Stevie grabs his dick just thinking about fucking Swoopes. Unlike other down low brothers, he admitted to fucking other men. And if somebody challenged him on it, he’d have no problems standing up for what he believes in. And in this case, he believes in tight ass buttholes.
“Cool. Don’t worry. I got that shit. I’ll take the smokes but I’da did it for free.”
Tree is silent because Stevie is talking too much.
“You neva did tell me why you want me to do this though.”
“Cuz it’s none of your business. Just remember the plan.” “Trust me. It will be my pleasure.”
Swoopes is in his room doing pushups with his head away from the door. He is just about to do his last set, when someone enters.
“Not now, Jo. I’m not done,” he says preparing to finish his exercise.
He thinks it was Jo Cramer coming for the tenth time that day to borrow his magazines. He is about to cuss his pressed ass out. But he doesn’t get the chance to when he feels the body weight of another man against his back. His face is smashed against the grungy cold floor. And when he tries to speak, his tooth breaks and lodges underneath his tongue. The harder he fights, the more pressure is placed on top of him. His voice can not rise because a large callus hand is placed against his lips. This is the worse thing that could’ve happened to him.
When he was younger his father, who was a part of an underground child sex ring, use to make him give oral sex every night when his wife Bernice, went to bed. Bernice had married him when she left her ex-boyfriend Dylan during one of their fights. She was initially attracted to him because of how well she thought he took care of his adopted son. It didn’t take her long to realize that what she thought was a lie. And truthfully, Bernice didn’t know a lot about Poris or Dylan for that matter.
Poris Mitchell, Swoopes’ father, was a tall man with very light skin. He wasn’t very attractive and had it not been for his large home and money, and her need to make Dylan jealous, Bernice would have never dealt with him. A major characteristic about him was that whenever he showed emotion of any kind, his face would turn flush red.
It wasn’t until his father tried to sexually abuse Bilal, his stepbrother, that things changed in his life. To this day, Swoopes has nightmares and it has impacted his relationships with men and women.
“Hi, boys. I just came to bring ya’ll some cookies and milk.” Poris said after he entered the boy’s bedroom. “Where’s my mother?” Bilal asked. His eyes lit up but he knew eating food in the bed went against his mother’s rules.
“She’s sleep. Who wants chocolate chip and who wants raisin?”
Taylor Mitchell aka Swoopes, sat on his bed with the covers raised over his mouth, barely showing his eyes. He saw his father’s complexion and knew what he really wanted. Sex.
“I’ll take chocolate!” Bilal, who was only ten at the time yelled. Poris smiled having won him over and sat on the edge of his bed.
“What about you, son? You want oatmeal raisin or chocolate?”
“I don’t want any,” he shook his head repeatedly.
“You sure? They’re really good.”
“I’m sure.”
“Yes you do. Why don’t you come on over here, and sit next to me and Bilal.”
“Daddy, I don’t want to.”
“Taylor Mitchell you get over here this instant!” he demanded.
Bilal feeling uncomfortable with Poris’s change of attitude decided to defend his stepbrother.
“On second thought, I don’t want any cookies.”
Poris whipped his head around and looked at Bilal.
“Yes you do,” he told him with a treacherous stare. “And so you don’t get any cookies on your pajamas, why don’t you take off your shirt. You don’t want me to tell your mother you’re eating in the bed do you?”
Bilal, who was still young and confused, did as he was told. And before long, Swoopes sat on the edge of the bed next to them.
“Look at you,” Poris said to Bilal in a caring tone. “You have such a beautiful chest. Doesn’t he have a beautiful chest, Taylor?” Swoopes couldn’t face Bilal. He was unnerved. “Don’t be rude! Look at him, Taylor!”
Swoopes raised his eyes a little and saw the confusion on Bilal’s face.
“What’s going on?” Bilal asked.
“Nothin’. We’re all friends here and we like to touch one another,” Poris said after placing his hand on his immature chest. “Touch your brother, Taylor.”
“No…please,” he said shaking his head. “I don’t want to.”
“Do it!”
Bilal finally saw what was happening. His mother warned him of freak ass niggas like this and most importantly, she told him what to do if something like this ever happened. And he remembered everything she said.
“I’m gonna tell my mother!” he yelled in a strong firm voice. “Don’t put your fuckin’ hands!”
Taylor for the first time raised his head and kept his eyes on Bilal. After Bilal challenged him, he ran out of the room and toward Poris and Bernice’s bedroom. When she found out what happened, she felt helpless and hurt that she placed her only son in so much danger. Immediately she got on the phone and called the police. Afterwards she made mental notes to divorce her husband of five months and take a heap of his money with her.
When the cops arrived that night, they asked Swoopes was what Bilal saying true. Poris, who stood out of view of everyone else in the living room, gave Swoopes a dark stare. He told him many times before that if he ever told anybody about what he made him do sexually, he’d kill him. But something about Bilal’s strength made him strong and he wasn’t as afraid as he usually was.
“Well, son? Is what your brother saying true or not?”
“Yes. It is.”
