Cherry bomb, p.1
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       Cherry Bomb, p.1

           J.W. Phillips
 
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Cherry Bomb


  Cherry Bomb

  Featuring

  Cherry Lemonade

  By

  J.W. Phillips

  The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread.

  ~Mother Teresa

  Copyright © 2015 J.W. Phillips

  All rights reserved

  Smashwords Edition

  ISBN

  This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of events to real life, or of characters to actual persons, is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction.

  Drake Hart

  Six-years-old

  Late December

  I was scared. I was always scared. I tried not being. I really did. And good. I tried harder to be good, so Mommy didn’t get mad. If she got real mad she would lock me outside. It was scary on the streets. The men were creepy out there and were always drinking smelly stuff that made them act happy. A few even smoked those funny looking cigarettes. And most of the other mommies were always screaming and beating their kids. I wished my Mommy would yell at me. I just wished she would look at me. She used to love me. Before Billy left with his real daddy. I didn’t have a real daddy. I heard someone say I was some john’s kid. But John must not want me either.

  Now, she left me to take care of this baby with the softest red curls and dimples. Why did Mommy even bring her home? Was it not enough that I went to bed hungry at night? Taking care of me came naturally. Billy, my big brother, called it the fight or flight mentality. He was a good one to talk. He left me, and I didn’t even know how to call him to tell him that Mommy had another little kid like me. Someone else Mommy didn’t love either. I just wanted someone to love me.

  Even God didn’t love me. The old lady next door with the crazy blue hair told me to pray to God and he would take care of me. But he didn’t. I prayed every night that God would take me and Katie away from here – from Mommy and those men who hit me. One tried to hit Katie but I wouldn’t let him. I would never let them hurt my Katie.

  Then came the day that changed it all.

  “I got you, baby,” I said real soft, trying to ease the tears in my little sister. I had made her a bottle like Mommy showed me. But she didn’t seem to like it. I tried changing her diaper but she didn’t have anymore, so I wrapped her up in my Mickey Mouse shirt. I thought Mickey would make her happy. But she was so little, I wasn’t sure she knew who Mickey was.

  “Please, don’t cry, Katie, I’ll take care of you. You’ve someone that loves you. I love you.” I snuggled us both under the chair that I had covered in some old blankets. It was our private little bunker to keep us safe from that man Mommy brought home last night. He made Mommy cry. I didn’t like what they did on the couch while I was watching television. I covered Katie’s ears. I didn’t want her to be scared too.

  I cringed and crawled to the back of the chair when I heard the front door open and close. Oh, no, it was heavy footsteps. Heavy footsteps meant a man, usually a mad man. “Shh, Katie, they want me not you.”

  The footsteps were getting closer, and Katie kept crying. “Please, Katie,” I said and started to cry myself. My jaw already hurt from the last time one of them got mad at me. “Please, God, I’ll always be good but please let him leave me alone.”

  “Drake,” I heard the man say, but the voice didn’t sound mad. It sounded . . . I wasn’t sure but the man wasn’t screaming. I hated screaming.

  “Drake.” I heard again. I peeked out from under the blanket hanging over us and saw a pair of clean shoes. I had never seen shoes that clean. I glanced up a little father and saw a pair of blue jeans and then his face.

  I crawled out as fast as I could, holding Katie tight against me. “Billy,” I said as he kneeled down beside me. I thought he had forgotten me. That he quit loving me too. But there he was, throwing his arms around me and Katie.

  “Who do you have here, little brother?” he asked, eyeing my baby sister in my arms. I twisted on my feet. He had to love her too. She was beautiful and didn’t cry all the time.

  “Katie,” I answered and looked up at Billy, his eyes were kind. But he was still a man and men hated spoiled brats that made noise. “Don’t be mad at her. She’s hungry and doesn’t like my bottle.”

  “Drake, are you taking care of her by yourself?” His face fell. He looked sad. Kind of like that man I saw one time laying by his little girl after that big, scary man shot her. Did Katie make him sad? She couldn’t. She wasn’t like me. She was good.

