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Rachel's Debt (Chapter 6 - The Source)

2023-01-24 00:09:32

“You dirty little slut.”

Rachel giggled, “Well, that’s rude.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“You think I don’t recognize that? That bow-legged ass walk that says you got yourself some king-sized dick last night.”

“Becky, keep your voice down.”

“Girl, you aren’t exactly being subtle about it. I guess that’s why you’re back together, ain’t it? I never guessed Ryan had it in him and I certainly didn’t guess you’d ever have it in you. I figured you’d be wearing a white dress still at your own funeral.”

Rachel lowered her head, stifling a smile before confiding conspiratorially, “It wasn’t Ryan, and I still,” glancing around and lowering her voice, “might end up in that white dress. Technically.” We passed by Mr. Simmons, our high school guidance counselor. He was standing in the hall as we made our way to lunch. Being around him always seemed to creep me out; I always felt like he was undressing me with his eyes. Rachel, who I would assume had it much worse as the de facto wet dream supreme amongst our high school class, saw him and smiled. “Hi, Mr. Simmons.”

“Well, hello, Rachel.” He wasn’t even subtle. His eyes went straight to the (low) neckline of her blouse, staring down her shirt before gazing appreciatively at her ass as we passed him. I sneered at him to let him know I saw him but he merely grinned back at me, winking once before diverting his gaze towards Ms. Lingett, one of our (well-endowed) English teachers.

It being lunchtime, most of the students were headed to the cafeteria. I pulled Rachel aside, into an alcove near the library. Grabbing her face and pulling it towards me, I near shouted into her forehead, “Alright, you fucking pod person, give me back my friend, or else.”

Rachel pulled away, smiling beautifully (so what? I’m young, curious, and if you had seen her, you’d want her, too). She laughed heartily, placing one well-manicured hand on my arm. Her hand seemed to sizzle, or vibrate, or…something. It was hard to describe, and although we’ve touched before (not like, well, you know. Sadly), I had never felt that way before. Not from her, not from anyone. There was something fiercely intimate in that touch. Sexual. Powerful. I wanted to grab her, kiss her. “What are you going on about?”

“You come walking down the halls looking like you just got in from a 6 day trail ride and yet, as far as I, your best friend in the entire world, the woman you tell everything to, knows, you broke up with Ryan and aren’t seeing anyone else. There’s talk of some pretty interesting video of you going around the school. You tell me you’re a virgin, technically, which means, if my slut deductions are correct, that you found the biggest dick you could and did something with him that even I don’t do often.” She blushed, but it only made her prettier. “And worst of all, I catch you making eyes with Mr. Simmons. MR. SIMMONS.”

“He’s not really that bad.”

“Not that bad? Have you seen the way he looks at you? At pretty much every developed girl around? That man is one dark alley away from rape, and you know it.” Her smile softened as her eyes hardened, still not losing that shine, but clearly letting me know I had crossed some sort of line. “Alright, alright, but I’m right about the other part, right?” Her cheeks reddened further, until they almost matched the shade of my hair. “Well? Are you going to tell me who this mystery guy is?”

“Come on, let’s go grab some lunch, and then I’ll tell you all about him. Promise.”

A few minutes later, sitting at the end of the table at the far back of the cafeteria, Rachel leaned forward over her food and, in a near whisper, asked, “So, you remember a couple weeks ago, after Jason’s party?”

“I remember Jason trying to get into my panties, and Alan having a lot more success in that regard.”

“You’re such a slut. Anyways, I was driving home and I rear-ended some guy. I had been drinking and, well…we made an exchange…so he wouldn’t call the police.”


Rachel blushed. Not able to meet my eyes, she busied herself picking imaginary bits of lint from her shirt. “You know…sex,” she finally whispered.

I grabbed her wrist, squeezing, “Okay, we’re leaving right now. You know my sister is a lawyer, we’ll talk to her, press charges, we’ll make sure he spends the rest of his life in prison for what he did to you.”

“Okay, slooooow doooowwwn. Let me finish.”

“I’ll try, but what you’re saying sounds an awful lot like rape, you know that, right?”

