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Authors note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Weekend Bully: Part Two
Chapter One:
The drive home from his office job was something Mark enjoyed tremendously. Since he found himself trying to spend time with his daughter Cadey in the evenings when he got back home, and with his weekends devoted to sleep and his second job, it was his journeys in and out of work that became his only ‘me time’. Mark liked to cue up a true crime podcast or some sort of documentary, listening to it as he made his commute.
This Friday though he was too distracted by his own thoughts to focus properly on the story unfolding through the speakers of his car. Irritated at losing track, he turned it off, electing to drive the last five minutes in silence.
He was worried. Well, worried was too strong a term, concerned was probably better. Cadey had always been so self-reliant, able to make him feel like a passenger in her life rather than a guide and mentor, his role as a father. This week though she’d been acting out of sorts. It was her last summer before heading off to college, he’d expected her to be out with friends each day, bugging him for some extra cash to spend on… whatever. Instead, she’d been withdrawn, quiet. The normal interplay between them, that had been muted, Cadey failing to rise to many of his teasing barbs. Mark had asked her if there was anything on her mind. She’d denied it, falling back on a tried and tested excuse of ‘women’s trouble’ that never failed to make him back off. Still, he couldn’t quite make it fit, Cadey seeming more preoccupied than out of sorts.
Mark knew that a lot of his worry was tied up to being a single parent, busy with two jobs and stressed with financial woes. He took solace from the fact that Cadey understood and never blamed him for their situation or that he was away working so much. Instead, she did everything she could to help out. She was a good kid, a better daughter than he deserved. All of which meant that he worried all the more for her when he felt there was a problem but couldn’t help out.
His driveway came into view at that moment, Mark slowing down to pull in. Friday’s were tough, he worked his first nightshift on a Friday night, only having a few hours to grab some sleep after working a nine to five shift at his full time job. Bad enough, but Friday also invariably meant that the weekend residents of the shore town he lived in began to show up. That meant that his obnoxious neighbor Jermaine would arrive from the city. Sure enough, Mark could see Jermaine’s expensive SUV parked in the next-door driveway, the loud music he often blasted out audible as Mark wearily climbed out of his own car.
The man was a bully. Mark knew it and he knew that Cadey was all too aware of it as well. Another regret, one of a thousand that dogged his life, that he wasn’t strong enough to stand up to the man. Mark didn’t do confrontation, not well at least. He tried to reason with people, appeal to their better natures rather than stand his ground, fight his corner. That was all well and good except that Jermaine didn’t have a better nature. He delighted in the myriad of small insults and torments he could send Mark’s way. Pissing onto Mark’s property, letting his big Rottweiler shit in Mark’s backyard, playing music loudly even though he knew Mark worked a night shift on weekends. Snide comments, some veiled, most not, all designed to make Mark feel small. And it worked.
Shaking his head at his misfortune to have such an entitled asshole move next door, Mark pulled his house keys out, opening the door to his home.
>
“Hey Sweetie, I’m home.” Her Dad’s voice roused Cadey from her reverie. The young woman rolled off her bed where she’d been lying, just looking up at the ceiling. On her feet, she opened her bedroom door and went to greet her father.
“Hey old man” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Cadey had to force some cheer into her voice and she suspected her Dad picked up on that, but even so she saw a genuine smile of relief on his face with her greeting, both of them taking a little comfort from each other. “Good day at work?” Cadey bustled about the kitchen, relieving her father of the Tupperware he’d used to carry his lunch in with.
“Same as any other. How about you? Get up to much?”
“Nah, just chilled out, read some, chatted to some friends,” Cadey said, loading the dishwasher, keeping her head down.
“Okay good. Right, so…uhh, do you want to hang out for a bit before I head off out to work?” All Mark wanted was his bed, a few hours sleep. He wanted sleep but he needed to be there for his daughter. Cadey shook her head, stepping in to give him a hard hug that melted some of the worry Bornova travesti from his heart.
“Don’t go talking crazy. At your age, old guy like you needs all the sleep he can get. Go lie down for a couple of hours Dad, I’ll call you in time for work.”
