Maximum Badonkadonk Ch. 12

"Would you please be nice to me?"

"Yeah, sure." I took a seat next to her offering my hand. Instead of taking it, Charity went into her purse producing some wipes which she used to meticulously clean her essence from my right hand.

"That Walt guy was watching us in his rear view mirror; he saw what you were doing."

"I would've stopped."

"I didn't want you to; I like the way you handle me sometimes, but I guess I wanted to just, do something. In the old days I would've had Jayson beat the shit out of him for that. Hell, maybe even got off to it too, in retrospect. So yeah, I'm not a good person and I've been paying for it ever since things went south in my so called life."

"Who is Jayson?"

"Ex-boyfriend; kicked me to the curb for a hag; all that time and effort wasted with nothing in return. I would've shredded his ass but Daddy already took my phone and laptop after mom had them scrubbed. Yeah, if you saw him, you'd never fuck with me. I could make him do all kinds of things, even take three fingers while I filmed it."

"Charity Gilbert, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"One of my friends said he'd never let me do it; but I knew Jayson was cheating. I already knew what buttons to push especially after hours of doing it, so we played a game. Then, he was literally putty on my hand, three fingers to be exact. I told him nobody at school would know, none of his boys or the football coach. Told him it was a onetime thing, but he let me do it again because he thought I was leaving him. Maybe he thought I'd tell."

"Charity, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm a control freak."

"Yeah, kind of figured that out already." I minimalized her issues on purpose not wanting to offer any sort of anecdote or empathy. After Vicky Stone, I was emotionally burnt out but eager to level up psychologically.

"I made him cum a bunch of times; so he apparently liked having his prostrate milked."

"You wanna control me; is that why you keep bringing that shit up?"

"Man, I'm so fucking frustrated, angry and pissed off most of the time because I used to have it all. A nice cushy room in my mom's condo, everything I ever wanted in clothes, jewels and electronics while being at the top of the food chain in my school. I was the student body president, then it all went to shit because Jayson cheated, again. Even gave the little bitch his letterman's jacket publicly declaring his "love" for her and making me the side chick by default."

"What did you do?"

"When I saw that motherfucker on television saying all of that shit; man, I bitched out like you wouldn't believe. Found out about her little secret because you see; all of us pretty people have the same fucking habits. She was hiding a down low boyfriend too; some meek little wimp who almost fainted when I smiled at him. So, I fucked his brains out in my living room and let him cum all over the place, then as was my habit, took a naked pic of him."

"Showed it to Jayson, right?"

"Jayson almost killed that nigga and I could've cared less because he was right where I wanted him. I thought I had the shit locked down especially after filming him exploring his "feminine side"; told him everything would be okay as long as he kept his priorities in place. You see, I was going to be an NFL wife and divorce that nigga after having two picture perfect insurance babies. Had it all planned out, even made him snatch my letterman's jacket off of that ratchet cunt's back. He delivered that jacket putting it around my shoulders while she watched, and I laughed my fucking ass off in her face."

"Snore, so you conquered the world in high school bitch; tell me, who brought you down?"

"Jaleel, the down low boyfriend; how was I supposed to know that nigga was the right hand of God?" Charity scoffed glancing over her shoulder at the foot traffic while I wrapped my head around her answer.

"So, why tell me all of this."

"You remind me of him in so many ways; and that's why I want to stick three fingers up your ass. It would be methadone for everything I've lost. I wanted you to know that because you keep frustrating me just like he did before that knockout punch came from on high."

"That's not gonna happen."

"Might." Charity looked at me smiling as she interlocked her fingers with my own. The confession was a long time coming whether I was the one hearing it or somebody else.

"Maybe you should do that nasty shit to Officer Fuckboy." I offered.

"Silly boy; he's been terminated over two hours ago. I thought you were offering me a shopping spree because of that certified spanking he got from the ladies. Haven't you checked my work at all?"

I got out my phone pulling up the results finding that Charity had indeed rolled a snowball down the proverbial hill. Officer Johnson's side chick page had disappeared, went poof up into the air as I imagined he was starting to feel the weight of his innumerable sexual conquests crashing down on him like the spartan army. I clicked on his main family page finding a few humorous videos there. One was simply a laptop computer piquing my curiosity.

