Chapter Three #2
I’m quickly pulled from my post-orgasm high by a repetitive thud coming from outside my bedroom door. I quickly grab my robe from the floor, wrapping it tightly around myself. I tap the screen on my laptop to end the live stream while heading to the door and yank it open.
Leaning against the door frame, panting heavily, is Corey, my mom's dealer.
My stomach clenches in disgust as I take in the sight in front of me.
His pants hang low on his thighs, the zipper gaping open, revealing his erection.
He has one hand on the doorframe, supporting his weight, while the other grips his shaft tightly, stroking himself as he stares at me.
His greasy, blonde hair hangs limply over one side of his face, the sides shaved close to his scalp .
"Oh my God!" I scream, horrified, bringing my hand up to my mouth in shock. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. "What the fuck are you doing?!"
Before I can say another word, Corey groans loudly, his eyes rolling back as he reaches his climax. The first rope of sticky cum lands on my robe, staining the fabric. The rest of it splatters across the tops of my bare feet, causing me to jump back in disgust.
"What the actual fuck, Corey?!" I shout, and I feel my cheeks burning with rage.
I stand there in disbelief, unable to process what just happened. Who the fuck does something like this? My stomach churns, I turn my head to try to keep myself from gagging when I feel Corey’s warm cum running down between my toes.
Corey leans further into my room, his smirk widening as he looks me up and down. The disgust on my face seems to amuse him, and he makes no move to zip up his pants, clearly feeling entitled to stand there half-naked, leering at me.
"Don't pretend like a little cum bothers you." I can’t stand his smug attitude. "I know what you do in there.” He points inside of my bedroom towards my bed. “You think I don’t hear you? Your little moans. You think I don’t know what a filthy little slut you are?”
I take a step back, trying to put some distance between us. No, no one was ever supposed to know what my mother makes me do for money.
“What’s wrong, little girl?” he says with mock concern in his voice.
He takes a step forward as far as he can with his pants still around his thighs.
His eyes roam over my body like a lion sizing up their prey, lingering too long on where my robe is tied at my waist. “Cat got your tongue, Sweet Lottie?”
Oh my God, he knows my username on the cam site .
I feel exposed, like there isn't anything he doesn't know about me or hasn’t seen. I cross my arms in front of my chest, hugging the robe tightly to my body like a shield, trying to hide the crack in my armor. I can’t let him see how much he’s affecting me.
I have to stand up to him. I lift my chin and force myself to meet his eyes.
“Get out.” My voice is steady, but inside, I’m panicking.
“No can do, Sweet Lottie. Your momma owes me a lot of money. And I think it’s time I collected on her debt.
” His eyes flick to the laptop still sitting open on my desk, and I feel the blood drain from my face.
He knows, he knows everything my mother makes me do.
“It sounded like you were having a lot of fun in here. How about we have a little fun of our own? Just you and me.”
Shaking my head, I take another step back, feeling trapped. “Get. Out.” I repeat, no longer able to hide the tremor in my voice.
Corey takes another step toward me. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I know you’re a dirty little thing. Your momma’s loose pussy isn’t that fun to fuck anymore.” He reaches out, sliding one finger up the inside of my thigh. “But this pussy… Goddamn! That would be a hell of a ride.”
“Get your fucking hands off me and get out!” I scream in his face, shoving his hand away, but it does nothing to stop him. He only smiles and advances further, backing me into the corner of my room.
I feel the wall at my back, and I press myself against it as hard as I can. My heart is pounding like a drum in my chest knowing I have no way out of this.
"Such a feisty little thing," he purrs, reaching for me again. "You can't tell me you don't want it. I've seen the way you look at me, all the times your momma has brought me home. You're just like her, aren't you? A little slut, hungry for it."
"I'm nothing like her. And I don't want you touching me.
Get out!" I slap my hands against his chest, pushing as hard as I can, but it's useless.
Corey is strong despite his sickly appearance.
This close I can see his pockmarked skin and the dark circles framing sunken eyes that appear far too big for his gaunt face.
"Oh, I think you do want it. You’re just a little fucking tease.” In a swift movement, he grabs my left wrist and twists it with such force that I hear an audible snap. A blood curdling scream that I don’t even recognize as my own escapes me as pain sears through my arm.
"You just need a little encouragement," he continues, his voice sickeningly calm. "And since your momma hasn't paid up, I'll just take it from you. One way or another I'll get what's owed to me. Now get on your fucking knees and pay up.”