“You sure?” He asked half-heartedly, already shuffling away.
“I’m sure. Hey?”
“What sweetie?” Mark turned to look at Cadey.
“You want some warm milk before bed?” The grin on her face was pure mischief and he loved to see it.
“Sure. You want my foot in your ass while you fix it?”
“So that’s a no then? ‘Kay, sleep Dad. Talk to you in a couple of hours.” Her father blew her a kiss, heading off to his bedroom.
Alone, Cadey hovered for a moment, taking a half step in the direction her father had gone, her mouth opening slightly as she prepared to call him back, to talk with him. That was as far as her urge to confide in him went. The thought of what he’d say, how he’d react, the way he’d look at her from then on… a small shudder wracked her body and Cadey turned on her heel, heading back to her bedroom.
Closing the door to the room she lay out on her bed again, staring up at a white painted ceiling, seeking solutions in the bland canvas. She’d dug herself a big fucking hole and she had zero idea how to climb out of it. Trying to take the fight to her asshole neighbor, a man who tormented her gentle father, had resulted in a moment of madness. That small piece of vandalism had led to her being blackmailed into performing fellatio on the much older black man. From that act, a second round of intimidation and coercion culminated in her being fucked. Literally and figuratively.
Cadey could just make out the music from Jermaine’s home through her closed bedroom windows. A rolling wave of nausea hit her, taking her by such surprise that Cadey slapped a hand over her mouth, thinking she might actually throw up. She took some calming breath’s, in through her nose, exhaling slowly through her mouth. She hadn’t just allowed herself to get fucked by the man bullying her father, bad enough as that was. She’d somehow allowed herself to get carried away by the whole experience through a combination of youthful naivety, lack of sexual experience and a sluttish disposition she was unaware she possessed.
The first two could be excused, the last… Cadey was pretty sure it was a trait she’d inherited from her bitch of a mother, so that was just one more reason to detest her. All of which could have been dealt with in time and with the aid of maybe a few thousand dollar’s worth of therapy in her thirties. The issue was that she didn’t have two decades in which to bury the incident away in the dark recesses of her mind. Firstly, because the man lived next door to her on the weekends and his presence wasn’t exactly low key, secondly, more importantly Cadey had found out what Jermaine did for a living. He wasn’t just a rich douchebag from the city who’d bought a house by the shore to relax in on the weekends. He was a rich douchebag from the city who had made his fortune as a pimp, and she’d agreed to work for him.
The physical pleasure and the unaccustomed feeling of guilt about her actions had left her in a buzz for the two days she’d found herself being fucked in his bed. Through well-rehearsed actions, Jermaine had broken her to his will, enjoying her uncorrupted flesh, opening up her mouth, pussy and ass to the joy of sex with a well-endowed and dominant man. He had left on the Monday, handing her a phone by which she’d be contacted for her new career. It had taken until the Tuesday morning for the thrill of it all to pass from her system, the departing euphoria leaving her with a sense of dread, guilt and self-disgust instead. The phone, that she had stashed away under her pillow, pulling it out every so often to stare at it, fearing that any moment it might come to life and yet at the same time having a sick fascination in her mind as to what would happen when it did.
It was Friday now and over the last four days the only concrete end goal that Cadey had managed to settle on was that her father could never know. She’d watched him every night going about the house, seeing the concern on his face because she’d been out of sorts, knowing that he lived and died with her happiness and sorrow. To know that Jermaine, of all people, had used her the way that he had… it’d kill her dad. No question. Strong as their bond was, the idea of Cadey and Jermaine together… she knew her Dad wouldn’t be able to bear it. So that was it, whatever she had to do to keep this a secret, that’s what she’d do. She also hoped, faintly hoped, that if she worked for Jermaine this one time, maybe he’d be happy enough with that. Perhaps it would be seen as enough, through the act of putting her in her place, that he might just let it all go.