“I do, just let me finish. I mean, it probably started that way. I don’t know if it’s rape, because I agreed to it. Coercion, maybe, is that a thing? Anyways, he made me record a confession, kind of like an agreement, or contract. Saying that I had been drinking, I hit his truck, and that I would be providing him with…well, you know, in order to pay him back and keep my parents, and the police, from finding out.”

“Coercion, rape, blackmail, whatever it is, it’s still a pretty shitty thing to do.” Rachel stared me down until my anger cooled. “Sorry, go on.”

“Well…it started out that way. He made me give him a blowjob, but like, really rough. I’d done it a few times with Ryan, but not like that. It was like he was…masturbating with my face, you know?”

“Facefucking…and yes, I do know. It’s fun when you’re with the right guy.”

Rachel laughed. “Of course, you’ve done it, why am I surprised.” I shrugged, smiling and winking at her. She laughed back, that friendly warmth returning to her face. “And then…I don’t remember how long I’d been seeing him,” I raised my eyebrows at her mention of seeing him, but let her continue, “we discovered something about me. Something I really liked, and well, it’s hard to explain, but…”

“What’s so hard about it? You had an explosive orgasm when he fucked you in the ass, and now you’re developing Stockholm Syndrome because you think he’s so in tune with you to be able to recognize your affinity for butt stuff. In reality, he’s just a guy who wanted to put his dick in a hot teenager’s damn-near perfect ass, and by lucky chance, for him, you enjoyed it.”

I watched as the warmth drained from her face, quickly replaced by a cool, questioning look. I wasn’t sure how yet, but I had the distinct feeling I had fucked up. She pursed her lips, considering me. “Becky,” she said coolly. I did not like the sound of her voice when she said my name. “Did you watch those videos?” Oops. I didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, but the mirthful smile that crossed her face was evidence enough that she already knew what I couldn’t say out loud. “I really should’ve known.”

“I’m really sorry,” I blurted out.

“It’s okay, I mean half the school-“

“It’s just that when I heard there were videos of you, I couldn’t believe it. I had to watch, to make sure that wasn’t my best friend. And then…”

“And then what?” Her arms were crossed over her chest, her hip cocked to one side, a playful look of accusation across her face. At that point, she looked like a mom who had caught her kid covered in chocolate, patiently expecting a creative, but obviously false, concoction as to how he had come to be so without having raided the cookie jar.

“Well, it’s just that…you looked so…do you know how hard it is to find good porn when you’re as depraved as I am?”

This actually brought a giggle to her lips, “Becky, keep your voice down.” A pause. “Was it really that good?”

“Oh honey, there are AVN awards in your future if you want them.”

“AVN?” For being one of the sexiest women in school, it was cute that she could be so remarkably unaware about sex.

“Never mind, forgot you have, up until very recently, virgin ears. The point is, you could have a long, illustrious career in porn if you had the mind to. You obviously have the body for it.” It no longer even seemed like a surprise for her to catch me checking her out, and I found I couldn’t mention her body without taking a moment to appreciate it. Oftentimes, it seemed like she was posing, pushing her breasts out or cocking her hips to display all her feminine curves for my benefit. Maybe she was.

My eyes back on her face, I noticed she looked pensive again. “So, even the…” dropping her voice even lower and leaning in far enough that I could breathe in her perfume, “RJ video? I just felt so dirty after that.”

“Well, shit, babe, you should. You’ve been…whatever the hell you want to call what you two have going on, for a couple weeks now? I know you want to get to my level, and you will, but pace yourself. You can’t go from blowjobs to eating ass, just like that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Rimjobs. That’s what an RJ is, Rachel. And, for what worth a giant slut’s opinion is, it is better to receive than to give.” She was laughing again, almost doubled over at my explanation. “Ohhh, I see. You lose your virginity and a week later you’re questioning me…MY KNOWLEDGE…on sex?”

“No, no, that’s not it. I’m sorry,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I’m sorry, RJ is his nephew.”

