Carl Weber's Kingpins

by Brittani Williams

  “I wanna fuck that young pussy that’s what I want to do. Matter of fact I want to taste it first. Pull her panties off. Yo, Trey, come help him!” Rick hollered out to one of their cousins, Trey, who was all of six feet tall and two hundred pounds.

  I continued to cry and plead with them. Jesse and Trey came over and began tugging at my shorts and then my panties. I kicked and screamed until Jesse hit me over the head causing me to get a bit dizzy.

  “Please stop. I’m a virgin,” I cried.

  “Shit, virgin pussy is the best pussy. Hurry up,” Rick yelled.

  I was sobbing so hard my entire body began to shiver.

  “Grab that rope and tie her hands up,” Rick instructed.

  The two teens grabbed my arms and tied them tightly behind my back. I was naked from the waist down.

  “Hold her legs. Spread that pussy open. Umm you see that shit? It’s fat, too, damn,” Rick said, rubbing on his dick through his jeans. He got down on his knees as the two boys spread my legs apart as wide as they could. My young pussy was staring him in the face. I wasn’t sure what he was about to do, but I knew it couldn’t be good. The next thing I felt was his tongue on the lips and then his fingers spreading them apart. I jumped and continued to cry. I closed my eyes and began to say a silent prayer. He licked, sucked, and slurped on my pussy for the next ten minutes as tears fell freely from my eyes.

  “Please stop,” I begged. He stopped but only to stuff a dirty-ass rag off the floor into my mouth.

  “Shut your ass up and enjoy it. Most bitches love their pussy ate,” Rick yelled as both Jesse and Trey giggled.

  Rick got back on his knees and assumed the position. He sat up and unzipped his pants releasing his dick from his boxers. Both Trey and Jesse turned away briefly while his dick was in their view.

  “Open her up some more for me,” he instructed. Then he moved close to me and tugged at my shirt. “Let me see those titties.”

  My breasts were now exposed as he roughly rubbed on them. Without warning, he shoved his dick inside of my tunnel, and I screamed in agony. The sound was muffled by the rag in my mouth, but I was sure it could still be heard a block away. I’d never felt pain so excruciating.

  “Damn, bitch, this pussy is tight!” he moaned as he continued to force his dick inside of me as deep as he could get it. For the next twenty minutes or so he fucked me like there was no tomorrow. The entire time I kept my eyes squinted tightly. Then suddenly his body began to shake. “Aww shit I’m cumming, goddamn, bitch,” he said before stopping and removing his dick from inside of me. I could feel the wetness and fluids he’d deposited running out of me. I was praying that they’d be done, but they weren’t.

  “My turn,” Jesse’s fat ass yelled.

  Rick came around and grabbed my leg so that Jesse could get free. Then for another half hour Jesse fucked me as well. I found myself wishing I would just die. I couldn’t think of anything worse happening and believed that death had to be better. Once Jesse was done it was Trey’s turn.

  “That pussy is all loose now. Turn her over so I can get in that ass,” he said.

  Rick and Jesse turned me over. I could hear Trey loosening his belt and heard his pants drop down. Then I heard him spit a few times and a weird sound. Then he spread my ass cheeks open and spit in between them before rubbing his hands up and down my ass crack. Then he forced his dick inside my ass. I felt it tearing. My body was tensing up even more. The pain was so unbearable that I passed out.

  When I woke up I was lying on the mattress still naked and in pain. My hands were free, but I couldn’t find my clothes anywhere. At that point my goal was to get out of there and get home as fast as I could. I ran up the steps and out of the lot toward the street ass naked. People pointed, laughed, and some gasped as my naked body flew down the block. There was blood and fluid running in between my thighs. When I finally made it up the steps and into the house, I fell to the floor in the foyer.

  “Mom. Somebody help me,” I yelled.

  My mother appeared with a cigarette in her hand. “What the fuck is going on here?”

