There were twenty-six students in my dance class, including me. I didn’t socialize with most of them because I didn’t want them asking questions about my life. I could tell we were different. They lived in the dorms and went to campus parties at night. I had a Samoan driver named Pacho who dropped me off at school and picked me up after my last class. Then I hung out with strippers and hoes until the sun came up.
I liked school and would have been a better student if G would let me stay home and study sometimes. I was failing my science class. I could not get the hang of chemistry with all those symbols because I did not study. When I told G he said not to worry about getting an F in the class. Just take it again next semester.
There was a guy in my dance class named Vincent. We got paired up together a lot because we were both so good with our bodies. G said men who danced in tights were all gay, but I thought he was wrong. Vincent had a strong body and nice eyes. He smiled a lot and I liked the way his hands felt when he held my waist or lifted me up in the air. Sometimes it seemed like we moved so good together it was almost like we were only one body.
For our dance midterm we were giving an evening performance on the school stage. I wanted G to come because I wanted him to be proud of what I had learned. But I should have known better. G had a front row seat, and waiting in the wings I could see him sitting there twirling his onyx ring.
The lights were shining on me and Vincent as we danced to Latino beats, then brought the tempo down easy with a few jazz routines. For the finale Vincent lifted me in the air and slid my body down against his until I reached the floor. We had been practicing this move for weeks and each time I slid down his front I felt his erection. At the end of the dance I put my leg up on his shoulder and bent my back until my head almost touched my ass. We stayed like this with our crotches touching as the audience clapped and the music faded. When I turned around to take my bow, G’s seat was empty.
I didn’t bother changing my clothes after the show. I just grabbed my bag and ran outside but there was no car waiting for me. No G, no Pacho, no ride home. I wanted to cry as I walked slowly back inside. I didn’t have any money to call a cab so I would have to change clothes and jump the turnstile to catch the downtown train to the G-Spot. This was the first time G had ever let me go home alone, and I knew it meant something bad.
Vincent walked out of the men’s locker room as I was going in the door.
“Good job, Juicy,” he told me. “You felt good out there.”
I corrected him. “You mean I looked good out there.”
“No, Juicy. I meant just what I said. You felt good. Your body always feels good to me.”
I didn’t know what to say. But I knew what the look on Vincent’s face meant. I had been seeing it in men’s eyes from the time I was twelve. Back then it used to make me feel nasty. Grandmother told me I didn’t have no control over how I was shaped. She didn’t know where I got all my titties, but said hips and ass ran on her side of the family. At twelve a stare like that from a man could make me run and hide in shame. At nineteen it made me feel hot.
“Are you going home?” Vincent wanted to know.
“Yeah, I have to take the train because my ride left.”
“Oh!” He looked at me with those eyes of his. “That was your father sitting out there, right? I saw him watching you. He looks like one of those back-in-the-day brothers. Sharp dresser for an old head. He didn’t wait for you?”
I was so embarrassed. “Yeah, that was him. He had to leave. He had to check on his business.”
“Then can I walk you to the train?”
“Okay, let me change my clothes first.”
I walked with Vincent to the station. I told him I had lost my wallet and he gave me his MetroCard. Although we had danced together I still felt shy with him. It also felt nice to be with a man my own age who was interested in the same things as me. We got to the train station far too quickly, and when Vincent said good-bye he kissed me on my cheek with soft lips.
I didn’t know how to act. I ran down the stairs and jumped on the first train that came. Good thing it was the local instead of the express because that gave me enough time to cross my legs and have three silent orgasms before I reached my stop. All I had to do was think about how Vincent’s hands felt on my body and the touch of his lips on my cheek.