Now I was reeling. “RJ? RJ Hane?” She nodded her head. “You had sex with RJ Hane?” I couldn’t control myself, I was practically yelling by the end of it. Rachel punched me in the arm, hard.

“Keep your voice down, idiot.”

“Shit, sorry. But seriously, I think I’d prefer the older guy blackmailing you, what were you doing with RJ?”

“Nothing. I made some comment about him, I didn’t know it was his uncle. He was asking about the accident, I said I knew the guys in it. I, well, I’m pretty sure I insulted him, so the next thing I know, he’s making me finger myself on his bed, moaning his nephew’s name into the camera.”

Something didn’t add up. I had watched my friend get facefucked. I had been quite proud of how well she was able to take a cock to the back of her throat even. I had watched her strung up and punished, and I could remember how wet my pussy had gotten hearing her screams, imagining me in her place, with Rachel applying a belt to my exposed skin. I had watched her have an absolutely earth-shaking orgasm from anal. The one thing I hadn’t seen, and believe me, I’d have been playing it on repeat if I had, was my gorgeous friend touching herself, making herself cum. I wondered idly what camera angle he had used. Did he pan out over her whole body, or did he zoom in tight on what I could only imagine was a pretty, pink pussy?


Shaken from my reverie and feeling guilty that she somehow knew what I’d been thinking, I turned away rapidly, accidentally knocking the tray from a freshman girl. “Sorry about that.” Turning back to Rachel, “Well, it’s about that time. We should probably be getting to class, what do you say?”

“What do you say?” Who even are you? Who talks like that?”

Still, she got up and departed the lunchroom with me, walking silently side by side to our shared math class. I had no way of knowing, and was a little too preoccupied to care, that she sat next to me during that class planning on giving away her virginity that night. I was lost in thought wondering about that missing video.


“You have a TV in your bedroom still, right?” He nodded. “Well, why don’t you go set up your camera in the bedroom and find us something to watch, I’m ready.”

“Ready for?” He trailed off, the air thick with expectation. I stepped closer to him, pulling his hand down below my skirt. He caressed my thigh, slowly raising his hands up my leg, savoring in the look on his face as he realized I wasn’t wearing panties. His eyes drew even wider as his fingers brushed against my pussy lips, his fingers coming away practically soaked in my juices. “Oh. Well you can Netflix if you want, but I don’t know that there’s a lot of chill in your immediate future.”

I giggled. “I was actually thinking something more adult. I want to watch you fuck my ass while you take the last of my virginity.”

“Really? And why is that?” The smirk on his face said he already knew why, but he was going to make me say it out loud anyways. A few weeks ago, I might not have been able to.

“Because it turns me on.”

He laughed, heartily, bringing his still wet fingers up to my face, “I don’t know, if you ask me I’d say you’re pretty turned on already.”

I took his fingers and placed them against my mouth. Staring into his eyes, I wrapped my lips around them, slowly taking more of his fingers, still wet from my pussy, into my mouth. Licking my way across them as I pulled them from my mouth, I asked him in my best seductive voice, “And how do you think I got so turned on?” His eyes widened. “I was thinking about that first night we met. When I hit your car, and you made me come in here.” I pulled him closer, kissing his neck. “You stripped me down.” Began unbuttoning his shirt. “Put me on my knees and made me suck on that huge cock of yours.” I pulled his shirt off him, going to work on his belt. “Then, when you couldn’t wait any longer, you grabbed my head and fucked my face.” I yanked the belt from his pants, doubling it up and slapping it playfully against my cheek. “I couldn’t breathe, but you held me down anyways. I thought I was going to die. Thought my final moments were going to be spent sucking some stranger’s cock.” No longer trying to be seductive, I moaned low and throatily. “I want you to fuck me like that tonight. No regard for me, just take your pleasure from my body.”

