Project Queen II

by Teresa D. Patterson

  “That’s what’s up,” he said excitedly. “Shit, hurry and finish that damn drink so we can make it happen. Let’s make it do what it do, baby.” His cheesy ass grinned from ear to ear. She could see the plaque build-up on his beaver-like teeth. His tongue was most likely a playground for halitosis. Someone needed to tell him that bad-breath went out of style with the S Curl.

  “Okay, Big Daddy,” she teased and gave him a wicked wink. She felt a sense of accomplishment. Lester had fallen for the bait- hook, line and sinker. She felt her evil heart rejoice. Revenge was going to be so sweet. Lester had no clue what was in store for him.

  It only took a few minutes for her to finish the Hennessy. The woman that she ran off earlier kept giving her the evil eye, but she didn’t care. If the bitch stepped to her, she’d catch a swift beat down. Della was determined not to let anything spoil her plans. That included skank ass bitches with attitudes. Nothing would stand in her way.

  Lester excitedly escorted her from the club with his chest jutted out proudly. He played the role of the gentleman, opening her door so she could get in his Cadillac. She knew better. A gentleman he was not. He was a slimy, low-life predator; a low-life who would soon be dealt with.

  She directed him to a quiet part of town where most of the houses were boarded up because of reconstruction in the area. They’d be demolished when the developers rolled through and made that decision.

  “Turn down this alley,” Della instructed after he’d driven for a few minutes. It was dark and no one could be seen, not even a stray cat or dog. The missing animals could be blamed on the renovation or the new Chinese restaurant in the SweetBay Supermarket plaza. She didn’t care what anyone said, she believed those foreigners would cook a cat or dog in a hot minute, stir-fry it with fried rice and soy sauce. They’d smile their little slanted-eyed smile as they served it up, too.

  Lester began whistling “Let’s Get It On,” lowly. He thought he was going to receive a blow job. Della promised to ride his dick and let him hit it doggie style in the back seat. He was so turned on his dick was almost poking a hole through his pants. She reached over to stroke him, just to keep him excited. What he didn’t know was definitely going to hurt him.

  “So, you had a nice time that night?” she asked sweetly. “You remember the last time we got together?”

  “Er? Yeah. Sure,” he answered hesitantly, remembering the last time he saw her. That had been the night he slipped a rufie into her drink. But, if she didn’t remember, he wasn’t going to let the cat out the bag. “I had a wonderful time. You sure know how to party,” he added, bringing the car to a stop and shutting off the engine.

  Della looked around. There weren’t even any crack heads lurking about. Good. No one would be able to witness what took place.

  “That’s what you call it, a party?” she muttered, her nice mood suddenly vanished, and she switched to bitch mode. “I don’t remember any balloons or a fucking cake,” she said sarcastically. “It was more like a fuck-fest. All y’all niggas took turns fucking me while I was drugged up.”

  Lester snapped around so quickly that she thought he’d gotten whiplash. “Wait a minute, now. You agreed to sleep with Paul. Didn’t nobody force you to do that,” he told her.

  Della reached over, grabbed his balls and squeezed, causing sweat beads to pop out on his forehead. “I didn’t agree to be fucked by Steve, Donald and you, though. Did I?” she spat.

  “Hey, I didn’t touch you.” He was sweating profusely now, obviously nervous and in pain. She hadn’t even started to inflict pain, yet.

  “Maybe you didn’t. But, you videotaped what went down. And from what I can remember, you fixed my drink. So you must have put something in it.” She released his balls and he let out a relieved breath.

  She pulled on a pair of leather gloves and gave him a cruel smirk. “Payback is a bitch!”

  “How much do you want?” he offered quickly. He didn’t even try to deny his involvement. He was sweating so much she could smell it. Sweat and body funk mixed together. The stench turned her stomach. “I’ll give you $500.” He licked his lips nervously. “Your brother got the rest of the tapes. So, I don’t understand why you got a problem.”

