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“Violet…” Pike said, trying to remember who she was. “The cute black chick?”
“Yes,” I agreed. “The cute black chick.”
“And?”
“And what? You don’t think that’s weird that Gwenneth and Roscoe are new here and just went through all that shit at their old community and she’s already diking it out with one of our women?”
“Seemed innocent enough a minute ago. Still kinda does.”
Pike smirked and I wanted to slap him. He wasn’t getting it. How could he not get it?
“They’re fucking weird, Pike,” I said.
“Because the chick likes dick and pussy?” Pike asked. “And her fellow likes two pussies at the same time? Hell, that’s a good percentage of what’s left of the world, babe. Hate to tell you, but beyond these walls, dudes are doing dudes and chicks are screwing chicks all the time. Shit, it happens here in the Dove too. You think some of these other women aren’t munching a little carpet.”
“You’re a Neanderthal,” I said.
“Me?” he asked. “I’m the only one here not bothered by it.”
“Have you noticed that Dominic hasn’t left their house in four days? Four days, Pike. Everyone leaves every house within four days.”
“Maybe he’s just getting great sex and they keep him loaded up with all kinds of cake recipes to try out or something. Jess, I’ve always kind of wanted to say this but I always thought he might be a little bit…”
Pike scrunched up his mouth and looked toward the ceiling as if searching for the best words to say. When they didn’t fall from the painted popcorn above, he turned back to me and shrugged his shoulders.
“…he seems a little bit gay alright? And by little bit I mean a lot.”
“He’s not gay. I know that from experience.”
“Ohhh!”
Pike faked a gunshot to the chest and fell back onto the bed.
“Four days,” I said again. “He’s been in there for four days.”
“After seven I’ll go check into it,” Pike promised.
“After seven days he could be a rotting corpse.”
Pike laughed. “You’re so fucking paranoid!”
Pike was my only hope at getting help. I knew everyone else would think the same thing he did. That Dominic was relaxing in his new home, having sex with his new wife, hanging out with his new best buddy, and cooking meals. But they were wrong. I just knew it. Dominic was in danger and I was the only one who gave a shit. I was the only one who could help him, and I would help him.
I snuck around their house one more day, kind of a chicken shit to actually march in and do something. I mean what if I was wrong? What if I barged in there like a fucking police swat team and he was eating sushi, he’d just hand rolled, off of Gwenneth’s stomach? What if he was in there loving life? So there I sat on that porch again armed with a baseball bat. Guns weren’t all that easy to come by.
It was late in the evening, maybe 8pm, when I heard the yell. It wasn’t the typical sexual moan or the sound of someone excited to get some great news. This sounded like someone in pain, and that was all the motivation I needed.
I crossed the street quickly, hesitating for a moment before entering the house. I was afraid of what I might find on the other side. Turned out the door was locked but the window wasn’t. I slid it open gently and the house was dark. Pitch black except for the rectangular light coming through the door from the back bedroom.
I was afraid. I imagined Roscoe in the other room torturing Dominic. Maybe while Gwenneth watched. I pushed aside my fears and moved forward. I was scared but figured they’d have to be stupid to do anything to me. If I didn’t come home people would definitely ask questions.
The door opened much smoother than I expected. No squeak. No click. It swung on its hinges quietly. The light in the bedroom was dim but I could see clearly. There was no Roscoe with pliers in hand and no Gwenneth crouched down laughing. But what I saw was almost as wicked.
Dominic lay on his back, his wrists and ankles tied to the bed, leaving him naked and spread eagle on the mattress. He was asleep. Or he’d passed out. I wasn’t sure. I walked closer to him and saw what looked like dry candle wax on his chest and stomach. His cock lay limp against his thigh and it looked like dry cum was on the tip and on the sheet.
Was he being tortured? Or was he having the time of his life? And where were Gwenneth and Roscoe?
I know how horrible this must sound, but seeing Dominic in such a vulnerable position kind of turned me on. A rush of arousal and jealousy swept over me. If this was being done by choice, Dominic had left me for trying to do the same thing and had raced into Gwenneth’s family.