His breathing was rapid and shallow now as he took my hand and dragged me towards the bedroom, barely giving me enough time to get my feet back underneath me. Reaching the open door, he pulled me ahead of him and threw me onto his bed. He slid out of his pants, pulling his boxers down with them, revealing his massive erection. As he tried to climb onto the bed over me, I pushed him away. “Ah ah ah. Camera first. I think I’m going to want to save this moment, don’t you?” Hastily, he ran to his closet, pulling out a tripod and recorder. I watched with gleeful anticipation as he tried to set up the camera with shaky fingers. Finally, he had it ready, checking to make sure my body was in the frame. Again, he tried crawling towards me, but I pushed him away once more. “And the TV?” With an exasperated sigh, he got back up from the bed. Grabbing his phone from his pants pocket, he turned on the TV. A few seconds later and I was streaming from his phone to the screen in front of me.

I couldn’t help but stare, transfixed, at the woman on the screen. Of course I knew that Alex had changed me, had awaken some part of me that had been hidden so deep inside that I was completely unaware of its existence, but seeing it on screen, getting to watch myself, made it all so much more real. When I had shown up to his house that day, I had hated him. Hated him for what he was making me do, hated that he had offered such a paltry sum for a sex act that most of the women I knew wouldn’t even consider. Hated myself for allowing it.

And then something happened. Something more than just an orgasm with a finger in my ass, although certainly tied to that moment. I realized that (even more than Alex, more than my inability to offer any meaningful resistance) the thing I had hated most was what I was becoming. I had hated the fact that his control was turning me on. Hated that it took nothing more than a command and seeing the red light lit up on his camera to turn me into some kind of sexual animal, eager to please even the most sordid demands. I hated that, even with the welts across my ass making laying down painful, I had ground my ass into the bed that night, my fingers pistoning feverishly at my pussy, making wet, squelching sounds so loud I thought my parents must be able to hear me from the next room, but still not caring as I thought about what he had done to me in that basement dungeon of his.

And then, with his tongue joining my fingers at my pussy, one solitary finger buried knuckle deep in my ass, I came. Hard. Harder than I had ever cum from my own ministrations, certainly harder than Ryan had ever managed with his inexperienced fingers and lackluster tongue. I came, and as I saw the fingernail marks I had left on him, I understood…something. That may not be the right word, I technically still don’t understand what exactly happened, only that I had forgiven myself in that moment for enjoying such depravity. Or maybe it was that I finally realized that I needed no forgiveness. I had finally experienced the kind of sex I didn’t even know that I was looking for. It was dirty, it was hot, it was not entirely of my own will, and it was submissive to a man that, until that moment, I couldn’t stand. And I. LOVED. IT.

I watched as that young vixen, so newly accepting of her own sexuality, winked at the camera (winked at me) before nearly inhaling the cock in front of her. I watched and smiled, waiting for that same man that I had, up until recently (perhaps up until just before that video was taken) hated to take the last of my virginity. To take me.


I wasn’t exactly known for my conservative dress. I still bore the emotional scars of middle school, from before I had developed breasts. Back then, I hadn’t had nice tits and a few extra pounds. To my classmates, I was just fat. It hadn’t helped that my best friend, breasts or no breasts, was easily the most attractive girl in school. Next to her, everyone looked ugly. Even as I developed, standing next to Rachel made everyone forget my new-found body. Transfixed by her, I was still Becky the Buffalo. She had never had to rely on her body like I did. She certainly could have, if she wanted to, it’s just that she had a face and some kind of internal radiance that made revealing clothing unnecessary. She could’ve picked up the Pope in a bar wearing a parka. I, on the other hand, had found that to stop the negative comments about my body required showing a lot more of it. At least certain parts of it.

So it was that my wardrobe was made up of perilously low-cut blouses, tank tops, and button-ups that never found the top three buttons done up. Still, I had popped open another button as I drove slowly up the drive. I hoped his parents weren’t home. My shirt was open enough to see the bottom of both cups of my full bra, and I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the judging stares of his mother or father.

