Warning: This story contains adult language, graphic violence, sexual
harassment, attempted rape, graphic rape, and sexually explicit themes.
Reader's discretion is advised. Rating - R.
Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of the Newsies characters. Brett, Brynn, Cocoa, Braden, Meade, Madeline, Brent, Maddock, and other miscellaneous characters are all mine. Sweets, Morning Dew, Meow, Sprite, Spark and children of said characters own themselves.
Lyrics in the story are from "Die Another Day" by Madonna.
Sleeping Awake - Ch. 4
Brett stared out the window at the blue sky. The clouds were drifting lazily across the bright background. She was thinking about what it would feel like to be like those clouds and just be able to drift through life without a care in the world.
"What are you thinking?" Jack asked after a while.
She turned to look at him. Her deep, brown eyes met his concerned hazel ones. Both found themselves unable to speak or think; they were each lost in the beauty of the others eyes. Their faces were only inches away from each other's and they both leaned in slightly and their lips touched softly.
Brett's eyes fluttered shut as he deepened the kiss a little. His hands roamed over her body and hers made their way to his hair. Jack's tongue gently roamed over her lips and she parted them slightly to allow him access to her mouth. Their tongues both battled for control and Jack pulled her over to the bed. He gently pushed Brett down onto her back. His fingers trailed down to her blouse, and began to slide it slowly over her head.
"Put your hands on me Jack" He was about to kiss her again when he heard her say those words. Make love to me. Other women had said those very words to him in the past and he was content, but when Brett whispered those words to him, he felt like he was handed the greatest gift in the world. He was given permission to make love to her, to cherish her like he wanted to. He looked into her eyes, and he now not only saw lust and passion, but trust, confidence, and love.
He smiled at her, a pure genuine smile and whispered.
"You're amazing," He said. He kissed her once more, before positioning himself at her opening and looking up at her. She smiled at him as he glided himself into her, filling her entirely. She gasped in the utmost pleasure. He slowly pushed out and in, as if he were trying to freeze this moment within his memories forever. He opened his eyes and looked at her. Her eyes were opened and looking at him, occasionally closing in pleasure, but mostly focused on him. Their bodies were sweating now, soaked from the activities taking place. Jack used his tongue to lick the droplets of sweat that slid down her neck as she began thrusting her hips up as an indication to quicken the pace. Jack began quickening things as he was losing control. He changed the rhythm to almost hurrying fashion as he felt himself almost reaching his peak. It was at the moment that she reached her peak and screamed his name out as her walls clamped around his member did and he screamed her name out in sheer bliss. He fell on top of her, completely unaware of any other existence besides the beauty that now lay panting beneath him. Jack breathed in deeply before he looked down at her sleeping form. He sighed dreamily and whispered in her ear.
"I love you, Brett."
She responded with a tighter embrace. She loved him, too.
~
Brett was quite happy this morning when she got the children dressed, fed, and off to school. She began cleaning her house without fail, dusting the furniture, polishing the banisters, and cleaning the silverware. All the while Brent kept himself busy playing with his favorite toys, including the new spinning top that Jack purchased for him recently.
A knock was heard at the door while Brett was in the middle of her daily chores. She swiftly went to open the door to be met by a mail deliverer with a letter and a package. She promptly thanked him and gave him a tip to which he graciously accepted. She went over to the living room and opened the letter. Seeing that the address was from Boston, she knew immediately that the letter was from Brynn. She hadn't written to Brett in weeks and she was wondering what was going on in her life. In the letter, Brynn revealed that she had just learned that she was pregnant with her first child. Up until now, Brynn and her husband, Fabrizio, had trouble conceiving a child. After years of praying and hoping, they were finally blessed with a future progeny.
Brett was truly happy for her. She remembered in a past correspondence of Brynn stating that she had been wishing for a family. After she finished reading the letter, she proceeded to open the package that she had received. It was odd that there was no return address on it, just her own. Shrugging her shoulders, she opened it.
In the plain wrapping contained a fancy pillow. Attached to the pillow was a note. The note read:
Here is a pillow for all of the time you'll need spending on your back.
Shocked, she jumped up and discarded the pillow and note into a wastebasket, but not before ripping the note to shreds. Trying to keep herself composed, Brett's mind began reeling. Someone obviously found out where she lived. And to make matters worse, they sent her a horrific "present."
"Who could've done this? Why are they doing this?" she thought to herself.
As far as she knew, she did not have any enemies and neither did Jack. "What the hell is going on?" she said to herself. Quickly, she ran to the door to catch up with the postman who delivered the package. Unfortunately, he was no where to be found. She then heard Brent's voice in the background.
"Mommy! I broke my toy."
"Okay, sweetie, I'm coming." She said as she walked back inside.
~
I'm gonna wake up, yes and no
I'm gonna kiss some part of
I'm gonna keep this secret
I'm gonna close my body now
For the next few days, Brett acted as if nothing happened. She continued her life of a solid marriage and motherhood. Jack brought her and the kids over to Brooklyn to spend time with Spot and his family.
"Boy, raisin' kids is tough! Especially when dey are like Trevor, Diego, and Lance. Those boys are da wildest trio I've evah met in my entire life!"
"What happened?" asked Jack.
"He said that his Math teacher told him ta go ta da chalkboard and do a math problem. When da teacher told him dat he got da problem wrong, he tried to tell him how ta correct it. Well, let's just say dat da teacher's breath was less than fresh."
Both guys chuckled. "What happened then?"
"Trevor told da teacher ta fail him and get da fuck outta his face."
Everybody balled over with laughter as Spot continued. "And dat's not da rest of it. She told him that she was gonna send a letter home ta give ta Dewey. Trevor said for her ta just lick da envelope, she'll get it."
