Hussy

Chapter Seven

“Run down that aisle and grab me some laundry detergent, would you?”

“Fine.” Lindsey sighed, hugging herself and shivering as she followed her mother pushing the cart past the meat bins. Should have worn jeans or something. She smiled to herself at the thought of actually complying with her mother’s wishes and wearing more clothes than she had on. They’d compromised on a pair of Daisy Duke cutoffs and a tube top. She still couldn’t wear her white satin short shorts out of the house without protest. “Are we almost done?”

“Just a few more things on my list.” Her mother peered at something written on the back of a receipt as Lindsey headed toward the soap aisle. “You know what brand to get, right?”

“Not exactly the first time you’ve sent me looking for detergent.”

Her mother sighed. “Hurry back, I’ll be over by the baked goods.”

“Ooo, get some donuts!” Lindsey’s eyes brightened at the thought.

“Breakfast of champions?” Her mother snorted.

“Breakfast of teenagers. Please?”

Her mother sighed again. “Hurry back and you can pick some out.”

Lindsey hefted an orange bottle of Tide from the bottom shelf. It made her think of Zach and the way he had tossed her clothes in his little stackable washer and dryer in his apartment. That hadn’t been the last time she’d seen him-they’d had two more dates with just a kiss at her doorstep, which had left her both confused and annoyed. And then there was the couch incident.

She balanced the detergent against her hip, remembering the last time she was by his place. She’d thought it might have happened then, when they were together on the couch. Zach must have thought they’d be safer in the living room than the bedroom, but Lindsey could maneuver her little body into all sorts of positions, and had managed to free his cock, pulling her shorts and panties aside so she was rubbing up against him as they kissed.

The feel of her hot, slick cunt riding up and down his shaft should have done it-that and, of course, all the begging and pleading and dirty talk she was doing in his ear. It was certainly having an effect on his cock. It was rock hard and weeping, his hands digging deep into the flesh of her hips and ass as she rubbed against him, and his groans were definitely caught somewhere between pleasure and pain.

“Please, baby, please,” she begged him, her tank-tee pulled up over her little breasts, the nipples hard as she rocked faster. “God, I can’t stand it, Zach, I want you, I want your cock in me, baby, ohhh god please fuck me, please, please… ” She wasn’t even sure of the words, she was just begging him, aching for him-she honestly couldn’t remember a time when she had wanted sex so much, not for real. He made her head swim.

“Lindsey, listen… ” He always tried talking, some rational discussion, some logical reason why not, but she didn’t want to hear it and would do anything not to hear it.

“Suck my tits,” she moaned, directing her nipple into his mouth. “Please, god, suck it hard. Sometimes I can come that way.”

That made him groan and draw her nipple into his mouth with a ferocious hunger, working the other one between his big fingers. She thrashed and twisted in his lap, working her hips in fast, hot circles over his dick, sure that if she came this way, if he reduced her to a wet, quivering puddle of cum on his couch, he would have to fuck her-he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

“Baby, god, that’s it!” she cried, thrusting her hips against his, feeling her climax coming. He mouthed her other nipple, sucking it hard and sending her right over the edge. Lindsey quivered on his lap, her pussy clamping down against his cock as she came, flooding him with her wetness. She knew he must feel every sweet pull of her cunt, trying to suck his dick into her, and she wasted no time reaching down and aiming him at her spasming hole.

“Ohhh fuck, baby, no,” he groaned as she began to slide down onto him. His hands grabbed her hips, stopping her, and she cried out in frustration, feeling just the big head of his cock throbbing inside of her. “No, no, listen, wait… remember, we talked about getting tested before we… ”

“Nooooo,” she wailed, nearly sobbing against him, biting at his shoulder, desperate to have him. Yes, he’d brought up the subject of diseases and multiple partners and it was all very logical, and at the time Lindsey understood. Now, though, riding up and down against the sweet length of his cock, aching for him inside of her, she didn’t care. “Pleeeeeease don’t make me stop… ”

She felt him giving in, the way his hands eased up on her hips, the deep throb of his cock as he lifted himself, just a little, seeking more heat. It would have happened, she knew it would have-if the damned phone hadn’t rung. He tumbled her off of him, hanging onto his unbuckled jeans in one hand and grabbing for the phone, but he was too late. It went to message while Lindsey pulled her top back down and her shorts into place and curled up on the couch hugging one of the pillows.

