Chapter 34B: Randall's Reputation

Paul, uncharacteristically, had lied. He was sitting in his small apartment, flipping channels on TV and trying to figure out why he was even entertaining the idea of bedding a skinny, wasted-looking black woman. But the crazy bitch set him off... It made no sense; she was a professional hooker -- not even high-end -- and a druggie. He was a professional, and she was his client -- that was reason enough to avoid her right there. But she didn't care... What the Hell did she see in him? And why on Earth would he seriously consider falling into bed with her?

"Mom?"

Sharon glanced up from her work, "Dear?"

"Do you have any... K-Y jelly?" Nora asked.

"What?"

"I... need some K-Y jelly..."

"Why?"

"MOM! Do I really have to draw you a picture?"

"Why?"

"I, uh, kind of stepped in it..."

"And you're buying Nate off?"

"Well, yeah, but we were going to do it soon, anyway..." Nora was positively purple.

"I don't have any. You could ask your father..." Sharon's smile would have done credit to a crocodile.

"MOM! Good God!"

"Well, we can try something else..." Sharon punched the intercom. "Felicia?"

"Mistress?"

"Do you have access to any personal lubricants?"

"Um, there might be something in the playroom. For you?"

"No, but I'll deliver it." Sharon eyed Nora.

"I'm on my way."

Sharon turned to Nora. "If you cherish your anonymity, you should leave. I'll bring it to you." Nora nodded and stepped out.

Moments later, the Wench appeared in the door. "How about Glide?"

"Is it okay for anal use?"

"Yeah. Not as long-lasting as some, but sometimes that's better, anally. You don't want to get TOO frictionless..." the Wench grinned, tossing a small squeeze bottle to Sharon. "Since it's not for you..."

"The list is pretty short?" Sharon smiled. "Nora is apparently offering Nate a bribe to ignore some trespass..."

"I saw them the other night. She wasn't going to keep THAT cherry for long..."

"Felicia!"

"He's playing with her ass constantly! She had less than a week, anyway! Trust me!"

"You're kidding, right?"

"He loves that ass! He can't keep his hands off of it! I've seen them!" the Wench laughed.

"Well, then..." Sharon waved dismissal.

Five minutes later, she rapped on Nora's door, then threw it open before her daughter and her boyfriend could react. "Here!" She tossed the bottle at Nora. "Oh, and Nate -- don't let her get away with whatever she's trying to weasel out of -- spank her first!"

Nora caught the bottle and flashed a look at Nate -- whose eyes carried a glint. "You promised!"

"I didn't have instructions from your Mama to tighten you up!"

"Since when do you listen to Mom?" Nora started backing across the bed.

"Since it's what I should be doin' in the first place!" Nate lurched, and Nora's wrist was caught in a vise.

"Nate! Noooo!" Gawd, he was strong! Nora found herself across Nate's knees, AGAIN! "No! Not the jeans! DON'T!"

"Get 'em off!"

"Nate, please!"

"Now!" Smack!

"Owww! Nate!"

"Smack!"

"Okay! Okay!" Nora started skinning out of her jeans. "Can I stand up?"

Nate thought about it. "If you're quick."

"Can I have my arm?"

"What am I, stupid?"

"Nate!"

"Get 'em off!" The hand came up.

"Okay, okay!" Nora went to work, one-handed. "Nate, Honey..."

"Uh uh. Don't even start!"

"Look, you're not gonna..."

"I'm gonna catch shit for tonight FOREVER! We need to iron out who is boss, here! I love you, Baby, but damn!" There was a jerk, and Nora was back over his lap.

SMACK!

"Oww!"

SMACK!

"Nate!"

SMACK!

"Please!"

"Please what?"

"Uh, stop?"

"No, that ain't it." SMACK!

"Oww!"

SMACK!

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!"

"You said THAT before we started!" SMACK!

"Oh, Gawd!"

SMACK!

There was something intensely satisfying about watching Nora's ass cheeks deform under the shock waves from the impacts.

SMACK!

Nora had gone silent, but was making the periodic convulsive twitches that said she was sobbing. Nate let her have five more -- more because it pleased him than because she needed them -- and raised her up. "You gonna be good?" He got a wet face in his shoulder, but it was nodding. "Awright." He rubbed her back, holding her while she settled down.

It took ten minutes before she pulled away. "What about... ?"

"It can wait. It's mine, ain't it?"

"Uh huh."

"Let's go to bed. If it happens, it happens."

It didn't. They made long, slow, soft love in which orgasms were no less intense for having only elicited a soft, emphatic grunt.

"Traitor!" Nora glared at her mother from the breakfast table as she entered the kitchen on Friday morning...

