Wildin On Staten Island

by Noire

  I still put in work for Skully around the whorehouse, but almost every dollar I earned went right back to him to pay for China Doll’s bed fees. She offered to get a job working in town but I didn’t want no other men looking at her so I took a job at the lumberyard hauling wood every other day. The work was dirty and backbreaking, but I was cool with it. Like I said, whatever the fuck I had to do to turn a dollar and keep my woman off her back, I was willing to do it.

  Soon woodcutting season was just about over and the lumberyard was slowing down. I showed up one day to work a full shift, and instead they sent me home after just three hours. I got back to the house and opened the door to my room expecting to find China Doll looking at a magazine or polishing her pretty toes, but instead my baby was on her knees in the doggy-position, face down, ass up, spittin’ sixteen bars of a whore’s rap and grinding her sugary twat just like a natural hoe.

  “Fuck me, Daddy! Yeah, this your pussy so just tell me what to do with it! Ooooh, Daddy, don’t beat me so good! I’ma listen and do right the next time, I swear I will! Just keep fuckin’ me like you fuckin me, Daddy, and I’ll do whatever you say. I’ma bring home ALL your money, Daddy. I’ma make you rich with this pussy! I swear I will! I swear I will! I swear I will. . .

  I stood in that doorway dumbfounded like a muthafucka.

  A big black muscle-bound nigga had his dick jammed up in my baby from behind, riding her deep and pounding her down. He was thrusting and pumping. His shiny black ass cheeks were moving like a piston. He rose up on his powerful forearms and snapped his hips, pushing deep inside her pussy as he bent his neck and slobbered all over her back.

  My young eyes clearly saw, but my young mind just couldn’t fuckin conceive.

  “Sk-Sk-Skully?” I stuttered.

  Slowly, that big nigga turned his head and locked me in his evil glare. He kept right on fucking her as he grilled me, like he was gonna take his own sweet time coming up outta my pussy. He slapped her on the ass and dicked her real hard a few more times until he got his nut, then he yanked her pretty hair and grunted loudly. His wet dick slid outta her with a slurping sound, and he backed up off her and swung his powerful legs over the side of my bed.

  China Doll rolled over and clutched the sheet up over her luscious breasts. Her eyes were expressionless as she looked past me, like she played and betrayed chump-ass niggas every day.

  A wave of pain and rage rushed through me and I felt myself about to explode.

  “What’s wrong, Gerald?” Skully said calmly. “Them white boys run you off the job early today or something?”

  He reached down and snatched my pillow off the bed and dried his horse-sized dick with it, then he dabbed it at the sweat under his big purple balls and thoroughly wiped the crack of his ass.

  Letting my pillow fall to the floor, Skully stretched and yawned and then bent down to pick up his drawers. His muscles rippled like black velvet ropes and he didn’t even look at me as he scratched them big nuts of his then stepped into his silk boxers like he didn’t have a care in the world. I was frozen in place as he pulled on his pants and slung his fancy shirt over his massive shoulders and then slid his feet into his shiny new shoes.

  His snake eyes bit me as he walked toward the door.

  “That’s some real tender pussy you got there, Gerald,” he said coldly, nodding at China Doll who had tossed the sheet aside and lay spread eagle in my bed with her bold titties on full display. “She takes it up the ass just fine too.”

  I rushed him. Smashed my elbow into that muthafucka’s temple and drove my fist into his kidney. Pain exploded in my wrist. Like I had just pounded a frozen slab of beef. He rose up on his heels and wrapped them skull crusher hands around my throat and I damn near blacked out from the agony. Skully was much bigger than me. Stronger too. I wasn’t much more than a boy but that nigga was all man.

  I punched wildly, struggling to break free as I gasped for air.

  He laughed. “Who the fuck is you swinging on, Gerald? You must want me to beat yo ass like you one of the hoes!”

  He muscled me backwards across the room until my shoulders slammed hard into the wall. Pictures rattled on their hooks and Piggy tipped off the shelf and went crashing down to the floor, exploding in a tornado of silver change and colorful ceramic glass.

