Law and Order

She pulled into the parking lot of Zion Lutheran about 15 minutes early. Sitting in her car and waiting for Max to show up, Katie reflected on the last time they met in this parking lot. It was a cold winter evening, unlike this warm summer night. His cock was hard and out when she got in his heated truck. They didn't even share small talk, he just pushed her head down on his dick and started fucking her mouth. When all was said and done, after he had deposited his creamy load in her stomach, Max thought he noticed some sort of movement in the shadows. He insisted on walking Katie to her car to make sure she was safe. He held the door for her and gave her a hug and even waited until her car was warm and she drove off. To Katie, that meant that he valued her, that he saw her as more than just a hole or three to fuck. It made her feel beautiful and valued.

Right on time, Max pulled into the parking lot in his shiny Black Tahoe, kept the engine running, and blinked the high beams to signal for Katie to join him. She wobbled in her cheap shoes to the passenger side, opened the door, and slid in. Before the door was closed good, she heard a voice from the back seat, "Hello Katie." Horrified, Katie turned. She knew instinctively that it was Trenae. Katie panicked and reached for the door.

"Freeze," Max said calmly, knowing full well that he had power over Katie that his girlfriend never could. He was right. She loved the assertiveness and alpha male attitude Max had, there was something biologically magnetic about his masculinity that made her melt to his will.

"Now," Trenae spoke softly, "I thought I told you, don't contact my man ever again or there would be consequences. I did tell her that, didn't I, Maxwell? Do you remember me telling her that?"

They laughed, "Yes, baby, I remember that very clearly."

Turning to get a better look, the glow from the street lights illuminated Trenae just enough for Katie to realize she was out of her league. Trenae's outfit was flawless, even her makeup looked professionally done. She was the type of women who would turn heads wherever she went. She appeared to be the same height as Katie but it was clear that her deep, rich, ebony skin tone was without even the tiniest imperfection. Her almond shaped eyes were enchanting; her full, African lips were pouty and inviting. Her hair was a thick mass of kinks and curls. It was more evident that she was Max's equal aesthetically. Katie, in that moment, felt all the fear and insecurity of a teenage girl in high school competing for attention for a boy with the captain of the cheerleading squad.

Trying to figure out the fastest way out of this situation, realizing she was over her head and that they had set her up, Katie started negotiating. "Listen, I'm sorry I contacted you Max," speaking directly to him and completely ignoring Trenae, "I just wanted to talk . . . I . . . I . . . I just needed to make sure that my life was safe. That's all. You have to understand, I just couldn't take the chance that she was going to tell my husband. I . . . I won't . . . look, I just want to go home and I promise I won't contact you again."

Trenae spoke up. "Maxwell, does she look like she came here to just talk? Looks like to me . . . I mean . . . to meeeeeee it looks like she came here to get fucked. What does it look like to you?"

"If I were a gambling man . . . and I am . . . I would put my money on the fact that she came here to get some of this dick." He grabbed his thick package and they laughed. Katie's face was flush with color. She was seething inside, angry and trying to figure out how to take control of the situation but trapped by her own ego.

Max put the car in drive and pulled out onto the street. "Wait, where are we going? I wanna go home," Katie protested, "Let me out!" She reached for the door handle like she was going to open it knowing full well that there was no way she was going to do that in a moving vehicle. She was really starting to panic. She didn't know if they were going to hurt her or not. All of her fears about how violent Black people are started flooding her brain. She was hyperventilating and trying to hold back the tears. She thought they were going to kill her, that she was going to be just like all those white women on the news who were kidnapped by Black men. She could be forgiven for thinking that in the heat of the moment because she was too scared to realize that almost each and every allegation of a white women being kidnapped by a Black man was made up in an attempt by another adulterous married white whore to gain attention or get away from her husband. Hot tears streamed down her face and smeared her makeup.

Less than ten minutes later, they pulled into an underground parking garage and she pulled herself together enough to get her wits about her. She hadn't been paying attention to where they were going so she couldn't have gotten back to her car if she wanted. At least, she thought, she still had her cell phone. She could call a taxi to take her back to her car or call the police if she had to. She didn't want to do that just yet, she didn't want to have to answer questions to her husband about a police report so she just waited to see what was going to happen. "Where are we? What are you going to do to me? This is kidnapping. If you let me go now, I promise not to call the police."

