Unstoppable

by Scott Hildreth

  I shook my head, “No, not at all.”

  “And you’re not after a quick fuck?”

  “No. If that’s what I thought you wanted, I’d leave now.”

  “You think you’re submissive?” he tipped his beer bottle to his lips and held it as he waited for my response.

  “I know I am,” I smiled.

  “Let’s jump ahead and say that everything between us works out, Vee. For the sake of this conversation, make that assumption,” he slid his beer bottle to the side and leaned forward to the center of the booth, resting his forearms on the edge of the table.

  Naturally, I leaned forward and waited for him to speak. I felt his warm breath on my face as he studied my eyes. Nervously, I crossed my legs again. Something about this man made me nervous; the good nervous. I wanted him to touch me, desperately. He moved his hands to his chin and inhaled a slow breath through his nose as his eyes scanned every inch of me that was above the surface of the table. His gaze met mine and stopped as he softly exhaled.

  “Listen carefully, alright Vee?” he breathed.

  All I could do was nod my head and stare as I waited for him to speak. I crossed my legs.

  Again.

  He curled his index finger toward his palm, motioning for me to come closer. He was, without a doubt, toying with me. I was so close I could already feel his breath against my lips. I moved two inches closer, leaving no more than a few inches between our lips. As soon as I settled into place, I attempted to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat. As if he knew it would make me uneasy, he began to whisper.

  I love it when a man whispers.

  “I fight bare knuckles matches in Rundberg. Yeah, in Rundberg. Those fights. I box professionally, but not as frequently as I’d like. I make ten grand a year boxing if I’m lucky, and most of that comes from training other boxers. I make twenty five or thirty fighting bare knuckles. I’ve never been to prison, but I should have a few dozen times. I’m of the opinion, short of maybe one person on this earth, that there isn’t a man alive that can whip my ass. Not a god damned one. I’ve been stabbed, beaten with a club, shot at, and just two or three nights ago, knocked a man out that tried to rob me at gunpoint. Everyone these days thinks that they want a bad boy. Well, they don’t get any badder than this,” he raised his head and pointed his two index fingers at his chest.

  “The problem, if there is one, Vee, is this. I’m one wild motherfucker. It’s extremely difficult to keep my focus on one thing, person, or event. If we reach a point that we start fucking, and I’m pretty sure we will, you better fuck me as if your life depends on it. Because, Vee, when it comes to sex, I’m not easily amused or entertained,” he reached over, placed his finger under my chin, and tilted my head back as he studied my eyes.

  I squeezed my thighs together.

  Squish.

  “And if you don’t entertain me the first time we fuck, this will end quick, real quick. If you do, and if you have the ability to keep my attention sexually, I’ll fuck you in a manner and in ways that you have no ability of even comprehending. You just don’t. Because if you haven’t had my ten inches of pierced cock shoved in you and these hands all over your body, you haven’t even been fucked yet. You’ve just been fucked with,” he pulled his hand away from my face and slowly leaned back into the booth.

  Did he say ten inches?

  Of pierced cock?

  I swallowed hard and opened my mouth, hoping I would be able to form a legible sentence. “Where do I sign up, Mr. Ripton?” I sighed.

  “Call me Ripp, Vee. And I ain’t Christian Grey; I don’t have a contract for you to sign. You’re a woman of character. All I need is for you to shake on it. Make a fist,” he said as he leaned forward and held his clenched hand over the center of the table.

  “A handshake? With a fist?” I scrunched my brow in confusion as I reached toward his hand.

  “Make a fist and we’ll shake on it,” he said sternly as he shook his over the table.

  I formed my hand into a fist and held it over the center of the table.

  And with that, Mike Ripton pounded his knuckles into mine, and he smiled. And at that moment, I knew two things without a doubt.

  He was dead serious.

  And I was in over my head.

  Way over my head.

  RIPP. I’ve heard people say that once you’re an adult, you don’t change. I don’t believe that. I think we all have the capacity to change; we just have to want to do it. It’s developing the want that is difficult. We become so stuck in our routines, so comfortable, so unwilling to take risk - we just don’t see the value in change. Either that or we’re just plain uncomfortable with what the change might offer. Me? I get bored easy, so change for me brings new things. Some things, however, I will never change; because I’m just not willing.

