Not a day goes by when I don’t think of how harshly Mom treated ***. Even now, ten years later, those events are etched on my mind. ***’s tears, his black eyes, the sobbing and the humiliation. *** was transformed from a happy, doting father to an utterly defeated man during the space of just a few cruel months. Mom really treated him appallingly after he lost his job. She not only cuckolded him, she also stood by and watched her new lover utterly humble him, the man she had claimed to love, leaving my *** bereft of all dignity.
I was barely a teenager, just fourteen, when my Mom met her “new friend”. They say your early teens are your most impressionable, and I guess they are right cos those memories keep haunting me today. Geez, I guess those events may have scarred me me for the rest of my days.
My name’s Charlie and I was a bit of a nerd back in the day. I’d been diagnosed with a mild form of Aspergers at a young age, and was prone to the occasional screaming fit. I had models of the Starship Enterprise and the Millennium Falcon hanging from my bedroom ceiling and a train set running round the floor. I was never much interested in sports, despite ***’s best efforts, and I was very awkward around girls.
I was the product of ***’s earlier marriage that had ended in divorce when I was five. ***, well he’d ended up with custody of me. My natural mother never really taken to me. I wasn’t aware at the time, but later I discovered that she’d filed for divorce after finding out that *** was carrying a gene linked to Aspergers. She didn’t want any more nerdy kids like me, I guess.
Still, things weren’t at all bad living with *** after the divorce. Most of the time *** and I got along just fine. We lived in a decent-sized house in Northern Virginia with a pool and double garage. *** worked hard, juggling life as single parent with a good, full-time job as a computer technician at a big investment bank near Dupont Circle. He’d drop me at school before heading off to work, and take me to the park and the zoo on weekends. We’d visit the Smithsonian and the multiplexes together. If truth be told *** was a little nerdy too. He loved superhero and sci fi movies almost as much as me. During that time, he was my best buddy as well as my parent.
*** subscribed to some dating websites. He was hoping that he would meet someone new, someone nice like him, who he could marry and settle down with. Unfortunately, most women he dated didn’t really like the idea of caring for a nerdy, unpredictable teenager like me who was liable to embarrass them in public. In truth, most of ***’s relationships didn’t last more than a few months.
“Geez Charlie, there must be someone out there for me,” *** said after yet another attractive woman broke off their relationship. “What am I doing wrong, Charlie?”
“I dunno ***” I said. “But everyone thinks you’re really nice”
At the time I didn’t know, but today the cynic in me suspects that *** was just a little too nice. Bitter experience has since taught me that most women looking to couple are looking for tough alphas, big men with muscles and attitude.
It must have been around 2005 when *** first met Tasha, the woman who was destined to marry him and become my new Mom. *** had decided to look further afield for potential partners and started browsing international dating sites. You know the type of website I mean, hot East European women looking for a man in the US with plenty of money. Bitches that are looking for marriage, a visa and a privileged life, I guess.
Tasha lived in Serbia and I’ll tell you what, she was stunning. Video chat wasn’t common back then but *** was something of a geek and he set things up so that he Tasha were conversing on the computer screen regularly. Tasha was actually a beautiful woman, a cut above the fake, opinionated bitches *** had been dating in DC. Her English was good, and she made him laugh. She had flawless skin, wide, sexy eyes, long dark hair and superb breasts that thrust outwards. The only concern was that Tasha was a lot younger than ***. She was in her late twenties, while *** was in his early forties.
Soon *** had stopped dating the Beltway women, preferring instead to spend hours chatting with Tasha. He seemed so happy all the time, whistling and humming. I’d never seen him looking so excited.
“Guess what Charlie, she might just be the one,” *** confided in me one night. “I might just have gone and fallen in love.” He smiled broadly. “Hot Damn Charlie, I think this is it at last! I'm hit by the bug!”
***’s sister Julie wasn’t convinced by the match and was especially concerned about the age gap. She’d heard about these websites, and knew that such relationships often ended in costly divorces.
“Arnie, aren’t you being a bit naïve” Julie asked *** in my presence
“She says she loves me” *** said. “When you’re in love, age doesn’t matter, Julie. I really think this was meant to be.”
"Are you sure ***?" I asked. "Are you really sure?"
*** turned to me. “You’ll learn that one day Charlie" *** said. "Sometimes a man's just got to trust his instincts. You still have a lot to learn son.”
Well, it turned out that it was *** who still had a lot to learn. A lot to learn about how spiteful and selfish a prime bitch like Mom can be. It was *** who got schooled alright, although I guess I learned a lesson too.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
In the fall of 2006, *** flew to Belgrade to meet Tasha in person while I stayed with Julie. He returned a week later with a real spring in his step. Any worries about her age were now eased, he said. She was a former model, a jewelry designer, mature for her age, an intelligent, feminine woman whose simple dream was to live in the USA and raise a ******. Reading between the lines, I think *** might have had his first sex in about two years during that visit to Serbia.
They married in Paris two months later, and *** was over the moon. When he returned. I’d never seen him so happy. “I can’t wait for you to meet your new Mom, Charlie” he said. “Everything’s going to be perfect when she gets her visa."
“You know what, Charlie, I never knew life could be this sweet” *** said.
Getting all the paperwork together was a long process but *** paid a top lawyer to ease it all through. He also paid for Tasha to fast track her visa, which she received in a matter of months. We then prepared for her arrival by tidying the house from top to bottom. I raked the lawn and dredged the pool while *** cleaned the bathrooms and tidied the garage. We washed the car and trimmed the garden together, and both had haircuts. *** was on edge, but full of nervous energy.
We were due to meet my new Mom at Dulles on Sunday morning. *** dressed in his best suit, and both he and I had mini US and Serbian flags to wave.
Tasha turned the eyes of the men around her as she walked into the arrivals hall with her Gucci suitcases. It was winter and she had on a short fur, heels, gold jewelry, and a classic clingy Versace dress. She was maybe a little plump around her ass and thighs, but boy did she wear it well. Even as a fourteen year old, I recognized that my new Mom was something special. She had a hot, sexy body, and hell, that tight dress jiggled in all the right places as she walked. I admit she gave me a boner.