Sharon shrugged. "I'm just doing my job -- making sure your father doesn't turn you into some leather-clad dominatrix." She got herself a cup of coffee while Velma stood by, watching to make sure Miz Sharon got all of her needs fulfilled. "Were you naughty? Did you deserve it?"

"Maybe. But other couples..."

"One thing your father has taught me is that just because some people act like lemmings, you don't have to. I know Nate keeps things to an area that MY mother and father felt free to use, and if it was that bad, it would be an issue between YOU, not an issue between US. Besides, Nate enjoys it." Sharon's eyes conveyed the final message in her response, '... and you do, too!'

"Well..." Nora dropped her eyes; that final message was the most damning. Nate's spankings hurt like Hell, but she got a kind of emotional release from them.

Sharon's eyes swiveled to Nate. "Nate, a reminder. When it's punishment, it's always over, afterward. You don't bring it back, again and again. If it ISN'T over, that's not the right way to handle it."

Nate eyed her. Mama Wilson was growin' up -- you could see it. She wasn't as tentative as she used to be. And he was clearly family... "What if it ain't punishment?"

Sharon looked mildly amused. "Then it isn't." She glanced away. "To have a woman in this family respond to a little recreational pain is not unheard of..."

"MOM!"

"What? I've had my nose rubbed in it! Wake up and smell the coffee!"

Velma, the only witness to this exchange who was not involved directly, turned away, thoroughly embarrassed. Well, they were da Boss' womenfolk...

Sharon, having sunk her barbs, was done. "Velma, I'll be eating in my office. Could you send me around half a grapefruit, a bagel, and coffee?"

"Yes, Miz Sharon. Yo' shoah yo' don' want more'n dat?" Velma's eyes blackmailed her for the sake of the younger generation's nutrition.

"Not today. I like more on occasion, but not always. I know where it goes." She glanced behind her at her ample fundament. "Besides, I'm not still a growing teen. You two could take on a little fruit..."

Nora rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom."

Sharon shook her head and turned back toward her rooms.

The kids cleared out quickly after that, leaving Velma alone when Ed turned up for breakfast. "Whatchew want fer breakfast, ya fookin' rapist bastid?"

Ed looked momentarily like he'd been slapped. He'd been suffering some from yesterday's efforts in Jason's new family apartment, on top of a night of unaccustomed sex, and wasn't ready for a battle of wits. But a glance around said that this wasn't for public consumption, so he rallied. "Waffles, ya silly black slut! Strawberries an' whipped cream, and some bacon! I'm fuckin' starvin'! Can I get cream for my coffee outta them udders of yours?"

"Only if'n dat load o' babymakers yo' dumped in me takes hold!"

"Uhhh!" Ed discovered his defenses weren't up yet. His eyes flashed to Velma's, but she was grinning. Nonetheless, his unprepared reaction hurt her -- he could see it in her eyes -- and the longer he took to respond... "When would we know? Christmas? When the water broke?"

That was better. Velma realized she'd punched out a low blow only after she made the remark, but Ed's expression had hit back, hard. The recovery told her he was back on track... "Ah guess y'all gonna hafta come lissen ta mah belly evah day fo' awhile..."

"Shit. Be six months before a kid would make a dent in the noisy shit goin' on in THERE!" Ed laughed.

"Ah guess y'all'd hafta lissen HARD!" Velma turned away to start working on waffle batter. "Probly not a good idea, anyways. You'd probly git addicted ta the smell o' mah cooze..." She cracked an egg into the bowl and started measuring out pancake mix from the box. "Ah'd be shoah ta end up carryin' yoah kids if'n DAT happened, ya rapist bastid!"

It was the silence that told Velma that something was up. Ed was looking at the door, stricken. Boris was standing in the door, surprise writ large upon his face. Flicking his eyes from one participant to the other, he cleared his throat. "This is a private conversation, no?"

Velma rubbed her forehead, leaving a streak of flour. "Ah guess not any mo'..." Embarrassed, she turned back to what she was doing. Worse was the fact that she'd laid a torpedo in the water designed to see if Ed WOULD return -- and Boris had deflected it...

Boris glanced at Ed, who shrugged, embarrassed. Boris shrugged back -- it was none of HIS business... unless, perhaps, it WAS rape. "I'll come back."

"No, 'sokay," Velma muttered. "What yo' want ta eat?"

"What are you making?"

"Waffles an' bacon."

"That's fine." Boris got some coffee and settled himself gingerly at the table. Things were VERY quiet while Velma put the first waffle in the cooker and started the bacon. Boris broke the ice with a question, "So, how are the ren--, ah, repairs going?"

