He opened the bedroom door and there were boys hanging out, trying to get a look. I scrambled to get dressed. The looks they gave me told me that I was close to pulling a train if I didn’t get out of there. The young guy from the picnic table stepped into the room and closed the door.
“My turn,” he said.
“I don’t even know you.”
“I’m Bill. Now get naked. I need to bust a nut in your slutty ass.”
“Bust it in your own,” I said, getting up.
He just laughed as I went out the door. He scared me. Something wasn’t right with that guy. I hurried out and found my friends. I must have had the ‘just had sex’ look because they wanted to know who I’d been with. I told them I wanted to go home.
I FOUND OUT LATER THAT Bill was Bill Rogers. He was the middle school equivalent of Tiny. He dealt drugs for Tiny. From what I heard, I was lucky to get out of the room. He was not a nice guy. The last day of school was the next time I saw him. He had waited out by the entrance with some of his stoner friends. I tried to avoid him, but he saw me.
“Hold up, I want to talk to you.”
“I have to go,” I said, and tried to walk past him.
He grabbed my arm, and the look in his eyes made me believe he wasn’t all there.
“Me and my buddies need blowjobs. If you’re really nice, we’ll do you till you can’t walk.”
Oh my God! This guy was nuts. I jerked my arm away from him and ran. I could hear him laughing. I looked back to see another girl wrap herself around him, and they kissed. I shuddered to think what they were going to do to her.
TINY CALLED ME. I DON’T know why I accepted, but he’d invited me to his new apartment. His parents kicked him out once he graduated high school. I went over and got high with him. He then had sex with me again. I don’t know why, but every time he called, I would run over and be his sex slave. It was so wrong and dirty, but I couldn’t help myself. During the summer, I pretty much was given my freedom. I’d never done anything to make my parents worry. If they knew about Tiny, there might have been trouble.
It was the same routine every time I went: we would smoke until I had a nice buzz, then we’d fuck. ‘Fuck’ is such a crude word, but it wasn’t sex. He just used me to get off. After we were done, he’d send me home. The problem was that it was great, but I needed more. At least Luke took me on dates. With Tiny, I was just a piece of meat he used when he was horny.
I was getting dressed one afternoon when Tiny shocked me.
“One of my guys has it bad for you. I want you to make him happy.”
I just looked confused. Did he just pimp me out?
“Bill’s been complaining that I should be sharing you.”
“Bill Rogers?” I asked in shock.
“Yeah.”
“No god damn way! He’s a psycho! We’re through if you even suggest something like that again!”
He raised his hands in defeat.
“Sorry, babe, I know you like what we do. I was just letting you know that some of my guys would like a turn.”
“Think again,” I said, and then got brave. “We need to make some changes. You have to take me out if we’re going to continue. I’m not just coming over here all the time.”
He just shrugged. I put my shirt back on and left. I vowed I was done.
He called the next day. I went over.
TINY FINALLY AGREED to take me to a party. I’d brought him close to climax while giving him head when I stopped and made my demand. He agreed. He laughed at me after but kept his promise.
One of his drug-dealing friends hosted a party in a warehouse and I was having a good time. Because I was with Tiny, everyone treated me like a queen. He was obviously a big deal because everyone kissed his butt. They all knew I was his girl. Several made comments that they were glad to finally see who had taken him off the market. All the girls there were jealous of me.
I stiffened when Bill came over to talk to Tiny, but he was surprisingly pleasant to be around for once. There were no demands for sex nor snide remarks. He went and got Tiny and me drinks. He gave Tiny a joint and we all lit up. Tiny said he had some stuff to take care of. He left me with Bill.
“Tiny tells me that you’re not interested in us getting together.”
Just when I thought he could act normal.
“No, it’s never going to happen.”
“Okay, I was just checking.”
I was happy when Tiny came back. Bill didn’t push it. Tiny had a joint he said was supposed to be primo shit. While Tiny lit up, Bill went and got us drinks. I was soon very buzzed. Tiny wasn’t doing any better, and we decided to go home. Bill was the only one that seemed to be okay, so Tiny gave him the keys, even though he wasn’t old enough to drive.
I lay down in the back seat and passed out.
I STARTED TO COME TO. My head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton. I suddenly felt sick.
“Stop the car!”
We were still rolling when I opened the door and leaned out to throw up. This wasn’t one of those gentle ‘I need to purge some beer’ barfs. This was ‘a demon has set up residence in your gut and you have to force it out.’ When I was finally done I was puking bile, and was afraid I’d hurt my ribs.
Bill just looked back at me and chuckled. I felt like shit. I needed a shower and about a gallon of water, I was so dehydrated. Then I noticed that I was missing my underwear and my t-shirt was on backward. I reached between my legs and I found I’d had unprotected sex.
“What happened to me?” I asked Bill.
Bill ignored me as he drove while Tiny was snored in the front seat. I didn’t remember Tiny and me doing anything.
“Where’s my underwear?”
“I have them. I decided to keep them as a souvenir.”
What? The little asshole raped me? I launched myself over the seat and tried to tear Bill’s eyes out. I was going to kill him. He grabbed my hands to pull them away from his eyes when I felt the car go over the curb. I looked up and saw Mr. Q’s Ice Cream Stand. It had been one of those drive-through photo places in a strip mall. It was about the size of a single-car garage. We hit the corner of the building.
I went flying over the seat and slammed into the dashboard. Tiny’s head also slammed into the dashboard. The airbag deployed, and Bill’s nose looked like it was broken.
“Shit,” Bill moaned.
I was lying on the floor, trying to catch my breath. I just wanted to go home and take a long shower. I was so done with this crowd.
“You crazy bitch, you just about killed us. Look at this place. We’re going to jail for this.”
Oh my God! This would kill my parents. Bill had climbed out of the car and was hitting his forehead.
“Think, think, think,” he said each time he smacked himself.
I climbed over Tiny and got out the other side. I didn’t want to be anywhere near Bill. He then looked up at me.
“I’m not going to jail. I’m on parole, this would send me back. This would mess up your world, Princess.”
I flinched when he used Tiny’s pet name for me.
“Help me move Tiny into the driver’s seat.”
“What?” I asked.
“Help me move him. I don’t think either of us wants to go to jail tonight.”
That is when I made the second stupidest mistake of my life: I helped Bill move Tiny into the driver’s seat. We let Tiny slump over the steering wheel. As soon as he was in place, Bill took off, leaving me to my own fate, so I started to walk home. A couple of girls from the party saw me crying on the side of the road. I told them Tiny had broken up with me. They gave me a ride home.
A COUPLE OF DAYS LATER, Tiny called. He’d made bail and wanted me to come over. I told him he had broken up with me and I had no desire to see him. He begged me, so I relented. When I got to his place, I noticed all his drug stuff was gone.