  Ignoring the mess Skully let go of my neck with one hand and smashed me in the face with his clenched, iron fist.

  “S’the matter?” he taunted me as I grunted in pain. A hot stream of blood shot from my busted nose and ran down my throat. “You cranky cause I got up in that pussy, boy?”

  I swung at his chin. He blocked my punch easily and clobbered me again.

  “You too soft for the pimp game, nigga! Fuck wrong wit’ you? Letting this stank hoe lay up in ya bed and hustle you like a trick! I know I taught you better’n that! How many times I gotta tell you there ain’t no such thing as an ex-hoe, boy? This ain’t a grind you can live part-time.”

  A strangled cry rose in my chest. I was gonna kill this muthafucka. Not because I thought he was lying, but because I knew he was spitting the truth.

  “A’ight, calm down now, son,” Skully laughed as he tagged me in the face again and split my bottom lip open with a haymaker. “I done got me some pussy now let’s go get something to eat.”

  I came at him hard again, pinching, snapping my teeth, trying to knee him in the nuts; fighting dirty the way he had taught me.

  He jumped back and held his rock-hard fist threateningly in the air. “You too light in the ass to keep eating these right hooks, son. Why you wanna fight me anyhow? Because I “skullied” your hoe? Hell, I didn’t fuck that pussy outta existence! There’s still enough of that stank trim leftover for you and the next hundred niggas too!”

  I caught him with a left to the temple and he reached out and pimp-smacked the shit outta me. My face burned with fire as I tucked my chin low and tried to head butt him, and he nailed me with a body shot that almost caved in my ribs. I gasped and sucked for air. There wasn’t a muthafuckin sip to be found. I staggered over to the window choking and heaving and Skully charged after me, skipping up on his toes like he was chasing me around a boxing ring.

  “All this time I been giving your black ass free lessons,” he taunted me, “And you still don’t know shit about handlin’ bitches!”

  Skully let loose and rained down on me with a quick flurry of power punches. Jabs, uppercuts, and extreme body shots. He smashed me like a hammer coming down on a roach, and I felt myself growing weak and fading. But I refused to go out. I fought back with everything I had, but it just wasn’t enough. I knew it was over when he gripped me by the head and set me up for the knockout punch. Desperate, I ducked down low and bear-hugged him around his thighs, driving that thick muthafucka backwards with my last bit of strength. He responded with pounding blows to the back of my head and shoulders as he back-pedaled across the room, fighting to keep his feet up under him.

  He was drilling my head and back hard enough to rattle my brains and knock out a kidney, but I knew if I turned him loose he would kill me. I tightened my grip and drove against him even harder, and adrenaline sent us both sailing across the room. We crashed hard into the closet door, splintering the cheap wood and damn near tearing out the frame.

  The force of the impact slammed Skully’s head and shoulders half-way through the wood. I heard him grunt and then his whole body shuddered. My head was buried in Skully’s gut, and suddenly his arms went limp at his sides.

  Still bent over hugging his waist, I peeked up at him fearful of the killer blows that I just knew were gonna rain down on me next.

  And that’s when I saw it.

  Skully’s chin was on his chest and his mouth was slack. A thin trickle of blood had escaped his parted lips and was sliding down into his trimmed beard. I blinked a few times and took a closer look. That nigga’s eyes were wide open, but he wasn’t seeing a goddamn thing.

  Dead silence hung in the air until China Doll sat up and scurried
to the foot of the bed and stared at us. She sucked in her breath and then hollered at the top of her lungs, “Oh, shit muthafucka! That nigga’s dead! You killed him, Gerald! You fuckin’ KILLED him!”

  I stood all the way up and stared into Skully’s vacant eyes in horror. The long metal coat hook that had impaled his skull still had China Doll’s slip hanging from it. It had punched straight through the back of his head, and I could just make out the pointed silver tip tryna poke out through his right temple.

  My mouth dried up and I trembled inside. That nigga was dead, all right. I had killed him. I sure the fuck had.

