I'd used too many drugs. I was so thin. I'd decided to clean up my act some. I wore my skinny sleeveless black top and my tight black trousers. I loved them.
I'd thought of going to the gym. My hair was big - dark and wavy. I guess I looked quite cute. Fuckable. That was what I wanted. I'd let myself go. Did my belly stick out? I held it in when I could remember. I wasn't so drunk, not after hanging around all might. Dancing.
Nobody seemed to notice I exist. I was really disappointed. I was tired. I wondered how people get each other. I was angry, so I hung around at the bus stop in the cold. I was shivering. I thought of taking a taxi.
He was sitting in his car for some time. The car drew up to the bus stop but he just sat there. I saw him and I thought I saw him looking at me. I wasn't sure. I so wanted fucking. I was angry. He didn't move.
There was a bus. It had to steer round his car and I think the bus driver found that annoying, this black guy with really big muscles I could see through his shirt as I put my foot on the door to get in. There was this light so I looked from the driver towards this light.
How did he know I'd see him?
I wasn't sure and I was fed up with people playing around so I got on the bus. The bus driver ignored me. It was difficult walking when the bus lurched forward and I fell or sort of ran towards the back of the bus and saw his headlights flash once or twice as we moved away from him. I put my face up to the window and watched him. He saw me and flashed a couple more times, and then he started following me.
The bus stopped a few times and each time he drew to a halt behind the bus and flashed his lights. I watched him continuously. He wanted me. I was excited. I knelt on the back seat, watching him. He seemed to be watching me directly.
Finally I thought, "I'm going to get out at the next stop and see what he's doing." I got out at the next stop. I smiled at him just before I got out. I thought he might see me do that and get that I was coming to him.
I saw him overtake the bus so I was left like a goon standing in the night, not anywhere and not anybody anywhere. The cold air and light mist made it very quiet so I heard him come up - he'd driven round the block I think. I felt a surge of pride - I'd caught him - and a surge of excitement - he wanted me. The car drew up and the window was already down.
"Get in," he said, looking at me. I went up to the door and put my face in the window.
"I'm ______," I said and gave him a false name.
"Get in," he said. He reached across the passenger seat and opened the door himself, looking me in the eye. He smirked. What a nice guy. Friendly. Clean. Good body, I think. He was looking at me.
"What's up?" he said.
"Where are we going?"
"My place, your place, somewhere nice. You tell me."
"How far to your place?"
"Aren't you cold? Get in. Warm up."
I pulled the door fully open and got in. We were heading in the direction of my place. As we approached my turning I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and said "Erm..."
"What's the problem?"
"Where are we going?" I said.
The car drew to a halt by the kerb next to a large expanse of grass. I saw someone sitting out there, in the gloom, just sitting there.
He put on the handbrake and put an arm behind me, cradling my neck and stroking my neck with one gentle finger. He leaned closer towards me and was about to speak but I wanted to kiss him so I pushed my face towards his and put my tongue in his mouth. He sucked on it really hard. Christ, that hurt! He was sucking so hard I couldn't pull back. It was really hurting me. His hand on my neck pushed my face into his and his other hand found my prick.
It was like dinner for two in there.
He opened his fly and pulled it out, released my tongue and pushed me down to it. I did my best to please him. I wanted him to be satisfied with me. There was a smell of sweat and some smell of piss there. He kept me on him for some time. He started talking. "Back to my place," he said. "It's about an hour from here. I'll be able to relax and we'll have a good time."
I didn't think about it any more.
During the journey out of one part of town into another I tried talking once or twice but he ignored me more or less completely. I got the message. He didn't want to talk. He placed my hand around his dick and I held on to it for most of the journey though it often went soft.
When we got there he said, "This is it," and we got out.
"Don't slam the door." It was a residential area. Even quieter than before if that was possible, in the pale dim glow of morning. Sunrise was still some time away. He looked at me over the roof of the car and almost laughed. He was grinning so I smiled back.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Your hair."
"Too big?"
"No, it's nice. Very ... big, yeh."
We walked up to the door with me in front so he guided me towards it and had reach round and press into me to unlock the door. I felt his hand hold lightly onto my arm and I tried to push myself back into him so I could feel him all over me from the back. His hand tightened on my arm. Ow. I flinched. He didn't let go.
"Get in," he said, using me to open the unlocked door by pushing me into it. I hit my nose on the glass. Ouch. The door opened and he kind of guided my by my painfully tightly held arm down a clean carpeted corridor and into a sitting room with soft brown sofas - covered in velveteen.
"Coffee?" he said.
"Yes, please."
He kissed me and stroked my arm where the marks of his fingers showed red.
"That's right," he said.
The club shop is almost empty at this time of night.
When he came back with two coffees he sat down in one of the sofas, still holding both coffees without spilling them, and motioned me to come towards him. I had just been standing there, in the middle of the room. I didn't know what to do.
