Dammit 2

"Dammit!" I curse softly to myself. Could this get any worse? Really could it? My eyes scan over and over this stranger's patio. First I go to the wrong damn apartment to pick up my friend. I mean, this is where my GPS lead me to, how was I supposed to know it was further down the road? Then on the way back to my car, by some weird and freak accident I dropped my keys and kicked them at the same time. That would happen today. Of all days, it would happen today.

I watched helplessly as my keys were kicked into the vegetation hideaway of whoever lives at this apartment. Come on, who the hell has like a 100 different plants on their porch? These are ghetto ass apartments, nothing more. Probably here to hide illegal activities. Standing on the sidewalk I try to see if I can spot my keys from a distance. No way in hell I can spot shit.

I really don't want to walk on this person's porch. I mean it would look weird and they might think I am a burglar or something. That's the last thing I need today. But I can't leave without my keys. I can't even call for help because I left my freaking cell in the locked car! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!

Screw it, I need my keys. I timidly walk on the stranger's porch. Maybe I should knock first, tell them the situation. Yeah right. First this is not the best apartments. Well probably the best to get drugs or a cheap whore, 2 things that I don't really have a taste for. Even if they were not, they would probably call the cops thinking I'm a weirdo wanting to steal their plants. Damn it. I'll just do this fast and get the hell out of here.

Moving fully on this porch I pass by the front door. Please don't come out and find me like this. I scan again but don't see my keys anywhere. Trying to do this fast, I place my foot in between 2 plants and lean over searching for my keys. Scanning and brushing vegetation to the side I try desperately to find my keys. I know it fell over here, I heard it and kinda saw it. I still don't see them. Damn it!

I move my other foot between 2 other potted plants, becoming completely surrounded by this person's plants. Brushing more and more vegetation from my face so I can search, I still don't see my damn keys. I lean over more to try and find them. Hurry up! Find them.

My heart stops beating for a second as I hear a door rushed to be open. Of course, it would happen. The door to the ghetto garden only a few feet behind me swings open. And here I stand, looking like a complete idiot, deep inside the person's make-shift garden. Damn it. Could this day get any worse.

"What the heellllll you think you doing?" I hear a voice filled with attitude call out. I can't even see the owner but have a strong feeling she is black or Latina. I look behind me, "Oh. Look, this looks weird but-" Then I turn to see her face. Her face is very upset. It quickly lights up as if she has seen me or knows something about me.

"So you back huh mothafucka?!" she yells in a truly ghetto sounding voice. She yells so loud I am sure every neighbor will be looking. Then again this looks like a place where you mind your own business. Wait, what? Back? "I'm sorry, but I was trying to find my keys, I've never been-" I try to explain, but the way she looks at me, she doesn't understand English.

"Fuck that mothafucka! Tell it to da fucking po-pos!" She says, her head bobbing. Po-pos? COPS?! "Wait a sec." I say my hands in the air to show I mean no harm. The cops can't come. Even by some miracle I talk myself out of this, there is no way they will not run my license. When they do, they will see the hundreds, if not thousands in unpaid traffic tickets.

"Wait, wait!" panic sounding in my voice. "Let me explain." I say, trying hard to get out of the garden. I move in front of her, but she already has her cell out, dialing a number. "Please!" I downright beg. "Let me explain!" I beg harder. She stares at me with hate in those brown eyes. Never before have I felt so helpless. So helpless to some ghetto drug using whore.

"Yeah right, no body steals from me!" She says and walks inside her apartment. "Look please, I'll do anything, just let me explain!" I beg leaning into her apartment. I'm giving her space, I don't want to rush in, that would make me look even worse. What can I do? I am so helpless. I am truly helpless. I can't get in my car and leave, because my keys are gone. I can't use my cell because it is inside the locked car. I can't escape because this ghetto ass apartment complex has a locked gate that only opens to a car's pressure on the road. What do I do?! I can either sit and wait for the cops to some, or convince her not to call them.

"Please, I'll do anything! Just let me explain." I beg in fear. The girl looks at me with a raised eyebrow. She stays staring at me, as if trying to think of something. The broken gears in the bitch's mind are turning. Please...please. Don't let her call the cops.

"Pull down your pants." She says out of the blue with an attitude. "WHAT?!" I exclaim in shock. Did she just say for me to pull down my pants? "WHY?" I exclaim again, completely shocked. She can't mean what I think she means. Her serious face tells me different.

