Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/ft, Fa/Fa, Fa/ft, Consensual, NonConsensual, Rape, Coercion, Drunk/Drugged, Lesbian, Interracial, .

Desc: Sex Story: Prelude - A strong-willed young woman preparing to graduate from high school must make a choice: whether to forge her own path in life or attend the mysterious yet prestigious university her father has chosen for her. The young lesbian is forced to accept some hard truths about herself, her sexuality, and her role in life as a result.

"You have three choices, sweetheart," my father said to me. He always used terms of endearment like that when he was about to lecture me or punish me or otherwise treat me like a child. His expression, as always, betrayed the truth: that he viewed me as a disappointment. That what he felt for me wasn't love, but contempt.

I struggled not to roll my eyes as he produced four brochures from his leather briefcase. My mother was sitting next to him at our kitchen table, a worried look on her face but as demure as always. If anything I respected her even less than I respected my dad. He might be a giant, unloving prick but at least he was assertive. It was hard to even pity a woman as obedient and pathetic as my mom. She was everything I didn't want to be: a humble housewife who lived her life for her husband only, never doing anything for herself, never standing up for herself. It made me sick.

"Army, Navy, Marines, or Air Force," my father said as he laid out each brochure in front of me.

"The military?" I said, laughing at the absurdity of the suggestion. "Me? Yeah, I don't think so."

Without missing a beat he laid out a fifth brochure. It was for Helotry College, a prestigious university on the east coast. Both my parents were alumni but there was a problem. "Uh, Dad? They already rejected me."

He didn't so much as blink. "I've made arrangements," he said mildly. "Your application has been reconsidered. You've been accepted for the Fall term on a probationary basis should you choose that's the path you wish to take."

Made arrangements, I thought in disgust. More like you bought them off.

"Please consider it, darling," my mother urged me. "It will change your life!"

I shook my head. "I like my plan better," I said, trying to keep my composure. If nothing else I didn't want to attend the prestigious school because my dad obviously wanted me to so badly. This was typical behavior for him, trying to plan my whole future. Giving ultimatums. Not caring about what I wanted. Well, while most girls would jump at the chance to go to Helotry, I wasn't most other girls. "Thanks for ... arranging it, or whatever, but CSW is still my choice."

"Very well," he said, gathering up the brochures. "I imagine you'll get enough money from your graduation party this weekend to pay for at least one semester of this art college of yours. How you'll manage to afford a place to live while going there, especially without my help, is something you'll have to figure out for yourself, though."

"Wait," I said, stunned by his words. "You won't pay for college? You said you would! CSW is only an hour away so I can commute so I won't need to be in the dorms and--"

He silenced me by slamming his closed fist down on the table. His eyes held a fury in them that sent a chill down my spine. He said, "Did I list that so-called college as one of your options, Ella? Do you think I somehow forgot it? No. It was intentionally left out. If you wish to waste your time and money on such an endeavor, well, you're almost an adult woman. Legally speaking, at least. You're entitled to your stupidity just like every American. But if you think for a moment that I will participate or enable your folly, you've got another thing coming.

"Military service," he said, waving the pamphlets at me, "or Helotry College. Those are the only things I will support."

Anger rose up within me as I stared at my father for a long minute before bolting to my feet. "Fine! I'll find a place to live and pay for everything on my own! Plenty of people do it all the time. I can, too! I don't need your fucking money!"

I stormed out of the room just as my mother began to say, "Honey, wait--" before my father cut her off. A few moments later I was in my bedroom, fuming with rage as I wondered what the hell I was going to do.

Later that day I was chilling with my girlfriend Judy in the back of her used Ford Explorer, sharing a joint and enjoying the feeling of her leaning back into my ample chest.

