Big Johnson Trucing - Flashbac 03

Flashback Three

May 1996

After Graduation

"I told you they won't understand!" Rebecca yelled. "They are, and always have been, ignorant of the kink community, and even if they were aware it would still make them extremely uncomfortable!"

"They're going to have to accept who you are and how you live your life sooner or later!!" Rig yelled back. "You might as well introduce them now so they'll have time to accept it!"

"I will tell them, Master. In time, but a collaring in lieu of marriage vows will be too much for them to handle!" she yelled again.

"YES!" he yelled louder. "I am your Master and I'm telling you you're going to do this!!"

"BLACK ROSE!!" she screamed at him.

"NO!" he roared. "You're only allowed to use the safe-word during S&M play! We agreed on that!"

Her face was almost purple with rage. Rig had never seen her this angry, much less any anger directed at him. This was their first real fight. His anger was just as vehement, though. She was his submissive. She was supposed to be doing what he told her to do. "I'm not, fucking, doing it!" she seethed and stormed off.

"Where do you think you're going!" he yelled after her. "We're not done talking about this! GET BACK HERE!"

"I'M A FUCKING SUBMISSIVE, MASTER!" she roared over her shoulder. "NOT A GODDAMNED SLAVE!!" She got in her car, slammed the door so hard it rattled the windows and sped off.

Rig just stood in his driveway. His hands were balled into fists and his body was rigid and practically vibrating in his anger. He stormed back into the house and slammed the door. "Hey!" his mother said. "No slamming doors in this house, Reggie."

"Can it, mom," Rig shot back without thinking.

"Ex-cuuussse me!?" she shrieked. "Reginald Avery Johnson you will NOT talk to me that way! I know you're angry but that's NO excuse to be disrespectful to me!"

Rig sighed and turned to face his mother. She looked just as angry as Rebecca. He walked over and hugged her. "I'm sorry, mom," he said in a choked whisper as tears started trickling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, honey," she soothed. "It really is going to be alright." She paused before continuing. "May I give you a piece of advice?"

"Please, mom," Rig said, chuckling sarcastically. "Any advice would be beneficial at this point."

She looked up at him and cupped his cheek like any adoring mother would. "Let her have her way, sweetheart," she said, smiling.

Rig scoffed slightly. "That's your advice? Let my submissive dictate what I can and can't do?"

Sue placed a placating hand on his chest. "Yes, dear," she said. "You've got to remember that she is her own person and not just a piece of property that is to be used at your convenience. She has emotions and desires, wants and fears, just like you do, and right now what she's feeling is fear."

"What would she be afraid of?" Rig asked, skeptically. "I'm her master and will take care of her. She knows that."

"She does know that, honey," she assured him. "But knowing and believing are two totally different concepts."

"Are you saying she doesn't believe that I'll be there for her?" Rig asked.

She shrugged slightly. "At the moment, no. She doesn't believe that because, well, and this is going to be hard for me to say, but, you're violating her trust."

Rig's eyes went wide. "What!?" he exclaimed. "How?"

"Sweetheart," she said, "you're trying to make her do something she doesn't want to do; something she's afraid to do. Even though it may seem trivial to you, to her it's the equivalent of running down a mountain to escape an avalanche. In her mind, what you're asking her to do is impossible."

"But-" he began but she interrupted him.

"Stop," she gently begged. "Honey, stop making excuses for yourself. You want more than anything to have your collar around her neck and I get that. I understand. But you need to remember that while you're in charge, that doesn't give you absolute authority over her. You need to remember that you are two halves of a complete whole and the only way you're going to complete each other is by sometimes letting go of something you want so that she has the room to grow into her half of the whole that completes you as well. Do you understand?"

"I think so, mom," he said. "You're talking about compromise?"

"That's a part of it," she answered. "But there's so much more to it than just that." She smiled at him. "You'll understand with time. Although, if it's any consolation, I think you both are right."

Rig quirked an eyebrow at that. "Oh? How so?"

"Think about it, honey," she lectured. "She knows her parents better than you. She knows how they would react to something so foreign, so alien to their concepts that it would shatter their fragile minds. She believes that if she agrees to be collared with them present that they'll end up alienating her out of fear and ignorance. While you, on the other hand, know that even if you collar her in secret, they're eventually going to see that she's wearing her collar all the time and start to ask questions."

"So what's the answer, mom?" he said, getting frustrated again. "How do I make this right?"

"By doing things her way, for now," his father said, coming into the room. "Because collaring her in secret, as it were, is the best course of action to ease her parents into accepting who she has chosen to be. There's an old saying my mother would frequently use in situations like this: 'You've got to move the piano an inch at a time to get the congregation to accept it's replacement.'"

"What does that even mean, dad?" Rig asked, utterly dumbfounded.

"When she attended church as a little girl," he began, "there was a new pastor that came in and wanted to move the piano to another location to make the stage more aesthetically pleasing. So, he did. The next Sunday the congregation practically crucified him for making such a drastic change without consulting anyone about it. The piano was immediately moved back to its original place. The pastor consulted a mentor of his who instructed him to move the piano an inch at a time over the course of a few months. The new pastor liked the idea and immediately put this plan into motion. Over the course of the next several months he moved the piano just slightly until, eventually, it was where he wanted it to be."

