‘Wanna hit?’ he asked, wedging a rock into the end of the pipe.
Shandy made it to the sofa and was trying her best to get upright. In one stroke, Dread I shoved her over onto her side.
When her eyes locked onto what was in his hand, she began to shake her head vehemently. ‘No… no… no…’ she repeated endlessly, speaking for the first time in ages.
Dread I ignored her pleas and squatted down beside her. He put the pipe up to her face. ‘Put it in your mouth,’ he ordered.
She shook her head, her lips pursed tightly like a child being force fed Brussels sprouts.
‘Put it in!’ Dread I snapped. He grabbed her cheeks with his free hand and squeezed hard. Her lips popped open. He shoved the pipe in her mouth. It clanged against her teeth, but he forced it in regardless. He then pulled out a lighter from his pocket and sparked it up. Shandy watched the flame with terrified eyes as it arced across the air and met with the rock stuck in the pipe. A recognisable crackling sound soon filled the air, swiftly followed by that horribly familiar melting-plastic-like stench. The pipe was quickly consumed with thick white smoke.
‘Tek a lick,’ Dread I ordered. ‘Tek a lick,’ he repeated.
Shandy refused and managed to spit out the pipe from her mouth.
Dread I recoiled, but was soon back in her face. ‘Tek a fockin’ lick or I’ll
beat
ya and
rape
ya!’ he threatened.
He shoved the pipe in Shandy’s mouth again. She groaned, her eyes brimful with fear. Dread I could taste her terror; it was like milk ’n honey. He watched her lips tremble like leaves on a light wind with intense pleasure. A low murmur escaped from behind them. Dread I smiled, his gold tooth twinkling against the sunlight shining through the window.
‘Dere. Ya remember that feeling, Shandy, huh? Now tek a lick so ya can remember every
ting
I have to give you.’ He relit his lighter and held the flame next to the rock. It began to burn and sizzle again.
Shandy closed her eyes, tears squeezing out from between the lids and streaming down her cheeks. Against her will, she finally took a drag from the pipe. Dread I began nodding his head, liking what he was seeing—the way she was sucking on his pipe even though she didn’t want to. It reminded him of how eager she used to be for a hit just a few months before. She’d
beg
for it.
Do any
lickle
ting for it.
Sometimes she had no money to give. But she would beg.
Dread I would just laugh pitifully at her and say—‘
Ya know da rule dem, Shandy. Ya don’t have the cash, ya gotta suck for ya rock.
’
Dread I loved to humiliate, loved to violate. To feel like he owned ’em, like he owned their souls.
Nah, fock dat, he
did
own ’em, he
did
have their souls in his hands, and nuthin’ gonna change dat.
This bitch couldn’t run, she couldn’t escape, her soul was trapped in the fabric of his empire, and he was gonna make sure she understood that.
Shandy began coughing and choking out smoke from her lungs. She looked up at Dread I with groggy eyes that were swiftly glazing over, the terrific instantaneous hit of crack doing its thing.
She stared at Dread I for a while as if to say ‘
I’ve done what you want. Now leave me alone.
’
But Dread I shook his head in reply. ‘Nah, nah, Shandy,’ he said. ‘You smoke more. Come on. Lick it. I wanna see you smoke the whole ting.’
Shandy groaned. Dread I shoved the pipe back in between her lips again. He lit it up and she smoked more. This time, she took a bigger hit and she retched, spittle flying out of her mouth.
Dread I laughed. ‘Good. Good, Shandy. You smoke it up, and remember you belong to
me
. Ya hear?’
Shandy was now swaying from side to side in woozy arcs, her eyes rolling up into her head. She was beginning to buzz hard. Dread I shoved the pipe in her face for one more hit, and this time she took it willingly, sucking on it long and deep. After a big toke, Dread I grabbed her by the chin and tilted her head upwards.
Shandy made it to the sofa and was trying her best to get upright. In one stroke, Dread I shoved her over onto her side.
When her eyes locked onto what was in his hand, she began to shake her head vehemently. ‘No… no… no…’ she repeated endlessly, speaking for the first time in ages.
Dread I ignored her pleas and squatted down beside her. He put the pipe up to her face. ‘Put it in your mouth,’ he ordered.
She shook her head, her lips pursed tightly like a child being force fed Brussels sprouts.
‘Put it in!’ Dread I snapped. He grabbed her cheeks with his free hand and squeezed hard. Her lips popped open. He shoved the pipe in her mouth. It clanged against her teeth, but he forced it in regardless. He then pulled out a lighter from his pocket and sparked it up. Shandy watched the flame with terrified eyes as it arced across the air and met with the rock stuck in the pipe. A recognisable crackling sound soon filled the air, swiftly followed by that horribly familiar melting-plastic-like stench. The pipe was quickly consumed with thick white smoke.
‘Tek a lick,’ Dread I ordered. ‘Tek a lick,’ he repeated.
Shandy refused and managed to spit out the pipe from her mouth.
Dread I recoiled, but was soon back in her face. ‘Tek a fockin’ lick or I’ll
beat
ya and
rape
ya!’ he threatened.
He shoved the pipe in Shandy’s mouth again. She groaned, her eyes brimful with fear. Dread I could taste her terror; it was like milk ’n honey. He watched her lips tremble like leaves on a light wind with intense pleasure. A low murmur escaped from behind them. Dread I smiled, his gold tooth twinkling against the sunlight shining through the window.
‘Dere. Ya remember that feeling, Shandy, huh? Now tek a lick so ya can remember every
ting
I have to give you.’ He relit his lighter and held the flame next to the rock. It began to burn and sizzle again.
Shandy closed her eyes, tears squeezing out from between the lids and streaming down her cheeks. Against her will, she finally took a drag from the pipe. Dread I began nodding his head, liking what he was seeing—the way she was sucking on his pipe even though she didn’t want to. It reminded him of how eager she used to be for a hit just a few months before. She’d
beg
for it.
Do any
lickle
ting for it.
Sometimes she had no money to give. But she would beg.
Dread I would just laugh pitifully at her and say—‘
Ya know da rule dem, Shandy. Ya don’t have the cash, ya gotta suck for ya rock.
’
Dread I loved to humiliate, loved to violate. To feel like he owned ’em, like he owned their souls.
Nah, fock dat, he
did
own ’em, he
did
have their souls in his hands, and nuthin’ gonna change dat.
This bitch couldn’t run, she couldn’t escape, her soul was trapped in the fabric of his empire, and he was gonna make sure she understood that.
Shandy began coughing and choking out smoke from her lungs. She looked up at Dread I with groggy eyes that were swiftly glazing over, the terrific instantaneous hit of crack doing its thing.
She stared at Dread I for a while as if to say ‘
I’ve done what you want. Now leave me alone.
’
But Dread I shook his head in reply. ‘Nah, nah, Shandy,’ he said. ‘You smoke more. Come on. Lick it. I wanna see you smoke the whole ting.’
Shandy groaned. Dread I shoved the pipe back in between her lips again. He lit it up and she smoked more. This time, she took a bigger hit and she retched, spittle flying out of her mouth.
Dread I laughed. ‘Good. Good, Shandy. You smoke it up, and remember you belong to
me
. Ya hear?’
Shandy was now swaying from side to side in woozy arcs, her eyes rolling up into her head. She was beginning to buzz hard. Dread I shoved the pipe in her face for one more hit, and this time she took it willingly, sucking on it long and deep. After a big toke, Dread I grabbed her by the chin and tilted her head upwards.
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