Her and *** kind of melted into each other’s arms and kissed passionately, right there in the arrivals hall. “I love you Arnie” I heard her say. “I’m so happy to finally be here”.
***'s face while in her arms was a beautiful sight to see.
Our life in Virginia started just swell. It was agreed that Mom would initially be a homemaker. Soon the house had a woman’s touch again. We had cut flowers, always had clean clothes, and the decor finally matched. Mom insisted on new carpets and bedding. She was eager to try all things American, from Burger King to Nieman Marcus, and enjoyed trying new types of food.
But what she liked to do most was go shopping. Mom was very particular about what she liked and didn’t like, and what she liked were the expensive brands. *** said she had a real “nose for quality” – but to be honest I thought her a bit of a snob.
After around six months Mom started hanging out with the embassy wives and diplomatic staff at the embassies of the former Yugoslavia – Croatia, Montenegro, Slovenia, and they went shopping, to restaurants or for drinks together. *** was working long hours; he confided in me one time that the household’s outgoings had tripled since Mom’s arrival. But still, *** was happy.
Mom had a gym membership, and was often in the hair and nail salon. She always looked very glamorous, and *** started calling her "My East European Princess." Though *** adored her, she was a little distant with me. Mom’s English was excellent already, but she tried to make conversation with me to learn American slang. She wouldn’t play or roughhouse but we often cooked and watched movies together. Her favourites were action movies with tough, macho leads.
For the first year or so, everything was fine. *** worked hard and Mom, she spent a lot of time shopping and at cocktail bars in upscale malls like Mazza Gallerie. Today I know that certain malls had a reputation as a pick up place where big black dudes hang out and come on to the married women, persuade them to have a drink, try to persuade white bitches that they could do better than what they’ve got at home.
Well, at some point I guess Mom must have been persuaded that she could do better than ***. She could have a stronger, more powerful, richer man. A true tough alpha male with attitude, a big cock, and plenty of money to spoil his hot bitch. And once Mom made that choice she was ruthless.
Things were mostly fine between them but as the months passed Mom and *** increasingly argued about money. Boy, did Mom have expensive tastes. We both soon realized that Mom also had a temper and a really harsh tongue on her. At time went on she became increasingly scornful and dismissive with ***.
He was struggling to keep up with the credit card payments and we were still sinking deeper into debt. One time, I remember Mom really scolded *** after he had tried to save money by shopping in Wal-Mart instead of Food Emporium. Stood at the top of the stairs, I heard them talking.
“I didn’t come to the US to live like this.” Mom said. "I don't eat this shit." Then I heard a crack and my *** emit a cry. Jeez, she must have slapped him, I thought.
Things came to a head soon afterwards when as the great recession took hold and *** lost his job. Suddenly we had zero income, ***’s investments were worthless and we had lots of bills to pay. Not least for Mom’s gym membership, salon trips, treatments, and frequent shopping trips for shoes and clothes.
Like I said, Mom had a real temper on her, and the full extent of her bitchiness became clear one evening after her credit card had been declined. She was furious with ***. I’d never seen her that angry. I stood at the top of the stairs once more and heard her scolding him.
“You shamed me in front of my friends” I heard Mom say. “That must never happen again, you hear me Arnie?”
Then I heard the sound of a slap. She’d slapped *** on the cheek.
“Are you a man? Mom said “You a man who know how to treat his woman?”
I heard the slapping sound again, and *** yowl.
“Baby, I’m sorry”, I heard *** plead. “It’s tough out there Princess, real tough. There’s just no work. People are being laid off everywhere. There has been nothing like it since the thirties baby.”
“But there’s a job waiting for you, I told you” Mom said “Clean the fucking cars if that’s what it takes. We need money now, not tomorrow”
“Princess listen, I can’t take that job, it will take up all my time, and I need to look for something better.” I heard *** say
“We need money now Arnie” Mom repeated. "We have bills to pay. You’ve been out of work three months now. Be a man and make some money”
There was a long silence
“I knew I shouldn’t have married you" Mom said. "I could have done so much better. You're so weak".
“Baby listen….”
“Get off your ass and start make some fucking money Arnie” Mom said sharply, striding off on her high heels. “You better shape up or I’m leaving you and your retard son.” She then strode out of the front door, got in the car and left.
That was the first time I heard *** sob, and that was even before Lamar started bullying him.
So *** took a job washing cars. It was only twelve bucks an hour, but he was putting in long shifts and pulling in a couple of thousand a month plus tips. Trouble is, he had no time to look for anything else, coming home as he did exhausted each night. Then, some nights, Mom didn’t come home. She'd go off shopping in the afternoon and not return until the next day. It was so sad to hear *** calling her name in vain when he got in from work.
Anyway, one day I came home from school, and the biggest, scariest black man I have ever seen, with tattoos on his face and rippling with muscles, was sat at our dining table. He must have been 6’8, and was dressed in a hip hop military style with very tight jogging bottoms and big army boots. He was dripping with jewelry, wore a baseball cap and had a gold tooth.
I was surprised to see *** was at home too. He was stood at the kitchen sink, cleaning the counter, and appeared to be trembling.
“Hey, you must be Charlie” the big black man said to me. He offered his fist for a fist bump, then caught my hand and shook it in a complex fashion
“I’m Mommy’s friend Lamar, how ya doin?”
“Fine, I guess” I said.
“I’m ya ***’s boss” Lamar said to me. “I own a chain of auto shops back in Maryland, and now I’m expanding south”
Then Mom walked in from the lounge. She was wearing really tight stretchy denim-colored jeans, jeggings I think they call them, and they were nothing short of scandalous. They were as tight as a pantyhose but without the seams. You could see every contour of Mom’s hot legs and ass, hell you could even see the contours of her sex. She looked stunning. She wore black spike heels, a tight clinging top with no bra and a short choker with some writing on it, the letters in gold.
“Lamar is our friend from Baltimore Charlie” Mom said. "He’s staying over for a while. *** works for him now. Lamar is in charge of ***. He's ***'s boss”
I looked at her choker. It spelt B-I-T-C-H
"Arnie does as he's told now, don't ya Arnie?" Lamar said.
"Arnie knows his fucking place now, don't ya Arnie?" Lamar said.