  “What the fuck? You’re offering me money? Nigga, no amount of money can erase what they did to me. What you did. Why did you have to tape me and sell it all over South St. Pete.? Why?” Della couldn’t control the tears that sprang to her eyes. She was so angry. She remembered how they’d pissed all over her, laughing while doing it. “You don’t understand why I got a problem with it? You fucked up my life.” She reached into her purse. “Now, I’m going to fuck up yours.”

  “Wait.” Before he could say another word, Della zapped him with the stun gun she’d purchased at the pawnshop. “Shit,” he yelped in pain. “What the fuck is you doing? Damn.”

  “You let them niggas fuck me in the ass. You’re going to experience the same pain and humiliation I experienced that night.” She reached back into her purse and took out the gun. She didn’t plan to use it, but would if he forced her hand. She placed the revolver against Lester’s temple. “Take your pants off,” she ordered.

  “What? But-” She bashed him upside the head with the gun a few times to let him know she meant business.

  “Move motherfucker,” she yelled. “Take your pants off, like I told you.”

  When he was naked Della stuck him with another volt of electricity from the stun gun. His body convulsed. He could barely move. She took out a seven-inch long, two-inch-thick, black vibrator. The head of it looked menacing.

  “What the fuck you plan to do with that?” Lester asked, eyes widening.

  “I can show you better than I can tell you,” Della said. “Recline your seat back as far as it can go. Turn around and bend over,” she commanded. She aimed the gun at the center of his forehead.

  “Della, don’t do this. Please.” His words only managed to incite her to the point of shoving the gun in his mouth.

  “Put the seat back before I blow your fucking brains out.”

  “Okay. Okay,” he said quickly. She removed the gun and waited for Lester to do as instructed. Once he was in position, he began to tremble with fear.

  Lester’s head reeled with all kinds of thoughts. The bitch had lost it. He didn’t know what she was capable of doing. He should have stuck to under-aged girls who were happy to get paid a few dollars after he popped their cherries. Dealing with Della was the biggest mistake he’d ever made in his life. Now, he didn’t know what to do to get out of this mess.

  He stared at the vibrator she held in her hands and got physically ill. Picturing that thing being rammed up his ass, made him tighten his ass cheeks. He felt her place the object at the rim of his asshole.

  “Don’t- do- it.” He tried to reason with her again, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Lester’s screams sliced through the night air as she slid the tip of the vibrator into his tight chute. “Oh shit,” he cried. She forced it in even further.

  “Shut the fuck up and take it like a man,” she hissed. He kept crying so she grabbed his boxers and stuffed them in his mouth. “I bet now you wish they’d prison raped you while you were locked up. At least your ass would be loose. Don’t worry about it though. I’ll loosen it up real good for when you go back.” By now Lester was sobbing like a punk and begging for her to stop. “You want me to stop? What? Did you make those niggas stop raping me? Hell no. Instead, you watched and videotaped it.”

  “I’m sorry. I swear to God. I’m sorry. Please stop,” he pleaded. It only made her more furious. She increased the speed on the vibrator and slid it further into his anal cavity. He howled like a wounded animal. Della didn’t stop working the tool in his ass until he lost control of his bowels.

  “Your ass is mine, motherfucker,” she said smugly, slapping him on his ass cheek, degrading him further.

  She left the vibrator protruding from his ass and got out of the car. Lester was hunched over the seat whimpering in pain.
She dialed AAA Auto Club South.

  “Yes, my car stalled. I’m going to need to have it towed.” She gave the representative the location of Lester’s vehicle. Once she made the call, she allowed herself the pleasure of gloating. The look on the tow-truck driver’s face when he saw Lester with the dildo rammed up his ass would no doubt be priceless.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I know this motherfucker didn’t,” Shae said through gritted teeth. She just knew Larry didn’t come to pick up Imani and had his white bitch in the car with him. That was the ultimate insult.

  She stepped outside still wearing her housecoat and slippers to confront him before he had time to enter the house.

  “Larry, why is that bitch at my house?”