  “Ma, I was attacked. The Johnson boys raped me,” I cried. I wanted her to make me feel better just as a mother should when her child is hurting, but instead she became angry.

  “See, that’s your fucking fault! You see what being cute does for you? Huh? You so fast to walk out here in tight-ass clothes and shit. That’s what the fuck you get. Carry your ass upstairs and take a bath. Bet you’ll listen to me now.” She took a puff of her cigarette.

  “Mom, I’m bleeding. I need to go to a doctor,” I begged.

  “You don’t need no doctor. They just busted your cherry, that’s all. Get upstairs and take a bath, and keep your ass in that room and think about what you’ve caused. This shit is your fault, so you can’t blame nobody but yourself for this shit!” she yelled before turning and walking back toward the kitchen.

  I peeled myself from the floor and began walking up the steps when she appeared again.

  “Where the fuck is the food I told you to get?”

  “It rolled out in the street when they grabbed me,” I cried. She was actually more concerned about fucking baked beans than her own child.

  “When you’re dressed, carry your ass out there and find my shit and bring it back.” She turned around and walked back into the kitchen.

  Her lack of empathy, or sympathy for that matter, was something that I had grown used to. She wasn’t the type of mother who would hug and kiss us good-bye. Her coldness was one of the reasons that I grew up cold. We weren’t raised in a loving environment so we never learned how to properly show love. I was always jealous of my friends and the relationships that they had with their parents. Deep down, I always wished that I could trade places with them, but that wish would never be granted no matter how much I prayed for it.

  I walked up to the bathroom and slammed the door. I sat in the tub and soaked for a few minutes. I was crying so loud my siblings were at the door knocking to see if I was okay. I didn’t respond. I couldn’t let them know what’d just happened to me. I was embarrassed. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe if I’d listened better none of this would’ve occurred.

  My bath was cut short when she entered the bathroom and threw some clothes at me. I got out of the tub and put on the clothes before going to see if I could find the food I’d lost. Luckily the items had rolled under a car and were still there. I looked up thanking God, because I was afraid of the whipping I was sure to get had I not found them. I picked them up and ran back home.

  Chapter Five

  The Aftermath

  Alisha

  Getting shot twice in the chest can do one of two things: kill you or wake you the fuck up! I never expected that my life would end up in such disarray, but you can chalk that up to my naiveté. I was that bitch who thought I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and get away with it. The funny thing about life is that you can never take shit back, and karma is the baddest bitch on earth.

  Thinking back, I probably wouldn’t have done things any differently, because I was just doing what I was taught to do. I had a mother who didn’t give a shit about us. She was more concerned about the increase of her monthly food stamps that came with bearing an additional child. Being the eldest child, I didn’t have a choice: either do what she said or get the fuck out.

  My mother was one who knew how to use her body to get anything she needed. Our door had so much traffic the shit was practically hanging off the hinges. The aroma of our apartment matched the scent of her stank pussy and the sweaty balls of the trifling niggas she fucked on a regular basis. It was embedded in our clothing like people who have a million roaches. It was embarrassing to say the least. I would hand-wash my clothes, and hang them out on the line hoping to get rid of the funk, but it never worked, regardless of the amount of Tide or bleach I used. Needless to say, my childhood was something that I’d give my last dime to wipe completely out of my mental bank.


  I never understood how a man could be so desperate for pussy that he’d pay for it. I finally figured it out when my body began to develop, and boys would chase me like their last meal. I was blessed with one of the softest and roundest asses that you’d ever see without any surgical enhancements. At the age of sixteen I was blessed with the measurements 32DD-25-42. My titties stood at attention, too, without the need for a bra. I hated bras so I barely wore them. If I did, it was to conceal my hard nipples during school hours. On top of that I had a pretty face and a fat pussy. I was the shit in every sense of the word. Once I realized that I was blessed with the tools to keep my pockets fat, I never wanted for anything. I remember my mother saying, “If you’re gonna spread your legs and let them taste your pussy, you better make sure you don’t leave with anything less than a hundred dollars in your pocket!”