All of the guys burst with laughter. Spot always had a funny story concerning his kids, especially the adopted ones.
When Spot and Dewey got married, they immediately started a family. After the birth of their first child, Gabriel, they adopted three others; all boys. Trevor, Diego, and Lance were all boys that came from broken homes. Trevor's mother was a sickly woman who did her best to raise him. His father was an alcoholic. He would constantly come home and rag on Trevor. This is from where Trevor obtained his smart-aleck ways. Diego's mother was a prostitute who spent more of her time working the streets instead of caring for her young son. Lance, the youngest of the adopted bunch, was an orphan who ran away constantly from the orphanage to run and play with the Brooklyn newsies.
When Dewey came in contact with these three boys, she knew automatically that she could put these kids on the straight and narrow. She knew that these boys needed a stable home environment to become law-abiding, respectable American citizens.
Spot and Dewey went on to have two more kids, Neeko, a boy, and Mackenzie, a girl. This completed their family.
Spot and Jack always enjoyed having their families interact with one another. Gabriel, Trevor, Diego, Lance, and Neeko all got along very well with Meade and Braden. Mackenzie and Madeline always spent their time playing "House" with their dolls and such while Dewey and Brett discussed motherhood, their husbands, and other matters of the heart. Little did they know that Spot and Jack were discussing them as well. Spot kept giving clandestine glances at the women as he and Jack conversed.
"Say, Jack, when was da last time ya told your wife dat ya loved her?"
"This morning. Why?"
"I guess we are a couple of da biggest hopeless romantics in Manhattan and Brooklyn."
"I guess you can say dat, Spot. I don't know what I would've done if Brett hadn't come into my life." Spot nodded.
"I feel da same way about Dewey. She's probably da best thing dat evah happened ta me. She gave me three beautiful children and acquired three more from working at da mission. I tell ya, Jack, we must've done something good in our lives ta get a couple of lovelies like those two."
"Can't argue with you there, Spot."
Spot then held up his bottle of beer, with Jack following suit. "Here to two of the most beautiful angels in da world." Spot said. They clinked their bottles as their wives looked back at them. Both men winked at their loves, causing Dewey and Brett to giggle like schoolgirls.
~
With letters in one hand and a toy in the other, Brett was on her way to the post office to mail letters to her dearest friends. She wanted to touch- base with Brynn again as well as Cocoa who was currently living in London. She also wanted to send them pictures of her family so that they could see how big her children had grown. She left Brent in Sprite's care for the time being.
Upon exiting the post office, she made a right turn and was quickly yanked. She was swiftly pulled into an alley and pinned up against a wall. She was not entirely shocked by the man who snatched her off the street. She was met by the face of no other than her arch nemesis.
"Braden!" she yelled. "What the hell are you doing!?"
Braden clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "Now that's not proper behavior for a lady. Wouldn't want your daughter talking like that, now would you?"
Brett simply glared at him. She thought that she had seen the last of him when she was waiting for her children. Her eyes became cool.
"What do you want?"
"Did you like that gift I sent to you?" Her eyes glazed with hatred at his question. It was not enough that he approached her in the streets. He had to stalk her at home.
"We have an old score to settle. I think that we should talk someplace more private." He said, running his hands around to the back of her neck and leading her to another destination.
"I can't! I'm busy right now."
"You can't be too busy for the man you lost your virginity to, now can you?"
"I'm always too busy for rapists!"
Blood boiling at her statement, Braden grabbed her by the throat quickly. She gasped for air as the tightening of his hand came full force. He put his face close to hers; his lips being mere millimeters away from hers.
"All I have to do is squeeze."
"All I have to do is scream."
Seeing her point of reason, he slowly loosened his grip and released her. She brought her hand up to her neck with watering eyes. Braden only looked at her, seeing that the woman who was to be his wife was just as stunning as when he knew her last. Eyeing the fancy suit that she was donning, he couldn't help but notice that she was quite the lady. He could even see himself being married to her.
"You still look good."
"How nice of you to notice." Acid dripping from her statement.
He gave a casual smirk. "Still the little spitfire, are you?" Brett just looked at him as his expression became serious. "Listen, I have some important issues to discuss with you. But I can't do it here. I want you to meet me at 412 Bradley Street at 8:00 p.m. tomorrow night. We have some catching up to do."
"I'm not meeting you anywhere tomorrow night. I am a respectable married woman with a family and I am not about to spend my time in the company of drunkards, pimps, and prostitutes."
"You shouldn't have a problem with the last group, being that you practically came from one."
A hard slap came up upon Braden's face. A red mark was left on his tanned skin as he reached up and touched his face with the back of his hand.
"I see you haven't lost any of your spunk. It only adds to your beauty. Does your daughter have your fire?"
"You leave my children out of this you sick son-of-a-bitch!"
"Or else what?"
"Don't tempt me."
Brett should've used her better judgment. She should've known that he was only trying to get a rise out of her and taunt her. But she knew that she needed to play it cool. Braden already knew where her kids attended school and she did not want any harm to come to them.
"8:00 p.m., 412 Bradley Street. I'll be there."
Braden simply stepped away from her, but not before taking his thumb and rubbing her bottom lip. In a moment of haste, she sprinted out of the alley before he could do anything else to her. She needed to get back to Brent and back home as soon as possible.
"This is going to be quite interesting." Braden said to himself.
~
I'm gonna avoid the cliché
I'm gonna suspend my senses
I'm gonna delay my pleasure
I'm gonna close my body now
Walking down this path of depravity and debauchery, Brett knew that she had no business being there. She lied to Jack in order to get out of the house. She told him that she was going over to Brooklyn to meet with Sweets. Sweets was giving her tips on wearing a new corset that she had just purchased. Jack had no problem with her going places alone.