When I walked into the G-Spot Pacho was sitting at the bar. He gave me a funny look as if to say, Beats the hell out of me what just went down. Moonie was behind the bar drying glasses. To those who didn’t know, Moonie looked like the average bartender. He was a short narrow-faced brother with eyes that saw everything that moved, and a lot of stuff that didn’t move, too. But I knew the scoop. Moonie was G’s right-hand man. His position behind the bar was just a front. He took care of security for G’s entire operation, and even in the middle of a big crowd, Moonie knew exactly who was in the Spot and what they were doing at any given moment.
“Hey Moonie. You know where G is?” Of course he knew. He was real soft-spoken and looked downright harmless. But Moonie kept his shit understated on purpose. That’s why so many niggers slept on him. They usually didn’t even see his Glock until it was pressed against their foreheads.
He grinned at me with all them big-ass teeth. “What’s up, Juicy. I think he went back to his office a minute ago.”
I walked to the back of the club to where G’s office was located. I passed by the Jacuzzi, the sauna, and the cinema room where they showed skin flicks all night long. On the far side of G’s office was a stairwell that led down to the Dungeon, two words I’d been warned never to even whisper. I don’t know what all went on down in that basement, but I’d heard it was soundproof.
Right next to G’s office was a large storage room where the cleaning people kept their supplies. Two maids were standing inside gathering paper towels and toilet tissue, and I nodded hi to both of them before knocking on G’s door.
“Come in,” he said in a deep voice.
G was sitting at his desk with his hands behind his head. A lit cigar was in his ashtray and Barry White was playing on his stereo. There was a baby picture of his son Gino on the wall. Another picture was facedown on G’s desk. One time I had picked it up and looked and saw that it was his ex-wife. She was pretty as hell. I wondered why he kept it facedown like that.
“Hi. I looked for you after the show. I didn’t see the car so I took the train home.”
“Sit down.”
I sat down and my hands and knees were shaking. I didn’t know what the look on G’s face meant but I knew it wasn’t good.
“Dig, girl. You looked trifling out there tonight. If that’s what you’re doing all day I might as well keep my money instead of throwing it away on you and that school.”
“I was just dancing, G. I thought you said you wanted me to study dance.”
“That wasn’t no motherfucking dancing! If you wanna dance like that you can get your ass in one of the back rooms and stand over some nigger’s lap and make me some goddamn money!”
I didn’t say anything because I was nervous and didn’t know what to say. Whenever I did something wrong G said things like that, things about turning me out, and it terrified me.
“Pacho is gonna take you home. Make sure you clean all three bathrooms before I get there.”
I was scared half to death. We had two maids for the apartment. One for the weekdays and one for weekends. One time G had caught me sweeping the floor and he snatched the broom from me and broke it over his leg screaming, “My woman don’t have to push no broom! That’s what I pay these damn maids for. You just concentrate on looking good and keeping your man happy.”
And now he wanted me to scrub the toilets? I knew he was punishing me and I guess I deserved it. G was slick and smart. Game recognized game. He had sensed the throb between me and Vincent, and he was sending me a serious message.
When Pacho dropped me off at the apartment, Thomas, one of the five doormen, let me in. Jimmy was in his room listening to his music loud and playing another damn video game. I opened his door and waved at him and he nodded and kept on playing.
Jimmy was happy here and it made me feel good to know that I was taking care of him. I thought my grandmother and my mother would be proud of me for looking out for my baby brother and for hooking up with G so that we could live like this. I really believed Grandmother would understand about me being G’s woman, but she would frown at all the sexual thoughts I had and the way I was dying to get satisfied. She would tell me the devil was in me and I needed to pray harder.
I was in the bathroom cleaning the toilet and missing my grandmother when Jimmy came in. “Why you doing that? Ain’t that what Constantina is supposed to do?”
“Isn’t that what Constantina is supposed to do,” I corrected him. I wanted to distract him from what I was doing. I didn’t want him to think anything was wrong between me and G. He was doing so good in school and taking his medicine without me telling him to. I couldn’t risk him backsliding and falling back into his old ways.
“I’m just helping Constantina out,” I lied. “You know I can clean a bathroom just as good as anyone else. Grandmother made sure of that.”