"Bae, we ain't gotta do this; I told you somebody got it twisted! It's just somebody messing around down there at the station; you know how the guys are, it's jokes!! WHY YOU GOTTA BE UP IN MY SHIT LIKE THAT BAE!!! AIN'T NOTHING GOING ON!! BAE?!! BAE?!!"

A woman's hand with long detailed nails appeared in frame setting a glass of wine on the counter next to the laptop.

"Open it."

"I TOLD YOU AIN'T NOTHING IN THERE BAE!! COME ON, THINK ABOUT ALL WE GOT HERE, THE KIDS!! BAE!! YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU, RIGHT?!! AIN'T NOTHING GOING ON BAE!!" The big muscular police officer was nowhere in frame but heard audibly becoming progressively hysterical as the clip continued.

"I'm not going to tell you again, open this laptop or I'm calling I.T. from my job over here."

"BAE-BABY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!! DON'T DO THIS TO ME BAE!! PLEASE BAE, LETS JUST BE HAPPY!!" The hysterical blubbering was jarring. It sounded like he was blowing snot bubbles on the verge of regurgitating.

"Stop crying, as you know we live in a no default divorce state, but since I have a vagina, you're utterly fucked once I speed dial my attorney. And less you forget, Jasmine never liked you. It's go time nigga; make your choice."

He was blubbering, whaling uncontrollably as she spoke making it feel as if he'd received some form of corporal punishment beforehand. Office Johnson was sniveling, blowing snot, and hiccupping excessively. His trembling hands appeared in frame fumbling with the laptop unlocking it. Mrs. Johnson's hand quickly slapped his away turning the laptop towards the camera, inserting a USB Flash Drive.

"Get out of here, pack your things up." Her fingers were dancing across the laptop keys in a blur of balletic movement ending the clip.

There was a pic of what I assumed was the outside of Officer's Johnson's home. The photo was taken through the open front door revealing this walkway leading up to it bordered on either side by tall hedges. A few feet outside it just before you reached the adjacent sidewalk, were several trash bags full of his belongings. The pavement around it was littered with various odds and ends.

Charity leaned in looking at the carnage with me, wrapping an arm around my waist sharing the experience as I found a clip revealing Mrs. Johnson to the world. She was this slender black woman with some noticeably wide hips sitting in what appeared to be a spacious modernly designed living room. This woman looked like a supermodel; her face told you she meant business as she sat drinking before going into what sounded like a state of the union type address.

"I've put my husband out of this house and cut up all of his credit cards. He will not be allowed access to his children pending a psychiatric evaluation and battery of STD tests. Fortunately, my children are away at summer camp, so it affords me ample opportunity to find an adequate nanny which my unfortunate husband will be paying for among other things. So, that being said; message received whoever you are. You wanted the nigga; you now have him. Officer Johnson, is for the streets and obviously so, are you; I guess plural."

She took a sip of wine from her glass.

"You were upset about the trinkets he bought using my credit card, huh? Pathetic ladies, utterly irredeemable, but I guess I don't have to tell you that shit, right Carlie? Let me tell you this babe; that ring and bracelet are the most expensive things you're ever going to get from my soon to be ex-husband. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for a date. Hell, I'm lying; I'm gonna fuck the shit out of my newly minted boy toy after I put this on his finger."

Mrs. Johnson put the wine glass down picking up her husband's wedding ring which she showed to the camera before the clip ended.

"Damn, she's savage as fuck; took over his page and everything." Both of us found a pic of Mrs. Johnson inside a deep walk-in closet.

One side was lined with meticulously hung clothes while the opposite was rack upon rack of shoes. She was standing with her back to the camera wearing a skimpy brassiere and panty set. It was the kind that was bits of triangular fabric held in place with miniscule gold chains. She was thin with this pronounced bubble butt on display. Her body was oiled down catching the light.

One of her hands brandished a pair of scissors.

"No rest for the wicked, huh?" Charity reached down using her finger to scroll over to Carlie's page where I was not surprised to find some pics of Officer Johnson's things just inside the door of a very familiar apartment. It was the second floor apartment I'd been using in the last days of my association with her aunt's toxic set.

"That nigga ended up with two bags of shit."

"Can I cook, or can I cook, huh?" Charity covered the face of my phone looking up into my face. I gave her a peck on the lips that turned into a brief make out session.

"Alright, let's do some shopping; I'm interested in seeing you in all your glory. We're gonna get you some clothes and I'll figure out something to square it away with your dad, or we can get Phoebe to hold onto your shit."