In her passing, she witnessed many horrifying scenes. Walking down the street, she inadvertently overheard the conversation of a street walker and her pimp in a scuffle. He held her face by the chin and kept slapping her as he interrogated her.
"Where's my money, bitch!? Where's my cut?"
The woman whimpered as he slapped her again. He made sure not to slap her too hard. He did not want to damage his merchandise for future customers.
"I don't have it right now! I've only been working for two hours now. I haven't been able to get enough tricks to bed me."
"Well, you'd better hurry up and get someone to pay you for a night. Or else you'll have to lie down in the middle of the street and open your legs wide and beg someone to fill your pussy! You got that, slut!?"
He then punched her in the stomach before leaving her, making her limp behind him as he went on into a bar. A few steps up, she listened in on another exchange between four prostitutes arguing with one extremely drunk young woman, who was complaining endlessly about not having enough money to stay in a lodging house.
"I've spent my doss money! I've had it four times already and it's gone."
"Then maybe you should stop spending all of your time in the taverns and just fuck someone, get it over with, and go to bed!" One of the women scolded.
"You don't own me! You're not me muddah!" She shouted as she lunged towards her friend. The other two women had to hold her back, knowing that any or all of them could go to jail for disturbing the peace, among other things.
"I'll be back before long." The intoxicated whore calmed down briefly before going on her way, stumbling down the street to meet her next paying "john".
It was not proper for someone like Brett to be wandering in this section of Manhattan. Respectable women never spoke, let alone appeared, in the heart of a place where prostitution, gambling, corruption, greed, lies, deceit, drugs, and despair brewed itself into a sadistic Gumbo.
Oh, sure. She has certainly heard of women of middle-class and high society who would make routine visits to this kingdom of nighttime pleasures to trap a lover or husband who they suspected of infidelity. But she had also heard of the other types of respectable women; the types that had secrets. The kind of women that had made certain choices. She heard stories of some women who were so torn about their husband's secret lives that they sought revenge in the forms of selling themselves for money on the down low. There were tales of women who lost interest in the physical attentions of their husbands and clandestinely sought comfort in the arms of another woman for affection and pleasure.
There was Mrs. Harrington, the older woman who would host tea parties at her palatial estate on the weekends and smoke opium at night in the Chinese pagoda on the sly. There was also Millicent Johnson, a young girl who was smart as well as beautiful who delved into the world of dissipation as a result of associating with the wrong crowd. And probably the most heart- wrenching sight to see was the little girl she passed in one of the brothels. She stood in the doorway, with rouge on her cheeks and lips painted red. She couldn't have been older than ten. Hers was a sad and tattered existence. As Brett passed the building of ill repute, she could see men and women engaged in various escapades, in addition to the moans heard from a woman being fucked only ten feet away from where the little girl stood.
She looked up at Brett with vulnerable eyes. Brett thought of her daughter. Her long, dark hair and rosy cheeks reminded her so much of her own child's existence. A tear began to form in her eyes, as she was thankful to God that her daughter was not in the same situation as this young one whose eyes alone told a story of despondency.
She sped up her pace and soon came upon her destination. She knew that she shouldn't have come, but she had to. She needed closure and wanted to protect her family. Inhaling, she stepped into the place as if it was nothing.
Walking into this musty establishment, she discerned that Braden wanted to meet her where no one would recognize him. And she was grateful for having a small pocket knife in her purse for protection. A drunk, homeless man flicked his tongue at her as she passed by. She merely ignored him, as she expected such behavior to come from men.
Moving closer into the depths of this seedy existence, she became more cautious. The stench of the hallway was more than she could handle. Lying on the floor, a man was continuously fondling himself. She tried to walk quietly as to not make her presence known to this man who was masturbating to no end. Unfortunately, he caught sight of her and became more stimulated by her presence.
"I can smell your cunt." He hissed to her. Her heart skipped a beat as she clutched her purse, preparing to use her concealed weapon. He continued to masturbate until he came hard all over himself.
Brett knew that this was entirely a bad idea to go there. But the protection of her family was much too important to ignore. She had to do this. She continued to approach the room where Braden was to be located. As she got closer, the noise became much more rowdy.
She could hear faint sounds from the room ahead of her. For the most part it sounded like they were laughter and catcalls, but a highly sensitive female screech warned her that someone in that room was having not a good time. She slowly crept up to the threshold of the room to take a look inside, even though she really did not need to see to believe it.
In the room stood about twenty men; some drunk, others sober. They were cheering and clapping as a very tall, well-built man kept moving his body back and forth. He, along with two other males, held a helpless woman down on a table, thrusting into her with all of his might. She heard various comments made by the men. Nearly all of them were cheering and clapping at the lewd activity that was occurring.
"Fill that bitch!" was one thing that was yelled from man who was relishing in his delight of seeing this woman being taken by force.
"Rip her hole!" came from another man who drank and caressed his own hardness at the sight of such.
"Poke dat pussy!" was screamed from different men as the rape ensued.
One man walked over to where the young woman's head was located. He grabbed her face, forcing her to look his way and said, "Taste this!" Everyone laughed as her screams were muffled by the presence of his genitalia in her mouth. He thrust his manhood into her face like it was nothing. She gagged as she was being taken by force in such a cruel manner.
"If you bite me, bitch, I'll rip your fucking heart out!" The man said as he thrust his manhood into her oral cavern. This continued for several minutes until the man released onto the woman's face. Brett could see from where she stood that the rapist came really hard as was evident by the streams of semen that came shooting up all over the place. From a distance, she witnessed this horrible ordeal. Brett felt as helpless as the unwilling victim sprawled out on the table in the next room. Her stomach was tied in knots as the men kept shouting approval at the goings-on. No matter how much either of them would yell and scream for help, help would not come. This place was a hell on earth. And all the woman could do was wait until it was all over.
