These will be some one shots that I've written and posted to Mibba. I'll add them here and there so people have time to read. Each one will have a short summary preceding it =).
***
No One Can Touch Us
Jimmy Sullivan has not had an easy life. He was kicked out of his home at the age of 16, disowned by his father, and has been kicked out of every school he's ever attended. But he found love and family in Madison Califax, one of Huntington Beach's most notorious, most wanted drug dealers. She took him in and as long as he does what she says, he has a great life.
“How did we do last night?” a groggy, raspy female voice asked. The dark haired woman sat up from her spot stretched out on the couch, and looked at her boyfriend. Though she was athletically built, her face was drawn and sunken in. “We must’ve done well, from what I remember.”
“We did,” her boyfriend responded, as he hugged her close. They were thin enough to both fit comfortably on the couch, and she turned to kiss him. His blue eyes were dull, his black hair a rat’s nest on his head. “We brought in over three grand last night, baby. If we keep this up, we can start to spread our business out a little.”
“Mmm,” she agreed, as she kissed him again. Their tongues fought for dominance but as usual, he won. She pulled away a few moments later, causing him to groan. “I think we’d better get going. I’m hungry and I want these oafs out of my house.”
She kicked the nearest body, which groaned and sat up. Madison Califax had enough control over this house that no more warning was needed. The five dead-looking bodies got up and left, leaving money on the table, groaning as they moved into the bright sunlight of the early morning, no doubt to find another place to crash. She cared little for what happened to them when they left here; they were low paying customers, and she could live without them.
To the uninformed outsider, the home looked like all the others on the block: a white two story, with a well cared for lawn, flower gardens, bushes, and trees. There was a small porch on the front with the house number and a black metal mailbox, and even a little statue of a dog beside the welcome mat. No one would imagine what goes on inside this home. The trees and bushes surrounding it, so much like the other homes on the block, provided good cover for the job the occupants hold.
If one were to enter the home, however, the outside façade would soon fade away into the truth. The inside was dingy and had an unidentifiable odor to it; one would think no one in home had bathed in some time and perhaps there was a slight smell of urine and vomit. The carpet was almost black from the smoke that hung thick in the air and it wasn’t all from the cigarettes dangling from the mouths of the occupants. They had learned long ago to plant odor covering flowers so the evidence wouldn’t drift outside.
Scattered on a coffee table in the living room were mirrors, dusty with white powder, papers half filled with various substances, and half-smoked joints. The floor was littered with ashes and trash, and a few bodies that looked dead, but once in a while still took a breath. The scene was almost straight out of a movie, except this was no movie; this was life.
***
“So, what are we doing today?” Jimmy Sullivan asked, as he moved into the kitchen. When his parents kicked him out, he’d had an immediate and permanent home with Madison, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world. “I need to make some Tabs today, before we sell tonight.”
“I was planning a day in. We need to make stuff before tonight, because our supplies are running low. I’m going to make a couple batches of the good stuff for the high paying customers, and then some regular batches for everyone else.”
“Same here. I want some liquid LSD, because I haven’t tripped in a while and I need a good one right about now,” he lamented, as he put together a batch of waffles. He added blueberries and then started cooking. “We should get groceries, too, while we’re sober.”
“Are we that low?” she asked, putting together some fresh-squeezed orange juice. For all intents and purposes, they looked like a normal couple; except for the fact that Madison was three years older than Jimmy. “I hadn’t planned to go out today; I look like shit.”
Jimmy smiled, snaking his arms around her, waiting for the first two waffles to be done. “You are always beautiful, Madison, I promise. Now, I’ll get groceries today and you can stay here and make what we need, deal?”
She nodded, bringing him into a heated kiss for a few seconds. When the waffle iron signaled done, they parted and finished their breakfast tasks. It was normal for them to have breakfast every morning, sometimes out and most times in. Most mornings, they weren’t fit for being seen in public and Jimmy was always afraid he was going to run into his parents.