  “I-I- well,” he stammered.

  “What the fuck would make you bring her here?” She was so mad she considered swinging on Larry. It took all of her will power to hold back.

  “Larry, is there a problem?” Danielle called, getting out of the car.

  “Bitch, I’m talking to my husband. I suggest you stay the fuck out of this conversation,” Shae warned.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” Danielle stated firmly. “All of you black women are just loud. Your bark is worse than your bite.” She crossed her arms and glared at Shae defiantly.

  “Ho, if you don’t get your ass back in that car, you’ll find out about my bite,” Shae yelled, heading toward Danielle.

  Larry grabbed her arm. “Shae, please don’t start nothing this morning. I came here for Imani. Can you just get her so I can go?” he pleaded.

  Shae snatched away from him. “You better teach that trick to have some respect before she gets her ass beat. She got a lot of nerve to talk shit while standing on my lawn.”

  “Danielle didn’t mean nothing by what she said. She’s just, you know-” His words trailed off. He didn’t even know what to make of Danielle.

  “I’ll get Imani. You can wait on the steps. Next time, leave the slut behind,” she said. She went back into the house and slammed the door in his face.

  Shae didn’t care if she was behaving like a bitter black woman. Just because Larry had chosen to move out and be with Danielle, it didn’t mean she had to see that bitch’s face every time she turned around.

  When she took Imani outside, she made sure to fasten her in the car seat herself. If Danielle moved an inch to try to assist her, she was going to bust her in her snot box. She didn’t want that whore’s hands near her daughter.

  She figured Larry had talked to Danielle because she actually turned around in the passenger’s seat to face Shae and said, “Sorry.”

  “For what bitch? For taking my husband? Well, you don’t need to apologize for that. If he wants your dusted, busted, disgusted ass, then I’m better off without him.” She kissed Imani on the check and closed the door. “Don’t bring that bitch here again or you’ll both regret it,” she hissed at Larry and stalked back into the house. Once again, she let the door slam behind her.

  “Larry, your wife is rude,” Danielle complained, pouting.

  “How do you expect for her to act?”

  “Maybe if she wasn’t so uptight, she wouldn’t have lost you in the first place. She needs to step her game up. There’s no need to be so bitter about the situation,” she said matterof-factly.

  “Danielle, you don’t know anything about my wife, so let’s just change the subject.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” she said with an attitude. “Larry, let’s get one thing straight. Don’t think that I’m some passive little bitch that you can just dominate and talk down to. I’m not.”

  “I never said you were,” he told her.

  “I know that most black men think that white women are going to pay their way, put up with their bullshit, and suck their dicks whenever they want them sucked. I just want to let you know, you’ve got the wrong bitch.”

  He tossed her a glance and saw that she was serious. She’d turned red in the face and her eyes blazed. They were supposed to go to the zoo. But, he figured it was time to ditch her and spend quality time with his daughter.

  “Danielle, I’ll be taking Imani to see my aunt. She don’t like white people so you can’t come with me,” he added. “I’m going to drop you off at your place, okay?”

  “What about the zoo?”

  “I’m sorry. My aunt called me at the last minute. She needs for me to do something for her.”

  “Fine,” she snapped, crossing her arms. “When you see your aunt, tell her to get with the times. This is the new millennium not the dark ages. Kunta Kenta isn’t running from Massah anymore. What’s wrong with people?”

  “I’ll be sure to pass that on,” he said sarcastically.

  “Larry, you better not be over there all day either. I have a fabulous dinner planned. I’m not scared to visit the ‘hood and find you,” she warned.

  He didn’t doubt it. The bitch was straight up crazy. What the fuck did he get himself into and how could he get out of it?

  ***

  Larry was chilling at his apartment, thinking about calling Shae and asking if he could stop by to see Imani. Actually, he wanted to see Shae as well. He didn’t know how she felt about their separation, but he was falling apart. It had only been two weeks since they’d separated, but it felt like an eternity.