"I think you've forgotten something, Missy. Max and I know the law a little bit better than you do. We have proof that you wanted to meet with him. It would be really hard for you to allege that we kidnapped you when you initiated the meeting," Trenae responded casually as if she didn't give a good god damn what Katie was threatening. "You see, you broke the law, my law that I very specifically spelled out for you." Trenae got out of the truck and opened up the front door and held her hand out to help Katie down. Katie defiantly ignored the gesture and held on to the door frame to get down. Trenae continued as they all walked towards the door of a rather nice townhouse, Max leading the way. "You know what happens when you break the law, Katie? You have to suffer the consequences. This here is the Trenae Roberts Justice system, and the people are represented by two separate but equally important factions: the bitch, that's me, who investigates the crimes, and the black mother fucker, that's Maxwell, who prosecutes the offenders." Trenae and Max burst out into outrageous laughter. "You like that babe, I just made that up on the spot. That was funny, right?" They gave each other a fist bump and looked at Katie for some sign of acknowledgement that it was, in fact, hilarious. Katie was not amused.

Max unlocked the door and they all ascended a flight of stairs that lead to a living room; Katie could see a kitchen and dining room off to the left. By this time, her nerves had calmed down a bit and she was just waiting for what was going to happen. She didn't think they were going to hurt her so she was trying to figure out how she was going to explain all this to her husband because surely, she thought, that was their goal, to destroy her marriage. Katie was calculating how much of this she could lie, deny, and exactly how trapped her husband felt in his life of mediocrity for him to overlook her transgression and opt to stay in a marriage. If Katie could just convince him that it was a one-time mistake that she would never do again she was sure all would be forgiven. "What do you want from me? Money? Well, I'm not going to give you any. I know how you people are. If I give in to your blackmail, it will never stop. Go ahead, tell my husband. He loves me and he'll forgive me." Reverse psychology was not a skill set she had mastered.

Trenae rolled her eyes. "Bitch, didn't I tell you to shut the fuck up? God damn! Blackmail? Dumb bitch. Shut the hell up. You people? Who the fuck does this bitch think we are, some sort of common criminals? Give me a mother fucking break." Trenae's tirade waned off into something incoherent as she and Max both went up another flight of stairs, leaving Katie sitting there, unattended.

In that moment, sitting there alone, unsure of what to do, Katie Largo felt completely out of her element. She was trying to decide whether or not to make a run for it but her curiosity got the best of her and she was quite convinced she couldn't make it very far in her heels without her feet blistering and bleeding. She wanted to stay, she wanted to see just what Max and Trenae had in store for her. She wanted to stay to see it out to the end, whatever that meant. She had done all this to herself. The cheating, insisting on contacting Max again, if she had only been sane enough to just walk away, none of this would have been happening.

At her core, in the deep recesses of her subconscious mind, she knew unequivocally that there was something wrong with her, that a normal, healthy, mature person wouldn't have put themselves in this situation. Her conscious mind told her, however, that it wasn't people who looked like her who were motivated by lust, who made poor choices based on their libidos. Katie was perfectly content to rationalize that she was justified for every single step she had taken thus far, she was OK with the lying, the cheating, the desperate and despicable behavior because her sexuality was so compartmentalized and dysfunctional, her self-perceptions of what it meant to be a married, white woman were so removed from her actual behaviors she could rationalize that everything she had done to date was acceptable.

"Come here, bitch," Max bellowed from upstairs. Katie wobbled on her heels to the stairs and saw Trenae standing at the top of the staircase. She was dressed in a pair of black panties, a matching bra, and heels that didn't appear to belong to either a stripper or a hooker. She did appear to be rather annoyed, however. Katie didn't even let it faze her and she ascended the stairs slowly. When she got to the top of the stairs, Trenae stood firmly in the way between Katie and Max and she wouldn't move. She stood there stoically, silently waiting for Katie to ask permission to pass. It was a test of wills, a showdown of woman vs. woman, a battle of the bitches. Max appeared at a bedroom door off to the side, "What are you waiting for, bitch, I told you to come here?"