“Once we eat, I’m off to shop. Then, I’ll come back and get ready for tonight. Be thinking of any special requests you have for me while I’m gone,” he told her, cutting into his waffle. It was the perfect morning after food, they’d found, and helped the inevitable hangovers they had. “I want you to save me some of the good stuff.”
“You don’t even have to ask,” she assured him, taking a drink of her juice. The kitchen, compared to the rest of the house, was spotless. They put a lot of hard work into it, because it was their drug kitchen as well. They viewed drug prep as seriously as food prep and refused to cook in a dirty kitchen. “I’ll always have a few grams of the good stuff for you.”
He nodded, finishing his meal, and taking his dishes to the dishwasher. They owned the house together, and he was eager to get their mortgage paid for. Madison assured him it was only one payment away, but he was anxious, because once it was paid off, they could focus their money elsewhere, namely by expanding their territory. The more people selling for them and in more areas, the more money they made.
“I’m out honey,” he said, kissing her. She smiled, and when they drew back, she gave him a gentle shove toward the door. “I won’t be gone too long.”
With that, he walked out of the house and headed for his car. He wanted to visit some friends while he was out as well, as it wasn’t always easy to get away from Madison. She liked to keep him and close and while it usually didn’t bother him, it drove his friends bonkers, and he was going to head out and see them today before he got groceries.
***
“That took a while,” Madison commented, clearly disappointed, as they hauled the plastic bags inside. He noticed that she’d been cleaning, as the carpet was actually clean for a change. The house seemed to smell better as well, and he wondered what she’d done while he was gone; they rarely bothered cleaning. “Did you go see your friends?”
He swallowed before answering; should he lie? He took a deep breath, then forged ahead. “Yeah,” he admitted, placing the sacks on the counter. Most of his friends were graduating high school this spring, and from there, he knew they were going to take off in a band. He was in the band as well, and surprisingly, Madison supported them. “We’re having band practice again on Saturday night, if you want to come.”
She fixed him with an icy glare, which spoke volumes. “Before selling time I trust.”
He nodded, putting the canned goods in careful stacks in the small pantry by the fridge. He waited to hear Madison’s noise of discontent that she made, but it never came. Instead, she pulled him toward the counter and slapped him.
“I will let you have your practice this Saturday, James, but if it happens again, you’re going to be homeless.”
Her eyes were on fire with anger and her tone menacing. She’d been snorting and that exacerbated her anger; he’d crossed a line with her. His friends knew better than to plan a Saturday practice; that was his biggest selling night and made the most money. Selling started at sundown in Central Park, as opposed to their usual selling days. Normally, they’d sell all day at the house and through email. Email was a new way of selling, but it was catching on, and Madison was going to use everything at her disposal to make money.
“Of course. I’ll remind Matt,” he whispered, resisting the urge to rub his bruising cheek. If he did that, she’d just fine a reason for a worse beating later, and he wanted to avoid that. “Did you still need to make the Tabs?”
She nodded, caressing his cheek lovingly, which caused him to flinch briefly; she was almost bi-polar when she was high. Anger flared in her eyes and flickered out as fast. He kept his head down as he went to his lab in the basement and started working. He needed to work fast since he’d spent more time with his friends than he’d planned and they would start street sales in another two hours. No doubt, he would not be having supper tonight.
By the time Madison stormed into his lab, he was finally done. He’d made enough to sell tonight and knew that before he went to band practice tomorrow, he’d have to make more. The Tabs were popular, and he always delivered a high like no other dealer in Huntington Beach. It was said that, to look at one’s face in the mirror after one of Jimmy’s Tabs was so frightening, people would be left crying for weeks.
“Let’s go,” Madison said tersely, and Jimmy knew he was in dutch tonight. They gathered their supplies and moved out of the house, making sure to stick to their secure, back road route to the park. “You need to make at least a grand off that shit tonight or you don’t get any for a week.”