  He was just getting ready to pick up his cell phone when the doorbell rang. He exhaled, knowing it would be Danielle even though they’d spoken earlier. She’d wanted to come over, but he told her that he didn’t feel like having company. She’d obviously blocked out that part of the conversation.

  Reluctantly, he answered the door. “Hey, sweetheart,” Danielle greeted, ignoring the annoyance on his face. “I thought I’d fix you something to

  eat. Now, I know you said you weren’t up to having company, but I’ll be as quiet as a mouse. I promise.”

  “I already ate, Danielle. I ordered a pizza and wings,” he told her, plopping back down on the couch.

  “Oh. Really? Is there any left?” she asked. He nodded and pointed. Danielle got a slice of cheese pizza and planted herself next to him. “Honey, you know that movie Steel Magnolias is coming on tonight. I love that movie. Can we watch it?”

  “You can’t be serious.” He threw her and incredulous look. “I’m watching the game.”

  “You can watch the game any old time.” She brushed him off and grabbed the remote, changing the channel. “Oh goodie. It’s coming on right now. Trust me, you’re going to love this movie.”

  Larry frowned deeply and slunk down in his seat.

  This is some bullshit, he thought.

  ***

  Danielle continued to manipulate most of his time. It was near impossible to get away from her, even though Larry tried. Since they worked together, that was hard to do.

  One day she sat in his office and talked non-stop for almost three hours. He couldn’t get a lick of work done and was close to losing his temper. Her bubbly personality had turned into annoyance. All that jibber jabber gave him a headache. He’d apparently lost that loving feeling.

  He got so sick of seeing her face. He knew that what he’d mistaken for love had disappeared. What made things worse was that Danielle had a serious drinking problem. She loved to party and dragged him to a different club almost every night. When she got drunk, she turned into the devil, getting into fights with other women, the bouncers, and anybody who got in her way of having a good time.

  She’d practically moved most of her clothing, makeup and toiletries to his place. He didn’t have a minute to himself. He couldn’t even take a piss without her barging into the bathroom. He just wanted some “me time” and felt stifled.

  It was less than a month and Larry already knew he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. He wanted to go home. He prayed that Shae would forgive him and take him back. He didn’t want to be with Danielle. The way things turned out, he was swearing off white women for all eternity. The sweet, bubbly persona had been an act. Da
nielle’s mood swings had him convinced that she was bi-polar. He would leave before she decided to bash his kneecaps with a sledgehammer. Her fits of rage when she was drunk had gotten out of control.

  One night they got kicked out of yet another club because of her fighting. Back at his place, he’d tried to convince her to stop drinking, but she was on a roll. He just wanted to sleep, but she wanted to party. She cranked the music up and began to dance around the living room. She was so intoxicated that she stumbled into different pieces of furniture. When she knocked over his fish aquarium, he had enough.

  “Danielle, you either have to settle down or go home,” he told her.

  “I’m not leaving,” she slurred. “Why do you want me to leave, Larry?”

  “Because you’re fucking up my shit. Calm down or go. You have a choice,” he said firmly.

  Danielle’s eyes turned red with sudden fury. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” she raged. “You must have me mixed up with your wife. Because, I’ll be damned if I let a nigger speak to me this way.”

  Larry’s mouth gaped open. “What the fuck did you just call me?”

  “You heard me. I called you a nigger. They may have buried the “n” word, but I haven’t,” she giggled. “God, why do you people get so bent out of shape? It’s just a word.”

  “No you didn’t just call me a nigger to my face. You have to get your ass up out of here before I lay hands on you. Go, Danielle. I’m serious.”

  “But Larry. I just want to have a good time,” she pouted, immediately apologetic. “Don’t make me leave. I want to snuggle.”

  “You think I want you in my bed next to me after you called me a nigger? Hell no. Get out.”

  “Larry, please. I’m sorry.” She tried to hug and kiss him, but by then he was furious. He grabbed her roughly by her upper arms and removed her from his apartment.