  Saturday chicken was one of those things.

  “God damn it, Dekk, Shorty, somebody hand me the fuckin’ water bottle. If this shit burns, it’s ruined,” I screamed as I watched my precious chicken go up in flames.

  “Where is it?” Dekk hollered from the edge of the lounge he was sitting on.

  “Well, if you’d get the fuck up and look, you’d probably find it. Hurry, this shit’s on fire,” I bellowed as I closed the lid and raised it again, hoping the flames had extinguished themselves.

  “I don’t understand why this motherfucker’s burning like this,” I closed the lid and looked under the grille for the spray bottle.

  A light tapping on my back startled me, and I spun around quickly. Kace stood behind me, holding the spray bottle in her hand, smiling.

  “Good lookin’ out, Shorty,” I said as I snatched the bottle from her grasp.

  Quickly, I opened the lid to the grille and sprayed the burner area, eliminating the fire that was slowly ruining my chicken. Greasy foods will start a fire as the grease drips into the burner area, but chicken never causes a fire. After I made sure the flame was out, I closed the lid and nervously opened it again a few times to confirm the status of my chicken. Somewhat confused, I placed the bottle under the grille and reluctantly sat on the edge of my lounge.

  “Where the fuck you get this chicken from, Dekk?” I asked as I grabbed my bottle of beer from the table beside the lounge.

  “Up at the corner, HEB. The one by the exit,” he responded.

  “Well, HEB’s chicken don’t normally go up in fuckin’ flames. Something’s wrong with this chicken,” I stared at the grille and took a drink of my beer.

  “The chicken’s fine, Ripp,” Dekk shook his head as Shorty sat down beside him on the lounge.

  “It ain’t fine. It was on fuckin’ fire, dude. It’s just fuckin’ weird. It takes grease to start a fire. Chicken ain’t greasy. I ain’t lookin’ to eat no weird ass chicken that’s been tampered with and infused with grease to make it taste good,” I finished drinking what was left of my beer and tossed the bottle into the trash can beside the lounge.

  I stood, opened the lid of the grille, and checked the chicken. The burner below the chicken was burning steadily and at a low flame suitable for barbequing chicken. I closed the lid of the grille, grabbed a beer from the cooler, and dropped back into my lounge as I rubbed my head.

  “Fuck I’m hungry. What a fuckin’ week. This is the first I’ve been able to relax all God damned week,” I closed my eyes as late afternoon sun warmed my bare skin.

  “Maybe it was the burgers?” Kace said softly.

  I sat up in my chair and opened my eyes, “Excuse me?” I snapped.

  “The burgers, Ripp. Maybe the burgers made the grease,” she smiled.

  “I ain’t cookin’ burgers, Kace. There ain’t a burger in there, just chicken,” I looked across the deck at Kace, confused.

  “Well, Shane and I cooked over here the other night, and we cooked burgers,” she said.

  “Dekk?” I raised one eyebrow and stared at Shane as he turned his palms up in a half-assed apology.

  “Dekk, you cooked burgers on my fucki
n’ grille?” I asked as I stood and opened the lid to the barbeque grille.

  “Kace wanted a burger, so I bought some hamburger. It was lean, like ninety percent or something. Yeah, we cooked it over here the other night, you were gone,” he admitted.

  I turned toward him and shook my head. I opened the lid to the grille and silently began turning all of the pieces of chicken over with the tongs. After successfully flipping all of the pieces and verifying there was no threat of another secondary fire, I closed the lid and hung the tongs from the hook.

  “Burgers. Seriously? I guess I have a couple questions,” I sat on the edge of the lounge and grabbed my beer, “since when do you eat burgers for one, and two, why in the fuck are you cooking burgers on my grille and not at your fuckin’ house?”

  “I like burgers, Ripp,” Kace laughed.

  “I ain’t talkin’ to you, Shorty. Dekk, you gonna answer?” I asked as I took a slow sip from my bottle of beer.