  “I’ll do better. I’ll make her a new bottle.” She liked the ones I put more powder in but it made Mommy mad when I made them like that, she said it was being wasteful.

  “Drake, where’s Mom?”

  I shook my head. “No, she’s sleeping.” I shook my head some more. “She said if I wake them up he will hurt me.”

  He reached for Katie but I clutched her harder. She was mine.

  “I just want to hold her. She’s pretty. She looks like Mom. Is she Mom's?”

  “She’s mine.” I felt the tears again. He was going to take her to Mommy. Mommy would be mean to her. She might let that man hurt Katie.

  “You’re taking very good care of her.” He tugged on the shirt I had wrapped around her. “Is this yours?”

  I nodded. Billy’s eyes moved over my face and settled on the black-eye I had. He reached over and stroked the back of his thumb across it. A shake went down my back. It hurt but I smiled, hoping he didn’t see me shake. He smiled back but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “I know she’s yours. She’s lucky to have you too. But is Mom her mom too?”

  I nodded again.

  Billy stood up. “I’m just going to see if Mom's awake. You take care of Katie, and I’ll be back shortly, okay, Buddy.”

  “Okay.”

  He fingered my hair. It felt good to have someone touch me like that. I waited and watched him walk down the hall. He was going in Mommy’s room. I wasn’t allowed to go in Mommy’s room. It was an adult room for adult things. I was scared again. What if she didn’t think Billy was an adult? I looked down at Katie who had cried herself to sleep in my arms. I would be quiet and just listen outside. I knew how to be very, very quiet. It was important to be quiet and not seen in my house. I tipped-toed down the hall but stopped when the screaming started. I placed my hand over Katie’s ear.

  “No more of this shit. He’s a baby himself, taking care of some bastard’s kid,” Billy said in a way that let me know his jaw was tight.

  I shook, I didn’t like him talking about my Katie. I wasn’t sure what a bastard was but Katie couldn’t be that ugly word.

  “I’m tired, baby. Let me sleep and then we’ll talk. I had a long night if you know what I mean.” I heard Mommy laughing. I had forgotten how much I loved the sound of her laughter.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. You spent the night fucking this loser while your six-year old worried over a baby he shouldn’t even be caring for in the first place.”

  I heard that man yell, “Hey.” And I started to retreat down the hall. But Mommy hushed him, and I couldn’t hear him get up, so I took a step back toward Mommy’s room to hear. I wanted to peek in through the crack in the door. But I knew better.

  “Calm down, Drake loves Katie. It doesn’t hurt him to make a bottle from time to time.”

  I always made her bottles. I had promised her I would take care of her, and that she wouldn’t go to bed hungry.

  “You are a fucking loser. Did you know that? I’m taking Drake and that baby, and if you try to stop me I’ll call
the police. They’ll love to see the left side of Drake’s face. It’s so swollen he can’t even see out of that eye. Hell, did you even get him a gift at Christmas.”

  I didn’t need no stupid present. Santa was a lie, and only little boys who were good got gifts.

  “I didn’t get anything either,” Mommy said, and tried to calm Billy with those soft sounds.

  “Let me go, you bitch. You don’t deserve anything especially those kids. Their mine now.”

  “Did you hear that, Katie? God has finally answered my prayer and he's helping us leave,” I wanted to scream but it might make Billy mad if I did. I heard Billy moving, so I backed away and down the hall, avoiding the noisy creaks. I didn’t want to make any noise or Billy might decide he didn’t want me too.

  Dedication

  My dedication is too Liz Stephenson. She was my Sir in so many ways.

  However, she is no Sir, but one Hell of a Madam.

  Drake Hart

  I slid the blindfold around her face and tied it firmly in place. Her head swayed as she adjusted to total darkness. I leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Good evening, babe.”