*** just stared at the sink in front of him. He was scrubbing at a stain and it looked like he was hyperventilating slightly. He looked terrified actually.
“You OK Arnie? Lamar said to my ***.
“Yes..er yes fine” *** muttered.
“That stain coming out boy?”
*** made a noise, I think he said “Yes”
There was then silence for a while apart from the sound of *** scrubbing
“Hey, you work out Charlie?” Lamar said suddenly "You got a gym?"
“Er..nah” I said. “But I have a bicycle.”
“Good to work out plenty otherwise you end up a scrawny and weak and the ladies don’t want ya” Lamar said. “You don’t want that do ya Charlie?"
“Er…no I guess not” I said
"You hear that Arnie?" Lamar said, but *** didn't reply,
Lamar then walked right up to ***, spun him around and tapped him on the chest, hard
“Aint that right Arnie?” Lamar said.
*** just kind of gulped and gurgled.
“Aint that fuckin’ right boy!" Lamar growled
All the time my Mom was just looking on, smoking a cigarette and breathing heavily.
“You gotta bulk up or the bitches, they gonna go elsewhere” Lamar said. “Bitches don’t like weak men. If you scrawny and weak da bitches don’t want you.”
He poked my *** again, even harder, in the chest, making him stumble backwards
“Aint that right Arnie?” Lamar said.
“Yes Lamar that’s right” *** said. "That's right"
There was another long silence
“You think Mom looks pretty, Charlie? Lamar said
I glanced over at Mom. Pretty yes, but even at my young age I knew she was dressed to attract men - dressed for sex, dressed like a slut.
“Mom's a prime bitch, she deserves the best 'aint that right Arnie?” Lamar asked my ***. He prodded *** once more.
“I guess” *** finally said. He sounded defeated.
"You guess what Arnie?" Lamar said. "You guess what?"
"She's a prime bitch" *** almost whispered. He was looking down at the floor, while my pretty Mom gazed on
"Dat's right boy. Bitch prefers black men now, don't she Arnie?"
"I guess" *** muttered.
"Now get back to work, and don't let me catch ya slackin' " Lamar said to ***.
Another silence followed.
“You like the movies Charlie? Lamar then said to me.
“Sure” I replied.
I’d actually not been to the movies since *** lost his job. It was crappy because Avatar, Iron Man and Star Trek were all out.
Lamar then peeled a 100 buck note from a bill roll, there must have been thousands of bucks on it. I just gawped, and *** did too.
“Why don’t you take off and see a film, Star Wars or some shit?” Lamar said. “You like Star Wars Charlie?
“Like wooow!” I replied. “Are you sure? A hundred bucks?
So I set off to the mall on my bike to see Avatar. It was stunning, and I actually forgot about the drama at home and escaped to the magical world of Pandora for almost three fantastic hours. I also had four boxes of Crackerjack and unlimited soda. All in all it was a great evening, and thinking about it probably the best time to escape into another world. I really felt sorry for the Na'vi though.
When I got back home *** was sitting on the sofa sobbing. He had a black eye. There was no sign of Mom or Lamar. The kitchen as a mess, some of the dishes were smashed, in pieces on the floor.
“What happened ***?” I exclaimed
“Nothing, Charlie, really, I’ll be okay” he said.
But *** didn’t look like he would be okay. His left eye was almost closed, and he was dabbing it with an ice pack.
“Really ***, are you okay? I went and sat next to him on the sofa. “What happened ***, tell me?”
*** didn’t reply, he was trying to suppress sobs. The TV was on low, I remember it was Animal Planet – a program about the ****** life and breeding habits of baboons.
“Tell me ***” I said. “Did Lamar hit you? Where's Mom?”
But *** said nothing. It was like he was in a daze. He just stared at the TV screen.
Then I began to hear them. The sounds from upstairs. We both heard them. It was impossible not to. They dominated the room.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
I honestly didn’t know what that sound was at first. At first I thought someone was banging on the floor above, maybe doing some carpentry work. But there was also a squelchy sound, as though someone was lifting their boots out of deep, wet mud.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Suqelch! Squelch! Squelch!
“What’s that noise ***?” I asked.
*** just turned up the TV. On the screen, a big, mean looking alpha male baboon had mauled a beta male’s ear and had then chased it away.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Squelch Squelch Squelch!
The noises from upstairs got louder and louder. I could also now make out female squeals and mewls of pleasure. I knew what the sound was now, we both did. It was the sound of Mom being fucked by Lamar.
*** turned the sound up on the TV even more. It was really loud. He was trembling.
“The alpha male and the female breed while the beta male licks his wounds” the TV commentator said.”The beta male may live to fight another day, but he will certainly not encroach on the alpha male’s territory again.”
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Squelch Squelch Squelch!
"Females will always choose an alpha male over a beta" The TV commentator said. 'This ensures that their offspring will be stronger, which means that the entire group grow in strength".
Suddenly *** threw the remote at the TV screen, yelled "Noooooo!!!" and stumbled into the garage.
I went and got myself a Tootsie Roll and a glass of milk and then followed him. I found him sitting on the sofa in the garage, a cushion on his lap. He was rocking back and forth in a repetitive action. I sat down next to him.
“***, please speak to me” I said. A long silence followed.
“He’s a bully, Charlie” *** eventually said
“And she’s….she’s a bitch" he said. "Mom's spiteful Charlie. I don't think that she ever really cared for me, she only wanted the visa and my money”
“Mom’s been watching him bully me and doing nothing about it, nothing at all” *** said. “She’s just been watching it happen. She told me I deserve it for being a weak man”.
Through his sobs *** explained that Mom’s “new friend” Lamar was some kind of hot shot gangster with a penthouse on Baltimore’s Inner Harbour who’d met Mom at a snooty Mall bar in DC. She’d been visiting him in Maryland for a while. And when *** had lost his well paid job she’d decided he was worth less than nothing. So she had invited her black lover Lamar home with her, to use the pool... and then Lamar decided to teach *** a lesson.
“He’s been using the pool and...and beating me up…..” *** sobbed. "I never wanted to work for him, but she insisted. And now...."
“…. he keeps humiliating me in front of Mom” *** said again. “He’s just a bully. He's a racist too, he thinks black men are superior to white men. He's serious”
"Does Mom think that too?" I asked ***.