I drop to my knees, and I feel the vomit start to rise in my throat. I don't know if it's from the pain shooting through my broken wrist or the thought of what I'm about to endure.
Corey leans over me, "Suck my cock," he growls, blowing his hot, rancid, breath into my face. "Like the good little whore you are." My stomach churns at his words, but I know I have no choice. "And if you so much as think about biting me, I'll break your other fucking wrist. Do you understand?"
I nod slowly, feeling the hot tears stream down my cheeks. The pain in my broken wrist is unbearable. "Yes," I whisper.
I lean in and close my eyes, willing myself not to think about what I'm about to do. I can't breathe through my nose, the stench of him is too overpowering. I feel his hands tangling roughly in my hair as I part my lips and take the tip of his flaccid dick into my mouth.
Before I can begin to even think about moving my head, he grips my hair tightly, yanking my head up. I cry out in pain as I feel some of the hair tear from my scalp. "I said suck my cock, now fucking suck it!" He pulls my hair tighter, forcing my head closer to his groin .
The smell of him—sweat, stale cigarettes, mixed with something rancid—wafts toward me, making my stomach rebel. I don't know how I'm going to get through this. I don't know—
But before I can finish the thought, my mouth is flooded with the taste of him. A bitter tang mingles with the sour smell of his sweat.
"What the hell is going on in here?" The sound of my mother's shrill voice echoes through the room and my stomach rebels.
I can't pinpoint exactly what triggered it.
Maybe it was the feeling of his limp dick hitting my tongue, the horrible smell, or the sound of my mother's voice.
Possibly a combination of all three. But I can feel the vomit rise in my throat, unable to stop the surge.
I try to pull away, but his grip on my hair is too tight.
There's nowhere for the vomit to go. It sprays out around his cock, hot and acidic.
The next few moments are a blur. He releases my hair as I sputter and gag, trying to catch my breath. I can’t make sense of what's happening when I’m suddenly being ripped away from Corey. My mother’s nails digging into my skin.
The sting of her slap snaps my head to the side. Her eyes are bloodshot and wild, her hands balled into fists at her sides. She’s high. I cower against my bed, trying to protect my wrist and make myself as small as possible, hoping to somehow disappear.
"How could you!” she spits. “I knew I couldn't trust you!"
I don’t respond, I just curl into a ball on the floor, trying to protect myself from her blows. The room spins and my vision blurs as I sob, overwhelmed by the chaos and agony.
Her words cut deep. I don’t know why. I should be used to it by now. I can’t remember a time I’ve ever been treated with anything close to love or affection. I am her biggest mistake, and not a day has gone by that she hasn’t reminded me of that .
"Oh, come on, Sabrina," Corey's amused voice breaks through the haze. "You don't have to do all that. You know she can't help being a whore. She takes after you. Like mother, like daughter." He shoves his dick back into his pants not even bothering to clean up and I gag again.
"How much money did you make tonight?"
"W-what?"
She stumbles closer, her tone sharp and accusatory. "You heard me. How much money did you make tonight?"
"I-I was up to almost four hundred before..." I trail off, unable to meet her eyes.
"Before what?"
"Before he interrupted." My voice is small, like a child's, and I hate myself for it.
"Get your ass up and get back to work and clean this fucking mess up." Her eyes dart to the puddle of vomit on the floor. "God, you're disgusting."
"I-I can't," I whisper. I gesture weakly to my wrist, fresh tears stinging my eyes. "Corey broke my wrist."
She rolls her eyes, dismissing my injury with a wave of her hand. "It's just a sprain, stop being such a baby. You're not hurt that bad." Her voice is cold, devoid of any maternal warmth. "Just pop a couple of aspirin. And for God's sake, clean yourself up. You're a mess."
Slowly, with my good hand, I push myself up from the floor, wincing at the pain.
I take a moment to steady myself, trying to ignore the stares of both Corey and my mother.
I can't look at either of them, so I focus on my wrist. It hurts too much to move, so I carefully cradle it to my chest as I stand.
Tears stream down my cheeks, but I don't bother to wipe them away .
Without a word, I brush past them and stumble into the bathroom, the shock finally giving way to a surge of agony as the numbness wears off.
The room swims around me, and I lean against the bathroom counter for support, my good hand fumbling for the aspirin.
I shake a couple of pills into my palm, dry swallowing them, needing the pain in my wrist to stop, and my heart.
Just a few more days, and then I'm free.