  She shivered as I trailed a finger around her naked waist. I couldn’t even remember what she was wearing. Hell, I couldn't have cared less. I didn’t even take the time to learn her name. They were all the same. They spent too much time styling their hair, carefully applying their make-up, and picking out that perfect dress; hoping they’d be different. Special somehow. After a hundred or so fucks, no one was special.

  “I know who you are, what you want, what you desire. I will give you everything you need and then I will fuck you. Understand?”

  She nodded. Shit, she was already annoying the hell out of me.

  “Say yes, Sir,” I demanded.

  “Yes, Sir,” she mumbled then bit down on her plump, fuckable lips.

  I needed to fuck that mouth because nothing else she was doing was affecting my limp dick. I helped guide her into position on her knees to take care of business. It wasn’t a forceful push but definitely one to show her who was in charge.

  I jerked her hands above her head, making fast work of the ropes. I tugged on them, admiring my handiwork with a knot. Who said no one ever learned anything useful from Boy Scouts.

  “Now open that beautiful mouth,” I said, looming over her.

  She gasped as her lips fell wide open.

  “Panting already?” I asked and started stroking the entire length of my cock through my pants. “You want it, babe? You want to feel how good it is as I fuck your pretty little mouth?”

  Unconsciously, she licked her lips.

  “Do you like to suck that ass you are married to off? Does your pussy get wet when you think about his cock?”

  “No, Sir,” she whispered, bowed her head, and awarded me with that perfect submissive look.

  The helpless look she had as she knelt at my feet with her mouth wide open almost made my dick twitch. I causally unzipped my jeans, bringing the massive head of my dick close to her lips. I didn’t move any closer, making her work to fit my entire length into her mouth. Fuck, she sucked, and not in a good way. She couldn’t find a rhythm if her life depended on it. I would give her credit, she was eager and tried.

  Immediately, I grabbed her nipples and pinched down hard. She let out a scream, letting my cock fall from her mouth.

  “You want me to let go, my pet?” I leaned in and asked.

  She nodded as I pinched down harder.

  “Then suck my cock right, bitch,” I said with a cold indifference that contrary to my earlier gentleness. I rammed my cock into her opened mouth. “Suck, slut. I will tell you when you need to breathe, to think, to beg, and when I am ready to throw your sorry ass away, then you will thank me for even allowing you the pleasure of having me.”

  She struggled to take me deeper into her mouth. Fuck that shit. I saved her the trouble: released her breast and fisted my hands into her hair, yanking her closer, and fucked that mouth, deep and hard until I hit the back of her throat. She gagged like crazy but never fought my assault.

  “I should take a picture.” I smiled, knowing cameras were everywhere and already snapping them.

  Finally, I was feeling it. The tightness in my balls sent a shiver down the base of my cock. “Fuck yeah, babe.”

  I was close but this wasn’t for enjoyment. She was nothing more to me than a damn job. A job I could at least try to enjoy. With a moan, I shoved her back and jerked her to her feet with a tug of her hair. Pulling her across the room, I pushed her face down onto a rough, withered table. She winced, but I didn’t give her time to adjust before sliding on a condom and slamming my cock into her from behind.

  She screamed and started grinding desperately onto my cock. I couldn’t take another second of her dreadful movement. No wonder someone wanted to rid themselves of her ass. If I had to stomach fucking her for the rest of my life I would want to blow someone’s brains out.

  I shoved her off of me, pushing the table and her a good ten feet, and glanced off at a wall full of assortment of paddles, whips, riding crops, and chains. Seeing what I needed, I snatched four leather cuffs off the wall and took my time walking back to where she was face down on the table, a tear sliding down her left cheek.

  “You want me to make you forget all your problems? Touch your skin, kiss your lips, my pet.”

  She wailed out a moan.

  "Then stick your ass up in the air, bitch," I ordered as I yanked her arm against the table leg. She obeyed instantly as I made fast work of securing all four of her extremities to the table legs. She was unable to move so I resumed the pistoning of my engorged dick in and out of her wet pussy. It was almost gratifying. Her cunt started pulsing around me, signaling her impending release.