“But why doesn’t Mom tell Lamar to stop picking on you, ***? I asked.
*** didn't have a reply.
“Please, please, couldn’t you speak to Mom Charlie?” *** said, sobbing again.
I couldn’t believe it. Did *** want me to appeal to Mom to leave Lamar and return to him? Or did he want me to simply ask Mom to stop Lamar bullying him?
I guess he’d done no end of appealing to Mom over the past few months, but to no avail.
“Why don’t you go to the police ***?" I asked. He looked at me aghast.
“I’m scared of him Charlie, I’m so scared” *** said. “He told me to do exactly as he says or he’ll beat me even harder. I’m scared he’ll really hurt me. He says that he's getting revenge for slavery. He's even threatened to whip me.”
I’m embarrassed to admit it, but at that moment I was ashamed of my ***. He was weak, and he was crying. *** wasn't a strong alpha male, I thought.
“***, you can’t let this happen, you’ve got to stop it. You’ve got to fight” I said. “Like Rebel Resistance in Star Wars, you’ve got to fight against the Dark Side. You’ve got to win Mom back.”
“I’ll try Charlie I will but I’m scared” *** sobbed.
“If only you had superpowers ***” I said, kinda jokingly, but *** didn't respond.
"Is Lamar an alpha male ***?" I asked.
*** didn't reply. Instead he simply curled up on the sofa and closed his eyes. He looked so weak and defeated, I thought. I then went up to my bedroom. Actually, I just couldn’t deal with my *** in that state. The sex noises were even louder from *** and Mom’s bedroom, so I just put my Bose headphones on and started playing GTA.
The next morning I went down for breakfast. Mom and Lamar were sat at the breakfast table and *** was stood at an ironing board doing the ironing. He had a pink apron on. Lamar was dressed in just a pair of boxer briefs, his physique was immense and intimidating. I could see the outline of his huge cock under the tight briefs. He had tattoos all over his body including a prominent "Black Power" fist on his neck.
Mom was wearing the same scandalous jeggings and heels as the day before, and a new T-short in the hip hop style, and a baseball cap. She was wearing the same B-I-T-C-H choker as before. Her tight leggings ended mid-calf, and I noticed a tattoo above her left ankle I hadn't seen before. It looked like a symbol from a deck of cards.
Then I noticed that in addition to his black eye, *** had a split lip
“Charlie, listen, *** and Lamar had a little fight about my new tattoo” Mom said. “But it’s all finished now and we’re all friends again”
I looked back at *** and saw his lip that was bleeding slightly. Then I glanced back at Mom, who had her legs crossed. Then I noticed that the deck of cards tattoo symbol above her ankle was the Queen of Spades.
“We're all friends again aren’t we Arnie” Mom said "There'll be no more trouble.
“Yes” *** said.
You want breakfast Charlie?” Lamar then said. “Arnie here’s cooked up some breakfast for us all.”
“But the hash browns are raw” Mom said coldly
“Arnie already paid for dat one, didn’t you Arnie?” Lamar laughed. "You don't fuck up my bitch's food"
“Bitch, serve up de breakfast” Lamar said to my ***, who proceeded to prepare me a plate.
Actually the breakfast was really nice, I had sausage links, bacon, fried tomatoes, mushrooms and hash browns, which weren’t that bad actually just a bit undercooked.
“Why don’t you have any brothers or sisters Charlie?” Lamar asked. “Do you want a baby sister or baby brother to play with?”
Yeah, uh, I guess that would be cool” I said. *** winced at that, but what could I say?
“Why Lamar?" I said
“Hot bitch gonna get bred by a superior black man, ain’t that right Arnie? Lamar said to my ***
*** was sobbing again, but managed to mutter “yes” between sobs.
“Hot bitch needin de black prong, aint that right Arnie” Lamar said. "She don't want you no more, right?"
"Yes" my *** simply said
"Bitch prefers black now, ain't that right Arnie?" Lamar said. "She dumped ya white ass, right boy?"
"Black Power Arnie" Lamar said, raising his fist. "Do it bitch!"
My *** raised his limp, weak looking arm and murmored "black power." He looked so defeated, I thought.
“Clean dat floor” Lamar then said to my ***, pointing at the tiled floor in the kitchen.
“Breeding bitch deserves a spotless house, got dat Arnie?" Lamar said. "Keep it clean or you in big trouble"
Lamat then strode up and bitch-slapped *** a few times to make sure he “got the message” as he put it. As he bitch slapped ***, Mom stood up, strode over in her sexy heels and looked on, her breasts hard under her thin T-shit, her big nipples prominent, and just stared at *** being slapped.
Then, Mom started licking Lamar's bare torso and rubbing herself against him, as though she was desperate for his attention.
"You're so strong" Mom said.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
"Bitch is on heat, needin da black prong" Lamar said.
“Clean dat floor while I seed Tash” Lamar said to ***.
Lamar then took Mom’s hand and led her upstairs, her gorgeous big ass swaying on the stairs in those jeggings and heels. She was being led to be bred, I thought. Bred by an alpha male. I swear Mom’s bitch heat lingered in the air after she had gone. I could smell that sweet pre-coupling scent as *** assembled the Swiffer.
A few months later, Mom filed for divorce. *** was a wreck by then, but I had adjusted to the situation somewhat. The upside of Lamar being around was that the house was always clean and I got to go to the movies whenever I liked.
Mom used the same lawyer that *** had used to fast-track her into the US. *** had signed a load of papers, and it turned out some were false statements about his income and how long he’d known Mom. Unluckily for ***, it turned out that lying in an immigration application is a felony offence that entails jail time.
*** was presented with a dossier on his crimes that would be passed on to law enforcement if he didn’t agree to the divorce on Mom and Lamar’s terms. After his credit card debts were paid off from his paltry share of the house sale, *** was left with nothing. We were forced to move into a small apartment close to the projects. But at least *** still had his job at the car wash.
After she filed for divorce we didn't see much of Mom. But one day *** told me that she had visited him at work. She had driven by for a hand wash in a new Porsche Roadster, which is a great car. Mom said that Lamar would give me a ride in it, and also get me tickets to Comicon. Believe it or not Lamar was as good as his word. He took me for a ride the following week, and I enjoyed every second of it my first Comicon. He may have been mean to *** but Lamar was pretty good to me.