Ed took it up. "The renovations? Okay. Jason's a bastard about dust and shit, so I spend half my time with a shop vac, and Inez spends half of hers dusting the place." He ruminated a moment. "I can't understand why he's all particular about one of the spare rooms in the new area -- weird wall colors, and a special intercom connected to his bedroom..."

Velma pondered this while Boris murmured, "Really?"

"Yep. I braced the Boss on the intercom setup, an' he said somethin' like, 'I don't wanna know what goes on in there.' Weird thing is it isn't a place to bust on Inez -- he's got another room laid out for that..."

"What color is da walls?" Velma burst out.

"Washed-out lookin' pastel blue. Like a..."

"... Nursery?" Velma interjected, turning to Ed wide-eyed.

"Oh, ho lee shit!" Ed smacked his forehead. "That'd mean..."

"Inez is carryin'," Velma stated positively. "Ah KNOW Bianca ain't. An' she went ta the doc yestiddy." She eyed Ed significantly. "We went togethah..."

Ed absorbed this. So Velma HAD taken precautions. Did she just cover her ass for Wednesday night, or...

"Dat would explain why Mistah J was so pissed at her, fo' da last few days..."

"Whose do you think it is?" Boris wondered aloud.

Velma eyed the big Georgian as if he were a fool. "It be Mistah J's. Ain't no question. No way he'd keep her an' it othahwise."

"Hmph. I think you're right." Boris agreed.

"Ah am. Mistah J was serious pissed fo' a few days, but he be settlin' down. Ah'm guessin' dat was when he found out he was a daddy. If'n it was Raoul's, he wouldn'ta settled down. Inez'd be gone by now." Velma was absolutely positive. "Dat would explain why da Boss give her ta Mistah J as a slave. No way he'd a' done dat if da baby was Raoul's -- it'd a' opened da do' fo' Mistah J ta do crazy shit. Mistah J done leaned on her pretty hard, but wasn't no crazy shit..." It was a commentary on the nature of the household that the beatings and humiliation Inez had suffered wasn't considered 'crazy shit'. "Don' go blabbin'. Dere be some as knows who'll figger somebody talked, an' dat person's shit will be in da wind." Velma put the first waffle down in front of Ed, along with whipped topping and strawberries. "Bacon be up soon. Boris gets the nex' one."

Boris flicked Ed a sly glance that said, 'You get premium service, now?' Ed blushed. "Velma."

"Yah."

"Drag your lard ass over here."

"Whuffo'?"

"Jus' do it."

Velma left the bacon and shuffled over, "What?"

Ed stood and took his napkin to her face, working on the streaks of pancake mix. "White ain't your makeup color." Velma suffered this attention shakily. "So, ain't no kids this week?"

Velma glanced at Boris and licked her lips. "Not fo' a while." She locked eyes with him. "Ain't the way Ah'd do things."

Ed nodded and sat. "Goin' to burn that bacon..."

"An' dat be MAH fault? Wit' yo' jogglin' mah elbow, tellin' me what ta do?" Velma lumbered back to the stove.

"Ain't used to that, huh?" Ed grinned, plopping whipped topping on his waffle.

"No, Ah ain't! An' don' YOU git any ideas 'bout it, yo' ra-, uh, yo' ol' bastid!"

Conversation lapsed. The bacon arrived with Boris' waffle moments later, and Velma laid out the syrup, knowing Boris liked that better than more non-traditional toppings. Ed wolfed his portion down and stood. "I'm outta here," he announced, moving to the coffee pot. "Got to go finish up in there."

"Ah thought yo' wanted cream fer dat?" Velma flicked a glance at Ed's cup.

Ed sauntered up close, laughing, "You know better!" Leaning in, he whispered, "I like my coffee like I like my women -- Hot and black..."

"You!" Shock transfixed her long enough for him to get out of reach. She flicked her eyes to Boris, who assumed a neutral expression -- which told her he'd heard the whisper, too.

Boris applied himself to his waffle for a bit, but gradually he decided that he might have a need to know, after all. "How long has this been going on?"

"What?"

"Velma..."

"Coupla days. Weird shit started Monday or Tuesday. He jes' sudden started talkin' shit, an' Ah started back... Nex' thing Ah know..." She shrugged.

"What's this about a rape?"

Velma sighed, waved a heavy arm. "Wasn't. We was talkin' shit an' Ah sorta dared him. He come in mah room pretendin' ta be drunk -- but his breath smelled lahk vodka, an' tha rest o' him smelled lahk da scotch bottle he was luggin'. Ah didn't put up much of a fight..." She sighed. "It's kinda a game -- Ah swear he raped me an' he swears he was outta his head drunk. Truth is, both a' us needed ta fook."