  “Kace wanted a burger, so I cooked her some. I don’t have a grille, and I didn’t want to cook them in my house, so we came here. You gave me a key to this place, Ripp, remember?” he stood from his seat and shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

  “Yeah, I remember. But damn, dude. Seriously? Burgers on my chicken grille? And then you act like this fire is some kind of fuckin’ mystery. Lookin’ around like you ain’t got any form of fuckin’ clue what might have happened. You and Shorty sittin’ over there with your hands on your cheeks like you’re all surprised and shit while I’m fightin’ this fuckin’ blaze,” I stood, opened the lid to the grille, and checked the chicken.

  “Jesus, Ripp, we cooked a burger,” Dekk laughed.

  “It ain’t funny Dekk. You caught my chicken on fire,” I scowled at both of them as I flopped into the lounge.

  “And you ain’t got no grille. Yeah. You have serious issues, dude. You got stacks of money. You bought Kace a new car, a fifty thousand dollar diamond bracelet, and you’re gonna fight for the Championship. Millions. You’re gonna have millions if you ain’t got ‘em already. But I can’t force your dumb ass to put a tire on that bike of yours, or buy a pair of boots. Three hundred bucks. A grille cost three hundred bucks,” I pulled my toothpick from my mouth and tossed it in the trash.

  “Are you really mad at us Ripp?” Kace asked softly as she alternated glances between Shane and I.

  “No Shorty. I ain’t mad. I like makin’ a big deal out of shit. Dekk knows it. Now if my chicken would have burned, you’d have seen the second installment of Dekkar-Ripton. We’d have thrown down right here,” I laughed as I pointed to the bare space on the deck between Shane and me.

  “Shit,” Dekk laughed, “I could beat you one handed now. You haven’t really trained in two weeks.”

  “I been lifting. And workin’ out. I always lift, you know that. I just been fuckin’ busy,” I complained as I recalled the events of the week.

  “You turned that around. You haven’t been fucking busy, you’ve been busy fucking, Ripp. You need to slow down, you’re going to die soon from some kind of disease if you don’t watch it,” Shane said as he sat back on the edge of the lounge.

  “I don’t fuck people with twat diseases, thank you very much. And, if it’s any of your business, I’m looking to try and settle down. Well, kind of,” I said proudly as I finished my beer.

  “Shane said you had sex with two girls from Rundberg. That’s gross” Kace scrunched her face and covered her mouth as if she were going to vomit.

  “They weren’t from Rundberg; they were in Rundberg, kinda traveling through. And yes there was two of ‘em, sisters. But one got fucked and the other just listened,” I laughed.

  “Sisters?” Kace turned to Shane, who immediately shrugged his shoulders.

  I nodded my head, “Yep. Sisters.”

  Kace shook her head and rolled her eyes as she elbowed Shane, probably for telling her half of the story.

  “And thanks Dekk. I appreciate you bringin’ Shorty up-to-date on my sexual adventures,” I shook my head, stood from the lounge, and opened the lid to the grille.

  “Chicken’s done,” I announced as I grabbed the tongs and platter, “go in the house and get the other shit, it’s in the fridge.”

  As they went into the house, I pulled the chicken from the grille and placed it on the platter. Seeing the growth in Kace over the last year allowed me to realize how strong of a woman she really is. She’s small and quiet, but she doesn’t have a weak bone in her body. The day we met, all she could do was sit and point at me. Hell, she was so nervous she couldn’t even speak. Now, she’ll challenge me on even the small things, and fight me the entire way if she thinks she’s right.

  Witnessing Shane and Kace together and seeing how well they got along was one single thing that made me consider the fact that Vee and I may be able to do the same. I, no doubt, had my reservations. I’ve never been in a relationship in my life, and changing that would not come easy. I had no idea if Vee and I would even have similar interests, but I was willing to try to find out. She was the prettiest woman I had ever seen, she was intelligent, and she believed she was submissive. I don’t know the first fucking thing about male dominance or submissive women, but that afternoon with my little submissive unicorn girl sure made me wonder if it wasn’t a place where I belonged. As they walked out with the plates and side dishes, I laughed out loud at the thought of shaking Vee’s hand in the bar.

  “What’s so funny, Ripp?” Kace asked as she walked across the deck and placed the plates on the table.