  I knew exactly what was coming next, and I made up my mind that before they came and took me away there was one last thing I had to do. I turned toward that ugly bitch China Doll and started unbuckling my belt. If I was gonna pay for my crimes then this lying-ass whore was gonna pay for hers too.

  Mack ya hoes, boy! Don’t you never let a bitch mack you!

  I put my paws on China Doll like a natural macaroni. And with the approving eyes of Alabama’s favorite pimp watching me from the closet door where he was hung up like a winter coat, I beat the brakes off that filthy hoe and then I wrestled her down to the floor and skullied her black ass half to death!

  From B4 The G-Spot! Pick up your copy TODAY!

  Enjoyed G’s story?

  Then move on to G-Spot: An Urban Erotic Tale to learn more about the fate of Juicy Stanfield (excerpt below) and then get full on the first urban erotic serial tale, G-Spot 2: The Seven Deadly Sins! (Pride, Betrayal, Greed, Envy, Lust, Trickery, and Revenge).

  All available in Kindle, Nook, and Print format.

  Check out

  G-Spot 2: The Seven Deadly Sins

  A Serial Novel Told in 7 Parts

  Pride

  Betrayal

  Greed

  Envy

  Lust

  Trickery

  Revenge

  Revenge: The Alternate Ending

  Available Now!

  Find out what happens to Juicy in…

  G-Spot 2: The Seven Deadly Sins

  A Serial Novel by Noire

  READ AN EXCERPT HERE…

  In the beginning…

  Have you ever rolled over in the middle of the night and been so damn thankful you just broke down and cried? Did you praise God for delivering you from a grimy Dungeon and blessing you with a tiny taste of heaven? Did you wake up every morning chillin’ in the arms of the one you loved? Snuggled deep in the sheets like nothing could ever hurt you? That shit felt perfect, didn’t it? So perfect, that you let your guard down and stopped looking over your shoulder, right? But then... did you get caught slippin? Did you start waking up in the darkness gripped by fear? Your body trembling in terror? Did you lay there paralyzed, with prophecy lurking over your head and holding you prisoner? Did you feel doomed to a punishment that you knew you didn’t deserve? Did you search desperately for a way out, but no matter how far you ran, you just couldn’t outrun your fate? Come hang out with me for a minute, y’all. Sit down and get comfortable as I tell you what happened when I hauled ass outta Harlem and ran smack into my destiny. My name is Juicy Monique Stanfield. I escaped from the G-Spot, and this is the rest of my story...

  From

  G-Spot 2: The Seven Deadly Sins

  A Serial Novel by Noire

  PRIDE: The 1st Deadly Sin

  CHAPTER 1

  California Dreamin’

  The young girl ran like the devil was after her.

  And he was, too. He chased her down 136th Street all the way to Lenox Avenue. He ran her past pizza parlors, hair salons, and Italian icee stands. Past corner boys and street yummies working hard on the grind. The thick crowds parted as the good people of Harlem fell back in terror. They knew this devil. They knew him well. And they feared him just as much as the innocent young girl did.

  Up ahead someone yelled out the young girl’s name. She glanced down Lenox Avenue and saw her whole family standing behind the window of the Dominican beauty parlor where she used to wash hair.

  Grandmother, Jimmy, Cara, Dicey, and even Aunt Ree. They were all there in her terrifying dream. Huddled together at the window looking worried in the face. Peeping the devil on her tail, they started jumping up and down and beckoning with their arms. They screamed for her and reached for her. They begged her to run like hell.

  The young girl’s feet were heavy as she fled toward the beauty shop. There was safety on the other side of those swinging doors, and if she made it inside she might just live.

  But if she got caught…a bitter chill crept down her spine. If she didn’t get inside that shop then the devil was going to ride her until she wished she was dead.

  The sun beamed down on her as she fled. A Johnny pump was open near the corner and a bunch of little kids played in its gushing spray. The girl darted past them and her feet splashed in the cold water. She had just stepped up on the curb when the devil’s hot breath scorched the back of her neck.

