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This Side of Crazy
This Side of Crazy
This Side of Crazy
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This Side of Crazy

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Maxine Payne’s poor self-esteem led her to marry the first man that showed any interest in her. After five years of marriage and misery she has nothing to show for it. Her sham of a marriage is falling apart and her dream of having a child is fading away each day. To make matters worst she discovers that the people in her life are not there to love and help her as she has always believed.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherKimmie Thomas
Release dateSep 17, 2010
ISBN9780983029410
This Side of Crazy
Author

Kimmie Thomas

Kimmie Thomas is native Detroiter, she lives with her husband and children. She writes when she not working as a teacher and a nurse. Dramatic writing is her first love but erotica is her drug of choice.

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    Book preview

    This Side of Crazy - Kimmie Thomas

    This Side of Crazy

    Kimmie Thomas

    Published by Tomcat Publishing at Smashwords

    Copyright 2010 Kimmie Thomas

    Discover other title by Kimmie Thomas at

    http://www.kimmiethomas.com

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank your respecting the hard work of this author.

    This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is conincidental.

    Chapter One

    On your knees, bitch. I know you’re not looking me in the eye, the woman says. She grips the chain that is attached to the leather collar around his neck. She puts her size nine, black, four inch spike heeled pump on his pale white ass and pushes him over on to the urine stained floor.

    The man wails in pain as he reaches for the chain to stabilize himself. She kicks him in his sagging balls.

    Don’t you ever touch my leash, she screams. Do you hear me, asshole? You know you’re a sorry piece of shit, don’t you? The man mumbles like a confused child.Say it. I’m a sorry piece of shit, she says as she raises her arm high. She grips her leather whip tightly as it cuts through the air. The whip strikes the fat part of his side and back. The man whimpers in ecstasy.

    Yes, Mistress. I’m a sorry piece of shit, the balding white man cries out.

    She lets the chain drop from her hands on to the floor. Your time is up, she says. You have exactly 10 minutes to get off my floor and clean that piss up before my next client gets here. Did you leave me something in the box?

    Yes, Mistress.

    The middle-aged man hurries to his feet and grabs a mop from the bucket in the kitchen, mopping the floor quickly, letting the chain drag the floor while he completes his task. He places the mop in the bucket, then reluctantly removes the leather collar and chain from around his neck and places them in the box by the back door where soiled items are kept. The collar brings him so much comfort and security. He likes having someone else in charge of his every move.

    He quickly dresses and drops to his knees in front of her. One of his mistress’ most important rules is never to go over your allotted time or she will cancel all your training sessions.

    May I see you again on Friday, Mistress? he asks meekly. His fingers are inches from her beautifully manicured red toenails. Like a little child, he feels moved to touch them just because he knows he isn’t supposed to. He forces himself to resist; he doesn’t want to offend her and cause his training session to be stopped.It depends on what you left me in my box, the woman says nonchalantly.

    He has only been receiving training from the Mistress for about six months. She is by far the most expensive Mistress he has ever had, but she is definitely worth every penny. His usual appointment is every other Monday, costing him one thousand dollars per session. He had contacted the Mistress a week in advance and begged for another training session this week. He almost creamed his pants when she text back what time he should arrive at her dungeon.

    This was going to be an unusually stressful week for him. He was negotiating a 2.1 million dollar contract for his architectural firm. Everything was going as planned, but he needed the release that his Mistress provided. The thought of waiting two whole weeks for her discipline was unbearable. By Friday the contracts would be signed.

    A session with the Mistress will be his reward to himself.

    Will $1300 please you, mistress? he mumbles with a bowed head, hoping that $1300 he already left in her offering box will be enough. It was all that he could afford without his wife getting suspicious about where all the money was going.

    If that’s the best you can do, I’ll see you next week on your usual day.

    His shoulder slumps in defeat. He is sure he won’t be able to make it another week without seeing his Mistress. The trembling man reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He has more than $700 left in billfolds.

    I can’t wait that long. I’ll make it $1500, the man says.

