under her breath.
I cough to clear my throat, strangely touched by her concern, even though it happened so long ago.
Careful, or she will warm your cold heart.