Poris was locked up for child molestation and Swoopes was placed in foster home after foster home. He ran away so much, stealing people’s possessions in the process, that he earned the nickname Swoopes. It would take him only a minute to swoop your shit right out from up under you.
The system, and life had turned him into a cold, selfish person. Eventually Swoopes ran into Bilal many years later. Bilal was with the YBM (Young Black Millionarez) and Swoopes after running away from people he owed money, sought refuge with his stepbrother by joining the same gang.
Bilal never told anyone of their mutual friends how Poris tried to violate both of them. Anyway, the topic was too embarrassing. But Swoopes always thought he did. He always felt like someone was judging him or wanted something from him. What Swoopes didn’t know was that he was on to something. Because although Bilal didn’t tell any of their mutual friends their secret, he did tell the bitch he hated most of all, Yvonna. And when it was time, she decided to use his deep dark secret against him.
The man moaned deeply in Swoopes’ ear as he took his selfrespect. Swoopes thought he was about to die when he felt another man’s penis being rammed in and out of him. For five minutes, he was put into the worse physical and emotional pain of his entire life. And when the rape was over, he was hit with one swift motion on his right temple rendering him unconscious.
“Where you goin’ man?” Stevie asks passing Tree in the hallway.
“’Bout to go to sleep. I’ma get up wit you later.” “Aight. I wanted to rap to you about that. Can we talk now? It’s important.”
Tree looks at him and says in a deep voice, “I said, lada, nigga.”
Stevie walks away confused at his response.
Once Tree arrived in his room, he rushes to the sink. Looking behind him once to be sure no one was coming in his cell, he takes a cloth and wipes his soiled penis mixed with semen and sperm as best as he could. He decided to do the honors of raping Swoopes himself. It wasn’t like he didn’t have experience.
Taking one look at himself in the mirror, he’s disgusted. Tree had been a closeted homosexual all his life. When his best friend was alive, they shared their compulsion together. Sometimes he missed Dylan, Bernice’s ex-boyfriend…and his lover.
A New Chapter A New Story
“So how is she? I mean…has she regained her concha-ness?” “Penny, you know I’m not supposed to be talking to you about a patient’s case.”
She stares at her weary. Lately she hadn’t been home and when she does come back, she’s hurt. “I know docta. But you see, I’m the only family she got.”
Penny looks down at Yvonna who is in bed connected to several monitors and machines. “Penny, you are not related to her. So why the interference?”
“Cause she needs me. Everybody needs somebody.” “Oh well,” he says after a heavy breath. “Have it your way.” She smiles. “I still don’t understand how her fingers got mutilated though. It doesn’t make much sense.”
“Like I said, someone was tryin’ to break in my home and she fought ‘em and they stabbed her. I caught ‘em runnin’ away.”
Doctor June looks at her over his red rim glasses. “You’re lying. But there’s nothing I can do. For your sake I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Before he leaves she says, “Docta, do you think it’s possible to ever fully get over Multiple Personality Disorder? Not that she is havin’ aproblem. I just wanna know.”
“Why?”
“Just curious, docta. Really.”
“Well, for starters it’s not called Multiple Personality disorder anymore. It’s referred to as Dissociative Identity Disorder, or DID. Usually the ego or personality will take control of the individual’s behavior, which results in memory loss. Now if I remember her case correctly, Yvonna not only experienced routine takeovers by other personalities, but she also was able to talk and see them.”
“I’m not talkin’ ‘bout her.” Penny corrects him. “This is just a general question.”
“Well it’s an odd general question.”
“It’s general all the same.”
He clears his throat and says, “Normally only auditory hallucinations exists. And because of these vast differences, Yvonna’s case, even though we aren’t referring to her, is different.”
“But can DID be cured?”
“Not unless they’re able to reconnect the identities to make them one functioning individuals.”
“Thank you, docta.”
“Good luck, Penny.”
When he leaves the room, she looks down at Yvonna’s soft face. Penny had been placing antidepressants in her tea faithfully and she was aware that when she didn’t come home, missing dosages could cause the disorder to resurface. That’s why she lied to the authorities and the hospital staff about what happened to her fingers. She didn’t know what caused her to hurt herself but she had a feeling DID was to blame.
“Get well, honey. I love you.”
With that she rubs her rough hand slowly across Yvonna’s forehead and walks out of the room. And when she does, her eyes open. But Yvonna is not the same.
Introducing Gabriella
The craziest bitch alive
Now Shyt Has Gotten Serious
The beeping of the monitors and the fashion-less white robes were making her sick. She needed out. She needed to get away. And most of all, she needed revenge. But when Yvonna opens her eyes, she isn’t herself. She is Gabriella, the dominant, the heartless and cruelest soul on the planet.
Yvonna duplicated personalities in an attempt to make the people in her life do, think and act the way she thought they should be. This was why she’d often hold on to other personalities, like her father and then Treyana long after their deaths. Yvonna was the ruthless and Gabriella was the heartless.
Gabriela committed the murders when Yvonna lost control of people and situations although most of the time the murders occurred without Yvonna’s recollection. But when Yvonna regained consciousness and identified with their personalities, despite them being dead, she was usually in control. Before long violence becomes second nature. Sure, she had other personalities prior to Gabriella. But when she came along, she forgot about them all. In fact it was during the most confusing times of her life, that Gabriella came to her.