"And?" Rig asked

He dad shrugged. "The congregation was elated at how the stage looked so much better than before and praised the new pastor on the changes he was making to make their church more accepting for the community."

"Does that really work?" Rig asked, intrigued.

"Slow and steady wins the race," his mom said.

Rig took a few minutes to ponder what they had told him. "I've got to go find her," he said suddenly, heading for the door. "I've got to apologize."

"Let her cool off a bit, son," his dad said, placing a gentle hand on Rig's shoulder. "Approaching her now while she's still mad will only make it worse for the both of you."

"Yeah, you're right, dad," he agreed. "I'll just find her at the party and apologize then." He looked at his parents. He leaned down and kissed his mom on the cheek. "Thanks, mom," he said. "I love you."

"Oooh," Suzy said and pulled him into a motherly embrace. "I love you, too, sweetheart. And I'm so proud of you!"

"And thanks for the story, dad," he told his father. "I hope I remember it whenever my own kids try to do something stupid before thinking it through."

"It's funny the things you remember when trying to help your kids learn important life lessons," his dad said. "I'm sure it'll come to you when the time is right. Hell, I only just remembered it myself!" He laughed.

A few hours later, Rig arrived at the Latham's house for the graduation party. The party was already in full swing so he greeted his friends and went for a beer. He knew Rebecca was here because he saw her car out front. He mingled for a while as he searched for her but still didn't find her. He didn't even think to look upstairs because he knew she wasn't up there. That's where all the hookups were taking place. His apprehension grew when he looked all around and didn't find her. Did she leave with one of her friends? She must have.

He suddenly spotted one of the Latham twins wobbling drunkenly for the kitchen. He cornered her and she grinned wickedly at him. "Looking for a," she burped loudly in his face, "good time, Joshnan?" she slurred. "I heard you got a purty gib, gib, um," she blinked for a second trying to get the word right.

"Big?" Rig helped her along.

Her eyes lit up. "Yes!! Big!" She giggled. "I heard you got a purty BIG joshnon." She winked conspiratorially. "Wanna see if it fucks, fits in myyyy pushy??" she asked, swaying on her feet and almost falling over.

Rig would have chuckled if he hadn't been so worried. "Thanks for the offer, but, no thanks. Have you seen Rebecca?" he asked. She giggled and pointed upstairs. She suddenly frowned when Rig's face went dark red in anger. "Which room?" he asked menacingly.

She backed further into the wall as she swayed. "M-m-aster bed-" She didn't even get to finish before he stormed up the stairs taking them two at a time. He threw the door open and it slammed against the wall.

Lance was pumping in and out someone on the bed. His head spun around and then his face went white when he saw his friend. He jumped off the bed and tried to act jovially. "Hey, Rig, uh, listen, um," he trialed off as Rig only had eyes for the girl on the bed with her legs spread straight out to the sides.

Rebecca slowly blinked a few times as she swayed drunkenly while sitting up. "Masssster," she slurred, "why did you stoooopppp?" she asked before looking at Rig. Her eyes were half-lidded as she took him in. "Howww did you get drrrressed so fast?" she asked as she looked around. Noticing Lance's naked form off to the side of the bed, it seemed to click what had happened. "No," she whispered. She looked up at Rig with a panicked expression but his back was already turned and he was walking away. "No," she said again as she wobbled trying to get off of the bed. "Wait. Master, wait," she pleaded but he was already gone.

Rig was shell-shocked. He had watched as Rebecca tried to sit up. He had listened as she slurred her words. She was drunk off of her ass and she was fucking Lance. She thought she was making love to Rig but she was fucking Lance. Tears started streaming down his face as his whole body tensed. He had looked at Lance and he fumed. His knuckles went white when he balled his fists as he cried. He had had to get out of there. He had had to leave before he killed them both. He had turned, and without a backward glance, walked out. He walked stiffly down the stairs and out of the house. He got into his truck and as he went to start it up, realized he still had his beer in his hand. He released it out the window, cup and all, started his truck, and drove away.

He drove all night, stopping only to get gas. When the sun came up, he realized he was in Wichita, Kansas. He stopped at a truck stop to get something to eat and use the restroom. He ate mechanically; take a bite, chew, swallow, repeat. He thought about where he was and what had just happened. His anger was long gone and the only thing left was gut-wrenching betrayal and grief.

He had left everything behind. All he had was his pickup and the clothes on his back. He looked over at his cell phone on the seat next to him. It had buzzed almost non-stop all night long. He flipped it open and, ignoring the hundreds of messages from Rebecca and the few from Lance, typed out a quick message to his dad.

[In Wichita, Kansas. Not sure I'm coming back home. Please don't worry. I'll call soon. I love you both. Throwing away the phone. Junior]

His dad would understand. The only time Rig had ever referred to himself as Junior was when something tragic had happened to him.

He sat in his truck in the parking lot of the truck stop for hours just thinking. Finally deciding on a course of action, he drove around the city until he found the armed forces recruiting station. They were already closed, so he just slept in his truck that night in the parking lot. The next morning he awoke to a light tapping on his driver's side window. It happened to be the army recruiter. Rig smiled weakly, gave him the thumbs up and sat up in the seat. The recruiter nodded and walked into the building.

Rig wiped the sleep from his eyes, stepped out of his truck, straightened his clothes as best he could, and walked up to the door of the army recruiter's office. With no hesitation whatsoever, he opened the door and walked in.