  “You’re close. How does it feel to finally desire a man like this?” I stopped and pulled out of her. She moaned almost painfully.

  After pulling up my jeans, I walked over to the wet bar in the corner and poured myself a drink of Jack and Coke. She wiggled her ass. “Do you want me, sweet girl? Do you miss the feel of me sliding in and out of your sweet cunt?”

  I took my precious time, watching her helplessly strain against the ropes.

  When I walk back up behind her, she yanked against the bindings around her wrist and reached for my pants leg.

  “Did I give you permission to touch me?”

  “No, I’m . . .”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I said cutting off her weak, pitiful voice. “If only,” I started to say and lightly rubbed a finger over her folds. “If only you would have obeyed, I would be stroking this sweet, wet pussy with my cock right now.”

  Suddenly, I placed a stinging slap across her left ass cheek then stroked over the hot, red hand print. Feeling her relax under my touch, I slapped her harder causing her to scream out in pain.

  “I don’t care what you want. The only thing that matters tonight is what I want,” I whispered before rubbing my hand between her legs. I pop her clitoris with the palm of my hand then resumed the soft stroking of it. Pain mixing with pleasure was capable of bringing on the strongest orgasm. I slapped her clitoris once more. “The rules are simple make me happy and I will reward you. Disobey me and you will be punished. Do you want me to reward you, babe?”

  “I only want you to be pleased, Sir,” she said with a whimper.

  “Good girl, my sweet pet. Beg.”

  “Please, use my holes, Sir,” she said between moans.

  I eased her ass cheeks apart, bracing her to take me deep between her thighs. But instead another sight caught my eye. I traced my finger over the puckering of her anus. It flinched under my touch.

  “Have you ever let your husband stick his small dick in here?” I asked, sinking the tip of my finger into the opening.

  “No,” she answered.

  The slight moans escaping her lips let me know she wanted this.

  “Do you want me to? Do you want to know what it feels like to have my dick slide dee
p into that tight, little asshole?”

  Before I could even wiggle my finger out, she was screaming, “Please, please fuck my asshole, Sir.”

  “You’re not ready for that yet. But you will be.”

  I kneeled behind her, flicked my tongue over the wetness of her nasty cunt, and swirled my tongue around, probing the tip inside of her. She tasted okay. I’ve had worse, and I’ve had a hell of a lot better too. I slipped my hand up between her thighs and stroked over her clit.

  She screamed out at the sensation of me working my thumb and tongue over her engorged clitoris. I stopped, stood up, and smacked her ass before thrusting back into her.

  “Thank you, Sir,” she screamed out. “I’ll never forget tonight.”

  I will, so shut the fuck up and let me finish. The sound of her voice irritated the hell out of me and distracted me from the warm, wet vice-grip of her pussy. I slid off the tie from around my shirt collar, gagged her mouth with it, and continued to impale her with my dick, so damn deep I could feel her cervix with every thrust.

  I felt the familiar clench of her trembling sex. She was close. I slapped her ass and pounded harder, again and again. She came with a muffled scream, and squeezed my dick with that scorching pussy. I let out a grunt before one final thrust then pulled out, coming all over her firm, round ass.

  I yanked my tie from her lips and walked away, leaving her tied to the table for my assistant to handle. They know before agreeing to come with me that they are no more than a random fuck. The biggest lie anyone ever believed was that emotions and sex were combined. I could fuck all day, but I’d be dammed if I ever felt again. Feeling was not worth the pain. So I hardened my heart, and became the man I was; a fucking machine who didn’t give a shit.

  “Sir, Master,” her voice trailed after me.

  I rolled my eyes; sure I wouldn’t even remember her face in the morning. I didn’t kiss or hold them. I sure as hell didn’t stay around to see if they were okay. That might have been a night she would dream about for years, but it was just another scene for me. She was no more than another fuck: a warm hole to get my dick wet, a pay check.

 
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