I'd met Judy at Saint Beckett's Juvenile Detention Center earlier that year. I'd been sentenced to one week at that miserable institution for beating the hell out of Marcie DiMingo, a stuck up bitch of a cunt who had spread rumors that my boyfriend was gay. Of course, he was gay. Jake and I had similarly conservative families and we'd agreed during our Sophomore year to pretend we were dating to keep our parents from learning the truth. We went to school dances together, had "dates" that our respective fathers approved of, and generally did all that we could to keep up appearances. Most of the kids at school knew it was just an act but thankfully even the ones who were as conservative as our parents understood the Teenager Code: you didn't betray a fellow student to an adult. That just wasn't cool. When Marcie broke the code I decided to break her face.

Had it not been for the fact that my dad was a member at the same country club as the judge I might have received a much more severe sentence. One week was nothing, more of a warning than anything else. I'd learned my lesson but still didn't regret the assault on that bitch. The way I figured Marcie should have thanked me: after I was done with her she finally got the nose-job she'd long been wishing for.

Judy had been at the detention center for nonviolent offenses: shoplifting, drug possession, and "indecent exposure". She was my cellmate during my time there and even though she'd already been locked up for a month I instantly became her protector. She was too shy and timid to stand up for herself and was picked on constantly by some of the other girls. I was able to show her that just appearing like you're willing to fight is usually enough to make even the toughest of cunts back down and leave you alone. Judy was bigger and stronger than me and I think the sight of my short-ass getting in the face of one of the tougher bitches in the place shamed her into doing the same.

"You could do porn," she suggested after exhaling a long plume of smoke.

We both laughed at the suggestion. "Can you imagine?" I said. By now I was already high and had long since finished telling her about the choices my dad had given me come the Fall. "Ella Myers starring in Anal Gangbang Facials 9!"

She laughed. "No, no, you'd need a pornstar name," she said. "Let's see ... how about 'Saphhire Tightness'? Or 'Emerald Easy'?"

"'Emma Chestire'," I suggested. We both cracked up.

"That's not bad!" Judy said. "'Emma Chestire' in 'Barely Legal Butt Nymphos 8! Yeah I can see that..."

I giggled and flicked what little remained of the joint out the window before rolling it up. "My middle name and the street I grew up on," I admitted. "That's how you're supposed to figure out your porno name."

"Your middle name is Emma?" Judy laughed. For a long moment we both laughed together, me hugging her more tightly and absentmindedly moving my arm up to cover her large D-cup breasts. "Ella Emma Myers? That's so funny! Why is that so funny?"

I grinned. "What would your porn name be?" I said, teasingly giving her tit a squeeze.

"Ow!" she said. When I began to gently fondle her, though, she sighed and shut her eyes. "Uhm ... Rachel Maine, I guess..."

"I bet that one's already been taken," I said, whispering now as I nibbled her ear.

Getting high always got me horny. Well, simply being around Judy got me horny. She was stunning: 36-D chest, long black hair, flawless caramel colored skin. Unlike me she was tall and athletic, a basketball player and member of her school's track team. If she had just a little bit more self confidence she would have been like Marcie and the other stuck up bitches at my school. As it was, Judy attended a public school and wasn't very popular there, more of the timid bookworm type, and her social life largely revolved around helping her mother raise her five little brothers and sisters. If it wasn't for the fact that she had a cousin who liked to use her to help sell weed she would never have been institutionalized in the first place. Then again, I would never met her had it not been for that.

"I'm serious, though," she said, her breath growing ragged as I slid my hand up her shirt. Her back was still pressing against my chest and I had moved my lips down to the nape of her neck. "My cousin stripped her way through college ... did some porn, too ... mmm..."

I slid my hand under her bra, pushing it out of the way. Her shirt was still on and while tempting I decided not to pull it off her. We were parked at a public park near my house, her having driven quite a distance to pick me up. Even though it was deserted right now the last thing we needed was to get spotted by some jogger or biker popping out from the wooded trail. While I didn't really give a shit I knew Judy would flip out if some stranger saw her topless. She got really self conscious and paranoid around strangers when she was stoned and the last thing she needed was another indecent exposure charge on her record.