Then just before six pm, the small cell phone gave off an unfamiliar ping signaling a received text. Her hands Bornova travestileri trembled slightly as she viewed the message. Nothing incriminating. Just an address and a time. She recognized the street, it was the far side of the town, part of a fairly recent development that had seen a clutch of expensive homes being built. Not a real shocker that the address was for a rich guy’s home, Jermaine had intimated that his clients were all wealthy. It was twenty minutes away and she had two hours to get there. Dreading what was to come but resolved to see it through for the sake of her father, Cadey got up, deciding a shower and a change of clothes was called for.
Chapter Two:
Her father was awake by the time Cadey was ready to leave the house. She’d showered and put on a simple cami dress, floral print on a peacock blue base. A little make up, not too much though and that was that. With no instructions or advice, this was what she’d gone with. At least she didn’t look like an escort.
“You look nice sweetie. Off out?”
“Umm yeah, uh… I thought I’d cycle into main street, see if anyone is around,” Cadey answered lamely. It wasn’t a lie, she would cycle that way but then she’d head on through to the other side of town. She opened the fridge, tapping the freshly packed Tupperware boxes she’d stored in there.
“Food for you tonight. I’m going to go on if that’s okay Dad?”
“Of course, glad to see you getting out. I thought you were going to be stuck indoors all summer the way things were going,” Mark answered, warming up the coffee machine to get a caffeine boost. “Say hi to your friends for me.”
“Sure,” Cadey said, kissing him swiftly on the cheek before letting herself out the front door. The guilt of lying to her father was almost worse that the guilt of fucking Jermaine, something about looking her dad in the eye as she lied made her feel queasy again.
She went to the small shed in the back garden, unlocking the door and retrieving her bicycle. A bark from Jermaine’s side of the street made her look towards his home as she swung herself into the saddle. She could see his rottweiler, Lex, in the doorway to rear of his house. Jermaine wasn’t in sight, but Cadey just knew he was watching her at that moment. She didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by showing her nervousness or disquiet about her task ahead. She’d handed him far more pleasure than he deserved already. So, she kept her expression neutral as she pedaled away.
>
Life just seems to get its kicks in the oddest ways.
On any given Friday, Cadey might have headed down to main street and not meet even one of her friends out and about, not one. Enter a situation when she was heading out for her first experience as a sex worker, and she seemed to run into half of her fucking high school graduating year!
All she could do was make motion her ally. So long as she never stopped, then all she had to do was wave, smile, shout out a few inanities. Just keep pedaling, keep moving.
Khloe and Melissa, her two best friends, tried to stop her and Cadey knew that blasting past them was going to just look suspicious. It was the weekend. In a small shore town. In the summer. Nobody had anything urgent to do.
“Where’ve you been? I left you like, a thousand messages. Like what the fuck?” Melissa was a full-on drama queen and Cadey could actually feel her spirit pick up a little watching her friend flounce about, hands on hips as she berated Cadey.
“Sorry, my dad needed me.” Another lie, a little one. Her friends, close ones like this, knew how much Mark depended on Cadey at times and so they took the lie at face value.
“Well does he need you now?” This from Khloe, redhaired, freckled, slim and a bundle of nervous energy. So different from Melissa, with her dark Italian American colouring and plus sized figure. “Lacey Smith just messaged me, there’s a bunch of college guys staying over at someone’s place this weekend. They are planning some sort of party on the beach. You’ve got to come, seriously.”
“Oh, umm, sorry guys, it sucks but this isn’t a good time,” Cadey answered, trawling through her head for inspiration and an excuse they would buy.
“Not a good time? OMG! College guys plus beach party… that’s your good time, right there girl!” Mellisa declared, poking Cadey in the arm for emphasis.
“My Mom’s in town” Cadey blurted. “Yeah, she showed up which is why I’m kinda dressed up. Anyway, my dad wants me to make nice so that’s what I’m gonna do. For him like, not for that witch,” even in a lie, Cadey couldn’t, wouldn’t, cut her mom any slack.
“Oh” Melissa and Khloe chorused.
“Sure, we understand. Uh… say hi and all. Look, if you get free, message us, you know, come to the party all fashionably late and shit” Melissa said.
“Girl, you know I’m fashionable, late or early!” Cadey threw them a grin that ran no deeper Travesti bornnova than the surface of her face, cycling off before one of them twigged to her odd mood.