"Pull down your mothafuckin pants! If you want to explain, that's what you gots to do!" She says serious and firm, but lowering her cell a bit. She stares at me. My mouth is open from the shock. "Why?" I ask again not understanding at all.

"Cause you ain't gonna run off if you ain't got no pants. You be easy to spot mothafucka." She states with attitude, her head bobbing. For a second I am even more shocked, not by the request but that it is a smart thought. That would prevent most from running off. With no pants you are not as likely to run off. Plus people will spot you easier.

Do I really want to pull down my pants? No, I don't. I mean, I don't know her! She could claim I exposed myself or something. Plus I am outside! It would be so damn humiliating. Plus anyone could see. Oh God, do I really have to? Either that or jail. I'm not going to assault her. She or a friend of hers may shot me or something.

My hands, almost shaking move down to my belt. For a spilt second I think I see the corner of her mouth move into a smile. I pull on my belt, letting it loosen my pants. I take a very deep breath as I loosen my pants. Am I really going to do this? I feel my pants very loose, then I let go of the belt and pants. My pants instantly fall down to my ankles, revealing my blue boxers to this ghetto bitch.

I stand up straight, trying to keep my dignity. I stand with my underwear showing on her porch. My heart beats hard in shame and fear. "May I explain now?" I say calmly in a much softer voice than before. I stand in front of her, looking at me as if I am an object. She keeps that serious look on her face and takes a step back.

"Come on, get yo white ass in." She says and motions inside. A part of me rejoices. She isn't calling the cops. It stopped her. I bend down to pick up my pants, but I hear her clear her throat. Looking up towards her, she shakes her head 'no.' Then shakes her finger at me. Great, she doesn't want me to pull them up. Figures. Great. How do I walk? I begin to walk, taking a very small step. Then another, moving my foot as far as I can with my pants blocking me. God this is humiliating, walking with my pants at my ankles. I move so slow, and I know inside the bitch is laughing at me. I take dozens of small steps, then hop up onto her apartment.

I manage to walk inside her apartment. Taking dozens of steps I head towards the coffee table. Like I figured, its ghetto as hell. My eyes adjust to the dimmer light. Old ugly couch, beat up coffee table, small TV, trash everywhere, everything dirty. Great. Picture perfect of ghetto. Awesome. Lord knows what's going to happen now. I'm surprised no needles or joints.

"Stop right there, start talking mofucka." She commands in her attitude charged voice on I am by the coffee table. I slowly start to turn around to look at her. Taking a deep breath I start, "Ok, thank you...I thought this was the complex of a friend. I went to the wrong apartment and when I found out it wasn't, I was returning to my car. On accident I dropped my keys and accidently kicked into your porch." I state as fast and plain as I can. "That's it. This is my first time here. I've never stolen anything from you, I swear." I state, knowing the explanation sounds crazy.

She puts her hands on her hips, overflowing with attitude. "You want me to believe dat? You think I'm stupid?!" She exclaims upset. I refrain from answering my true response. Well there are other words for stupid I would use for her.

"Give me yo pants." She orders, and motions with her hand. What?! "Come on, you have to believe me!" I say trying hard not to freak out. Pulling them down was humiliating, but giving them over is worse! She points down at my pants, and the look on her face doesn't show compromise. She may not even understand the meaning of the word, literally. Do I give them over? She will surely call 911 before I could reach her with my pants down. Damn it.

I kick out of my shoes, and my sock accidentally come off. Then I lift my leg, stepping out of my pants, scared and hating this. What makes it even move humiliating is that I see my manhood move within my boxers. Then I step my other foot out, completely out of my pants. Then I kick the pants over to her. She quickly reaches down and picks them up. My pants...such a personal thing in this ghetto whore's hands.

"Turn the fuck around." She says or rather orders. Her face is still upset. "Why?" I ask, scared she might hit me, or worse, try to kill me from behind. "Just turn round, or I call po-po." She says, and makes a twirling motion with her finger while holding my pants. Her other hand holds the cell and her finger is ready to dial. I try to think of something to do, but I can't. Why do I need to turn around?