I pulled up to the house and shut my car off, remaining inside. Checking myself in the mirror, I felt a momentary pang of guilt and self-loathing. In my darkest moments, I knew I was simply using my body (and letting quite a few others use my body) to get myself the kind of attention I had desired ever since first hearing the phrase “Becky the Buffalo.” I wanted affection, I wanted love, and I knew that what I was getting was far from it, but it was the closest I knew how to get right now. Still, this, today, felt dirty. Several deep breaths and I was finally ready. I got out of the car and walked to the front door on still-shaky legs. Standing on the front porch, I wanted to turn and run. Maybe he hadn’t heard my car pull in. Maybe I could drive off before he could get to the door, even if he had heard. Then I remembered why I was doing this. I knocked. Hesitantly, at first, and then harder, trying to inject a confidence I didn’t feel into it.

No answer. No movement from inside. It was completely silent, except for my raspy breathing. Salvation. I had been so worried that someone else might be home with him that I never even considered that he might not be home himself. My face lit up and I half-danced, half-turned back towards my car when I heard the door open behind me.

“What do you want?” His tone of voice, angry, accusatory, left it pretty obvious he had already identified me.

“Oh, RJ, I didn’t think you were…Well, I just…are your parents home? Can I come in?”

He scoffed, regarding me with angry eyes. Eyes that, surprisingly, never left my own. I found myself briefly questioning if my shirt had buttoned itself back up. It was either that or he hated me enough that the near unobstructed view of my full tits did nothing to abate that anger. “No, they aren’t, which means that if you’re here to accuse me of ruining poor Demarious’s life, I can beat your fat ass with my crutches and no one will be here to stop me. So if I were you, I’d just leave.”

It wasn’t hard conjuring up a hurt look; I was actually hurt by his words. I tried to fight back tears and thought I had managed it successfully until I opened my mouth to speak. Then, tears or not, no one could mistake my sadness as my voice broke, “I…I deserved that.” He moved to slam the door in my face. “But you didn’t,” I called out. He stopped, holding the door open. “Look, I know that people have given you a lot of shit about that, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” He rolled his eyes. Clearly, it wasn’t much. “I know I’ve been, well, not the best towards you in the past, but…hearing about the accident, and then seeing you that first day you were able to come back to school, needing a wheelchair to get around…It just made me reconsider a lot of things.”

He sighed, long and heavy, his eyes dropping momentarily to my exposed chest. Looking like he fully expected to regret this, he swung the door wider. “It’s just me here. If you wanted to come talk, I guess I can hear you out.”



I laughed, knowing where this was going. He was poised between my spread legs His cock was dripping with need and yet, just as he had done before taking my ass, he wanted to make sure I was ready, letting me know it would hurt. I turned to the TV, watching, waiting for on-screen Alex to softly call my name. Almost perfectly in-time with TV me, I cooed, “Yes, baby?”

He laughed, smiled, bent down to kiss me, his cock brushing against my thigh, leaving a trail of pre-cum down it. “I suppose you already know what I’m going to say then, huh?”

“And you know what I’m going to do.” I reached down and grabbed his cock, guiding it to my entrance, the last privacy my body retained, ready to give it all up.

“Rachel, I-“

“Shh, don’t say it. It doesn’t count when you’re about to fuck me…But, I know. And I-“

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he inched his cock into me. He stopped at my hymen. Still a gentleman, but right now, I didn’t need a gentleman. I just needed him inside me as I rose to meet him, a sharp cry as he tore through my hymen before the room around me exploded in lights and sounds.


“Ahh, so there it is. Finally, we get to the truth of the matter. You don’t care about me, you’re here because Rachel sent you.”

I wasn’t very subtle in my wardrobe, apparently I wasn’t in my conversation either, and it seemed that my attempt at trumping one of those issues with the other wasn’t working. He had barely even glanced at my tits. “Okay, I’ll be honest with you. I am here, partially, because of Rachel, but she didn’t send me. And I do think you’ve gotten a bad break over all this.” He scowled at me. “Okay, bad choice of words, but I do think you’ve been treated unfairly. I just…lacked the courage…or decency…or whatever it is…to say it to you.”

“And you think if you come here and flash your tits at me, I’ll what? What do you even want from me?”

“Well,” I said, unbuttoning the rest of my shirt. “I actually had more in mind than just flashing you, but…I want to know what you know about those videos of Rachel.”