He nodded, because saying anything would just get him in further trouble with her. What he wanted to tell her was that he had a bad feeling about tonight, but knew that she would never listen to him when she was angry. Before she’d come downstairs, he’d slipped a Tab on his tongue and knew the high would start kicking in soon. With luck, the best part of it wouldn’t come until they were done selling.
“We’re late, James,” she snarled and gripped his arm hard enough to bruise. “You have customers waiting; don’t disappoint me.”
He nodded again, afraid to incur her wrath any further. Greeting his frequent customers with a smile, he started making exchanges, careful to pocket the cash and hand things over before he could get caught. He kept a cautious eye out for the cops, always paranoid they were going to get caught. His high was getting better, and he had to concentrate on his sales and not the streetlight nearby.
“Pigs!”
That was the signal they all feared; the cops were coming. Jimmy quickly finished his transaction and pocketed the cash before running. They’d had so many close calls and tonight was no different, as he and Madison ran for the their lives; if they got, they wouldn’t see the light of day for several years. Jimmy ran, the sidewalk heaving and warping under his feet, and he stumbled, working to keep up with his girlfriend. When they reached their house, they nearly broke down the back door to get inside.
“That was too damn close,” she panted, slamming and working the four dead bolts. Two customers had followed them in and were directed to the living room. “How much did you make before we got busted?”
Jimmy’s hands shook as he counted the distorted money in front of him, hoping he was counting correctly. If he was even slightly low, no matter what, Madison was libel to kill him. As he counted, he watched her snorting his beloved white powder, which she’d promised to share.
“Want some? Then make sure you counted that right. I know you got high before we went out tonight, so if you’re wrong, it’s your fault and you won’t get anything for a week.”
He counted the money five times, wishing it would stay stationary, as the high started to climax. He got the same total four times and checked it four more times. He finally felt confident enough to tell Madison the total. She was on her fourth line of cocaine and she turned to him with disdain in her eyes.
“How much?”
He swallowed, knowing what was coming, but he was honest, because lying would be even worse. His blue eyes met her green ones, and he knew he was done.
“James?”
He gulped as he handed her the cash, knowing there would be no commission tonight.
“I made $999,” he admitted, quietly. Her upper lip pulled back in a snarl and he closed his eyes waiting for the blow.
“So you didn’t make enough for tonight like you thought?” she asked, and shook him until he opened his eyes. Her face was frightening, as her eyes bulged and strange shapes swirled over her cheeks. He shook his head, wondering what his punishment would be. She was mean when she was high and he could smell the whiskey she’d been drinking earlier on her breath. “Well, James, what should I do to you? Should I get out the whip? Should I overdose you and leave you on the lawn for the neighbors to find? Send you back to your parents?”
He said nothing. None of those were good options, but none was worse than going back to his parents. He waited, watching as Madison paced in front of him. He knew it was going to be bad whatever it was, and he was fully prepared to get kicked out.
“James, stand up,” she said, and left the room. From the stairway, she issued her order and he resisted the urge to run. “I want you naked when I get back.”
Rather than argue and make it worse for himself, he stripped off and folded his clothes neatly on a nearby lamp table. After, he stood in the middle of the living room, goose bumps rising on his skin as he waited for the pain. When he heard the bottom step creak, he tensed and a few seconds later, the first white-hot pain lashed through his abdomen and he bit his bottom lip as the whip crack echoed in the room.
***
That Saturday night, after band practice, Jimmy stood once again with Madison, moving around the park. They had decided that being stationary had made them too obvious, and they didn’t need any more close calls. He’d made triple the LSD he normally made and Madison had said if he made up for his Friday night losses, she’d make up the abuse that night. Therefore, he was working extra hard to sell everything he had, even offering his frequent fliers a slight discount to get them to buy more.
The end of the night was lucrative for him; he’d made his grand and more, and he and Madison started the walk home. There had been no close calls tonight, and on their secure route, completely sober, Jimmy told her the happy news of his sales.
“Good for you. Tonight will be a good night for you, then,” she promised, with a gleam of happiness in her eye. This was his girlfriend: controlling and abusive one day and the next she was most beautiful, pleasant person you’d ever met. “When we get inside, you go shower and clean up and I’ll have something special waiting for you.”