Brett's heart was racing a million miles a minute. She slowly walked back until her back was met by the presence of a hard chest. "Looking for me?"
Brett quickly spun around to be met by Braden who was sporting a smug expression.
"You know, you shouldn't watch things like that. They could give you nightmares."
Placing a strong hand on her shoulder, he guided her into another room where two other men were waiting. One was tan and very good-looking. He had dark hair and eyes and a smile that could trap even the most hardened woman's heart. The other was average in appearance and possessed a brawny build, similar to Jack's. Brett then quickly turned to Braden.
"What do you want of me?"
"Three blow jobs and a side order of mulatress pussy!" One of the men boasted.
Brett looked at him with utter shock. Braden merely smiled at her surprise. The two cohorts continued chuckling at her horrified expression as she tried so desperately not to lash out at them for their comment. Braden turned and gave them a stern expression. They cut short their laughter and continued drinking their alcohol and playing cards.
Braden's eyes then turned to Brett. "Don't worry, they don't bite. At least, not without my permission."
Brett just looked at him with disapproving eyes. Braden guided her over to a chair on the opposite side of the room. The bleak, bare accommodations were typical of a low-class establishment. Cracked walls and broken furniture were vibrating as she could hear the sounds of people bumping the beds up against the wall from having sex in other rooms on the floor. She already thought that it was a bad idea to come here.
She could feel his eyes raking her form much in the same manner as his two cronies had been when she first walked in.
"I want to fuck you like an animal. I want to feel you from the inside." He revealed in a low, husky voice.
His gaze bore directly into her terrified soul. Walking towards her, she felt nothing as she walked backwards, only to be stopped by the cold wall touching her back. With one hand on the wall above her head, Braden leaned in closer to her, wishing to hear her breathe.
"Don't worry, my love. I already told you that they won't harm you. I wouldn't allow it. Besides, I can't have those vultures taste what's rightfully mine."
"I am not yours!" Spat Brett.
"You will be before this is through."
"Come again?"
Braden gave her his suave, debonair smile as he eased forward towards her. "You see, darling. I am making a standard proposition to you. I want you to be my lay. I want you to be at my beck and call and give me lots of tender loving care, among other things."
"You're fucking mad!"
"We all go a little mad sometimes. Don't you?"
Brett's eyes widened with fear at his proposal. To be his sex slave was far too much to handle. She was a respectable, married woman. She had a life with Jack and was very happy. Who the hell was he to treat her otherwise?
Braden stepped towards her, reaching out for her wrists, he grabbed her harshly and pushed her up against the wall behind her, holding her arms high above her head.
"Get your fucking hands off of me! You've made me feel dirty and I hate you for all of this!" Braden looked at her with a mixture of confusion and anger. Braden's two buddies stood up and walked up to the feuding duo. Braden maintained his control of her body as he pressed harder onto her, making her feel his hard, throbbing arousal on her mid-section. His dark eyes bore directly into hers as he paralyzed her, with his comrades looking on.
"What the fuck's gotten into you? I'm just asking you to for some bedtime companionship and you are all worked up about all this for nothing."
"Nothing, huh? That's all this is to you, nothing. Whatever happened to caring, sharing, and commitment? I know you probably never felt the same way but some of people think things like that are important. And you've made it painfully obvious that you were not one of those people." She snapped. He knew exactly what she was talking about. She never really came to terms with her rape from before.
Braden released her slowly, causing him to step backwards into the wall behind her. The shouts from the men in the other room seemed louder as he sauntered towards her, filling her up with terror.
"And if I refuse?
"Then your loving husband finds out about his beautiful mixed-breed wife was wandering through the red-light district of Manhattan, looking for a good time." He said as he ran his hands up and down her sides. She shuddered as he did this, and he liked the power he had over her as he molested her. 'Oh, God! Why did I come here!?' She scolded to herself. A tear slid down her soft cheek and rested itself onto her lip. Braden took his thumb and wiped the tear from her bottom lip, then tasting it, relishing in the salty flavor of it.
"And you can't say that I have no proof. I have two witnesses to prove that you were walking your pretty colored ass in this section of town. And God knows how many crooked cops there are on my payroll to take my side." Braden looked over his shoulder at his cohorts who were busy licking their lips at the scene that was occurring before them. Braden then looked deep into Brett's eyes. "Does your husband know that your mother sold herself for money? Wouldn't it be a shame if he thought that his own wife carried those same traits?"
Brett's heart sank. Braden had more than a few foils up his sleeve to ruin Brett. "I'd say anything to get what I want."
"Except your prayers." Brett whispered.
Braden gave her a stern look. He slowly back away and released her, her wrists throbbing from the pressure he had placed on them. He stood there looking at her, wondering what she was going to say to him next.
Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, he placed it between his soft lips and lit it up. "You have until the end of the month to give me a straight answer. For your sake, I hope you choose right." Brett said nothing, feeling totally numb.
He sensuously placed his thumb in his mouth and removed it. He streaked it across her lips, leaving a trail of saliva. With quickness, Brett walked out of the room in a hurry. She walked back into the corridor. In an instant, she tripped over a sleeping bum, landing face down on the dirty floor. Luckily, she found that he was passed out and couldn't attack her. As she rose from her horizontal position, she heard muffled sounds from a young man sitting in front of her. He was playing with himself and appeared as if he was about to reach a climax. Without warning, she was met with a stream of ejaculation flying from his hand straight to her face. She screamed so loud that her shrieks could have shattered glass. Wiping her face hurriedly, she looked on with horror as the young man, who appeared to be a teenager, kept expostulating until there was nothing left to expel.
He then looked over at her with halfway shut eyes. "Dat's a little gift from me to ya. I'll give ya a dollar if you suck da rest from my balls."