“Hey, baby, it’s Alicia. I’m in town for a few days. I’d love to get together, so give me a call, okay?”

Lindsey had lifted her head, incredulous, as some Beyonce wannabe left her number on Zach’s answering machine while he zipped his jeans and went to hit “stop” as fast as he could. It was too late, though. She’d got the message-loud and clear.

“That’s not what you think,” Zach insisted as she pulled on her sandals. “Lindsey, listen, she’s-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lindsey remembered saying, unchaining and unlocking the apartment door. “At least somebody is gonna get fucked this weekend.” She hadn’t wanted to see his face when she threw the last comment over her shoulder. “Who knows, maybe I will, too.”

“Lindsey!”

In her memory, the voice was Zach’s calling from the top of the stairs as she tromped down them, but she realized, after a moment, that someone was actually calling her name. Turning, still holding the laundry detergent against her hip and expecting to see her mother waiting impatiently at the end of the aisle, she instead found Brian, his eyes sweeping over her outfit as he stood there, grinning stupidly from ear to ear.

“What do you want?” Lindsey sighed, shifting the detergent to her other hip.

“I dunno.” Brian shrugged, still grinning that goofy grin. “I just saw you and thought… you might wanna meet at the tree fort again?”

Lindsey looked at him for a moment, contemplating it. The memory of Zach and the phone call was fresh in her mind and she chewed her lip, seeing the way Brian’s eyes moved over her. “What time?”

“Say nine?” He looked at his watch. “I get out of here at eight.”

“Okay.” She turned and then glanced back. “Just you?”

“Do you want me to invite more?”

“Sure.” Lindsey kept going, calling over her shoulder. “The more the merrier.”

“All right!” He was already digging his cell phone out of his pocket.

Lindsey saw Mr. Finn again that evening while she was changing in the garden. She flashed him a view from behind when she pulled her short shorts on, winking over the fence as she passed.

“Have a good night,” she called.

He shook his head. “You’re a bad girl.”

“I try!”

She’d expected the same guys as last time-the one she’d fucked again at the pool, Ralph, and maybe the little shy blonde one, too. She doubted Brian had too many other friends he was willing to share with. She didn’t know then how she misjudged him.

It wasn’t dark when she reached the tree fort-it wouldn’t be full dark for another hour-but the light was starting to fade under the canopy of the trees, and it was entirely too quiet for her liking. She expected talking, laughter, anticipatory howls even, a radio perhaps. She could only hear her own breath, fast and light, and the sound of the wind shifting the leaves overhead.

Maybe they hadn’t arrived yet. Maybe that was good. She had considered not coming at all, even though she’d said she would. Changing in the garden gave her a little thrill, but the walk didn’t have the usual crotch-tingling anticipation. In fact, she felt decidedly uninterested in being there. More than that-she felt sad, and even a little guilty, especially when she thought about Zach.

She was thinking about going home and calling Zach, taking the long way, maybe stopping by 7-11 for a Slurpee, when the cloth slipped over her head from behind, enveloping her in darkness. She knew who it must be, what they were doing-of course, not all of what they intended to do, not by a long shot-so her struggle was expected, but it was also in earnest. She wasn’t playing. She didn’t want to play this game anymore. Not that it mattered.

“Where’s her fucking tits?”

Lindsey shrieked when rough hands pulled her top down, squeezing her breasts hard. Someone was holding her from behind, arms locked around her elbows, and her panicked, heated panting pulled the dark cloth into her mouth again and again. Lindsey used the strength of whoever was holding her to lift herself, aiming her legs in front of her and pistoning them out, hard. She heard a satisfying “Oof!”

“Bitch!” a voice gasped and she shrieked when the backhand came out of nowhere-of course, she couldn’t see it coming. It was a hard hit, landing solidly against her temple, making her ears ring with the blow. She even saw stars for a moment and then her lip burst against her teeth like plump fruit, only fat with blood instead of juice, when they hit her again.

“She likes it, I’m telling you!” That was Brian’s voice-he was the one holding her. She struggled in his arms, twisting uselessly, tasting copper and swallowing her own blood.