I’ve actually been a regular at Comicon ever since, but that’s a different story to how harshly Mom and Lamar treated ***.
I was barely a teenager, just fourteen, when my Mom met her “new friend”. They say your early teens are your most impressionable, and I guess they are right cos those memories keep haunting me today. Geez, I guess those events may have scarred me me for the rest of my days.
My name’s Charlie and I was a bit of a nerd back in the day. I’d been diagnosed with a mild form of Aspergers at a young age, and was prone to the occasional screaming fit. I had models of the Starship Enterprise and the Millennium Falcon hanging from my bedroom ceiling and a train set running round the floor. I was never much interested in sports, despite ***’s best efforts, and I was very awkward around girls.
I was the product of ***’s earlier marriage that had ended in divorce when I was five. ***, well he’d ended up with custody of me. My natural mother never really taken to me. I wasn’t aware at the time, but later I discovered that she’d filed for divorce after finding out that *** was carrying a gene linked to Aspergers. She didn’t want any more nerdy kids like me, I guess.
Still, things weren’t at all bad living with *** after the divorce. Most of the time *** and I got along just fine. We lived in a decent-sized house in Northern Virginia with a pool and double garage. *** worked hard, juggling life as single parent with a good, full-time job as a computer technician at a big investment bank near Dupont Circle. He’d drop me at school before heading off to work, and take me to the park and the zoo on weekends. We’d visit the Smithsonian and the multiplexes together. If truth be told *** was a little nerdy too. He loved superhero and sci fi movies almost as much as me. During that time, he was my best buddy as well as my parent.
*** subscribed to some dating websites. He was hoping that he would meet someone new, someone nice like him, who he could marry and settle down with. Unfortunately, most women he dated didn’t really like the idea of caring for a nerdy, unpredictable teenager like me who was liable to embarrass them in public. In truth, most of ***’s relationships didn’t last more than a few months.
“Geez Charlie, there must be someone out there for me,” *** said after yet another attractive woman broke off their relationship. “What am I doing wrong, Charlie?”
“I dunno ***” I said. “But everyone thinks you’re really nice”
At the time I didn’t know, but today the cynic in me suspects that *** was just a little too nice. Bitter experience has since taught me that most women looking to couple are looking for tough alphas, big men with muscles and attitude.
It must have been around 2005 when *** first met Tasha, the woman who was destined to marry him and become my new Mom. *** had decided to look further afield for potential partners and started browsing international dating sites. You know the type of website I mean, hot East European women looking for a man in the US with plenty of money. Bitches that are looking for marriage, a visa and a privileged life, I guess.
Tasha lived in Serbia and I’ll tell you what, she was stunning. Video chat wasn’t common back then but *** was something of a geek and he set things up so that he Tasha were conversing on the computer screen regularly. Tasha was actually a beautiful woman, a cut above the fake, opinionated bitches *** had been dating in DC. Her English was good, and she made him laugh. She had flawless skin, wide, sexy eyes, long dark hair and superb breasts that thrust outwards. The only concern was that Tasha was a lot younger than ***. She was in her late twenties, while *** was in his early forties.
Soon *** had stopped dating the Beltway women, preferring instead to spend hours chatting with Tasha. He seemed so happy all the time, whistling and humming. I’d never seen him looking so excited.
“Guess what Charlie, she might just be the one,” *** confided in me one night. “I might just have gone and fallen in love.” He smiled broadly. “Hot Damn Charlie, I think this is it at last! I'm hit by the bug!”
***’s sister Julie wasn’t convinced by the match and was especially concerned about the age gap. She’d heard about these websites, and knew that such relationships often ended in costly divorces.
“Arnie, aren’t you being a bit naïve” Julie asked *** in my presence
“She says she loves me” *** said. “When you’re in love, age doesn’t matter, Julie. I really think this was meant to be.”
"Are you sure ***?" I asked. "Are you really sure?"
*** turned to me. “You’ll learn that one day Charlie" *** said. "Sometimes a man's just got to trust his instincts. You still have a lot to learn son.”
Well, it turned out that it was *** who still had a lot to learn. A lot to learn about how spiteful and selfish a prime bitch like Mom can be. It was *** who got schooled alright, although I guess I learned a lesson too.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
In the fall of 2006, *** flew to Belgrade to meet Tasha in person while I stayed with Julie. He returned a week later with a real spring in his step. Any worries about her age were now eased, he said. She was a former model, a jewelry designer, mature for her age, an intelligent, feminine woman whose simple dream was to live in the USA and raise a ******. Reading between the lines, I think *** might have had his first sex in about two years during that visit to Serbia.
They married in Paris two months later, and *** was over the moon. When he returned. I’d never seen him so happy. “I can’t wait for you to meet your new Mom, Charlie” he said. “Everything’s going to be perfect when she gets her visa."
“You know what, Charlie, I never knew life could be this sweet” *** said.
Getting all the paperwork together was a long process but *** paid a top lawyer to ease it all through. He also paid for Tasha to fast track her visa, which she received in a matter of months. We then prepared for her arrival by tidying the house from top to bottom. I raked the lawn and dredged the pool while *** cleaned the bathrooms and tidied the garage. We washed the car and trimmed the garden together, and both had haircuts. *** was on edge, but full of nervous energy.
We were due to meet my new Mom at Dulles on Sunday morning. *** dressed in his best suit, and both he and I had mini US and Serbian flags to wave.
Tasha turned the eyes of the men around her as she walked into the arrivals hall with her Gucci suitcases. It was winter and she had on a short fur, heels, gold jewelry, and a classic clingy Versace dress. She was maybe a little plump around her ass and thighs, but boy did she wear it well. Even as a fourteen year old, I recognized that my new Mom was something special. She had a hot, sexy body, and hell, that tight dress jiggled in all the right places as she walked. I admit she gave me a boner.
Her and *** kind of melted into each other’s arms and kissed passionately, right there in the arrivals hall. “I love you Arnie” I heard her say. “I’m so happy to finally be here”.