We were on the far side of the mall from where we usually congregated. There were a number of high end stores in this section making it the center of attention and foot traffic. Charity clung to my side pressing into my body unwittingly revealing her embarrassment at being out in public dressed in her old uniform. Me, I was on a mini-mission to find out more about this defrocked villain.

Her drubbing at the hands of someone she considered beneath her was utterly devastating. I wondered if I was crossing some karmic line by associating with Charity Gilbert.

She was a means to an end; a tool, this weapon of mass destruction that I would use to level up. To that end, it made sense to dole out rewards when necessary to keep the tiger from biting my hand off or eating me alive.

"Here we are."

"Hey, you do know this is rather high end; you have to have a bit of coin to shop here, understand?"

"So uhm, you wanna go to the second hand store across the street from the mall, right? Everything's under twenty dollars over there Charity." She tugged on my arm hiding in my side to cover the grin on her face.

We got looks from some of the foot traffic passing by as I looped an arm escorting her inside the clothing store. Inside everything was well lit with rows and stacks of clothing as far as the eye could see. I would say the pedestrian traffic inside was one third of what it would be normally.

The changing rooms were dead center in the middle of the floor doubled over back to back. Each one came equipped with saloon doors that covered the middle of each booth. A frumpy dumpy looking security guard passed by making sure we could see him getting a nod of acknowledgment from me while Charity scoffed.

She was beyond insulted as we strolled up to the elevated front counter finding three teens manning the registers. It was a weird Bizarro situation because I was reminded of Charity's former job as a manager across the opposite side of the mall at a now closed store. All three were smiling, perky Caucasian girls wearing their street clothes with only a name tag to identify them as employees. The security guard took up post at the end of the counter but I ignored him.

"Excuse me, uhm Heather?" The main girl obviously a manager half leaned over the counter smiling at me in a genuine way.

"Yes sir, what can we do for you?" Heather was this sort of chubby teen with a head full of curly blonde hair appearing the oldest out of the trio. The other two girls were staring at our interaction, one female with a mouth full of metal as I glanced at Charity then back at Heather motioning towards my partner in crime with a thumb.

"Can you pimp my ride?" Charity's purse slammed into my butt loudly as the girls burst into laughter along with the security guard whose name was Smithy.

We ended up talking for a minute as I sat outside the store on some benches waiting for Charity to find some decent clothing. Heather and one of her friends got involved taking my joking request at face value. A stern faced supervisor, some jerk with a buzzcut showed up to reprimand Smithy taking him away from our conversation allowing me to dig out the burner phone for use. I attached the voice changer dialing up Hotdog on a Stick.

"Hotdog on a Stick; how can I help you?" Another female teenager answered with manufactured glibness.

"I'd like to speak to Andre." My altered voice was deep and menacing, basically the same audio resonance as the killer in these old slasher movies called Scream.

"Uhm sorry sir, employees aren't allowed to have personal calls."

"PUT THAT NIGGA ON THE PHONE BITCH!!" There was this sort of jangling sound that made it seem as if she'd dropped the receiver. I fully expected this girl to hang up but was surprised when I heard some talking recognizing the living dildo's voice.

"Hello?"

"YEAH NIGGA, HOW'S IT DO?!! YOU THAT MOTHERFUCKER THAT'S BEEN FUCKING MY BITCH!! AIN'T THAT RIGHT FOOL?!!" He didn't answer taking the time to process my question.

"You want to order a hotdog on a stick?" I did a doubletake looking at the face of the burner phone.

"MOIST ASS NIGGA; YOU FUCKING MY BITCH RIGHT?!!"

"Uhm, I don't understand."

"I TELL YOU WHAT; I'M GONNA COME DOWN THERE AND STICK THAT FUCKING HOTDOG UP YOUR ASS!! YOU AIN'T SHIT NIGGA, I'M GONNA WET YOU UP BRUH!! YEAH, I MIGHT EVEN GET WITH YOUR GIRL, TOO!!"

"Who is this?"

"HEY NIGGA, I'M GONNA COME DOWN THERE AND SQUARE UP!! DON'T PLAY THE ROLE, I'M GONNA BEAT YOUR ASS NIGGA!! PUNK ASS, MOIST BUTTER BOOTY, FUCKTARD!!"

"I'm hanging up now." Andre was beyond spooked ending the call with a whimper.