He smiled, taking her hand, wondering what boundaries he had right now. Could he kiss her again? He knew she’d lead the way and sure enough, just inside the back door, she kissed him.
“Go clean up, honey, and then come to the living room.”
He nodded, handing her the cash he’d made and hurried up the stairs. He knew she was going to give him tonight what she’d withheld last night, and he was eager. He’d stayed sober just for this, and he wanted it to be worth it. If he was right, she had the good shit, as she called it, ready for him and he needed it. Band practice had been stressful, with the questions the guys asked when he moved stiffly or flinched at their touch. He couldn’t let on about the abuse, because they’d try to intervene. Madison did not take kindly to her property being messed with and his friends did not need to go through that.
“Are you ready?” she asked, as he came downstairs wearing nothing more than a pair of basketball shorts. He nodded, as she took him into her arms, tongues battling for dominance. He won and made the most of the contact, knowing that they were only getting started. “You’ve been naughty, Jimmy. I think I need to punish you.”
“Then punish me,” he begged her, the only time punishment sounded pleasurable.
They went into their bedroom, and Madison promptly tied him to the bed, causing him to grin. When she emerged from the bathroom, in a black, tight fitting leather bodice, he knew he was in for a night he’d never forget.
***
Things went well for Jimmy and Madison until a few months later. Jimmy had crossed no more boundaries with her, and the abuse was gone for now. But it would never be gone for good, and Madison showed a rare side of herself to Jimmy on a particularly bad Friday night.
“Pigs!”
The signal was sounded and everyone started running. Jimmy was in the middle of a transaction and hurriedly finished it before turning and running, shoving the LSD and cocaine packets into his pockets, making sure he had the joints and baggies of weed, and making sure the 8balls he’d made were safe as well. He darted for the secure trail only to be tackled at the entrance. He screamed for Madison, as he fought the officers arresting him, attempting to free himself. He couldn’t go to jail, there was no way in hell.
“Jimmy!” a voice shouted, and he tried to break free as he was dragged kicking and screaming to a squad car. “I’ll be down shortly!”
His world crumbled before his eyes as he was searched and the drugs confiscated. He knew his life was over when Madison got him bailed out, because he’d broken her cardinal rule: don’t get caught. The cops sped away with him, and he tried to remain calm, but the last hit of cocaine he’d taken was wearing off, and reality was setting in.
Once he was booked, he learned what his bail was and used his phone call to alert Madison. She said she’d be down with the money and $2,000 later he was on his way home, with a court date for the next morning. The ride home was tense, and he wondered what she was planning. She’d never been caught and this was his first time; was she angry or would she be forgiving?
“Well,” she started, when they walked in the door. In the two hours he’d been in jail, she’d cleaned the entire house, and no a trace of their activities remained. Any person could walk in and find an ordinary house in an ordinary neighborhood. “You broke my cardinal rule, Jimmy: don’t get caught.”
He made no sound or movement, because he knew better. He didn’t need to acknowledge what he’d done; he simply had to accept his punishment. He watched his girlfriend as she moved around the house, clearly out of place in the spotless environment. Despite having a fake ID on him for moments like this, she knew that eventually, they might be found out, and so did Jimmy.
“Strip.”
He wanted to protest, but he knew better. When she came back downstairs with her whip, he was stark naked, standing in the dark. The first crack sounded, slashing his stomach, but he didn’t react, even though his eyes burned with tears.
“Now, are you ever going to get caught again?” she asked, slashing his right thigh.
“No,” he said, his voice strong.
“What’s our cardinal rule?” His left thigh split open.
“Don’t get caught.”
She caught his back next, but he never flinched.
“What’s our motto?”
She clipped his right upper arm, as he bit his bottom lip, looking right into her hazel eyes.
“No one can touch us.”
“No one can touch us, Jimmy, no one. You remember that. Not the cops, not your friends, no one.”