He seemed visibly unnerved, dropping his eyes to my chest. I could tell from his nervous gestures that he wasn’t deriving any sexual pleasure from the sight, it was just a way to avoid my gaze. “What makes you think I know anything about that? I mean, I’ve seen them, but that’s it.”

“I guess I’m kind of grasping at straws here. I had heard from a few people that you might know something about them. I happen to know that she made another video, one that I haven’t seen going around the school yet. I just thought you might know something about where they came from, or where I could find this elusive video?”

His eyes were back on mine, searching me, studying. “Wait, you’ve watched them?”

“Oh my god, you haven’t? Look, she’s my best friend, but you can’t spend that much time around her without wanting to see…well, you know.” I could feel him relaxing in my presence. I knew he was attracted to Rachel, mostly because everyone in our school seemed to be, but opening up about my own attraction to her seemed to allow him to open up to me.

“She is pretty fucking hot, isn’t she?”

“Ugh, it’s unfair, really. Do you know how hard it is to get a guy to notice me when she’s standing next to me?”

He moved a little closer to me, staring down my open shirt. He reached hesitantly for one of my breasts before dropping his hand back down. “I don’t know, I think you’re pretty sexy, too.”

I giggled flirtatiously. I knew I had him now. “Oh, you’re just saying that because you’re staring at my big, full tits, aren’t you? Typical man,” I said with a laugh, “you’ll say anything to get your hands on them.” I reached behind me, unclasping my bra but letting it hang from my shoulders. Excitement rose like a wave across his face. “Want to kiss them?” I pulled one bra strap from my shoulder, then the other. He moaned as I exposed what I was sure were the first breasts he had seen outside of porn. I pulled him closer, guiding his face towards my chest. “Oh, my nipples are so sensitive. You want to suck on them, don’t you?”

He nodded vigorously, reaching out a hand to squeeze one of my breasts, his lips parting as he bent towards me. I pushed him away, grabbing his wrist and pinning it to my thigh. “First,” I told him, staring into his eyes, reaching my other hand towards the obvious bulge in his pants. “You tell me where I might be able to find that last video. Maybe,” squeezing his erection through his pants, “we could even watch it together.”


Was it possible to have an orgasm just from penetration? Did most women do that when they lost their virginity? Several of my friends had said that it hurt the first time. It did hurt, but it was the most wonderful pain, followed by an exquisite fullness unlike anything I had ever experienced. For a moment, I felt like my entire existence was bound up and contained in my pussy. Nothing else existed, nothing else mattered, except the waves of pleasure I felt originating there before cascading through the rest of my body.

Slowly, the lights faded, the sounds dulled, and the room came back into focus. Alex was in between my spread legs, on top of me. Inside of me. I smiled up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss as he slowly moved inside of me. We both laughed as a beautiful blonde woman who felt so far away from who I was asked from the TV, “Why are you fucking stopping?”

“She’s got a point, you know?” I nodded at the TV. “I’m not a delicate little flower. You can take me. Use me. Fuck me as hard as you want. I can take it.”

He pulled all the way out of me, his cock poised like a spear. He lowered himself again until it was just pressing against me, ready to impale me on it.

“WAIT!” He paused. I could tell, even without looking at him, that he was staring at me. I was staring at the TV, where Alex savagely thrust his cock deep in my ass. “NOW,” I screamed, raising my hips to meet him as the TV erupted with the sound of my cacophonous orgasm.


Frustrated tears welled up in his eyes. He squeezed them shut. His hand, still pinned under my own, tightened almost painfully, fingernails drawing thin ribbons of blood across my thigh. A terrible thought crept up in the back of my mind. You’ve pushed him too far. Give him what he wants and hope he decides not to hurt you, too. My eyes flicked to the door, then back to his face. He was staring at me, and I was sure he could read the thoughts racing through my brain now. Seeing the look on my face, he let go of me, edging backwards away from me.

His eyes dropped, and what came out of his mouth sounded as pitiful and defeated as anything I’d ever heard. “I don’t know anything about another video.” Tears ran down his face now. “If I did, I’d tell you. Believe me.”

I did.