Jimmy looked like he believed me.
“I’m getting me a job, Juice,” he said. “G said since I’m almost eighteen I can come work down at the Spot.”
I stood up so fast I dropped the rag in the toilet. Hell no. I didn’t want my baby brother down there. I didn’t care what G said. Jimmy was supposed to go to college and be smart. Not hang around playas and drugs and naked women every night.
“Jimmy, you should just concentrate on school. There is nothing at the G-Spot for you. Plus you don’t need to be all up in that environment. That’s why G keeps his own son out of there.”
“That’s how much you know. Gino is about to graduate from college and G said he’s coming back to Harlem and I’m gonna be working for him.”
I turned away because I didn’t want my brother to see the worry in my eyes. I didn’t know what G was planning, but Jimmy didn’t need to be involved in any of it. I didn’t say anything else though because Jimmy had a big mouth and could blab it off, too. Sometimes he took G’s side against me but I knew that was because he had never had a father until G came along.
“We’ll see,” I told him. “College is gonna be here before you know it.”
“I ain’t going to no college, Juicy. I ain’t trying to be educated like you are. I can make more than enough money by just doing whatever G tells me to do. Hanging with G, I can be set for life.”
I got the rag out the toilet and finished cleaning the bathroom. I didn’t like the way Jimmy was talking and I wondered what else G had been pumping into my little brother’s head. I made sure every bathroom in the house was spotless. I even cleaned the kitchen. Then I went in our bedroom and got on my knees and rubbed glass cleaner on all the mirrors on the floor. I changed the sheets and took a bath.
I was sleeping when G came home and got in the bed.
“What’s that faggot’s name?”
He was right in my ear and I woke up in a hurry.
“Huh?”
“You heard me. What was that faggot’s name who had his hands on you.”
“Vincent.”
G grunted then rolled me over on my stomach and got on top of me. This was something he had never done before. I had always wanted to try it doggy style but after my first night with G I knew he only liked it if I was on my back and he was on top.
I wanted to make up for earlier. I moved my ass real slow so he didn’t think I was taking over, but enough to try and turn him on. I felt his big dick pressing behind me. G yanked at my panties and ripped one side of them off. A strange feeling went through me. I wanted him to do the same thing to my bra. His hands were rough on me and I liked it. He pushed one of my knees up and yanked me back until my ass was in the air. I was getting excited and felt myself throbbing and wet.
G hauled off and slapped me on my ass and my pussy quivered. Yes, yes, yes, it was saying. He slapped my ass again. Harder. Then he slapped the other side. My ass was burning but my pussy was begging him to keep the fire going. I bit into the pillow and whimpered as I pushed my ass out for more.
“You like this shit, huh?”
I nodded as he whipped me. I felt his dick on me. He pushed it against my wet pussy but didn’t go all the way inside. He dipped it in just a little bit until the head was wet, and then without warning he rammed it straight up my ass.
I screamed holy hell. I tried to throw him off of me but he was all muscle weight. He held me down and ass-fucked me until I thought I would die. All the while he was dicking me he was whispering that I better not never let another man put his hands on me, faggot or not. I felt his balls slapping against my pussy but it was completely dry. I cried into the pillow and begged him to stop. For the first time G didn’t come in thirty seconds. He went at it until I couldn’t scream anymore. I thought I was dying. My voice went hoarse and I was exhausted from fighting against him. When he finally did come I was crying loud like a baby.
“Sssh. You all right, girl,” he said. He put his arms around me and smoothed my hair. I felt G’s hands stroking my back and even though my asshole was on fire I was grateful for his touch. “Don’t make me do you like this, Juicy. You mine, girl. Don’t make me hurt you this way.”
He even got up and got a warm towel and cleaned me up. I fell asleep crying but loving the feel of his hands caring for me. The next morning my ass was still bleeding. I went to my guidance counselor at school and got my major changed from dance to business.