Breathing hard, she ran as fast as she could from this hell on earth to the comforts of her own domicile.
Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of the Newsies characters. Brett, Brynn, Cocoa, Braden, Meade, Madeline, Brent, Maddock, and other miscellaneous characters are all mine. Sweets, Morning Dew, Meow, Sprite, Spark and children of said characters own themselves.
Lyrics in the story are from "Die Another Day" by Madonna.
Sleeping Awake - Ch. 4
Brett stared out the window at the blue sky. The clouds were drifting lazily across the bright background. She was thinking about what it would feel like to be like those clouds and just be able to drift through life without a care in the world.
"What are you thinking?" Jack asked after a while.
She turned to look at him. Her deep, brown eyes met his concerned hazel ones. Both found themselves unable to speak or think; they were each lost in the beauty of the others eyes. Their faces were only inches away from each other's and they both leaned in slightly and their lips touched softly.
Brett's eyes fluttered shut as he deepened the kiss a little. His hands roamed over her body and hers made their way to his hair. Jack's tongue gently roamed over her lips and she parted them slightly to allow him access to her mouth. Their tongues both battled for control and Jack pulled her over to the bed. He gently pushed Brett down onto her back. His fingers trailed down to her blouse, and began to slide it slowly over her head.
"Put your hands on me Jack" He was about to kiss her again when he heard her say those words. Make love to me. Other women had said those very words to him in the past and he was content, but when Brett whispered those words to him, he felt like he was handed the greatest gift in the world. He was given permission to make love to her, to cherish her like he wanted to. He looked into her eyes, and he now not only saw lust and passion, but trust, confidence, and love.
He smiled at her, a pure genuine smile and whispered.
"You're amazing," He said. He kissed her once more, before positioning himself at her opening and looking up at her. She smiled at him as he glided himself into her, filling her entirely. She gasped in the utmost pleasure. He slowly pushed out and in, as if he were trying to freeze this moment within his memories forever. He opened his eyes and looked at her. Her eyes were opened and looking at him, occasionally closing in pleasure, but mostly focused on him. Their bodies were sweating now, soaked from the activities taking place. Jack used his tongue to lick the droplets of sweat that slid down her neck as she began thrusting her hips up as an indication to quicken the pace. Jack began quickening things as he was losing control. He changed the rhythm to almost hurrying fashion as he felt himself almost reaching his peak. It was at the moment that she reached her peak and screamed his name out as her walls clamped around his member did and he screamed her name out in sheer bliss. He fell on top of her, completely unaware of any other existence besides the beauty that now lay panting beneath him. Jack breathed in deeply before he looked down at her sleeping form. He sighed dreamily and whispered in her ear.
"I love you, Brett."
She responded with a tighter embrace. She loved him, too.
~
Brett was quite happy this morning when she got the children dressed, fed, and off to school. She began cleaning her house without fail, dusting the furniture, polishing the banisters, and cleaning the silverware. All the while Brent kept himself busy playing with his favorite toys, including the new spinning top that Jack purchased for him recently.
A knock was heard at the door while Brett was in the middle of her daily chores. She swiftly went to open the door to be met by a mail deliverer with a letter and a package. She promptly thanked him and gave him a tip to which he graciously accepted. She went over to the living room and opened the letter. Seeing that the address was from Boston, she knew immediately that the letter was from Brynn. She hadn't written to Brett in weeks and she was wondering what was going on in her life. In the letter, Brynn revealed that she had just learned that she was pregnant with her first child. Up until now, Brynn and her husband, Fabrizio, had trouble conceiving a child. After years of praying and hoping, they were finally blessed with a future progeny.
Brett was truly happy for her. She remembered in a past correspondence of Brynn stating that she had been wishing for a family. After she finished reading the letter, she proceeded to open the package that she had received. It was odd that there was no return address on it, just her own. Shrugging her shoulders, she opened it.
In the plain wrapping contained a fancy pillow. Attached to the pillow was a note. The note read:
Here is a pillow for all of the time you'll need spending on your back.
Shocked, she jumped up and discarded the pillow and note into a wastebasket, but not before ripping the note to shreds. Trying to keep herself composed, Brett's mind began reeling. Someone obviously found out where she lived. And to make matters worse, they sent her a horrific "present."
"Who could've done this? Why are they doing this?" she thought to herself.
As far as she knew, she did not have any enemies and neither did Jack. "What the hell is going on?" she said to herself. Quickly, she ran to the door to catch up with the postman who delivered the package. Unfortunately, he was no where to be found. She then heard Brent's voice in the background.
"Mommy! I broke my toy."
"Okay, sweetie, I'm coming." She said as she walked back inside.
~
I'm gonna wake up, yes and no
I'm gonna kiss some part of
I'm gonna keep this secret
I'm gonna close my body now
For the next few days, Brett acted as if nothing happened. She continued her life of a solid marriage and motherhood. Jack brought her and the kids over to Brooklyn to spend time with Spot and his family.
"Boy, raisin' kids is tough! Especially when dey are like Trevor, Diego, and Lance. Those boys are da wildest trio I've evah met in my entire life!"
"What happened?" asked Jack.
"He said that his Math teacher told him ta go ta da chalkboard and do a math problem. When da teacher told him dat he got da problem wrong, he tried to tell him how ta correct it. Well, let's just say dat da teacher's breath was less than fresh."
Both guys chuckled. "What happened then?"
"Trevor told da teacher ta fail him and get da fuck outta his face."
Everybody balled over with laughter as Spot continued. "And dat's not da rest of it. She told him that she was gonna send a letter home ta give ta Dewey. Trevor said for her ta just lick da envelope, she'll get it."
All of the guys burst with laughter. Spot always had a funny story concerning his kids, especially the adopted ones.