***'s face while in her arms was a beautiful sight to see.
Our life in Virginia started just swell. It was agreed that Mom would initially be a homemaker. Soon the house had a woman’s touch again. We had cut flowers, always had clean clothes, and the decor finally matched. Mom insisted on new carpets and bedding. She was eager to try all things American, from Burger King to Nieman Marcus, and enjoyed trying new types of food.
But what she liked to do most was go shopping. Mom was very particular about what she liked and didn’t like, and what she liked were the expensive brands. *** said she had a real “nose for quality” – but to be honest I thought her a bit of a snob.
After around six months Mom started hanging out with the embassy wives and diplomatic staff at the embassies of the former Yugoslavia – Croatia, Montenegro, Slovenia, and they went shopping, to restaurants or for drinks together. *** was working long hours; he confided in me one time that the household’s outgoings had tripled since Mom’s arrival. But still, *** was happy.
Mom had a gym membership, and was often in the hair and nail salon. She always looked very glamorous, and *** started calling her "My East European Princess." Though *** adored her, she was a little distant with me. Mom’s English was excellent already, but she tried to make conversation with me to learn American slang. She wouldn’t play or roughhouse but we often cooked and watched movies together. Her favourites were action movies with tough, macho leads.
For the first year or so, everything was fine. *** worked hard and Mom, she spent a lot of time shopping and at cocktail bars in upscale malls like Mazza Gallerie. Today I know that certain malls had a reputation as a pick up place where big black dudes hang out and come on to the married women, persuade them to have a drink, try to persuade white bitches that they could do better than what they’ve got at home.
Well, at some point I guess Mom must have been persuaded that she could do better than ***. She could have a stronger, more powerful, richer man. A true tough alpha male with attitude, a big cock, and plenty of money to spoil his hot bitch. And once Mom made that choice she was ruthless.
Things were mostly fine between them but as the months passed Mom and *** increasingly argued about money. Boy, did Mom have expensive tastes. We both soon realized that Mom also had a temper and a really harsh tongue on her. At time went on she became increasingly scornful and dismissive with ***.
He was struggling to keep up with the credit card payments and we were still sinking deeper into debt. One time, I remember Mom really scolded *** after he had tried to save money by shopping in Wal-Mart instead of Food Emporium. Stood at the top of the stairs, I heard them talking.
“I didn’t come to the US to live like this.” Mom said. "I don't eat this shit." Then I heard a crack and my *** emit a cry. Jeez, she must have slapped him, I thought.
Things came to a head soon afterwards when as the great recession took hold and *** lost his job. Suddenly we had zero income, ***’s investments were worthless and we had lots of bills to pay. Not least for Mom’s gym membership, salon trips, treatments, and frequent shopping trips for shoes and clothes.
Like I said, Mom had a real temper on her, and the full extent of her bitchiness became clear one evening after her credit card had been declined. She was furious with ***. I’d never seen her that angry. I stood at the top of the stairs once more and heard her scolding him.
“You shamed me in front of my friends” I heard Mom say. “That must never happen again, you hear me Arnie?”
Then I heard the sound of a slap. She’d slapped *** on the cheek.
“Are you a man? Mom said “You a man who know how to treat his woman?”
I heard the slapping sound again, and *** yowl.
“Baby, I’m sorry”, I heard *** plead. “It’s tough out there Princess, real tough. There’s just no work. People are being laid off everywhere. There has been nothing like it since the thirties baby.”
“But there’s a job waiting for you, I told you” Mom said “Clean the fucking cars if that’s what it takes. We need money now, not tomorrow”
“Princess listen, I can’t take that job, it will take up all my time, and I need to look for something better.” I heard *** say
“We need money now Arnie” Mom repeated. "We have bills to pay. You’ve been out of work three months now. Be a man and make some money”
There was a long silence
“I knew I shouldn’t have married you" Mom said. "I could have done so much better. You're so weak".
“Baby listen….”
“Get off your ass and start make some fucking money Arnie” Mom said sharply, striding off on her high heels. “You better shape up or I’m leaving you and your retard son.” She then strode out of the front door, got in the car and left.
That was the first time I heard *** sob, and that was even before Lamar started bullying him.
So *** took a job washing cars. It was only twelve bucks an hour, but he was putting in long shifts and pulling in a couple of thousand a month plus tips. Trouble is, he had no time to look for anything else, coming home as he did exhausted each night. Then, some nights, Mom didn’t come home. She'd go off shopping in the afternoon and not return until the next day. It was so sad to hear *** calling her name in vain when he got in from work.
Anyway, one day I came home from school, and the biggest, scariest black man I have ever seen, with tattoos on his face and rippling with muscles, was sat at our dining table. He must have been 6’8, and was dressed in a hip hop military style with very tight jogging bottoms and big army boots. He was dripping with jewelry, wore a baseball cap and had a gold tooth.
I was surprised to see *** was at home too. He was stood at the kitchen sink, cleaning the counter, and appeared to be trembling.
“Hey, you must be Charlie” the big black man said to me. He offered his fist for a fist bump, then caught my hand and shook it in a complex fashion
“I’m Mommy’s friend Lamar, how ya doin?”
“Fine, I guess” I said.
“I’m ya ***’s boss” Lamar said to me. “I own a chain of auto shops back in Maryland, and now I’m expanding south”
Then Mom walked in from the lounge. She was wearing really tight stretchy denim-colored jeans, jeggings I think they call them, and they were nothing short of scandalous. They were as tight as a pantyhose but without the seams. You could see every contour of Mom’s hot legs and ass, hell you could even see the contours of her sex. She looked stunning. She wore black spike heels, a tight clinging top with no bra and a short choker with some writing on it, the letters in gold.
“Lamar is our friend from Baltimore Charlie” Mom said. "He’s staying over for a while. *** works for him now. Lamar is in charge of ***. He's ***'s boss”
I looked at her choker. It spelt B-I-T-C-H
"Arnie does as he's told now, don't ya Arnie?" Lamar said.
"Arnie knows his fucking place now, don't ya Arnie?" Lamar said.
*** just stared at the sink in front of him. He was scrubbing at a stain and it looked like he was hyperventilating slightly. He looked terrified actually.
“You OK Arnie? Lamar said to my ***.
“Yes..er yes fine” *** muttered.
“That stain coming out boy?”