Thankfully the unscheduled stop hadn’t delayed her, and she was right on time as she cruised down the long street. All the houses along here were big and expensive, boasting tree lined driveways, long enough to isolate them from the quiet road on which they stood. Cadey turned her handlebars, swinging her bicycle to the right and through a pair of wrought iron gates that stood open at the top of the driveway leading to the address she’d been messaged. The road was familiar to her, but this was the first time Cadey was seeing this house up close, she had zero clue who lived here. She could have fit four of the modest house that she and her father lived in, into this almost mansion like structure in front of her. In the distance behind her, Cadey heard a clang, the sound of the gates she’d passed through closing shut.
She propped her bike up against a low ledge that ran in front of the house before she walked to the front door, nervously smoothing down her dress. She felt under dressed, not just for the occasion but for the location as well.
The same spirit that she’d inherited from her mother, that touch of recklessness and strong will, bubbled up to the surface. ‘Fuck ’em’ she thought. It wasn’t like being here was her choice so whatever impression she might make on them was their issue, not hers. No longer as nervous as she had been, Cadey pressed on the doorbell and waited.
>
The owner of the house knew she was there, why else close the gate behind her. But instead of the door being answered immediately, Cadey found herself being made to wait almost two minutes before she heard the sound of a latch being turned. She guessed that the delay was a simply a game, something designed to put her ill at ease. Knowing it didn’t stop it from happening though and there was more than a little trepidation within her as the door swung open.
The man standing in the doorway was probably the same age as Jermaine, sixty years old, perhaps a year or two older. Unlike Jermaine, he looked like it. A neatly trimmed goatee that was stark white in color framed his mouth, the wide thick lips drawn back now in a welcoming smile. His head was bald, on account of nature or a razor blade she couldn’t know, not a trace of stubble showing on it. Where Jermaine had been tall, broad and athletic, this man wasn’t much over five feet seven, though still much taller than her own five feet. He wore a pale green polo shirt tucked into fawn chino’s and his pot belly was visible as it strained over his belt. All of this was unexpected, she’d pictured… well something else, for her first time. What was really unexpected was that she recognized him.
Cadey didn’t know his name or anything but she’d seen him around the town on weekends. With his family.
She knew for a fact he had a wife. More than that he had at least two kids and they in turn had kids. Cadey had a clear recollection of this man and his extended family, all smiles and laughter as they passed by on the street. This man, her client, was a married Grandfather!
“Hello there young lady, I’ve been expecting you,” he said, Cadey stirring herself from her shock, hoping she hadn’t made it obvious looking.
“H-hi, Hi. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting. I’m not late, I think. I mean… I was told eight and its just eight now,” she babbled a little, not nervous so much as unsure how to make small talk, knowing what she knew about this man. She searched his face for a hint of recognition on his part but there was nothing, she was a stranger to him.
“You are right on time, come on inside,” he stepped back so that she could walk into the house. It was as opulent inside as it was large on the outside. She didn’t know a lot about art or furnishings, but she could tell the difference between old stuff that wasn’t worth ten cents and old stuff that was worth a fortune. Art lined the walls, gilt frames glinting as she passed them by. The man, she still didn’t know his name, had passed her by as she stepped into the hallway so that she was following behind him now. Her head turned from side to side taking it all in, barely taking care to watch her step as she climbed a wide marble staircase behind him.
Upstairs differed greatly to the ground floor. The furnishings here were softer, the pictures on the wall were personal and Cadey just knew that it had been the man who had overseen the decorating downstairs, his wife taking charge of the top floor of the house. She also knew she was right about having seen him before, that he was the same man she’d spotted around the town. Pictures of him and his wife together, older photographs of him as a younger man in his thirties or forties, his three children gathered around him confirmed it, Cadey remembering all these faces. More recent pictures, another gaggle of children pressing in tight about him for the camera to capture, seven grandkids happily posing for the picture with their grandfather.
“I’m Cadey,” she called out, trying to distract herself from the imagery about her, happy family portraits staring at her from the walls.
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