    Friday it is then.

    Chapter Two

    The alarm rang annoyingly. One of the residents of the elegantly furnished master bedroom needed to silence it. Feeling a nudge from the other side of the king size bed, Maxine Payne swung her legs over the side of the bed and fumbled for the off button.

    She rose from her warm bed and went to the adjoining bathroom to prepare for her day. Maxine turned on the light and quickly averted her eyes away from the mirror. One glimpse of herself in the mirror and she would have to face her miserable life.

    She dressed in the darkness of her walk-in closet, trying not to wake her sleeping husband. Exiting the closet, she walked into her bedroom and slipped on the black pumps she left near the door the night before. She forced herself to forge ahead. She dreaded waking her stepsons for school.

    Ty and Terrell. Time to get up, she called out, but got no response.

    Flipping on the light switch, she called their names again. Ty turned over and pulled his blanket over his head. Maxine snatched the cover off of him and sternly told him to get up and get ready for school.

    Leave me alone. I hate you, Ty said. His words should have hurt her feelings, but she was used to it. Getting the boys out of bed and dressed for school would take her more than an hour. Even after the boys were up and dressed, she still had to get them to school on time, which rarely happened.

    Maxine Payne wasn’t sure how she got herself into this mess. Two fucked up kids who took every opportunity to remind her that she wasn’t their mother. She had tried to talk with her husband, Doug about it again last night, but he felt it was her fault. Whenever she brought up the subject of his children and their behavior, Doug told her she needed to make the boys respect her.

    Max, you’re just going to have to show them who’s in charge, Doug told her.

    How was she supposed to get them to respect her if every time she tried to discipline them, Doug would jump in and tell her that she was blowing everything out of proportion. More to the point, why would they respect her when he didn’t? Five years had passed and nothing had changed. She was tired of playing second fiddle to Doug’s children.

    As usual Max was late for work. She hurried to her office so that she could get started on the work that awaited her. If she worked for anyone other than her best friend Callista, she would have been totally screwed.

    Maxine worked for Callista as a relationship coordinator. Cally, as everyone called her, owned a dating service that catered to the wealthy elite in the Metro Detroit area who were looking for love not gold diggers. Financial status and position were verified before introductions were made. Currently, Truly For You Dating Service boasted a sixty-five percent success rate.

    Most of the male clients wanted to date Callista. Who could blame them, she was definitely beautiful. Cally had it all, a happy marriage and two beautiful daughters, Max thought.

    Callista was always the strong one in her tight group of three friends. No one was surprised when she stepped out on faith and started her own business. Maxine admired her friends strength and tenacity. She hoped after working for Callista she would get enough courage to start her own business. The idea of opening her own business excited and frightened Maxine at the same time.

    Maxine didn’t need to work, nor did she need the money. Doug gave her a large allowance each month, but her mother had taught her that every woman needed to have mad money, that extra money you had stashed away in case you got mad and wanted to leave.

    Good morning, Max, Callista said from the doorway of Maxine’s office.

    Hey, good morning, Cally.

    Maxine couldn’t believe Cally looked so beautiful at nine-thirty in the morning. Cally’s hair fell on her shoulders, framing her small face. Her make-up was perfectly applied as usual. Cally was wearing a designer powder blue suit with matching accessories and shoes. Max had tried to mimic the way Cally dressed, but a size four suit didn’t look as good on a size fourteen body. How could she still wear a size four after two children, Max wondered. Max still hadn’t lost the weight she’d gained from the fertility pills she had tried a year ago.

    We’ve got twelve new clients coming in this week. Are you ready? Cally asked.

    Everything is ready, Max lied.

    Cally’s cell phone rang. She looked down at the display and looked up at Max nervously.

    Excuse me, I need to take this, Cally said, walking away so fast she almost ran.

    Max wondered who had caused Cally to look so nervous this early in the morning. For six months or more, Cally had begun to act strangely. She would leave for lunch and not return for several hours telling Max she had gone home for lunch with her husband. Her story would change when Max told her that her husband had called the office looking for her while she was gone.