I was going to sit down on one of the sofas next to him. "No," he said, "kneel down here on the floor in front of me." So I did. He gave me my coffee.
"Can I go to the toilet please?" I said when the first sip of coffee passed my lips.
"You don't need to go to the toilet. You aren't a school kid. Its nervous."
I think he was right, though I was aware of my bladder from now on. I don't like being uncomfortable. He put his coffee down. It wasn't hardly touched. I was drinking mine, feeling his eyes looking at me. I was shy so I looked down at the space between his feet, where there was a dark shadow underneath the sofa.
"Here," he said, indicating his crotch with one finger. I put my coffee down on the carpet and leaned forward, put my arms on his knees to support myself.
"Not like that. Don't touch me."
I didn't know what to do with my hands and my arms. I was worried I was going to fall forward. I put my hands behind my back and they held on to each other so I could bend right forward, until my face was almost right on him. Then I lost it and I fell right forward and my nose went right into him.
He was angry. He lifted himself up and I managed to get myself back almost upright.
"Fucking cunt," he said.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Not you," he said. I didn't know what he meant. I guess he was just swearing.
"Try again."
This time I was able to lower my head and rest it against him. I could feel the shape of his cock on my face. My lips were pressing on his scrotum.
He started drinking his coffee again, I think, and I heard the TV go on but the sound went down almost immediately. His hard-on grew until I didn't know where it stopped.
After a bit he started tapping my head, clipping the ear.
"Wake, wake."
What did he want?
He reached down and pushed my head to one side so he could open himself up and get his cock out. I got my face on to it and started giving him a blowjob. Every now and then he would hold my head to get me doing it the way he wanted it. After a bit he came in my mouth, groaning and cursing as he did so. I had to swallow quickly.
He switched off the TV and got up. I knelt back on my heels. He went out and came back with something he put around my wrists so I couldn't move them. Then he switched the light off and left the room.
I was alone.
The only light was the standby from the TV and a narrow line, which broadened underneath the curtains as the dawn grew outside.
I just knelt there. I didn't know what to do. I was sure he was coming back again - well it stood to reason that he had to some back before too long. It was his house. Where was he?
I noticed a clock.
Eventually I rolled over and fell into a kind of sleep.
Have you ever been hurt?
I heard him shower. I had been asleep. It was day. Brilliant sunshine reflected off the windowsills illuminated the whole room. I was warm. I was surprised. He must have gone to bed.
He was coming in. I quickly knelt up again and looked at him.
"What are you staring at?" he demanded. He was really angry. He was wearing a bathrobe.
The feeling in my bladder came back almost immediately.
"I need the toilet badly."
"I'll tell you when you need the toilet," he said. "You don't need the toilet. You need discipline, self-control. Now I want you to lick clean my feet, like you always should when I enter the door and don't look me in the eye. Do as I tell you!"
I looked at the ground and crawled over to where his feet were. I did my best to lick them the best I could. I guess he trusted me to tell him if I had any pressing appointments that day forcing me to leave. He never asked. He got me on my front and fucked me really viciously, punching his prick into my backside and holding my arms so they were in real pain and afterwards I sucked his horn really gratefully and would do anything.
I couldn't take any more.
He led me into the black room and put me on the machine thing and I submitted to him again and again.
Eventually he held my hair and pulled it and stroked it and pulled his fingers through it, looking me in the eye and forcing me to look at him.
"I'm so sick," he said, "of this fucking girl/boy shit on your head."
"Cut it!" I cried. "Please! Sir! Shave it off. I don't like it anymore. I'm sick of it too. Shave it off. Please!"
"That's your hair ______," he said. "It's your decision. It took some time to grow."
"Please," I whispered, crying.
"Please what?"
"Sir," I said.
Back in those days, I was a lot weaker then. I can take more harm now before breaking, if I ever break. He has hardened me. Back then I couldn't stop crying and the thick black hair fell on my smooth skin of my narrow shoulders and dropped down onto my legs like the water taken from a black river. He sat and watched whilst I used the buzzy clippers to make a start. Then I used the razor to clean off the last little bit. I felt my head over and over and over just to make sure no little straggly bits of hair got left on my head.
"Might as well do the rest," he said.
I took the razor to my pubic hair above my penis, over the balls and down below me to my ass. He watched as I contorted to clean the hair out of my ass crack. My dick was stiff a bit of the time.
"Pits."
I'd wondered about them.
It took some time. He watched until I was finished, then he told me tidy up and to put my clothes back on. They were cold and wet from when he said "piss now," earlier, before I was exhausted and needed desperately to piss or I would be in too much discomfort to be physically able to do anything. I did as I was told and pissed on my clothes where they lay on the floor and pissed in my shoes. Now everything was freezing cold.
He grabbed me and pointed me towards a mirror.
"Look at yourself. That's what you are."
I was shivering.