He nodded, as the whip cracked again.
***
No One Can Touch Us
Jimmy Sullivan has not had an easy life. He was kicked out of his home at the age of 16, disowned by his father, and has been kicked out of every school he's ever attended. But he found love and family in Madison Califax, one of Huntington Beach's most notorious, most wanted drug dealers. She took him in and as long as he does what she says, he has a great life.
“How did we do last night?” a groggy, raspy female voice asked. The dark haired woman sat up from her spot stretched out on the couch, and looked at her boyfriend. Though she was athletically built, her face was drawn and sunken in. “We must’ve done well, from what I remember.”
“We did,” her boyfriend responded, as he hugged her close. They were thin enough to both fit comfortably on the couch, and she turned to kiss him. His blue eyes were dull, his black hair a rat’s nest on his head. “We brought in over three grand last night, baby. If we keep this up, we can start to spread our business out a little.”
“Mmm,” she agreed, as she kissed him again. Their tongues fought for dominance but as usual, he won. She pulled away a few moments later, causing him to groan. “I think we’d better get going. I’m hungry and I want these oafs out of my house.”
She kicked the nearest body, which groaned and sat up. Madison Califax had enough control over this house that no more warning was needed. The five dead-looking bodies got up and left, leaving money on the table, groaning as they moved into the bright sunlight of the early morning, no doubt to find another place to crash. She cared little for what happened to them when they left here; they were low paying customers, and she could live without them.
To the uninformed outsider, the home looked like all the others on the block: a white two story, with a well cared for lawn, flower gardens, bushes, and trees. There was a small porch on the front with the house number and a black metal mailbox, and even a little statue of a dog beside the welcome mat. No one would imagine what goes on inside this home. The trees and bushes surrounding it, so much like the other homes on the block, provided good cover for the job the occupants hold.
If one were to enter the home, however, the outside façade would soon fade away into the truth. The inside was dingy and had an unidentifiable odor to it; one would think no one in home had bathed in some time and perhaps there was a slight smell of urine and vomit. The carpet was almost black from the smoke that hung thick in the air and it wasn’t all from the cigarettes dangling from the mouths of the occupants. They had learned long ago to plant odor covering flowers so the evidence wouldn’t drift outside.
Scattered on a coffee table in the living room were mirrors, dusty with white powder, papers half filled with various substances, and half-smoked joints. The floor was littered with ashes and trash, and a few bodies that looked dead, but once in a while still took a breath. The scene was almost straight out of a movie, except this was no movie; this was life.
***
“So, what are we doing today?” Jimmy Sullivan asked, as he moved into the kitchen. When his parents kicked him out, he’d had an immediate and permanent home with Madison, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world. “I need to make some Tabs today, before we sell tonight.”
“I was planning a day in. We need to make stuff before tonight, because our supplies are running low. I’m going to make a couple batches of the good stuff for the high paying customers, and then some regular batches for everyone else.”
“Same here. I want some liquid LSD, because I haven’t tripped in a while and I need a good one right about now,” he lamented, as he put together a batch of waffles. He added blueberries and then started cooking. “We should get groceries, too, while we’re sober.”
“Are we that low?” she asked, putting together some fresh-squeezed orange juice. For all intents and purposes, they looked like a normal couple; except for the fact that Madison was three years older than Jimmy. “I hadn’t planned to go out today; I look like shit.”
Jimmy smiled, snaking his arms around her, waiting for the first two waffles to be done. “You are always beautiful, Madison, I promise. Now, I’ll get groceries today and you can stay here and make what we need, deal?”
She nodded, bringing him into a heated kiss for a few seconds. When the waffle iron signaled done, they parted and finished their breakfast tasks. It was normal for them to have breakfast every morning, sometimes out and most times in. Most mornings, they weren’t fit for being seen in public and Jimmy was always afraid he was going to run into his parents.