Feeling empowered, Katie physically pushed Trenae to the side and breezed past her to stand obediently by Max's side. She felt quite proud of herself, like she was serving her Master well, so much so that she was oblivious to the audible gasp of outrage and shock by both Max and Trenae. To her credit, it wasn't as if she was being intentionally disrespectful to Trenae it was just that Katie couldn't wrap her mind around the concept that she was inferior to her. She suffered from a form of cognitive dissonance, it was impossible for her to grasp that she didn't possess some sort of inherent privileged status over Trenae. In Katie's mind, she had white skin and that meant that she had to mean more to Max on some hierarchal/genetic/intrinsic level. To contemplate anything other than that would cause her brain to shut down.

Even though she couldn't articulate her beliefs, even though Katie had never once given an ounce of thought to her relationship with Black women (or more appropriately, the lack of a relationship with them) Katie had lived her entire, pathetic 48 years with the subconscious belief that she was better than Black women and never exposed herself to a person or experience that would challenge that belief. She didn't know anything about Black women, nor did she care. She had never leafed through the pages of an Essence Magazine, she had never read a book by Toni Morrison or Alice Walker, she had never once seen Waiting to Exhale or The Color Purple; Katie had never had a real Black girlfriend in her life. She would occasionally glance at a picture of Michelle Obama when some website was reporting about her outfit or she would stare in mild disgust as she surfed the TV at one of those shows where Black women were weaved out, backstabbing, social-climbers but that was really the extent of her interaction with or contemplation about Black women. Pushing Trenae aside was like flicking a bug off her plate at a cookout. She felt no connection, care, or concern.

Max was not so disaffected. "Bitch, are you crazy? What the fuck is wrong with you? How dare you disrespect my queen like that." If the real life situation had been a 70's Blaxploitation flick, this would have been the scene where Katie would have gotten soundly pimp-slapped and ended up flying half way across the room. Katie stared up at Max in sincere shock and disbelief. She didn't understand, couldn't understand. Standing there, wide-eyed and bewildered, Katie wondered why Max appeared to be upset. She knew Trenae was his girlfriend but that didn't mean much to her. She figured that she had a husband whom she casually disrespected all the time so couldn't grasp why Max appeared to be upset with her for pushing aside just a girlfriend.

Max grabbed Katie by the arm and dragged her into the bedroom. She scrambled behind trying not to fall. It was clearly a spare bedroom because it was sparsely furnished. There was a small lamp on the corner of the desk that illuminated the entire room and kept everyone in shadow. Trenae appeared at the door and she walked over to Max and he put his arm around her and kissed her softly on the forehead. "You okay, babe? I mean . . . she didn't hurt you or anything did she?"

Trenae chuckled and offered, "No, she didn't hurt me but thank you, precious, for being concerned about me," and kissed him back on the lips. It was a tender, sweet exchange and for a brief moment Katie felt a pang of jealousy that she had never, not once in her life, had anyone kiss her so tenderly, with such meaning. Trenae immediately picked up on Katie's look of insecurity and took advantage of the situation. Sliding her hand up Max's now bare, muscled chest, she teased his nipple briefly before bringing her hand around to the back of his neck and pulling him down to her, she kissed him passionately. Their kiss wasn't just a kiss; it was the communication of African spirits freed from bondage. Alvin Ailey himself couldn't have choreographed a better dance of tongues and thick, full lips moving together in harmony. Max's hands roamed down the sides of Trenae's body, finding their resting place on the curves of her full, round ass. Filling his hands with her meat, he pulled her body closer as they continued to kiss. Gentle, soft moans escaped her lips and her body began to writhe and move like she was fucking Max standing up.

Katie cleared her throat. She thought to herself, "I have too much self-respect to let them ignore me like some sort of inconsequential furnishing. I'm not going to take this." The fact that she had been on her knees in a public restroom performing oral sex on FOUR men a few months ago, the fact that she had been slapped, choked, gagged, and degraded and asked for more, the fact that self-respect was the last term that should ever be associated with her was an irony totally and completely lost on her. "Look," she said rather arrogantly, "If you two want to be alone I can . . ."