Humiliated I turn back around and look at her dirty wall. Dirty wall that has smoke stains, dirt and more. Outside I hear something slam. Looking back I see she is no longer in the room but the front door is still open. Where she go? What is she doing? Then I see her shadow on her porch. She is doing something out there. Does she have a storage room out there? Where is she taking my pants?! Then I get a bad thought. She is locking my pants in the room, I have no idea where the key for the room is. DAMN IT.

She returns though her front door. "Look straight bitch!" She yells upset, louder than normal. I quickly turn and look forward at the wall. "Look, this isn't necessary." I inform her, holding my hands together. "I'm not going to hurt, or anything." I add.

"Shut up! Oh it's needed. I don't mothafuckas that steal from me!" She yells, anger in her voice. "I didn't take anything!" I shout back, becoming very upset, raising my hands up. "Mothafucka, yell again and see what happens!" She yells in almost a growl. Standing looking at the wall without my pants, there is nothing much I can do. If she calls the cops, she could easily say I tried to rape her. And I would go to jail for the tickets to boot.

Think! What does she want? Money! "Look, in my pants, I have money. You can take it, all of it. Just let me get my keys and go." I say in an excited yet much calmer voice. She would like money. "How much?" She instantly says, very interested. I knew that would work. Ghetto people live for money. I hate to give MY money to her, but its needed. Not wanting to admit it, but I know she will find it anyway. "$200." I say honestly. She doesn't say anything for a moment.

"Well white bread, the shit you stole was worth more than that!" She says angry. Damn it! How do I convince her I didn't steal anything! What would she have that I want?

"Well I don't have anything else." I say honestly. I don't even have my car since I don't have the keys. I have nothing else to offer her. All I have, literally are the clothes on my back. "All I have are my clothes, and you already took my pants." I say accusingly, letting her know I am displeased. All I have is my cheap old t-shirt and boxers.

"I'll take them." She says in a flat odd tone. Wait, what? Did she just say that? Turning around slowly, in disbelief I respond with "What?" She can't mean that. I don't know what she is planning, but this is the end of it. I am not giving her my clothes.

Without hesitation, she brings her cell up to her face. "I warned you bout turning around." She states and its clear the phone is dialing. Shit! She dialed the cops! I spin around fast, "Ok! Ok!" I say, doing as she wants. Out of reaction I place my hands up in the air to show I am doing as I am told. Ok, look, I have 2 choices. One...the cops, humiliation of jail, OR whatever this ghetto whore is planning and the humiliation of her. I don't know her, hell she might kill me! As much as I want to believe that, I don't Something about her doesn't strike me as murderer. That doesn't mean she isn't a crazy bitch.

I wait, hoping she stopped the call. I stare at the dirty wall, praying she won't go through with it. "Well white-bread. I wants dat shirt." She says, with enjoyment in her voice. She is enjoying this, it obvious in her voice. The bitch is really loving this. Is she really going to strip me naked?

With a shaking hand, I grab the bottom of my shirt. Slowly I lift my shirt up and over my head. I'm about to be half naked. Once I pull it off, I hold my shirt in my hands as I feel the air on my bare chest. I have no flat abs or muscle chest, but I am in shape. And this whore is going to see it. Why is she doing this? Doesn't she have some black guy to look at?

"Good white-bread, very good. Now, turn around and throw it to me." She orders, sounding happy. I turn around very slow, with small steps. Turning around I see her smiling face. That ghetto whore has a pleasurable smile on her face. A wide smile on those big lips of her, and her eyes look me up and down. Just like an object. I toss my t-shirt to her.

A new horror hits me. My...little man... begins to tingle. NO! NOT NOW! I didn't notice this before, but the ghetto whore is...sexy in an odd way. Her body looks...earthly. She is a tad over weight, but it looks good. Her breasts look fat...overweight. Her skin looks smooth and soft to the touch. NO! Don't think about it.

"You know, I've never seen white-bread before." She says and looks me up and down slowly. In horror I feel a tent start in my boxers. No...no...no. I stand like this, having to let her look at me for a while. I gulp and wait.

"Well what the fuck you waiting for! Pull them down! Let me see that white cock." She crudely states. Perverted bitch. My hands move to my waistband of my boxers. If you do this...she owns you. You will be naked, completely naked. Closing my eyes I jerk them down. I feel air on every part of my body, especially my manhood. I am so humiliated.