  Back then I thought she was trying to tell me to be a prostitute, but she was just teaching me the game. That’s about the only good thing that I gained from having her as a mother. Other than that, I could’ve done a better damn job of raising my siblings than she was even capable of. She died from a cocaine overdose when I was seventeen. Burying her was the best present I’d ever received to this day.

  That may sound fucked up, but anybody who thought that I deserved the shit that happened to me could die slow as far as I was concerned. I didn’t kill anyone, not with my own hands, so in my book I didn’t deserve to be killed.

  I woke up in the hospital feeling like I had been beaten with a bag full of bricks. Every inch of my body hurt, and my chest felt like a 500-pound bitch had sat on it. There weren’t any cards, flowers, or balloons in my room and not one visitor, except my baby sister, Hope. Most people would’ve preferred to see me in a casket, but God always has a plan.

  Hope was asleep in the recliner over near the window covered up with a white hospital blanket. She was my ride or die bitch, and I knew the only thing that could’ve kept her away from my bedside was her own death. I cleared my sore-ass throat before I called out her name to wake her up.

  “Hope, wake up,” I yelled at the loudest volume that I could force.

  She jumped up like I had scared the shit out of her. I began to laugh as if I’d just heard the funniest joke.

  “That shit ain’t funny, Alisha! Damn, you know I hate when you do that shit. You lucky you all fucked up right now ’cause I’d pop you one.” She laughed.

  “I’m glad to see nothing’s changed.” I laughed. She’d always been feisty.

  “What did you think, you being shot would change how I talk to you? Shit, I’m still the same firecracker baby sister you’ve always had ready to put a bitch in their place. I can’t just kick your ass right now, that’s all.” She continued to laugh while walking over to the side of the bed, and sitting down.

  “Did they catch that nigga?” I asked. I was anxious to find out the fate of Dontay.

  “Naw, but he’ll get his. I have something in the works for his ass.”

  “Something like what? He’s dangerous, Chas. I don’t need you to defend my honor. The cops will catch him and deal with it.”

  “Fuck the cops, Alisha. They don’t give a fuck about you. You really think you are their first priority? You can wait on that shit if you want, but I’m not. Fuck that! You’re the only family I have, and I almost lost you. Somebody has to pay for that shit.”

  She got up from the bed, and paced the floor. I’d never seen her so angry. I had always been the one to step up, and take care of shit when things got out of control. If this had been a few years ago, I would’ve been gearing up to go to war, but things were different now. I was given another chance at life, and I didn’t want to waste it.

  “Chas, he shot me so I’m pissed, but look at all of the shit that I’ve done. It could’ve been worse. I could be dead. I need you.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to just sit around and watch this muthafucker walk around like he didn’t do shit. He deserves to suffer. I’m not going to do anything to get myself killed, I promise.”

  “Well, at least wait until I’m back on my feet so that I can help you,” I pleaded. I was hoping that once I was better I could talk her out of whatever warped idea she had in her mind.

  “This isn’t up for discussion. Shit is already in motion so I need you to focus on getting better. That’s all you need to worry about right now. I got this.”

  I looked at her and saw so much of myself. If there was one thing in the world that I regretted, it was passing on the fucked-up mentality that I once had. I knew what I wanted and never cared what I did or who I had to hurt to get there. The game had taken so much from us. Hell, both of my brothers were murdered.

  She continued to talk, but I couldn’t hear her. I had drifted back in time thinking about all of the mistakes that I’d made, and trying to figure out what I could do to change her fate. I didn’t want her to end up like me. I would die trying to make shit right. I knew that I’d created a monster, but it was time for this shit to stop, point blank period.