*** made a noise, I think he said “Yes”
There was then silence for a while apart from the sound of *** scrubbing
“Hey, you work out Charlie?” Lamar said suddenly "You got a gym?"
“Er..nah” I said. “But I have a bicycle.”
“Good to work out plenty otherwise you end up a scrawny and weak and the ladies don’t want ya” Lamar said. “You don’t want that do ya Charlie?"
“Er…no I guess not” I said
"You hear that Arnie?" Lamar said, but *** didn't reply,
Lamar then walked right up to ***, spun him around and tapped him on the chest, hard
“Aint that right Arnie?” Lamar said.
*** just kind of gulped and gurgled.
“Aint that fuckin’ right boy!" Lamar growled
All the time my Mom was just looking on, smoking a cigarette and breathing heavily.
“You gotta bulk up or the bitches, they gonna go elsewhere” Lamar said. “Bitches don’t like weak men. If you scrawny and weak da bitches don’t want you.”
He poked my *** again, even harder, in the chest, making him stumble backwards
“Aint that right Arnie?” Lamar said.
“Yes Lamar that’s right” *** said. "That's right"
There was another long silence
“You think Mom looks pretty, Charlie? Lamar said
I glanced over at Mom. Pretty yes, but even at my young age I knew she was dressed to attract men - dressed for sex, dressed like a slut.
“Mom's a prime bitch, she deserves the best 'aint that right Arnie?” Lamar asked my ***. He prodded *** once more.
“I guess” *** finally said. He sounded defeated.
"You guess what Arnie?" Lamar said. "You guess what?"
"She's a prime bitch" *** almost whispered. He was looking down at the floor, while my pretty Mom gazed on
"Dat's right boy. Bitch prefers black men now, don't she Arnie?"
"I guess" *** muttered.
"Now get back to work, and don't let me catch ya slackin' " Lamar said to ***.
Another silence followed.
“You like the movies Charlie? Lamar then said to me.
“Sure” I replied.
I’d actually not been to the movies since *** lost his job. It was crappy because Avatar, Iron Man and Star Trek were all out.
Lamar then peeled a 100 buck note from a bill roll, there must have been thousands of bucks on it. I just gawped, and *** did too.
“Why don’t you take off and see a film, Star Wars or some shit?” Lamar said. “You like Star Wars Charlie?
“Like wooow!” I replied. “Are you sure? A hundred bucks?
So I set off to the mall on my bike to see Avatar. It was stunning, and I actually forgot about the drama at home and escaped to the magical world of Pandora for almost three fantastic hours. I also had four boxes of Crackerjack and unlimited soda. All in all it was a great evening, and thinking about it probably the best time to escape into another world. I really felt sorry for the Na'vi though.
When I got back home *** was sitting on the sofa sobbing. He had a black eye. There was no sign of Mom or Lamar. The kitchen as a mess, some of the dishes were smashed, in pieces on the floor.
“What happened ***?” I exclaimed
“Nothing, Charlie, really, I’ll be okay” he said.
But *** didn’t look like he would be okay. His left eye was almost closed, and he was dabbing it with an ice pack.
“Really ***, are you okay? I went and sat next to him on the sofa. “What happened ***, tell me?”
*** didn’t reply, he was trying to suppress sobs. The TV was on low, I remember it was Animal Planet – a program about the ****** life and breeding habits of baboons.
“Tell me ***” I said. “Did Lamar hit you? Where's Mom?”
But *** said nothing. It was like he was in a daze. He just stared at the TV screen.
Then I began to hear them. The sounds from upstairs. We both heard them. It was impossible not to. They dominated the room.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
I honestly didn’t know what that sound was at first. At first I thought someone was banging on the floor above, maybe doing some carpentry work. But there was also a squelchy sound, as though someone was lifting their boots out of deep, wet mud.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Suqelch! Squelch! Squelch!
“What’s that noise ***?” I asked.
*** just turned up the TV. On the screen, a big, mean looking alpha male baboon had mauled a beta male’s ear and had then chased it away.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Squelch Squelch Squelch!
The noises from upstairs got louder and louder. I could also now make out female squeals and mewls of pleasure. I knew what the sound was now, we both did. It was the sound of Mom being fucked by Lamar.
*** turned the sound up on the TV even more. It was really loud. He was trembling.
“The alpha male and the female breed while the beta male licks his wounds” the TV commentator said.”The beta male may live to fight another day, but he will certainly not encroach on the alpha male’s territory again.”
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Squelch Squelch Squelch!
"Females will always choose an alpha male over a beta" The TV commentator said. 'This ensures that their offspring will be stronger, which means that the entire group grow in strength".
Suddenly *** threw the remote at the TV screen, yelled "Noooooo!!!" and stumbled into the garage.
I went and got myself a Tootsie Roll and a glass of milk and then followed him. I found him sitting on the sofa in the garage, a cushion on his lap. He was rocking back and forth in a repetitive action. I sat down next to him.
“***, please speak to me” I said. A long silence followed.
“He’s a bully, Charlie” *** eventually said
“And she’s….she’s a bitch" he said. "Mom's spiteful Charlie. I don't think that she ever really cared for me, she only wanted the visa and my money”
“Mom’s been watching him bully me and doing nothing about it, nothing at all” *** said. “She’s just been watching it happen. She told me I deserve it for being a weak man”.
Through his sobs *** explained that Mom’s “new friend” Lamar was some kind of hot shot gangster with a penthouse on Baltimore’s Inner Harbour who’d met Mom at a snooty Mall bar in DC. She’d been visiting him in Maryland for a while. And when *** had lost his well paid job she’d decided he was worth less than nothing. So she had invited her black lover Lamar home with her, to use the pool... and then Lamar decided to teach *** a lesson.
“He’s been using the pool and...and beating me up…..” *** sobbed. "I never wanted to work for him, but she insisted. And now...."
“…. he keeps humiliating me in front of Mom” *** said again. “He’s just a bully. He's a racist too, he thinks black men are superior to white men. He's serious”
"Does Mom think that too?" I asked ***.
“But why doesn’t Mom tell Lamar to stop picking on you, ***? I asked.
*** didn't have a reply.
“Please, please, couldn’t you speak to Mom Charlie?” *** said, sobbing again.