“RJ?” He still had his back to me and I watched his shoulders heave with his desperate sobs. I had the sudden realization that I wasn’t looking at RJ anymore; I was looking at Becky the Buffalo. Only this Becky hadn’t sprouted breasts, didn’t have anything between her legs that men would pretend to care about her for. This Becky had remained alone. It was RJ standing there again, but not the nerdy kid I had considered worthy of only contempt. I suspected that the man standing in front of me, despite not knowing me, understood me perhaps better than Rachel, my own best friend, did. It was true, though. Rachel had never felt the shame of not fitting in.

Grabbing his hip, I turned him towards me as I gently pressed him towards his bed. The edge dug into the back of his thighs and he collapsed rather clumsily onto it. He laughed nervously; I smiled. Pressing myself forward in between his legs, forcing them to either side of me, I cradled his head towards my chest. I felt his wet cheek against my breast before his mouth quickly latched onto my nipple, sucking vigorously. It was awkward and a bit painful, but I said nothing. Instead, I reached down and began undoing his belt. My breast sprang free from his mouth as he stared into my eyes. “B-Becky, what are you-“

“Shhhh.” His belt gone, I undid his pants. He rocked his hips to allow me to pull both his jeans and his boxers from under him, dropping to my knees as I slid them down his legs. It was only later, much later, that I would identify the feeling I got staring up into his grateful face as I slowly slid my lips down around his cock. It was only lying in bed that night that I would recognize the rush of affection I had felt towards him. Affection…and pride. Two outcasts, managing to come together to find a little bit of happiness, no matter how fleeting.


On TV, Alex had finished with my body. We had orgasmed together, I had cleaned him off, and SCENE. In the bed; however, we were both panting heavily, our bodies rocking, intertwined, chasing each other up the precipice of what felt sure to be a thunderous orgasm. While this one would be more powerful (perhaps even more than the one we had just watched on TV), it wouldn’t be my first orgasm of the evening. During my third, I had the crazy notion to call Becky. Remembering how lamentable her first time had been, I had wanted to get out my phone and, with Alex still on top of me, inside of me, call her. I wasn’t sure if it was to brag or share in the moment with her. Then, almost as quickly as the idea had popped up it was driven away, washed from the shores of her mind by the wave of pleasure cresting over her.


His chest was heaving, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. His answer, “Yeah?” seemed shot from him like a cannonball as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Will you cum with me? I’m so close, baby, come on and cum for me. Oooh yes, cum for me, fill me up.” I clawed at his back, my body arching up to his, biting down on his shoulder. “ALEX, YES. YES, YES, YES, DO IT NOW, CUM FOR ME, BABY!”


It could’ve been minutes or it could’ve been hours later. Our passion spent, Alex had collapsed on top of me, panting furiously as I ran my fingers through his hair. If I had had the presence of mind to wonder about it, I wouldn’t be surprised to note that I had been so lost in my own pleasure I hadn’t noticed if he had indeed finished with me (he had). I was, in fact, not even able to remember that I had asked (nay, demanded) that he did.

His head on my chest now, I could feel his hot breath against my stomach as I softly scratched his scalp. His breathing was calm, content, and eventually gave way to gentle snores. As much as I wanted to bask in our post-coital bliss, I knew I ought to extricate myself and go home. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but I knew it must be getting late and I was dangerously close to falling asleep next to him.

“Alex?” My voice was soft, slightly scratchy. Perhaps it came out softer than I intended. Perhaps I was simply looking for an excuse to stay longer. He stirred, settled himself further against my body, but never woke. I guess five more minutes won’t kill you.


While Becky was at home in her bed wondering if she might, in fact, be developing feelings for me, I was in my own bed convincing myself that there was, indeed, no way that Becky legitimately cared for me. She had claimed to be looking for another video of her best friend, but I suspected she was simply trying to find the person responsible for spreading the videos. Still, she had stayed even after I had told her I couldn’t help her. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t think of anything left for her to gain by sucking my dick at that point. And hadn’t she, for a moment, looked like she was actually looking forward to-STOP. Becky is a slut. That look, whatever it had been, was for getting a cock in her mouth, not MY cock.