  Chapter Six

  Trouble

  Dontay

  For the next few years, things were tough. I could remember my mother selling all of her jewelry and furs to pay the bills. Eventually, she went and got a job at the Shop-N-Bag supermarket. By the time I was fifteen, I was determined to make enough money to help her out. I didn’t know any other way to get money legally at that age so the streets were my outlet. That’s where my best friend Rick came in.

  Rick was a big-ass nigga for his age. Shit, he was big for any damn age to be honest. At fifteen, he stood six foot two and weighed well over 200 pounds. He wasn’t a bully like most big kids were, but everyone knew not to fuck with him. He was known to knock niggas on their ass for testing him. He was strong as hell, too. I’d see him knock countless niggas out cold. So because of his size and strength, he was given the nickname Horse. His older brother, Nate, was a pretty well-known drug dealer. At the time, he was only nineteen, but already had five years in the game. Horse was always talking about working for his brother, and after I grew tired of waiting I finally approached the subject seriously.

  School had just let out and, as usual, Horse and me walked the long way through the neighborhood. We would shoot the breeze and holler at the chicks we’d pass along the way. We’d also always stop in the Papi store on the corner to grab a few snacks. We’d always walk through the block where Nate and his crew hung out so, before we got there, I wanted to ask Horse to talk to Nate.

  “Let me ask you something, Horse,” I said as we stopped at the red light.

  “What’s up?” he asked, snacking on the barbecue chips he held in his hands.

  “You’re always talking about getting down with Nate and his crew. I wanted to know if I could get down too.”

  “Huh? Not Mr. College Bound.” He laughed.

  “I’m being serious right now. I’m tired of watching my mom struggling and shit. I want to see her laidback with her feet up on some island. Not standing for ten hours at a damn supermarket for chump change.”

  “You really serious, bro?” he asked as he stopped walking.

  “Dead serious, man. I really need this. I’ll start from the bottom. Whatever I need to do to prove myself.”

  “All right, man, let’s go see if he’s on the block. I’ll holler at him for you.”

  “Thanks, man,” I said as I gave him a quick handshake and hug.

  We walked around York Street to find Nate and a few of his boys sitting on the corner steps.

  “What’s up, niggas,” Horse said, raising his hands up in the air. “Yo, Nate, I need to holler at you for a second.”

  “A’ight,” Nate said as he and Horse walked around the corner just out of view.

  I stood there with Nasir, Jungle, and Lou as they passed around a tightly rolled blunt. “You want some, li’l nigga?” Jungle asked.

  “Naw, I’m good,” I replied. I stood listening to their conversation for the next five minutes until Hors
e called me to the corner.

  “Yo, Dontay, come here for a minute,” Horse said, waving his hands.

  I walked around the corner. Nate was posted up against the pay phone sipping on a Colt 45 with a lit cigarette in his left hand. “So Horse tells me you want to work for me,” he said before puffing his cigarette and blowing out smoke.

  “Yeah, man. I really need to get on. Shit is rough over at the crib. I’m tired of watching my mom struggle.”

  “What’s up wit’ that nigga Jimmy Black? Ain’t that yo’ daddy?”

  “Man, fuck that nigga. That’s my sperm donor. He don’t deserve to be called Daddy,” I said through clenched teeth. Just the mention of him made my blood boil.

  “All right, li’l nigga, don’t bite my head off. I don’t like that muthafucker anyway. What’s good with the security at y’all school? Do they be watching y’all?”

  “Nah, they don’t really fuck with us like that. They pretty chill in there.”

  “All right. Well, I’ma give you a shot because you’re his right-hand man, but don’t fuck me over. I won’t have a problem bussin’ a cap in your ass,” he said as he pointed to the gun on his waist.

  “Horse is like my brother, man. I would never do you like that. I really need this shit, man. I appreciate you even thinking about giving me a chance.”

  “I’m gonna set y’all up with some small bags of weed. I want y’all to take that shit to school and move it. Depending on how well y’all do with that, I’ll decide if I want to give y’all some real work,” he said.

  “Thanks a lot, man. I really appreciate it,” I said.