“Once we eat, I’m off to shop. Then, I’ll come back and get ready for tonight. Be thinking of any special requests you have for me while I’m gone,” he told her, cutting into his waffle. It was the perfect morning after food, they’d found, and helped the inevitable hangovers they had. “I want you to save me some of the good stuff.”
“You don’t even have to ask,” she assured him, taking a drink of her juice. The kitchen, compared to the rest of the house, was spotless. They put a lot of hard work into it, because it was their drug kitchen as well. They viewed drug prep as seriously as food prep and refused to cook in a dirty kitchen. “I’ll always have a few grams of the good stuff for you.”
He nodded, finishing his meal, and taking his dishes to the dishwasher. They owned the house together, and he was eager to get their mortgage paid for. Madison assured him it was only one payment away, but he was anxious, because once it was paid off, they could focus their money elsewhere, namely by expanding their territory. The more people selling for them and in more areas, the more money they made.
“I’m out honey,” he said, kissing her. She smiled, and when they drew back, she gave him a gentle shove toward the door. “I won’t be gone too long.”
With that, he walked out of the house and headed for his car. He wanted to visit some friends while he was out as well, as it wasn’t always easy to get away from Madison. She liked to keep him and close and while it usually didn’t bother him, it drove his friends bonkers, and he was going to head out and see them today before he got groceries.
***
“That took a while,” Madison commented, clearly disappointed, as they hauled the plastic bags inside. He noticed that she’d been cleaning, as the carpet was actually clean for a change. The house seemed to smell better as well, and he wondered what she’d done while he was gone; they rarely bothered cleaning. “Did you go see your friends?”
He swallowed before answering; should he lie? He took a deep breath, then forged ahead. “Yeah,” he admitted, placing the sacks on the counter. Most of his friends were graduating high school this spring, and from there, he knew they were going to take off in a band. He was in the band as well, and surprisingly, Madison supported them. “We’re having band practice again on Saturday night, if you want to come.”
She fixed him with an icy glare, which spoke volumes. “Before selling time I trust.”
He nodded, putting the canned goods in careful stacks in the small pantry by the fridge. He waited to hear Madison’s noise of discontent that she made, but it never came. Instead, she pulled him toward the counter and slapped him.
“I will let you have your practice this Saturday, James, but if it happens again, you’re going to be homeless.”
Her eyes were on fire with anger and her tone menacing. She’d been snorting and that exacerbated her anger; he’d crossed a line with her. His friends knew better than to plan a Saturday practice; that was his biggest selling night and made the most money. Selling started at sundown in Central Park, as opposed to their usual selling days. Normally, they’d sell all day at the house and through email. Email was a new way of selling, but it was catching on, and Madison was going to use everything at her disposal to make money.
“Of course. I’ll remind Matt,” he whispered, resisting the urge to rub his bruising cheek. If he did that, she’d just fine a reason for a worse beating later, and he wanted to avoid that. “Did you still need to make the Tabs?”
She nodded, caressing his cheek lovingly, which caused him to flinch briefly; she was almost bi-polar when she was high. Anger flared in her eyes and flickered out as fast. He kept his head down as he went to his lab in the basement and started working. He needed to work fast since he’d spent more time with his friends than he’d planned and they would start street sales in another two hours. No doubt, he would not be having supper tonight.
By the time Madison stormed into his lab, he was finally done. He’d made enough to sell tonight and knew that before he went to band practice tomorrow, he’d have to make more. The Tabs were popular, and he always delivered a high like no other dealer in Huntington Beach. It was said that, to look at one’s face in the mirror after one of Jimmy’s Tabs was so frightening, people would be left crying for weeks.
“Let’s go,” Madison said tersely, and Jimmy knew he was in dutch tonight. They gathered their supplies and moved out of the house, making sure to stick to their secure, back road route to the park. “You need to make at least a grand off that shit tonight or you don’t get any for a week.”
He nodded, because saying anything would just get him in further trouble with her. What he wanted to tell her was that he had a bad feeling about tonight, but knew that she would never listen to him when she was angry. Before she’d come downstairs, he’d slipped a Tab on his tongue and knew the high would start kicking in soon. With luck, the best part of it wouldn’t come until they were done selling.