I couldn’t believe it. Did *** want me to appeal to Mom to leave Lamar and return to him? Or did he want me to simply ask Mom to stop Lamar bullying him?
I guess he’d done no end of appealing to Mom over the past few months, but to no avail.
“Why don’t you go to the police ***?" I asked. He looked at me aghast.
“I’m scared of him Charlie, I’m so scared” *** said. “He told me to do exactly as he says or he’ll beat me even harder. I’m scared he’ll really hurt me. He says that he's getting revenge for slavery. He's even threatened to whip me.”
I’m embarrassed to admit it, but at that moment I was ashamed of my ***. He was weak, and he was crying. *** wasn't a strong alpha male, I thought.
“***, you can’t let this happen, you’ve got to stop it. You’ve got to fight” I said. “Like Rebel Resistance in Star Wars, you’ve got to fight against the Dark Side. You’ve got to win Mom back.”
“I’ll try Charlie I will but I’m scared” *** sobbed.
“If only you had superpowers ***” I said, kinda jokingly, but *** didn't respond.
"Is Lamar an alpha male ***?" I asked.
*** didn't reply. Instead he simply curled up on the sofa and closed his eyes. He looked so weak and defeated, I thought. I then went up to my bedroom. Actually, I just couldn’t deal with my *** in that state. The sex noises were even louder from *** and Mom’s bedroom, so I just put my Bose headphones on and started playing GTA.
The next morning I went down for breakfast. Mom and Lamar were sat at the breakfast table and *** was stood at an ironing board doing the ironing. He had a pink apron on. Lamar was dressed in just a pair of boxer briefs, his physique was immense and intimidating. I could see the outline of his huge cock under the tight briefs. He had tattoos all over his body including a prominent "Black Power" fist on his neck.
Mom was wearing the same scandalous jeggings and heels as the day before, and a new T-short in the hip hop style, and a baseball cap. She was wearing the same B-I-T-C-H choker as before. Her tight leggings ended mid-calf, and I noticed a tattoo above her left ankle I hadn't seen before. It looked like a symbol from a deck of cards.
Then I noticed that in addition to his black eye, *** had a split lip
“Charlie, listen, *** and Lamar had a little fight about my new tattoo” Mom said. “But it’s all finished now and we’re all friends again”
I looked back at *** and saw his lip that was bleeding slightly. Then I glanced back at Mom, who had her legs crossed. Then I noticed that the deck of cards tattoo symbol above her ankle was the Queen of Spades.
“We're all friends again aren’t we Arnie” Mom said "There'll be no more trouble.
“Yes” *** said.
You want breakfast Charlie?” Lamar then said. “Arnie here’s cooked up some breakfast for us all.”
“But the hash browns are raw” Mom said coldly
“Arnie already paid for dat one, didn’t you Arnie?” Lamar laughed. "You don't fuck up my bitch's food"
“Bitch, serve up de breakfast” Lamar said to my ***, who proceeded to prepare me a plate.
Actually the breakfast was really nice, I had sausage links, bacon, fried tomatoes, mushrooms and hash browns, which weren’t that bad actually just a bit undercooked.
“Why don’t you have any brothers or sisters Charlie?” Lamar asked. “Do you want a baby sister or baby brother to play with?”
Yeah, uh, I guess that would be cool” I said. *** winced at that, but what could I say?
“Why Lamar?" I said
“Hot bitch gonna get bred by a superior black man, ain’t that right Arnie? Lamar said to my ***
*** was sobbing again, but managed to mutter “yes” between sobs.
“Hot bitch needin de black prong, aint that right Arnie” Lamar said. "She don't want you no more, right?"
"Yes" my *** simply said
"Bitch prefers black now, ain't that right Arnie?" Lamar said. "She dumped ya white ass, right boy?"
"Black Power Arnie" Lamar said, raising his fist. "Do it bitch!"
My *** raised his limp, weak looking arm and murmored "black power." He looked so defeated, I thought.
“Clean dat floor” Lamar then said to my ***, pointing at the tiled floor in the kitchen.
“Breeding bitch deserves a spotless house, got dat Arnie?" Lamar said. "Keep it clean or you in big trouble"
Lamat then strode up and bitch-slapped *** a few times to make sure he “got the message” as he put it. As he bitch slapped ***, Mom stood up, strode over in her sexy heels and looked on, her breasts hard under her thin T-shit, her big nipples prominent, and just stared at *** being slapped.
Then, Mom started licking Lamar's bare torso and rubbing herself against him, as though she was desperate for his attention.
"You're so strong" Mom said.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
"Bitch is on heat, needin da black prong" Lamar said.
“Clean dat floor while I seed Tash” Lamar said to ***.
Lamar then took Mom’s hand and led her upstairs, her gorgeous big ass swaying on the stairs in those jeggings and heels. She was being led to be bred, I thought. Bred by an alpha male. I swear Mom’s bitch heat lingered in the air after she had gone. I could smell that sweet pre-coupling scent as *** assembled the Swiffer.
A few months later, Mom filed for divorce. *** was a wreck by then, but I had adjusted to the situation somewhat. The upside of Lamar being around was that the house was always clean and I got to go to the movies whenever I liked.
Mom used the same lawyer that *** had used to fast-track her into the US. *** had signed a load of papers, and it turned out some were false statements about his income and how long he’d known Mom. Unluckily for ***, it turned out that lying in an immigration application is a felony offence that entails jail time.
*** was presented with a dossier on his crimes that would be passed on to law enforcement if he didn’t agree to the divorce on Mom and Lamar’s terms. After his credit card debts were paid off from his paltry share of the house sale, *** was left with nothing. We were forced to move into a small apartment close to the projects. But at least *** still had his job at the car wash.
After she filed for divorce we didn't see much of Mom. But one day *** told me that she had visited him at work. She had driven by for a hand wash in a new Porsche Roadster, which is a great car. Mom said that Lamar would give me a ride in it, and also get me tickets to Comicon. Believe it or not Lamar was as good as his word. He took me for a ride the following week, and I enjoyed every second of it my first Comicon. He may have been mean to *** but Lamar was pretty good to me.
I’ve actually been a regular at Comicon ever since, but that’s a different story to how harshly Mom and Lamar treated ***.
