Last week on Breakfast In bed..
Anthony kicked the iphone out of her hand, aimed his gun at her & pulled the trigger, shooting out the lamp.
“The next one is going in your skull,” Anthony warned India’s post-op, transgender brother. “Now tell me, why Does India want me to kill you?”
“Because,” India’s brother responded, staring Anthony deep in his eyes, “I raped her.”
Anthony ejected the magazine from his Beretta, took apart his gun by hand in one, single, five-second motion & listened attentively as all the separate parts dropped quietly onto the bed. He could hear India’s brother’s heart beating fast, like a Timberland produced track. He wanted nothing more than to rip the coward’s heart out of his chest & feed it to him. He had every intention to kill him.
As a Navy SEAL & member of special operations, he’d killed dozens of targets with no second thought. When you’re following the orders of Lead, killing is like exhaling, second nature. But if he was going to take a civilian’s life, he wanted a full picture painted as to why he was doing it. What damage snatching that life would salvage.
Suddenly, the cries of a young India echoed in surround sound throughout Anthony’s mind. He bawled up his fist & punched India’s brother in the mouth.
Breakfast in Bed: Episode 5 (a weekly-web series)
By: Ebrahim Aseem
Author of the book, “Why Men Cheat on Loyal Women”
“Where is Austin? Rosaria asked her twin, as her eyes opened wider than a prostitute’s legs, “and how did you find him?”
“I didn’t have to,” India replied, “bae found him.”
“So, what’s the deal with Anthony anyway, is he a serial killer ninja or something?” Rosaria asked.
“No,” India replied, “he just loves me. And I love you. I don’t need you to fight my battles anymore. You don’t owe me anything.”
“I owe you everything,” Rosaria disagreed affectionately. “You saved me from that monster. No one believed me. No one wanted to believe their precious and gifted Austin could do such a thing. I was powerless, I was voiceless, until you saved me from him.
“As hard is it may be for you to talk with a busted lip right now,” Anthony demanded, punching Austin in the mouth again for good measure, “you’re going to tell me what possessed you to rape your own sister.”
“Kill me,” Austin whispered, wearing an amused look on his face.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Anthony replied, reaching inside his pants pocket & pulling out his pliers. “But, death can’t save you from me.”
Anthony wrapped the pliers around Austin’s right middle finger.
“Did you use this hand to touch her?” Anthony asked, staring his victim in the eyes.
“Kill me,” Austin pleaded, with pain & fear in his eyes. His breath reeked off weed and black & mild.
“No, no, no, no no,” Anthony responded hysterically, “I’m going to have so much fun with you before the moment your last breath escapes your twisted body.”
Anthony squoze the pliers with all his might, twisted, then pulled them.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Austin hollered in pain.
“I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done for me,” India told her sister with tears in her eyes, “all I ever had was you. Without you, I wouldn’t be the woman I am. But, I am not your baby anymore. I’m a grown woman who has found her help meet.”
“Wow,” Rosaria replied with a huge smile, “your new bae really got you sprung off the first date? Are you sure he didn’t dickmatize you.”
“Not at all,” India answered with a laugh. “I saw the print in his slacks, but I didn’t touch. My celibacy game is too on point. But he didn’t have to touch my body, Ria. This man made love to my mind the whole night with his deep conversation. He’s such a gentlemen, with just the right amount of thug.”
Anthony ripped Austin’s right middle finger off with his pliers, stuffed the weed on that was on the dresser in Austin’s detached finger & lit the finger on fire with the match.
“Here, hit the blunt,” Anthony instructed, shoving Austin’s own detached finger/spliff in his mouth, nail first.
After fighting it off, Austin pressed both lips against his french tipped nail & inhaled the weed from his detached finger, before coughing.
“That’s that loud,” Anthony joked, “you have to hit it & breath through your nose at the same damn time. Now, I’m going to make you a deal. You tell me exactly what possessed you to rape your sister & I won’t cut every hanging part of your body off, one by one & feed it to you. Do we have a deal?”
“Deal,” Austin agreed begrudgingly, in a short breath.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you,” Anthony joked, poking Austin with the pliers in the hole where his middle finger used to be, “I’m gonna need you to hit the finger-blunt again to confirm the deal.