“Yvonna what are you doing up here?” Yvonna sat on a worn out blue recliner in the corner of her dark living room, looking out a window. She loved staring at the huge letter “t” as she thought of another place, far, far away. She imagined she had loving parents and that they would somehow come back to take her away from a fucked up reality. But these make-believe parent’s, never came.
“I wanna stay up here.” Yvonna looked at her with the pleading eyes of a child. Her red dress was too small for her, and the red strawberries that were on the front of it, were missing thread and lacking color. “I don’t want to go downstairs.”
“Well you have to.” Diane’s tall linky body looked worn out and abused. The dirty jeans that she wore were so thin in the knee and buttock area, that they were developing holes. And her large tough black wig made her look much older than thirty-five. Still, there was beauty on her caramel colored face, but not in her eyes. “You’re being rude to your father and his company. They love to see you dance and they have guests.”
“Mama, please. They don’t make me dance. They make me,” Yvonna was cut off in midsentence by her mother’s boisterous tone. “Stop lyin’ to me! Your father loves you! Now get downstairs!” “But I’m scared, mamma. I don’t like it down there. They hurt
me.”
“Yvonna Harris, get down them fuckin’ stairs now!” When
Yvonna doesn’t move she grabs her fragile shoulders roughly, meshing
them together in an awkward motion. “You messin’ shit up for me!
Them men pay good money to see you dance. Besides, there are other
kids down there. Don’t you want to be with other kids?” “No, mamma. I want to stay here with you.” She held on to
Diane’s leg and she kicked her off. This was the most rebellious Yvonna
had ever been.
“If I have to tell you again, you won’t eat for a whole week!
Now go!”
She released Yvonna. She was supposed to be her protector yet
she was the furthest thing from it. Diane couldn’t safeguard anyone if
she wanted to because she was the keeper of many secrets. “Okay, mama. I’m going.” She backs away from her. “Good. And when you get back, I’ll let you eat the cereal you
like to eat for dinner. Okay?”
Yvonna nodded her head and walked to the basement. Her body
trembled because she knew they’d be waiting. They always were and
there were always new ones. They were united by their sins. Once a
month they’d come with their liquor, loud mouths and video cameras
to abuse children and Yvonna’s parents hosted the event, but why? Although she remembered most of the predators’ faces prior to
splitting into the Gabriella personality, after some time she forgot most
of them. Instead of dwelling on such despair, she created Charmaine
and Shelby to keep her company. Charmaine was the first personality
she ever had and Shelby followed sometime after that. They were with
her during the worse years of abuse. The personalities, although distinct in their appearances, appeared to come from nowhere. Yvonna bended the corner in the basement and looked at the
five men present.
“What took you so long?” one asked.
“Yeah. You had us waiting.” Another one said.
Their eyes followed her until she stood before them while
Yvonna’s father sat on the chair looking at her with lust. The strangers
were seated in a circle with three naked young boys standing in the
middle. Jo and Diane were respected in their group because of their
access to children. No one asked where they got the children from and
no one cared.
The five men present were Joe Harris, Dylan Merrick, Tamal
“Tree” Green, Poris Mitchell and Derrick Knight. And they
all had
three things in common. They all enjoyed having sex with young children, they all paid for it and they all deserved to burn in hell. It was
Dylan and Tamal’s first time attending, but it wouldn’t be their last. It
took them forever to win Jo and Diane’s trust and their hard work had
finally paid off.
“You hear them, girl?” Jo continued. “What took you so long?” “I was talking to mama. Upstairs.” She said in a weak voice. “Don’t be sorry, get over here.”
Yvonna walked slowly in the middle and suddenly she saw
Charmaine and Shelby in a corner. Although most of the men preferred boys, Tamal and Dylan liked both. They were the ones who requested
Yvonna.
“Get on top of her,” Tamal told one of the young boys once she
was in the middle. Her red dress sat at her feet. “And put your mouth
on her young pussy. She like that. Don’t you, Yvonna?”
Yvonna started to cry and her personalities, Charmaine and
Shelby began shaking in the corner. They were duplicates of her current
mental state…innocent, young and helpless.
“Na…na…now, I like that,” Tree said looking at the boy stoop
down. He had a weird speech impediment when it came to saying the
word, now. He would stutter a few times before getting the word out. “Please,” Yvonna sobbed. “I don’t like this.”
“Shut up! You do like it you young bitch!” Jo said. He got up
and smacked her in the face. “Stop acting like you don’t!” “Man, I paid my money to see this,” Dylan disputed. “If she
don’t do it, I’ma take my money elsewhere.”
“She gonna do it,” Tamal stopped him. “Ain’t you?” Dylan wasn’t that into women. In fact the only women he ever
cared about was Bernice, and that was only because she bore him a son.
Their heterosexual relationship concealed his sexuality. At first he had
thoughts of sexually abusing Bilal also and he even grew excited the
closer the day came to his birth. But when he was born and he looked
into his eyes, he realized he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He decided
Shyt List 2 (The Cartel Publications Presents) Page 11