“No!” Her hoarse voice pleaded with them. “Please!”

“That’s what she said last time,” Brian chuckled, hefting her arms, pulling her in tighter. “I’m telling you, she loves the rough shit.”

“Good.” The voice she didn’t recognize made Lindsey’s insides turn cold. “I’m gonna give her plenty of it.”

“Not like this,” Lindsey gasped as someone pulled the cloth or blindfold or whatever it was up over her mouth and tied it hard behind her head, leaving her bleeding lips free, but she was still unable to see.

“How are we gonna get her up there?” It was another voice Lindsey didn’t recognize, rougher than the first, like his throat was filled with gravel or grit.

“I don’t want her up there.” That was the smooth one-the one who’d backhanded her, she was sure. His voice was smooth and deadly, like a snake. “Hand me that rope.”

Lindsey moaned softly as they began to tie her, and she stopped resisting as hands pulled off her shorts and top. They pulled her hands up high, using some sort of tree limb, she was sure, stretching her so far that she had to go up on her tiptoes, losing her sandals in the process. She tried to balance in the dirt, feeling pine needles under her feet as they continued to work around her, pulling, prodding, spreading her legs and securing those, too, with rope. Her arms ached already, but she had a feeling that was going to be the least of her worries in the pain department in the long run.

She tried to think of things to say, a way out of this, to gain control, the upper hand. They had left her mouth free, and she could have talked, but everything that came into her head was a plea, and she knew it was what they wanted-it would only fuel things further-and she was determined, now, not to give them what they wanted. Not until she had to.

“How are we gonna fuck her like that?” Brian sounded truly confused, but Lindsey wasn’t at all surprised by the answer.

“I’m not gonna fuck her.” Smooth’s voice was almost right next to her ear and she startled at his closeness as she heard Gritty laugh on the other side of her. “Not yet, anyway.”

“But-”

Lindsey winced at the sound of the blow, hearing Brian cry out, “What the fuck?” He sounded genuinely surprised, but she wasn’t surprised at all. She knew their type. The two guys Brian had brought with him tonight would only get off on hurt, not just force, but the mean, sadistic kind of hurt that spilled over from the case of Bud they’d brought with them, but more, it spilled from them like pressure cookers gone too long with something really nasty boiling inside, something unable to contain itself. Brian was just starting to see the overflow. Lindsey knew she would be the brunt of whatever explosion eventually occurred.

“Shut the fuck up, kid.” Smooth grabbed the back of Lindsey’s head, her hair in his fist, the blindfold tightening to the point of pain. He kissed her, but it wasn’t any sort of real kiss-it was just an attempt to bruise her mouth with his, forcing her to cry out as her teeth collided with her lower lip and started the bleeding again. He wanted to hear her and she knew it, trying to keep her pain in with whimpers, trying not to show her fear.

“She’s got a nice little cooze.” Gritty’s fingers-she knew it was him, his voice was on the other side of her-were short and stubby, just as she imagined he was, and probably his little dick, too. They probed between her pussy lips, searching.

“No tits, though.” Smooth grabbed them again, twisting, pulling so hard she could feel instant bruises forming. “Might as well cut the damned things off and start over.” Gritty laughed, a dark snort and chortle, his fingers still probing between her thighs.

“What do you think, girlie?” The heat of his body felt huge beside her, overpowering, and she felt more than heard a gentle click beside her cheek. “Wanna just lose the baby tits and start over again?”

She felt a scream rising from her throat as he scraped the blade-end of a knife gently over her cheek, back and forth, and fought hard against it. There was no one to hear her, she knew, and screaming would just give them what they wanted. She held as still as she could as he drew the knife’s edge over her skin, petting her with it, as if he were trying to shave off the soft, downy peach fuzz covering her flesh. When he reached her breasts, he stopped, and Lindsey held her breath, trembling, willing herself not to panic.

“Answer me.” His voice remained calm-deadly calm, that same smooth tone.

“Please.” Lindsey moaned and tried to make her chest concave as the tip of the knife pressed between them. She felt something wet running down her belly and it was a moment before she realized it was her own blood. Panic rose again, long before she felt the burning pain at the site of the knife-tip grazing her skin, and she knew she was losing it. “I don’t know you! I just want to go home, now, okay? I need to… I have to go home and sleep now.”