With fear in his eyes, Austin inhaled another hit of the weed inside his detached finger.
“Oh shit, he really hit it,” Anthony joked, “aye, you’re smoking your own finger son. Blow a kush cloud for me one time. Naaaah, you’ve had enough.”
“I wasn’t always like this,” Austin admitted, starting his flashback story. “Jealousy made like this, but not my own. Our parents were hard-working Americans. They built a real estate firm from the ground up by investing their own money & hardworking energy. My father graduated from Stanford University summa cum laude.. He met our mother there when they were both undergrads. They got married during their Junior year.
Once our father got accepted into the graduate’s program, they made a deal that my mother would work & earn money for the family, until he got his master’s. After which, he’d work while she pursued her master’s in law.
Well, that deal never came to fruition. After my father got his master’s, he wanted a son. So, instead of pursuing her career as the next great legal mind, my mother put her dreams on the back burner & had me.
For five years, my mother helped manage the finances for my father’s business, as she played the house wife to his tycoon. Once I got into kindergarten, she was supposed to finally attend graduate’s school. But, for some reason, she got pregnant again, this time with India & Rosaria.
Even though both my twin sisters were alike in every way, my mother always envied Rosaria. It was obvious too, to me anyway. She’d always tell her, ‘you think you’re cute,’ to which India would respond in her twin’s defense, ‘she knows she’s cute momma. She came from you after all.’
I think Rosaria was even supposed to be skipped up a grade a couple of times, thanks to her teachers raving about her genius. But, our mother always refused to allow the promotion. She told Rosaria it was, because she didn’t want to slight India & put her twin sister a grade ahead of her, but I knew she was holding Rosaria back, because she was jealous of her own daughter.
When she was eleven years old, Rosaria got accepted into the State Mock Trails. It’s an honors law program for high school upperclassmen, but they wanted a sixth-grade Rosaria & her beautiful mind desperately. That’s when momma gave me what she knew I so desperately wanted. Rosaria, on a silver platter no less.”
“Anthony is such a good listener,” India continued. “During our long walk I was rambling on like an idiot about my past relationships, saying:
‘I’m so affectionately giving, yet I’m rarely able to shower guys with affection, because they give it to me so inconsistently, if at all, it makes me spend my affection scarcely. You must think I’m crazy, am I talking too much?’
So Anthony goes, “promise me one thing sweetheart.”
Then I go, “sure babe, what’s that?”
Then Anthony goes, “That you’ll never apologize for loquaciously speaking your mind. When you vent to me & share your past, you’re not talking too much, you’re painting a clear picture of who you are on the canvas of my mind. Your ink is your feelings. Your paint is your experiences, pain you’ve over came.
Your view on love & relationships is clay. Allow me to ceramically mold your disposition with the strong grip of my understanding, as my strong hands hold yours into position.
My mission is not to shape you into my ideal woman. My goal is not to change you into some bad bitch mold. My goddess, you are the mold. You really think you talk to much, don’t you? Baby, can’t you see, with every wise word spoken, the way you drop knowledge on me is proof when you were made, the mold was broken.
Just because I let you speak for eighteen minutes at a time, uninterrupted, doesn’t mean your venting words fall on deaf ears. I eat every word you serve. I dine on every food for thought you grill. Your words paint the sill picture of my favorite work of art, India. Hearing your words, I learned:
She’s needy, but loses interest in inconsistent people quickly, yet she requires a lot of attention, but she also likes her space & gets annoyed at clinginess. Basically, she doesn’t know what the hell she wants, but you better give it to her consistently, else she’ll get bored with you instantly.
Your level of affection speaks to me as a strong man in need of it. As you spoke to me, I spoke to me as well. I told myself:
She’s not needy, she’s an affectionate giver. She only requires a lot of attention, because she gives her all on such a high level, it must be reciprocated, else she’ll be left with nothing.
Clinginess annoys her, because everyone who ever held on to her used her. Anyone she ever got attached to left her out of nowhere when she needed them most.
So, I go, ‘oh em gee babe, you’re reading me like a book right now.’
Then he goes, ‘come sit your intelligent ass on my lap, so I can turn your pages. Tell me your story, your visions, your ambitions & I will read you mine. Dine on your mind & make your vibe recline.’w
“Damn Indie,” Rosaria replied enthusiastically, “Black Thor mind fucked the shit out of you tonight.”