Naked in front of her I refuse to open my eyes. "So that's white cock." She perversely says. "Smaller than what I am used too." She adds, adding to my humiliation. "Open dem eyes." She orders. With a deep breath I open them, and see her staring at me with a giant smile. "Underwear." She says motioning with her hand.

Bending down, seeing my manhood at attention I grab my boxers. I see my naked self in the midst of a dirty ghetto apartment. Once I have my boxers then toss them to her. "Go head and turn round. I wanna see white-bread ass." She says with a wide smile. Humiliated I don't argue. I turn around and look at the dirty wall, letting her see my bare ass.

She doesn't say anything. After a minute I hear the same slam as before. Great. She locked all of my clothes away somewhere in that storage. They might as well be a million miles away. I'm helpless. Even if I got away, she could say this is some sort of sex game. Worse, what if someone here saw me like this?

I hear her reenter the room and then hear her close the front door. Not just close it, but lock it. I just stand like a statue, a naked statue. My backside is exposed and on display just for her. My bare ass, which only a few has ever seen, showing.

"Cute little butt of yours, so cute, so little." She says, I guess mocking me. I hear her footsteps close in as she walks up to me. I don't move, I just wait. I can feel her only inches away, behind me. I can even feel her warm breath on my back. She surprises me by putting her hand on my right shoulder, gripping my shoulder lightly. Her skin is so soft and so warm on my naked body. She runs her hand slowly down my arm, which is at my side. Her hand runs down, very slowly, ever getting closer to my manhood. Her fingertips tease me, and then she stops at my wrist, and gently grabs it. What is she doing?

She pulls my wrist back, behind my back, and presses it there, as if saying 'keep it here'. What is she doing? She releases my wrist, and I keep it there, doing as I think she wants. God this is horrible, having to let her touch me. This strange, disease infested whore is touching me. I feel her hand on my left shoulder and I almost shudder from it. Similar to the other, she runs her hand down slowly to my wrist and pulls it behind my back as well. Both hands are behind me. She isn't...she isn't going to handcuff me...is she?

I feel something wrapping around my right wrist. It's cloth, like lace, and elastic. She wraps it over and over on my wrist. "W-what are you doing?" I ask wanting so bad to look behind me. She stops wrapping whatever it is around my right wrist, but then starts wrapping it around my left wrist, pressing them together. My wrists are touching each other now, she being bound. She is. She is tying my hands behind me. Helpless. I'm more than helpless. I'm helpless to her.

"Just using one of my dirty bras to make sure you don't try nothing." She starts in a happy voice. Directly after she pulls on the bra, tightening my wrists. I want to groan so bad from the pain, but it is best not to make her upset. Just let her do whatever she wants. She finishes wrapping my wrist, binding me firmly. Then she lets go, and leaves my hands behind me. Damn it.

I gently pull both arms to test them, but just as I guessed...I can't move them. I don't think if I pulled with all my strength I could break this grip. A sicken though runs over me now. A dirty bra? Her dirty bra? Oh man.

"I've never had a white-bread before. Your skin is so...light." She says touching my back with both hands. She holds her palms out on my back. Then she begins to move them around my back, feeling me slowly. "It's smooth." She adds. Then she removes her hands from me.

"Yet I've had tons of dem look down on me at stores and da bus." She states, her voice becoming upset. I gulp in fear. Oh please, don't let her take out some white-man hatred on me. Should I say something? No. Whatever I say would just piss her off. Best to keep my mouth shut.

I jerk as she open hand grabs my right butt cheek, hard. "Such a cute perky ass, white-bread." She states grabbing it hard. It almost hurts she grabs it so hard. Her other hand moves down and roughly grabs the other cheek. She holds my cheeks hard, then releases them. Her hands then rub over my butt, which against my wishes makes my manhood stand even more at attention. Her smooth skin rubs over mine in very large circles. She rubs and rubs making me more aroused.

Then she pinches me on both cheeks. Out of reaction I jerk forward from the pinch, which only makes her laugh. She is laughing at me. At my little white butt. "I just love that cute little white butt of yours." She says and then gives it a light smack. Her open hand slaps my right cheek and a small echo sounds around the room. "I mean, there is so much I want to do..." She exclaims and gives it another smack. Damn it! My manhood basically throbs from her smack. I can't be enjoying this, I can't. I can't be enjoying her smacking me.