When Spot and Dewey got married, they immediately started a family. After the birth of their first child, Gabriel, they adopted three others; all boys. Trevor, Diego, and Lance were all boys that came from broken homes. Trevor's mother was a sickly woman who did her best to raise him. His father was an alcoholic. He would constantly come home and rag on Trevor. This is from where Trevor obtained his smart-aleck ways. Diego's mother was a prostitute who spent more of her time working the streets instead of caring for her young son. Lance, the youngest of the adopted bunch, was an orphan who ran away constantly from the orphanage to run and play with the Brooklyn newsies.
When Dewey came in contact with these three boys, she knew automatically that she could put these kids on the straight and narrow. She knew that these boys needed a stable home environment to become law-abiding, respectable American citizens.
Spot and Dewey went on to have two more kids, Neeko, a boy, and Mackenzie, a girl. This completed their family.
Spot and Jack always enjoyed having their families interact with one another. Gabriel, Trevor, Diego, Lance, and Neeko all got along very well with Meade and Braden. Mackenzie and Madeline always spent their time playing "House" with their dolls and such while Dewey and Brett discussed motherhood, their husbands, and other matters of the heart. Little did they know that Spot and Jack were discussing them as well. Spot kept giving clandestine glances at the women as he and Jack conversed.
"Say, Jack, when was da last time ya told your wife dat ya loved her?"
"This morning. Why?"
"I guess we are a couple of da biggest hopeless romantics in Manhattan and Brooklyn."
"I guess you can say dat, Spot. I don't know what I would've done if Brett hadn't come into my life." Spot nodded.
"I feel da same way about Dewey. She's probably da best thing dat evah happened ta me. She gave me three beautiful children and acquired three more from working at da mission. I tell ya, Jack, we must've done something good in our lives ta get a couple of lovelies like those two."
"Can't argue with you there, Spot."
Spot then held up his bottle of beer, with Jack following suit. "Here to two of the most beautiful angels in da world." Spot said. They clinked their bottles as their wives looked back at them. Both men winked at their loves, causing Dewey and Brett to giggle like schoolgirls.
~
With letters in one hand and a toy in the other, Brett was on her way to the post office to mail letters to her dearest friends. She wanted to touch- base with Brynn again as well as Cocoa who was currently living in London. She also wanted to send them pictures of her family so that they could see how big her children had grown. She left Brent in Sprite's care for the time being.
Upon exiting the post office, she made a right turn and was quickly yanked. She was swiftly pulled into an alley and pinned up against a wall. She was not entirely shocked by the man who snatched her off the street. She was met by the face of no other than her arch nemesis.
"Braden!" she yelled. "What the hell are you doing!?"
Braden clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "Now that's not proper behavior for a lady. Wouldn't want your daughter talking like that, now would you?"
Brett simply glared at him. She thought that she had seen the last of him when she was waiting for her children. Her eyes became cool.
"What do you want?"
"Did you like that gift I sent to you?" Her eyes glazed with hatred at his question. It was not enough that he approached her in the streets. He had to stalk her at home.
"We have an old score to settle. I think that we should talk someplace more private." He said, running his hands around to the back of her neck and leading her to another destination.
"I can't! I'm busy right now."
"You can't be too busy for the man you lost your virginity to, now can you?"
"I'm always too busy for rapists!"
Blood boiling at her statement, Braden grabbed her by the throat quickly. She gasped for air as the tightening of his hand came full force. He put his face close to hers; his lips being mere millimeters away from hers.
"All I have to do is squeeze."
"All I have to do is scream."
Seeing her point of reason, he slowly loosened his grip and released her. She brought her hand up to her neck with watering eyes. Braden only looked at her, seeing that the woman who was to be his wife was just as stunning as when he knew her last. Eyeing the fancy suit that she was donning, he couldn't help but notice that she was quite the lady. He could even see himself being married to her.
"You still look good."
"How nice of you to notice." Acid dripping from her statement.
He gave a casual smirk. "Still the little spitfire, are you?" Brett just looked at him as his expression became serious. "Listen, I have some important issues to discuss with you. But I can't do it here. I want you to meet me at 412 Bradley Street at 8:00 p.m. tomorrow night. We have some catching up to do."
"I'm not meeting you anywhere tomorrow night. I am a respectable married woman with a family and I am not about to spend my time in the company of drunkards, pimps, and prostitutes."
"You shouldn't have a problem with the last group, being that you practically came from one."
A hard slap came up upon Braden's face. A red mark was left on his tanned skin as he reached up and touched his face with the back of his hand.
"I see you haven't lost any of your spunk. It only adds to your beauty. Does your daughter have your fire?"
"You leave my children out of this you sick son-of-a-bitch!"
"Or else what?"
"Don't tempt me."
Brett should've used her better judgment. She should've known that he was only trying to get a rise out of her and taunt her. But she knew that she needed to play it cool. Braden already knew where her kids attended school and she did not want any harm to come to them.
"8:00 p.m., 412 Bradley Street. I'll be there."
Braden simply stepped away from her, but not before taking his thumb and rubbing her bottom lip. In a moment of haste, she sprinted out of the alley before he could do anything else to her. She needed to get back to Brent and back home as soon as possible.
"This is going to be quite interesting." Braden said to himself.
~
I'm gonna avoid the cliché
I'm gonna suspend my senses
I'm gonna delay my pleasure
I'm gonna close my body now
Walking down this path of depravity and debauchery, Brett knew that she had no business being there. She lied to Jack in order to get out of the house. She told him that she was going over to Brooklyn to meet with Sweets. Sweets was giving her tips on wearing a new corset that she had just purchased. Jack had no problem with her going places alone.
In her passing, she witnessed many horrifying scenes. Walking down the street, she inadvertently overheard the conversation of a street walker and her pimp in a scuffle. He held her face by the chin and kept slapping her as he interrogated her.