  Flinching, she slipped and fell in the wet gutter. The skin of her knees ripped on the gritty pavement. She sat up soaked and terrified. She wiped her hands on her shorts, and to her horror the icy water was now steaming-hot and had turned red and slick like blood.

  She yelped in disgust, and that evil-ass devil laughed dead in her ear. He scared her so badly that she almost surrendered right then and there. But she couldn’t. Because her people were waiting for her in that beauty shop. They were screaming for her. Crying. Begging her to move.

  “You betta run, goddammit!” Dicey stood in the doorway and hollered. Her eyes bulged in her pie-face and when she opened her mouth the girl saw a mangled stump of flesh where her friend’s tongue should have been.

  “Run, Juicy-Mo! Run! You seent how that evil mothafucka did me, right? Don’t you let him get a hold of you too!”

  Jumping to her feet, the young girl scurried onto the sidewalk. With the devil hot on her tail, she sprinted toward the open arms of her old friend and the safety of the beauty parlor. Seconds later she lunged through the doorway. Her friend grabbed her hands and pulled her inside, and then pushed something soft and warm into her palm.

  “I made it!” The young girl cried, sinking to the floor in exhausted relief. “I made it!”

  She crawled past Dicey and further into the safety of the beauty shop. She looked toward the window for the rest of her family, but suddenly the front door banged shut, and just like in a dream... everything changed.

  The girl blinked and glanced around. She was in a familiar place, but it wasn’t a salon full of Dominican hair stylists. No, she was someplace else. In a fancy, expensive joint. Then suddenly she knew.

  And that’s when the terror hit her.

  She was at the G-Spot. The hottest gentlemen’s club in Harlem. She glanced around the posh room. Everything about it screamed sex, money, danger, and drugs. Kingpins and high-stake rollers stood around wearing diamond Rolexes and high-priced clothing, and half-naked dancers aimed to please.

  The girl glanced down. The floor she was kneeling on was spotless and made of real marble. Stripper music played in the background and the smell of Hennessy and crisp dollar bills floated in the air.

  Oh hell no, the young girl thought, trembling in fear. She wasn’t in a beauty parlor. And it wasn’t Dicey who had snatched her inside either.

  Her throat closed up when she saw the hellacious pair of alligator shoes that were suddenly right in front of her. She was scared to imagine who they belonged to, and she forced herself look up from her knees.

  She shivered as her eyes climbed a pair of long legs clad in the finest of fabric. The devil might have been a liar, but he sure looked good and he smelled good too.

  His teeth were bone-white and his hands were rough and black. Evil rolled off him, and she could tell he was pissed by the way he twirled the huge onyx ring on his middle finger.

  Her eyes traveled further up his thick, muscled-up chest and paused near his throat. A raging pulse beat visibly
under his smooth dark skin, just below his jaw line.

  “Get moving, you nasty bitch!” said the devil. His voice scraped her ears like hot gravel and the girl knew she was going straight to hell.

  “Move, hoe!” The devil swung his foot and planted it deep in her stomach. She collapsed, and he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her down a hallway and into a crowded room full of people.

  The blue lights were dim, and the odor of smoldering hash and sweet Philly blunts filled the air. The crowd had been waiting patiently for the devil. They fell silent as he approached, and she could tell the devil had their love and their respect too.

  He barked a series of orders, and suddenly the music stopped and all the lights came on. The devil dragged her out to the middle of a large stripper stage. The girl’s mouth went dry as she peered at the waiting crowd.

  Her family had front row seats. A bloody sheet was draped over her mother’s slender, creamy shoulders. Grandmother had mortician’s makeup caked all over her face, and Jimmy-Jo and Aunt Ree both wore hats to hide the bullet-trimmed portions of their skulls that were no longer there.

  Something warm pulsed and throbbed in the girl’s clenched fist. She uncurled her fingers and stared at the soft, wet thing she’d been holding.

  It was Dicey’s tongue.

  She yelped and flung it to the floor. The devil laughed, then stomped it like a fat cockroach under his shoe.

  He held his hand high in the air and signaled to the multitudes. The room grew cold and still. He spoke in a rumbling voice that sparked terror, even in the hearts of the dead.