“Didn’t I tell you,” India agreed with a smile. “The thing that most attracts me to him isn’t his chiseled frame, it’s the fact he wants me for me, not for my curvy behind. He wants me for my mind.”
“Why in the fuck would you want your own sister?” Anthony asked Austin in disgust.
“You never thought about what it would be like to…”
“Man, never, you kidding me?” Anthony answered.
“She vexed me,” Austin admitted. “Always wearing her leatard & leggings around the house. And she didn’t have an eleven year old body. She had a heart-shaped…”
“Listen you sick fuck,” Anthony threatened, choking Austin with a death grip, “just because you think it’s ok to clamor after an eleven year old’s body doesn’t mean I want to hear those details.”
“You wanted this,” Austin reminded him, “you wanted to know why I did what I did. Well this is why. Our mother would tell me, ‘is it me, or is Rosaria’s butt getting bigger by the day?’ She even told me I could drive one of the BMW’s whenever I wanted if I used it to pick up Rosaria from her mock trial practice every week night.
The first time I did it, she fought me off as hard as she could. She even told our parents with tears in her eyes an hour after it happened. I don’t know if my dad really thought she was making it up, or if he was just protecting me, because I was the nepotistic heir to his company. Either way, after that night, Rosaria realized, no one could save her from me.
It made me feel powerful to take power away from her. Always the smarter one. Always the gifted one. Until I took that power away from her.”
“You’re telling me an eleven year old little girl accused her sixteen year-old blood brother of raping her & no one believed her?” Anthony asked in astonishment.
“No one takes rape accusations seriously in our society. The only person who believed her was the one person I thought could never help her, India,” Austin replied. “She took my manhood from me. The last time I tried to rape Rosaria was the first time I noticed that cameras.”
“Cameras?” Anthony asked.
“The nanny cam inside the teddy bears,” Austin replied.
“But,” Anthony interjected, “who…”
“Our mother,” Anthony answered. I never noticed them before, but she had to have been taping us every time. Anyway, that’s not even the worst thing that happened that night. India stole my manhood from me that night. Before I could even get Rosaria’s leggings off, I felt a pain so blood wrenching, it still haunts me to this day. India snuck in behind me & chopped my penis off with our grandfather’s machete. I passed out seconds after, & when I finally came to, I was the gorgeous woman you see sitting before you today. Well, without the boobs. I didn’t get those ’til…”
“No wonder she feels like she owes her,” Anthony said under his breath, shaking his breath.
“Who owes who?” Austin asked. “I don’t owe anyone anything.”
“Never mind that,” Anthony responded, “where are the tapes?”
“What tapes” Austin asked with a puzzled expression.”
“Playing dumb with me will get you tortured,” Anthony assured, “the tapes from the nanny cam. Obviously India doesn’t know about them, else she wouldn’t have sent me here to simply kill you. Do either of your sisters even know their own mother made you rape you her?”
Fluffy begin barking hysterically. He ran to the door & begin scratching her paws up against it.
“What is it dog?” Rosaria asked.
“Who’s dog is that?” India asked. “He ruined the tulips bae bought me.”
Suddenly the door bell rung.
India walked to her front door, pet Fluffy on his back & peeped through the peep hole. As soon as she saw who it was, she dropped her phone in shock.
“Oh em gee,” India whispered, looking back at her sister, “it’s momma.”
To be continued……
Read episode #6 now => http://wp.me/sT7Bl-bib006
This is a fictional, weekly web-story, based on true events.
I offered to incorporate subscribers emails for advice in the weekly #BreakfastInBed stories as a way for them to anonymously ask people worldwide for advice on their situations.
By: Ebrahim Aseem
Author of the book, “Why Men Cheat on Loyal Women”
Motivational #SpeakLife vidoes: Youtube.com/RealNewsmagazine
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I prefer COURTING over "talking". I resent society deems it "soft" for a man to be caring, chivalrous & monogamous. I'm tough AND affectionate. I aspire to be a father & husband. What you brothas get from having 5-minute sex with multiple girls who lack consciousness is beyond me.😒 No shade. Do you, but I just want forever with that one 💍👰💒👪🏡✈🗼 #EbrahimAseem #SpeakLife