"Where's my money, bitch!? Where's my cut?"
The woman whimpered as he slapped her again. He made sure not to slap her too hard. He did not want to damage his merchandise for future customers.
"I don't have it right now! I've only been working for two hours now. I haven't been able to get enough tricks to bed me."
"Well, you'd better hurry up and get someone to pay you for a night. Or else you'll have to lie down in the middle of the street and open your legs wide and beg someone to fill your pussy! You got that, slut!?"
He then punched her in the stomach before leaving her, making her limp behind him as he went on into a bar. A few steps up, she listened in on another exchange between four prostitutes arguing with one extremely drunk young woman, who was complaining endlessly about not having enough money to stay in a lodging house.
"I've spent my doss money! I've had it four times already and it's gone."
"Then maybe you should stop spending all of your time in the taverns and just fuck someone, get it over with, and go to bed!" One of the women scolded.
"You don't own me! You're not me muddah!" She shouted as she lunged towards her friend. The other two women had to hold her back, knowing that any or all of them could go to jail for disturbing the peace, among other things.
"I'll be back before long." The intoxicated whore calmed down briefly before going on her way, stumbling down the street to meet her next paying "john".
It was not proper for someone like Brett to be wandering in this section of Manhattan. Respectable women never spoke, let alone appeared, in the heart of a place where prostitution, gambling, corruption, greed, lies, deceit, drugs, and despair brewed itself into a sadistic Gumbo.
Oh, sure. She has certainly heard of women of middle-class and high society who would make routine visits to this kingdom of nighttime pleasures to trap a lover or husband who they suspected of infidelity. But she had also heard of the other types of respectable women; the types that had secrets. The kind of women that had made certain choices. She heard stories of some women who were so torn about their husband's secret lives that they sought revenge in the forms of selling themselves for money on the down low. There were tales of women who lost interest in the physical attentions of their husbands and clandestinely sought comfort in the arms of another woman for affection and pleasure.
There was Mrs. Harrington, the older woman who would host tea parties at her palatial estate on the weekends and smoke opium at night in the Chinese pagoda on the sly. There was also Millicent Johnson, a young girl who was smart as well as beautiful who delved into the world of dissipation as a result of associating with the wrong crowd. And probably the most heart- wrenching sight to see was the little girl she passed in one of the brothels. She stood in the doorway, with rouge on her cheeks and lips painted red. She couldn't have been older than ten. Hers was a sad and tattered existence. As Brett passed the building of ill repute, she could see men and women engaged in various escapades, in addition to the moans heard from a woman being fucked only ten feet away from where the little girl stood.
She looked up at Brett with vulnerable eyes. Brett thought of her daughter. Her long, dark hair and rosy cheeks reminded her so much of her own child's existence. A tear began to form in her eyes, as she was thankful to God that her daughter was not in the same situation as this young one whose eyes alone told a story of despondency.
She sped up her pace and soon came upon her destination. She knew that she shouldn't have come, but she had to. She needed closure and wanted to protect her family. Inhaling, she stepped into the place as if it was nothing.
Walking into this musty establishment, she discerned that Braden wanted to meet her where no one would recognize him. And she was grateful for having a small pocket knife in her purse for protection. A drunk, homeless man flicked his tongue at her as she passed by. She merely ignored him, as she expected such behavior to come from men.
Moving closer into the depths of this seedy existence, she became more cautious. The stench of the hallway was more than she could handle. Lying on the floor, a man was continuously fondling himself. She tried to walk quietly as to not make her presence known to this man who was masturbating to no end. Unfortunately, he caught sight of her and became more stimulated by her presence.
"I can smell your cunt." He hissed to her. Her heart skipped a beat as she clutched her purse, preparing to use her concealed weapon. He continued to masturbate until he came hard all over himself.
Brett knew that this was entirely a bad idea to go there. But the protection of her family was much too important to ignore. She had to do this. She continued to approach the room where Braden was to be located. As she got closer, the noise became much more rowdy.
She could hear faint sounds from the room ahead of her. For the most part it sounded like they were laughter and catcalls, but a highly sensitive female screech warned her that someone in that room was having not a good time. She slowly crept up to the threshold of the room to take a look inside, even though she really did not need to see to believe it.
In the room stood about twenty men; some drunk, others sober. They were cheering and clapping as a very tall, well-built man kept moving his body back and forth. He, along with two other males, held a helpless woman down on a table, thrusting into her with all of his might. She heard various comments made by the men. Nearly all of them were cheering and clapping at the lewd activity that was occurring.
"Fill that bitch!" was one thing that was yelled from man who was relishing in his delight of seeing this woman being taken by force.
"Rip her hole!" came from another man who drank and caressed his own hardness at the sight of such.
"Poke dat pussy!" was screamed from different men as the rape ensued.
One man walked over to where the young woman's head was located. He grabbed her face, forcing her to look his way and said, "Taste this!" Everyone laughed as her screams were muffled by the presence of his genitalia in her mouth. He thrust his manhood into her face like it was nothing. She gagged as she was being taken by force in such a cruel manner.
"If you bite me, bitch, I'll rip your fucking heart out!" The man said as he thrust his manhood into her oral cavern. This continued for several minutes until the man released onto the woman's face. Brett could see from where she stood that the rapist came really hard as was evident by the streams of semen that came shooting up all over the place. From a distance, she witnessed this horrible ordeal. Brett felt as helpless as the unwilling victim sprawled out on the table in the next room. Her stomach was tied in knots as the men kept shouting approval at the goings-on. No matter how much either of them would yell and scream for help, help would not come. This place was a hell on earth. And all the woman could do was wait until it was all over.
Brett's heart was racing a million miles a minute. She slowly walked back until her back was met by the presence of a hard chest. "Looking for me?"