Smooth’s chuckle was as smooth as his voice. “You can sleep all you want, sweetheart… when I’m done with you.”

I need to go to the moon.

The voice in her head was already distant and she looked up, as if she weren't blindfolded, searching for a glimpse of it through the blackness. She knew the moon would just be rising, and in her mind's eye, she focused there, feeling herself going, going… gone.

Daddy, I fell down.

Her little girl self was cowering somewhere, but she didn’t show it. Inside, she was filled with those hitching, uncontrollable sobs, and she saw her father’s face, his eyes soft with concern, kissing her to knee to try and make it better. She was afraid of the medicine, afraid of the band-aid, afraid of the pain.

Close your eyes and go to the moon, Lindsey, like we do at night before you go to sleep, and it won’t hurt so much.

So she did. She pulled back, away from herself, floating somewhere above it all. And she could see them, somehow she could see it all, the looming shadows moving around her as she strained against the ropes, strung up and helpless. She wanted to scream, but she knew no one would come. No one would believe her. No one ever did. There was no one to protect her and there never would be. There was nothing to do except float, somewhere above it all, watching as they beat her, and when she didn’t respond to that, tearing the limbs from branches and using those to bloody her back and legs.

“Shit, man, what’s wrong with her?” Gritty smacked her hard across the face, rocking her head back, but Lindsey didn’t make a sound. She was far above it, a roar like the sound of the F-16s flying overhead filling her ears, the pain just a dream.

“Is she dead?” That was Brian’s voice, shaking, scared. Lindsey wanted to call to him, tell him it was okay, she was okay, but words wouldn’t form in her swollen mouth.

“Get her down.” Smooth sounded disgusted, very unsatisfied.

The ropes stopped holding her and she collapsed into the dirt like a child’s doll. There was a voice in her head, forming words, just one: Run! Run! Run! But her body wouldn’t cooperate. In her mind, she was running, sprinting down the path, over logs, ignoring the sting of branches against her face, but still she could see herself, limbs bloody and folded beneath her in the dirt as the shadows loomed again.

“Okay, kid, saddle up.”

“What?” Brian’s voice was still shaking and Lindsey wanted to comfort him, but she still couldn’t move.

“You heard me! Get on that bitch and ride her!”

“I-”

Lindsey didn’t know what was happening, but gentle hands turned her, the dirt incredibly cool and even soothing against her stinging back and behind. She felt herself coming back into her body and she fought it, but couldn’t.

Brian’s voice trembled in her ear as he leaned over her, fumbling with the buckle on his jeans. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… ”

Something flopped between her legs, and she realized he was trying to jam himself into her soft.

“What’s the matter with you, fuckhead?” Smooth snorted. “Can’t get a fucking hard-on?”

“I-”

“It’s okay.” Lindsey reached down and found him, limp and wilting in her hand, and she began to stroke him. Her touch was practiced, expert, her thumb rubbing the sensitive glans as she whispered into Brian’s ear all the things she knew men loved to hear.

“That’s it, baby. I want that hard dick in my wet little cunt. I’m so hot for you. Feel that wet pussy? You want to sink your cock in that hot little hole?”

“Ohhh fuck.” Brian shook his head, denying it, but his cock was hardening in her hand.

“She really does like it!” Gritty’s voice was too close-he was on the ground beside her-and she shrank from the sound.

Brian whispered, “Lindsey, I’m so sorry… ”

“Come on,” she whispered back, aiming his now-full erection between her legs. “Fuck me. Give them a good show.”

“Yeah, that’s it… ” Smooth’s voice was almost a whisper, too, somewhere over her. She could imagine him licking his lips, rubbing his crotch while he watched, getting ready to get it out to stroke it to the live porn show in front of him. “Fuck that cunt!”

She tried to block them out, but she was back in her body now, feeling the length of Brian’s cock moving in her, the gentle grunting, his breath coming faster against her ear. The weight of him reminded her how broken she felt, but the pain was, at least, something to concentrate on, and she wondered how bad it really was.