  “Well,” I started to talk and began laughing again.

  I covered my mouth with my hand and though of me trying to act as a Dom. Visions of me donning my Chuck’s with a whip in my hand and Vee wearing leather boots that went half way up her thighs caused the laughter to continue.

  “Are you going to enlighten us on what’s going on?” Shane asked as he looked back and forth between Kace and me.

  Eventually, I stopped laughing, rubbed my hands on my shorts, and took a breath. As I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand, I tried to decide a way to tell them what I had decided to try and do. Not a bit unlike Shane, everything I do, I do well. I had my reservations about being in a relationship at all, but I knew if I did my research, I could be as good of a Dom as anyone. In hopes of a little reassurance, I set the platter down and opened my mouth.

  “The girl from the Jackalope? The really pretty one from the other day?” I sighed as I tossed a few pieces of chicken on my plate and sat on the edge of the lounge.

  Shane nodded as he walked toward the table, “Vee, right?”

  “Yep, Vee. Vivian, as in Vivian Simon. The big law office under the Bat Bridge with the Simon, Simon, and Simone on the side? Yeah, that’s her. She’s an attorney,” I pulled the skin from my chicken and poked it into my mouth.

  “Wow, an attorney,” Kace said as she spooned vegetables and coleslaw onto her plate.

  “Well, we met for drinks the other night,” I paused and took a bite of my chicken.

  “Did you tell her you’re a thirty-one year old nympho boxer that fights bare knuckles on the side for spending money?” Shane laughed as he sat down beside Kace.

  I nodded my head and finished chewing my chicken, “Well, as a matter of fact, I did. I told her all of that. And she told me a few things as well.”

  “Funny things?” Kace looked up and smiled as she carefully pulled the meat from her chicken leg.

  “Not at the time, no,” I took another bite of chicken as I shook my head.

  “But it’s funny now?” she asked.

  I took a drink of beer, washed down my chicken, placed my plate on the table beside my lounge, and tossed my legs over the side. After resting my forearms on my thighs and leaning forward, I felt comfortable telling them the rest of the story. Kace and Shane were both looking at me as if my head were on fire.

  “Let me finish before either of you two make some stupid assed remarks, okay?” I gestured tow
ard them with my hands as I spoke.

  As if rehearsed, they looked at each other and nodded.

  “Okay. So I met Vee at the bar, and we started bullshittin’ about stuff, and all of a sudden she says, I ain’t lookin’ to do anything with anybody and I ain’t lookin’ to fuck nobody. I don’t just fuck. So, if you wanna fuck, toss that beer back and kick rocks, son. So I said, hell I’m good with that and I’m still listenin’,” I paused, grabbed my beer and took a drink.

  “So, let’s see. I said, what are you lookin’ for? She takes a long drink to finish her beer, waves over the waiter like she’s dying of thirst. Gets herself another beer, drinks half of it, sets that fucker down on the table, leans forward, and lets me fuckin’ have it. I about shit myself,” I lifted my beer and took another short sip.

  “What did she say, Ripp?” Kace scooted all the way to the edge of the lounge, and sat with her mouth hanging open.

  “Alright. Here’s where it gets interesting. Now let me finish, alright?” I asked as I leaned forward and rested my arms on my thighs.

  Again, they both nodded. Kace wiped her mouth with a napkin and set her plate aside and waited for me to speak. I loved telling stories, and telling stories to these two was like telling a story to a kid. They just sat and stared, hanging on every word. I waited a long minute before I started talking, and as soon as they began to start squirming in their seats, I began.

  “She set her beer aside, leaned forward, and said, I am submissive. I want a man to hold me down and treat me like a whore. I don’t want a dominant man, I wand a God damned Dom. I want someone to take charge and make me his little submissive bitch. If you’re this man, be this man. If you’re not, Mr. Ripton, let’s part friends. Yeah, she called me Mr. fuckin’ Ripton. This gal, she’s got class,” I nodded, leaned back in my chair, and waited for them to speak.

  “Sounds like it,” Shane chuckled and slumped into the lounge.

  “Uhhm. What’d you say?” Kace asked, still sitting on the edge of the lounge.