“We’re late, James,” she snarled and gripped his arm hard enough to bruise. “You have customers waiting; don’t disappoint me.”
He nodded again, afraid to incur her wrath any further. Greeting his frequent customers with a smile, he started making exchanges, careful to pocket the cash and hand things over before he could get caught. He kept a cautious eye out for the cops, always paranoid they were going to get caught. His high was getting better, and he had to concentrate on his sales and not the streetlight nearby.
“Pigs!”
That was the signal they all feared; the cops were coming. Jimmy quickly finished his transaction and pocketed the cash before running. They’d had so many close calls and tonight was no different, as he and Madison ran for the their lives; if they got, they wouldn’t see the light of day for several years. Jimmy ran, the sidewalk heaving and warping under his feet, and he stumbled, working to keep up with his girlfriend. When they reached their house, they nearly broke down the back door to get inside.
“That was too damn close,” she panted, slamming and working the four dead bolts. Two customers had followed them in and were directed to the living room. “How much did you make before we got busted?”
Jimmy’s hands shook as he counted the distorted money in front of him, hoping he was counting correctly. If he was even slightly low, no matter what, Madison was libel to kill him. As he counted, he watched her snorting his beloved white powder, which she’d promised to share.
“Want some? Then make sure you counted that right. I know you got high before we went out tonight, so if you’re wrong, it’s your fault and you won’t get anything for a week.”
He counted the money five times, wishing it would stay stationary, as the high started to climax. He got the same total four times and checked it four more times. He finally felt confident enough to tell Madison the total. She was on her fourth line of cocaine and she turned to him with disdain in her eyes.
“How much?”
He swallowed, knowing what was coming, but he was honest, because lying would be even worse. His blue eyes met her green ones, and he knew he was done.
“James?”
He gulped as he handed her the cash, knowing there would be no commission tonight.
“I made $999,” he admitted, quietly. Her upper lip pulled back in a snarl and he closed his eyes waiting for the blow.
“So you didn’t make enough for tonight like you thought?” she asked, and shook him until he opened his eyes. Her face was frightening, as her eyes bulged and strange shapes swirled over her cheeks. He shook his head, wondering what his punishment would be. She was mean when she was high and he could smell the whiskey she’d been drinking earlier on her breath. “Well, James, what should I do to you? Should I get out the whip? Should I overdose you and leave you on the lawn for the neighbors to find? Send you back to your parents?”
He said nothing. None of those were good options, but none was worse than going back to his parents. He waited, watching as Madison paced in front of him. He knew it was going to be bad whatever it was, and he was fully prepared to get kicked out.
“James, stand up,” she said, and left the room. From the stairway, she issued her order and he resisted the urge to run. “I want you naked when I get back.”
Rather than argue and make it worse for himself, he stripped off and folded his clothes neatly on a nearby lamp table. After, he stood in the middle of the living room, goose bumps rising on his skin as he waited for the pain. When he heard the bottom step creak, he tensed and a few seconds later, the first white-hot pain lashed through his abdomen and he bit his bottom lip as the whip crack echoed in the room.
***
That Saturday night, after band practice, Jimmy stood once again with Madison, moving around the park. They had decided that being stationary had made them too obvious, and they didn’t need any more close calls. He’d made triple the LSD he normally made and Madison had said if he made up for his Friday night losses, she’d make up the abuse that night. Therefore, he was working extra hard to sell everything he had, even offering his frequent fliers a slight discount to get them to buy more.
The end of the night was lucrative for him; he’d made his grand and more, and he and Madison started the walk home. There had been no close calls tonight, and on their secure route, completely sober, Jimmy told her the happy news of his sales.
“Good for you. Tonight will be a good night for you, then,” she promised, with a gleam of happiness in her eye. This was his girlfriend: controlling and abusive one day and the next she was most beautiful, pleasant person you’d ever met. “When we get inside, you go shower and clean up and I’ll have something special waiting for you.”