Brett quickly spun around to be met by Braden who was sporting a smug expression.
"You know, you shouldn't watch things like that. They could give you nightmares."
Placing a strong hand on her shoulder, he guided her into another room where two other men were waiting. One was tan and very good-looking. He had dark hair and eyes and a smile that could trap even the most hardened woman's heart. The other was average in appearance and possessed a brawny build, similar to Jack's. Brett then quickly turned to Braden.
"What do you want of me?"
"Three blow jobs and a side order of mulatress pussy!" One of the men boasted.
Brett looked at him with utter shock. Braden merely smiled at her surprise. The two cohorts continued chuckling at her horrified expression as she tried so desperately not to lash out at them for their comment. Braden turned and gave them a stern expression. They cut short their laughter and continued drinking their alcohol and playing cards.
Braden's eyes then turned to Brett. "Don't worry, they don't bite. At least, not without my permission."
Brett just looked at him with disapproving eyes. Braden guided her over to a chair on the opposite side of the room. The bleak, bare accommodations were typical of a low-class establishment. Cracked walls and broken furniture were vibrating as she could hear the sounds of people bumping the beds up against the wall from having sex in other rooms on the floor. She already thought that it was a bad idea to come here.
She could feel his eyes raking her form much in the same manner as his two cronies had been when she first walked in.
"I want to fuck you like an animal. I want to feel you from the inside." He revealed in a low, husky voice.
His gaze bore directly into her terrified soul. Walking towards her, she felt nothing as she walked backwards, only to be stopped by the cold wall touching her back. With one hand on the wall above her head, Braden leaned in closer to her, wishing to hear her breathe.
"Don't worry, my love. I already told you that they won't harm you. I wouldn't allow it. Besides, I can't have those vultures taste what's rightfully mine."
"I am not yours!" Spat Brett.
"You will be before this is through."
"Come again?"
Braden gave her his suave, debonair smile as he eased forward towards her. "You see, darling. I am making a standard proposition to you. I want you to be my lay. I want you to be at my beck and call and give me lots of tender loving care, among other things."
"You're fucking mad!"
"We all go a little mad sometimes. Don't you?"
Brett's eyes widened with fear at his proposal. To be his sex slave was far too much to handle. She was a respectable, married woman. She had a life with Jack and was very happy. Who the hell was he to treat her otherwise?
Braden stepped towards her, reaching out for her wrists, he grabbed her harshly and pushed her up against the wall behind her, holding her arms high above her head.
"Get your fucking hands off of me! You've made me feel dirty and I hate you for all of this!" Braden looked at her with a mixture of confusion and anger. Braden's two buddies stood up and walked up to the feuding duo. Braden maintained his control of her body as he pressed harder onto her, making her feel his hard, throbbing arousal on her mid-section. His dark eyes bore directly into hers as he paralyzed her, with his comrades looking on.
"What the fuck's gotten into you? I'm just asking you to for some bedtime companionship and you are all worked up about all this for nothing."
"Nothing, huh? That's all this is to you, nothing. Whatever happened to caring, sharing, and commitment? I know you probably never felt the same way but some of people think things like that are important. And you've made it painfully obvious that you were not one of those people." She snapped. He knew exactly what she was talking about. She never really came to terms with her rape from before.
Braden released her slowly, causing him to step backwards into the wall behind her. The shouts from the men in the other room seemed louder as he sauntered towards her, filling her up with terror.
"And if I refuse?
"Then your loving husband finds out about his beautiful mixed-breed wife was wandering through the red-light district of Manhattan, looking for a good time." He said as he ran his hands up and down her sides. She shuddered as he did this, and he liked the power he had over her as he molested her. 'Oh, God! Why did I come here!?' She scolded to herself. A tear slid down her soft cheek and rested itself onto her lip. Braden took his thumb and wiped the tear from her bottom lip, then tasting it, relishing in the salty flavor of it.
"And you can't say that I have no proof. I have two witnesses to prove that you were walking your pretty colored ass in this section of town. And God knows how many crooked cops there are on my payroll to take my side." Braden looked over his shoulder at his cohorts who were busy licking their lips at the scene that was occurring before them. Braden then looked deep into Brett's eyes. "Does your husband know that your mother sold herself for money? Wouldn't it be a shame if he thought that his own wife carried those same traits?"
Brett's heart sank. Braden had more than a few foils up his sleeve to ruin Brett. "I'd say anything to get what I want."
"Except your prayers." Brett whispered.
Braden gave her a stern look. He slowly back away and released her, her wrists throbbing from the pressure he had placed on them. He stood there looking at her, wondering what she was going to say to him next.
Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, he placed it between his soft lips and lit it up. "You have until the end of the month to give me a straight answer. For your sake, I hope you choose right." Brett said nothing, feeling totally numb.
He sensuously placed his thumb in his mouth and removed it. He streaked it across her lips, leaving a trail of saliva. With quickness, Brett walked out of the room in a hurry. She walked back into the corridor. In an instant, she tripped over a sleeping bum, landing face down on the dirty floor. Luckily, she found that he was passed out and couldn't attack her. As she rose from her horizontal position, she heard muffled sounds from a young man sitting in front of her. He was playing with himself and appeared as if he was about to reach a climax. Without warning, she was met with a stream of ejaculation flying from his hand straight to her face. She screamed so loud that her shrieks could have shattered glass. Wiping her face hurriedly, she looked on with horror as the young man, who appeared to be a teenager, kept expostulating until there was nothing left to expel.
He then looked over at her with halfway shut eyes. "Dat's a little gift from me to ya. I'll give ya a dollar if you suck da rest from my balls."
Breathing hard, she ran as fast as she could from this hell on earth to the comforts of her own domicile.