    Cally and Max had been friends since kindergarten at St. Mary’s Catholic School in Detroit. In the fifth grade, Cyan became a part of their tight knit group. Cally had shared everything with Max, good or bad, but lately Cally had become very secretive. Max didn’t have time to worry about it; she had too much work to do.

    Max had four clients scheduled for today. Truly For You clientele were all wealthy professionals, who all claimed to be too busy to meet miss or mister right. The three men and a woman that Max had scheduled for today all said they were looking for their soul mate. The questionnaires that the clients completed asked questions about their daily lives and daily choices. In addition, clients were matched up by their belief systems and personal perceptions of others and themselves.

    As Max stared at the questionnaires of her clients, she realized she’d rather stay in the bed she’d made than try to find another one to sleep in. Max’s marriage was in shambles, but she didn’t think she had the strength to start all over.

    After each interview, Max carefully entered all of their information into the database. In the morning she would call her new clients and let them know if she had any matches for them and arrange for them to review the tapes of their perspective matches.

    Max watched her co-workers walk past her office door on their way home. Now that it was time to go home, Max suddenly had the urge to stay and catch up on all of her work. The only thing waiting on her at home was the laundry and the dinner she was going to prepare. Slowly getting up from her chair, Max reached for her brown Coach bag, almost knocking over a picture of Cyan, Cally and Max at a jazz club some eight years earlier. Of the three, she knew she wasn’t the prettiest or most talented, but she thought that at least she would be happily married with a few children of her own. And neither of those thoughts were true these days.

    Max spoiled Cyan’s and Cally’s children to make up for the lack of her own. Max was overjoyed when Cyan asked her to be the godmother of the child she was pregnant with. Max quickly accepted and offered to give her a baby shower. The baby wasn’t due for another few months, but Max had everything all arranged. She was just waiting until it was the appropriate time to mail the invitations. Cyan had been very vague about who the father of her third child was. The men in Cyan’s life seldom hung around, nor did she allow Max or Cally to meet them. Neither Cally nor Max pressed her about it. They would love and spoil the little bundle of joy regardless.

    Max put the picture back on the corner of her desk and headed for the door. There was no use putting off the inevitable. Doug and his bad ass children were waiting for her. Max knew Doug hadn’t started dinner even though he had been at home all day.

    Because Doug was determined to get as far away from the hood as he possible could, they moved fifty minutes outside of Detroit to small city called Chelsea. The scenic view of the trees and beautiful homes made the long drive home worth it. On a section of the eight miles of dirt road that led to their three thousand square foot home, the trees had grown across the roads in such a way that they looked like arch ways or tunnels. The October breeze made the multicolored leaves float down to the road. Max enjoyed the ride because the serenity of it all stopped at her front door.

    How had her marriage gone so wrong? Six years ago when Doug asked her to marry him, she thought she had finally met the man she had prayed for. Doug was so charming and loving when they first met. He took her to dinner two and three times a week. He complimented her and made her feel special. She was so self-conscious about her dark chocolate skin, full breasts and her thick hips and thighs. He told her that she was beautiful she just needed to tone up. He bought her jewelry, designer clothes, always picking out items that showed off her legs and cleavage. He also helped her pay many of her bills, including her mother’s medical bills.

    The costs of her mother’s medications alone were killing her. Her mother’s little social security check barely paid for her food and medical supplies. The only reason Max had been able to keep her mother’s house was because it was paid for. She was struggling and the help Doug offered was so needed and appreciated.

    As soon as Max stepped in the house, she was assaulted by the loudness of the television.

    Ty and Terrell, turn that TV down, Max said.

    She walked toward the family room when she got no response. Someone had left the television on. She searched the leather sectional, she found the remote under the pillows and turned off the TV. Max dropped her purse on the sofa and headed upstairs to change out of her work clothes and put on something comfortable.

    She approached her bedroom curiously; her bedroom door was never closed. She waited just outside the door when she heard her husband talking. Max felt her legs get weak when she heard

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