He smiled, taking her hand, wondering what boundaries he had right now. Could he kiss her again? He knew she’d lead the way and sure enough, just inside the back door, she kissed him.
“Go clean up, honey, and then come to the living room.”
He nodded, handing her the cash he’d made and hurried up the stairs. He knew she was going to give him tonight what she’d withheld last night, and he was eager. He’d stayed sober just for this, and he wanted it to be worth it. If he was right, she had the good shit, as she called it, ready for him and he needed it. Band practice had been stressful, with the questions the guys asked when he moved stiffly or flinched at their touch. He couldn’t let on about the abuse, because they’d try to intervene. Madison did not take kindly to her property being messed with and his friends did not need to go through that.
“Are you ready?” she asked, as he came downstairs wearing nothing more than a pair of basketball shorts. He nodded, as she took him into her arms, tongues battling for dominance. He won and made the most of the contact, knowing that they were only getting started. “You’ve been naughty, Jimmy. I think I need to punish you.”
“Then punish me,” he begged her, the only time punishment sounded pleasurable.
They went into their bedroom, and Madison promptly tied him to the bed, causing him to grin. When she emerged from the bathroom, in a black, tight fitting leather bodice, he knew he was in for a night he’d never forget.
***
Things went well for Jimmy and Madison until a few months later. Jimmy had crossed no more boundaries with her, and the abuse was gone for now. But it would never be gone for good, and Madison showed a rare side of herself to Jimmy on a particularly bad Friday night.
“Pigs!”
The signal was sounded and everyone started running. Jimmy was in the middle of a transaction and hurriedly finished it before turning and running, shoving the LSD and cocaine packets into his pockets, making sure he had the joints and baggies of weed, and making sure the 8balls he’d made were safe as well. He darted for the secure trail only to be tackled at the entrance. He screamed for Madison, as he fought the officers arresting him, attempting to free himself. He couldn’t go to jail, there was no way in hell.
“Jimmy!” a voice shouted, and he tried to break free as he was dragged kicking and screaming to a squad car. “I’ll be down shortly!”
His world crumbled before his eyes as he was searched and the drugs confiscated. He knew his life was over when Madison got him bailed out, because he’d broken her cardinal rule: don’t get caught. The cops sped away with him, and he tried to remain calm, but the last hit of cocaine he’d taken was wearing off, and reality was setting in.
Once he was booked, he learned what his bail was and used his phone call to alert Madison. She said she’d be down with the money and $2,000 later he was on his way home, with a court date for the next morning. The ride home was tense, and he wondered what she was planning. She’d never been caught and this was his first time; was she angry or would she be forgiving?
“Well,” she started, when they walked in the door. In the two hours he’d been in jail, she’d cleaned the entire house, and no a trace of their activities remained. Any person could walk in and find an ordinary house in an ordinary neighborhood. “You broke my cardinal rule, Jimmy: don’t get caught.”
He made no sound or movement, because he knew better. He didn’t need to acknowledge what he’d done; he simply had to accept his punishment. He watched his girlfriend as she moved around the house, clearly out of place in the spotless environment. Despite having a fake ID on him for moments like this, she knew that eventually, they might be found out, and so did Jimmy.
“Strip.”
He wanted to protest, but he knew better. When she came back downstairs with her whip, he was stark naked, standing in the dark. The first crack sounded, slashing his stomach, but he didn’t react, even though his eyes burned with tears.
“Now, are you ever going to get caught again?” she asked, slashing his right thigh.
“No,” he said, his voice strong.
“What’s our cardinal rule?” His left thigh split open.
“Don’t get caught.”
She caught his back next, but he never flinched.
“What’s our motto?”
She clipped his right upper arm, as he bit his bottom lip, looking right into her hazel eyes.
“No one can touch us.”
“No one can touch us, Jimmy, no one. You remember that. Not the cops, not your friends, no one.”
He nodded, as the whip cracked again.