Before the words completely left her lips, both Max and Trenae said in syncopated harmony, "Bitch, SHUT UP," and she was effectively silenced. Their patience was running thin for Katie's company so they decided to move the action along. Katie was instructed to take off her shoes and Trenae pulled off her pants and thong and left her there with just her sparkly shirt on. Max reached in her top and pulled out her tits, leaving her exposed in a vulgar, obscene way.

During all of the adjustments and maneuvering, Katie stood there and complied like a malleable, pliable doll, not once voicing any concern or desire to be let go. Max squeezed her saggy breasts with their age spots and stretch marks and brown nipples that never really got hard and for a split second, it registered as pain in her mind and she cried out and tried to pull away. The discomfort didn't last long and was commuted to pleasure in her brain in short order and she was begging for more.

"You like that, don't you?" Trenae whispered softly in her ear from behind, her body intimately close. Katie responded by whimpering. She didn't like it, she loved it. Trenae continued. "You really are a nasty slut, aren't you, a filthy white whore? Look at you, turned on by being treated like an object. You came here to get your pussy, mouth, and asshole pounded by some hard, black cock. You want Maxwell to fill your horny cunt with his hot sperm, have it dripping out when you go home to your little-dicked hubby. I bet your pussy is wet right now just thinking about it, isn't it?" Katie nodded, never making a sound, never taking her eyes off Max but she was fixated on the voice that was in her ear, in her head really, saying all the things that she wanted to hear.

Standing in the middle of the room and all of her senses heightened, Katie craved release. She wanted to get fucked and used and to have it all culminate in an explosive orgasm. Trenae brought her hand around and placed it against Katie's collar bone and slowly and purposefully slid her hand upward until it was firmly wrapped around Katie's throat. She applied pressure firmly and gently, restricting her air, sensually choking her. It wasn't vicious or mean-spirited, it was a symbolic gesture declaring, "You might not have any care or concern for me, I but control you, I know you. I see through your flimsy façade of conservatism to who you really are and what you are is an empty, soulless woman who will use anyone or anything to get what you want." Trenae squeezed harder. Katie remained stoic but her eyes told a different story. She was terrified, not of getting choked but of who and what she really was.

Max backed away slowly, watching the two women, Katie never took her eyes off him. Attired only in black boxer briefs, the evidence of his arousal was clear to see, even in the dimly lit room. Trenae squeezed harder still. Katie's eyes started to dart around the room. She wasn't sure what the rules of this game were supposed to be but she didn't want to show any fear to Max. It was like a game of chicken except Katie was the only player. Max wanted to see when she would break, when she would start to panic. Lack of control was killing her much more so than lack of oxygen and she caved to the pressure. Desperately grabbing, she tried to pry Trenae's fingers from their grip on her esophagus but they wouldn't budge.

"You cheating, lying, amoral, disgusting whore!" In her haze of confusion, Katie almost couldn't tell where the words were coming from. For a split second she thought she might have said them herself. Without warning, Trenae loosened the grasp around Katie's neck and she fell to the floor crying, a mass of whimpering flesh. This wasn't arousing to her anymore. She wanted to go home, to go back to her reality where she never had to think about anything.

Trenae walked over to the bed, kneeled on the foot of it, and waved her finger for Max to come to her. He was magnetically drawn to her and stepped over Katie like she wasn't even there. He put his hands on her waist and they kissed, this time, more fevered and passionate. Max kissed the nape of her neck and Trenae looked directly at Katie and silently mouthed the words, "Sweetie, you will NEVER have this." Throwing her head back, she luxuriated in the kiss. Katie looked on in horror. She knew what was going to happen. She wanted it to stop but she knew better than to say anything. In silence on the floor, half naked and her pussy wet, she watched as the pair began to make love in front of her very eyes.

This was her torture, this was her punishment. She was going to have to be forced to witness what was unobtainable in her life: true passion, true love. She would much rather be beaten and whipped and made to do unspeakable acts of depravity rather than to see the object of her lust and passion completely consumed by the charms of another woman, a woman with whom she couldn't even pretend to feel some connection. In a move that Katie thought only happened in the movies, Max started to sing to Trenae, really sing. He was serenading her and doing it extremely well. She never knew Max could sing let alone so well. "Like sweet morning dew, I took one look at you, and it was plain to see, you were my destiny."