My first salvo was nearly complete as I went back to social media checking on Officer Johnson's progress. I figured Shawnee was long gone, no longer cohabiting an apartment with Andre 13.5 leaving her former boyfriend to Carlie or his oft mentioned wife. That was a mystery for the ages I was unwilling to delve into preferring to continue the coup de grace before the day was over.

Mrs. Johnson's appropriation of her husband's page continued with a new posted pic for the benefit of all of his extramarital dalliances. This woman took stunting to a whole new level in a pic which imitated the famous Janet Jackson cover of Rolling Stone. She was still inside that closet, but now joined by some big, buffed guy face obscured because he was kissing the back of her neck.

His large hands were covering her breasts; an open bottle of champagne hung from her small fist as I read the caption.

"Thinking about posting the sex tape online."

I folded one leg over the other pleased as punch at this turn of events. At that moment I was thrust backward in time to the night Vicky Stone confessed everything in front of my house. Officer Johnson was responsible for stealing away my happiness and locking Vicky away in my opinion. I wasn't going to allow that fucker one moment of peace.

Carlie Kelly was not going to be allowed to provide a soft landing for that asshole as I looked up her page finding a new pic which depicted the good officer's shoes lining the wall inside the bedroom. His garbage bags full of shit were stuffed in the closet. I got up walking over to an adjacent greeting card store where I purchased a medium sized manila envelope, a felt tip marker and one blank label. My phone started ringing as I made the purchase.

"What's up Charity?"

"Where are you; did you ditch me?"

"No I was sitting outside waiting for you to finish up; and I was rolling a snowball of my own."

"Can you come back in here; I'm in the middle changing room facing the door." My brow was furrowed as I considered what kind of drama she was having now.

"I'll go to the counter and pay for the shit; just come out."

"Please."

"Huh?"

"Just come over here." I wasn't used to her begging, but I'd been screwing around with her head for a minute. A caveat, Charity was a necessary evil that I needed to pacify in some respects.

"Okay."

I reluctantly strolled back into the expensive boutique finding it still sparsely populated with various women and their long suffering partners. One of the girls from behind the counter, some scruffy redhead was eyeballing me with this goofy look on her face waving back when I waved. I navigated the stuffed clothing racks finding some benches facing the changing room doors. I noticed a guy or two looking equally put off at our shared predicament.

"No, she's around the other side in the middle." Scruffy redhead called out before I could sit.

"Thanks."

On the other side it was easy to find and sit in front of Charity's changing room. Her purse was visible on the floor under the double saloon doors along with her bare calves and feet. I took the opportunity to glance at my phone waiting for her to finish up.

"Are you there?"

"Yeah."

"Good, I was starting to get nervous thinking you were messing with me again. I didn't want to look like a fool when I got to the register and didn't have the money to purchase these items. You do realize we're going to have to stop at your place so I can change clothes, right?"

"I'm gonna fix it so that you can take that stuff home with you Charity."

"Dad's never gonna let me wear these clothes."

"Shut up, stop being so negative." She didn't respond as I continued looking at my phone wholly disinterested.

I shot a text to Tressie Fisher looking to ply my leverage over Mr. Gilbert with her big tits but got no response in return. I ended up in a lively text conversation with Phoebe finagling her into the role of "Ms. Hady" for the purpose of explaining Charity's appearance. Phoebe was working from home with little time for me, but we made plans to hook up later in the week. I got out my voice changer walking back into the aisles away from Charity's changing room dialing up Andre again.

"Hello?" The person answering the phone didn't wait immediately putting him on the line.

"HEY NIGGA I'M COMING FOR YOU!!" My voice sounded particularly menacing.

"Sir, this is a business line and I'll have you know that I'm having this call traced. You will be on the receiving end of some litigation if you continue playing on this phone."

"OH YOU FUCKING HIM TOO?!! TELL THAT NIGGA I'M WHUPPING HIS ASS FOR CHEATING ON ME!!" I just went with it, going with the flow as the conversation evolved.

"Come again?"

"NAH IT'S COOL BRUH!! TELL THAT NIGGA I'M GONNA POST THAT LITTLE MOVIE WE MADE ON SOCIAL MEDIA!! YOU CAN WATCH HIM TOPPING ME OFF BITCH!!" I hung up in the manager's face turning to find Heather the store manager staring incredulously at me.

"Uh, just playing a prank on my cousin." I was afraid she'd call security or worse, the cops. The seventeen year old cupped a hand over her mouth snickering.