Somewhat painfully, I banished the idea that I would ever see Becky again. At least see her like I had today. The thought left, followed by a more puzzling one. Why me? I knew there was no way she could know my role in spreading those videos and whatever I might think about her promiscuity, I couldn’t see her sucking her way through high school looking for the culprit. Something had brought her to my door. Something that made me a likelier candidate, in her eyes at least, than any of the other warm-blooded boys in high school that would also find that bounty too hard to keep to themselves.

Another thought, unbidden, rose up from the depths of my consciousness. The videos had caught a lot of Rachel but not enough to identify her partner. There was something terribly familiar, though, wasn’t there? I couldn’t identify it. Couldn’t even be sure I wasn’t making it up. No, deep beneath that reptilian part of my brain entranced by heaving breasts and sucking lips and throaty moans, there had been…recognition. I puzzled over it for another few minutes before giving it up for the night.

My thoughts returned to Becky. I wasn’t particularly well-endowed, and I was sure that a girl like her didn’t have a gag reflex, but I wished I could’ve watched the tears well up in her eyes as I held her down on my cock. I could only imagine what it would feel like to have her throat spasm around my shaft as she-

Furniture. The thought rose, unbidden, in my mind, followed by a face. It was my uncle’s face. Synapses were firing in my brain now, connecting disparate thoughts, reaching conclusions that couldn’t possibly be true, could they?

I got out of my bed, hobbling as fast as I could to the computer on my desk. Ensuring my speakers were turned down low, I opened one of the videos of Rachel. Whoever it was had some rudimentary computer skills. The videos had clearly been edited, although, in my excited state at finding the videos, this was the first time I had noticed. The man’s face was blurred out and while you could easily hear Rachel’s screams as she was repeatedly beaten with a thin cane, there were other times it was clear her mouth was moving but the sound had been edited out. For a brief moment, I imagined it was Becky bound to that cross, with me wielding the implement, battering and bruising her. I could feel the anger welling in my chest as I thought about her, feel my cock start to swell again at the thought of hearing her scream like that. I pushed it away.

This video wasn’t the one I was looking for. I opened the next video. Rachel popped back up on the monitor, this time on her knees, crawling towards the camera. I paused it. In the background behind her-NO. It couldn’t be. My hand hovered over the mouse, unable to resume the video. Not much of it was visible, and I suddenly felt very stupid for not having noticed before, but the couch behind her looked a particular shade of burgundy. Specifically, it looked the particular shade of burgundy that upholstered the couch in my uncle’s living room. I pressed play, hoping both that it was him and that it wasn’t.

It was. It was his burgundy couch. His beige painted walls. His scuffed oak end table. Which meant…what? Well, for one thing, it meant that it was more likely than not my uncle’s cock now ravaging Rachel’s mouth on screen.

I had sat on that couch. It occurred to me that I may have even complained about Rachel to my uncle while sitting on that couch. I had to be sure. I already knew, but I had to confirm it. If I was going to really believe it, force myself to believe it, I had to see. If that was my uncle (oh be real, you already know it is), I was impressed by his video editing skills, but I knew that he lacked the wherewithal to keep me, or any even moderately skilled hacker, out of his computer. Getting in was easy. Due to his poor file management, the hardest part was actually locating what I was looking for.

I found more video files on his computer, opening the first one I found. It was her. Naked, on her knees, speaking into the camera, “and I rear-ended someone. I had also been drinking. I damaged the truck in front of me. He wanted my insurance information, but...In order to stay out of trouble with my parents...I decided to let him use me…”

I closed the file and copied every video and picture file I could find from his computer to mine. I looked at the time as they finally finished downloading: 10:48 pm. They might be sleeping, but I knew there was a good chance they weren’t. I dialed up a number on my phone, listening to it ring. Once. Twice. Three times. I was about to hang up when the ringing stopped.

“I found more of your videos. Pictures, too. Lots of ‘em. I hate to be like this, but apparently it runs in the family. If you don’t want those videos spread around, here’s what you’re going to do.”