“Suck this, you little whore!” It was Gritty’s voice, and she had been right about his short, fat dick. He shoved it between her bruised and swollen lips, and she opened more from self-protection than anything else, letting him slide it back toward her throat. It wasn’t long enough to choke her, and for that she was grateful.

“Get up on your knees, kid,” Smooth directed. “I wanna watch those baby titties bounce.”

Brian shifted his weight, and Lindsey would have sighed in relief if she hadn’t had a cock pumping in and out of her mouth. She didn’t like how exposed and vulnerable she felt, though, without Brian on top of her, and it wasn’t long before Smooth was pinching her nipples and twisting her flesh in his fingers, making her cry out around the thrust of the determined dick in her mouth.

“Ahhh, god,” Brian moaned between her thighs, his hips pumping faster. Her blindfold had slipped, and she could see him beneath it, his face screwed up, lips pursed, and if she didn’t know it was in pleasure, she might have thought he was in great pain. She also glimpsed her clothes beside her, a flash of white and red, and she closed her fist over them while he fucked her, waiting for it to be over.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Smooth was getting all excited, slapping her tits, pinching her nipples, making her squirm in the dirt. “Make a mess, kid. Come all over the little slut!” Then came the distinctive feel of a hand shuttling up and down the length of a cock against her tits, and since there was one in her mouth and another in her pussy, she knew this dick must belong to Smooth. He groaned and thrust over her, never letting up in his torture to her breasts. “Uh! Uh! Oh, yeah! Like this, kid! Ohhh yeah! Drown her little baby tits in it!”

Brian moaned and slid out from between her legs, letting loose with hot jets of cum that splashed in wet trails over her belly and cunt. The sight of both of them coming at once must have been too much for Gritty, who began to come in Lindsey’s mouth. She spit it out, gagging, and he groaned, aiming his short, spurting cock toward her belly and tits along with the rest of them, covering her with their cum.

“I thought you wanted to fuck her,” Brian panted, still sounding so genuinely confused that Lindsey didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“I wouldn’t fuck that shit if you paid me a million dollars.” The knee in her side made her gasp, and the pain was so incredible she wondered if he’d broken her rib.

Still, Lindsey knew there wasn’t much time. Their cocks were wet and growing limp, and this might be her only chance before the real meanness began. And she knew it was coming-it was just a matter of time. The feel of the clothes balled in her fist, the little short shorts and tube top, is what got her moving. Brian was fumbling with his jeans between her legs and she rolled to her side-toward Gritty, not Smooth-and bolted.

“Fuck!” Smooth hadn’t expected her to be so fast, she knew from the surprise in his voice, but she was, in spite of the pain, incredibly quick. She pulled the blindfold off, throwing it behind her as she ran down the path. Her lungs ached and the ground bit at her feet, but she didn’t pay any attention. They were behind her, coming for her, and she had to keep going.

“Going somewhere, hot stuff?” He grabbed her hair, yanking it hard and stopping her short. Gritty panted up behind him, and Lindsey turned her face up toward them both, on her knees now, panting with her effort to get away.

Smooth was just as smooth as she’d imagined, older, his tanned, lined face twisted into a sneer. His hair was bleach blonde and spiked, though, not the dark she’d imagined, and he looked strangely like he was wearing a halo as she stared up at him. Gritty bent over, panting, hands resting on his knobby, hairy knees. His pants were completely off, and his belly hung almost low enough to hide his softening dick.

“Not done with you, yet.” Smooth had his jeans on, but they were still undone, and he brought her face toward his crotch, rubbing it there, the teeth of his zipper raking her lips, making her wince.

“I saw you both.” It was all she said before she brought her head down and then up hard into his crotch, thanking god for all those years of learning how to head-butt a soccer ball. Smooth went down in a hissing, writhing heap, and she was gone again, off running, finally, for real this time and not in her mind, her body finally cooperating.

She didn’t stop until she reached the edge of the path, glancing behind her to make sure they weren’t following. Then she pulled her clothes quickly on, although she knew they didn’t cover the mess she was. Thank god it was nearly dark, now, and she limped home as the moon started to rise, an orange blaze over her shoulder.

She didn’t make a garden stop to change back into her regular clothes. Instead, she tried to sneak quietly up the back stairs to her room. Her mother’s car was gone, but her stepfather’s was in the driveway, and that meant she would have to be extra careful.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she shut her door behind her and leaned against it, closing her eyes. Everything hurt-it even hurt to breathe-but she was home, safe in her own room. That, at least-

“You little slut.”

Lindsey’s eyes flew open at the sound of his voice. Her stepfather was sitting on her bed, and the sight of her journals open in a heap around him made her stomach sink to her knees. They had been hidden in the wall, behind a loose piece of paneling. She thought they would never find them…

“If your mother saw these, you know what would happen.”

If she could have taken a step back, she would have, but the door was solid behind her, barring the way. He was coming for her, towering over her, and she shrank down into a ball on the floor, covering her head with her arms.

“We’re going to burn them.” He grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up, and Lindsey flashed back to the woods and fought the urge to scream. “And you are never… ” He shook her, holding her shoulders now, his fingers digging into the tender, broken flesh of her back. “… ever, ever going to do something like that again!”

Something inside of her broke open, spilling out in hot waves as she stared at him. “What? What did I do?”

He shook her, his face inches from hers, teeth clenched so tightly it was hard to understand him through the sneer. “You know just what you did, you teasing little whore!”

“It wasn’t me!” Lindsey shook her head, incredulous. “It was you! You!”

“You asked for it.” He dropped his hands from her and went over to the bed and started throwing her journals into a box. He was going to burn them, as if he could rid himself of her and everything that had happened, sweep it away and pretend it never existed.

“Maybe I’ve deserved every horrible thing you’ve ever done to me.” Her voice shook as she watched him stacking the scarred and pained words of her adolescence into a cardboard box. “I just hope it was worth it. Did it make you feel like a man-fucking your twelve-year-old stepdaughter?”

He turned to her, his face red with anger at the words, but Lindsey didn’t stop. “Oh right, I’m not supposed to talk about it-and who would believe a little slut like me, anyway? Certainly not my own mother. Not after the stories you told about me.”

Lindsey paused to take a shaky breath, remembering the slow erosion that had happened between her and her mother over the years as he started to harp on Lindsey about her clothes, her developing body. “I wasn't a slut until you made me one… going on and on about all the boys I’d fucked at the ripe old age of twelve… when the truth was, the only one who ever touched me was you!”

“Shut up!” He came toward her, his posture threatening, but she couldn’t stop. Something had cracked open in her tonight. Maybe it had happened in the woods, when they tied her up, forced her down, worked her cunt as if that was all she was, holes to be filled, something to be used and tossed away. It had begun seeping out then, like the blood from her lip, but now it broke open, a flood.

Like the night the moon was in my window…

She remembered that in a flood, too, a deluge, and the memory tasted bitter, like copper on her tongue. Even that memory was unsafe. It came in a flood, like the blood between her legs had flowed when he forced himself on her, in her, and she couldn’t do anything but endure. The moon had floated in a square patch of window, and she had gone away then-I fell down, Daddy-all the way to the moon, just like she had earlier tonight.

“You knew I was a virgin!” Lindsey screamed, the ache in her chest bursting as she sobbed, not wanting to but remembering everything she’d been hiding, covering, holding back-everything she had poured into those journals. “And you left me… in all that blood… so much blood… ”

Her voice cracked and she spat the last at him. “I had to throw the sheets away and turn my mattress over so my own mother wouldn’t see what you’d done to me!”

Lindsey grabbed the edge of the bed and shoved it toward the wall, tipping the twin mattress up, revealing the darkened stain underneath as it slid off the box spring. She pointed to it, trembling, remembering how she had scrubbed and scrubbed, tears and snot mixing with the blood on the mattress, wishing she could just melt away, erase herself, until she became transparent.

“Get out!” He reached past her for the doorknob, his voice shaking. “I want you out of my house.”

“Oh, I have no intention of staying.” Lindsey turned to go, and they both saw her mother standing just outside the door, hand raised as if to knock, her face pale, eyes wide.

Lindsey just brushed past her, not saying a word. Her whole body ached as if it was on fire, beaten, broken, but somehow she felt lighter as she walked, barefoot, down the street, looking for the nearest pay phone where she would call Zach and ask him to come for her. Maybe, she whispered to the rising moon, just maybe, there was finally someone in the world who might believe her.