"I don't got the body to strip, or to do porn," I whispered in her ear as I gently pinched her nipple.

Her body shuddered against mine and her legs began to squirm. I started moving my free hand down her side and then pushed it into her shorts. "Sure you do," she sighed as my hand tickled the fuzzy patch of pubic hair she had just above her pussy. Unlike me she liked keeping a carefully trimmed triangle of hair there and refused, despite my best attempts to convince her otherwise, to shave herself bald. "You have the cutesy thing going ... you could do barely legal films until you're like 30..."

That made me laugh. "Is that why you like me? Ms. Vargas, are you a pedophile or something?"

Laughter mixed into her heavy breathing as my fingers worked their magic on her vagina. She was already slick down there as I dragged the tip of my index finger up the folds of her sex. "Pedos like children ... you're not a child but ... oh god ... but you've got that sort of ... sort of ... permanently adolescent body ... oh GOD ... yes, yes..."

My finger continued sliding up and down her slick twat as I kissed her neck and fondled her breast. I'd been disappointed when she told me earlier that we had to go out, that she didn't have time to drive me back to her house and then drive me back to mine. Now I was glad. Something about making out like this in the back of her truck, stoned and giddy and clothed, was extremely erotic. I felt myself getting wet, too, and the smell of our respective sexes mingling with the marijuana smoke created a very arousing atmosphere.

"So my girlfriend wants to see me fucked by strange men for money?" I breathed. "What am I supposed to make of that, hmm?"

She sighed. "I'm just ... just saying that you could," she said. "You'd have to ... oh fuck ... have to grow out your hair..."

"You don't like my hair?" I said, pinching her, perhaps a bit too hard as my other hand flicked her clit.

"OW!" she gasped. "N-no, I love it ... love ... oh god ... but you can't be ... can't be a pornstar with a dyke haircut..."

I was getting ready to bite her neck a bit, something that always drove her crazy, when suddenly a siren blared. WOHAP WHOAP was the sound, startling both of us.

My hands pulled away from her in a flash and Judy scrambled away from me. She sat up quickly in the seat next to mine and stared at me with fear in her large, dark eyes. My heart-rate about doubled in less than a second when I saw the police car shining its floodlight into the backseat of Judy's truck. How long he'd been sitting there I didn't know but I realized that we'd been sitting in the truck for quite a lot longer than I'd thought. The sun had mostly set and only the cop car's headlights and floodlight provided any illumination.

"Shit, shitshitshit!" Judy said, frantically trying to adjust her bra. She looked absolutely terrified.

"Relax," I said, suddenly aware of just how stoned I was. Calm down, calm down, I told myself. Don't lose it or she'll lose it, don't lose it or she'll lose it...

Suddenly there was a tapping on the window. "Let me do the talking," I said as Judy zipped up her shorts. I tried collecting my thoughts as best I could as I rolled down the window.

"Good evening, ladies," the officer said. He was a heavyset man with a trim goatee and receding hairline. His uniform and bearing gave him the all-terrifying Law Enforcement Officer look I so dreaded. "How are you tonight?"

"Uh, fine, officer," I said with a feigned smile.

"Glad to hear. Did you know the park closes at 9pm?"

I feigned shock. "It's already 9!" I said, completely overselling the lie. With the sun practically gone any idiot would know that it was already that late. "I'm sorry, officer! We'll leave, we just lost track of time..."

"What are you doing, sitting around in a parking lot like this?" he asked, shining his flashlight over at Judy. She looked mortified.

"We took a walk," I lied. "Then, uh ... decided to have a cigarette. More comfortable back here, to talk, ya know? Hot night and all."

"To talk," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He shined his light at me again. "You know it's against the law to smoke in California if you're under the age of eighteen?"

Sell it, I thought. Getting busted for smoking a cigarette was a hell of a lot better than getting busted for possessing marijuana. I stupidly thought that if I admitted to the lesser crime he might not notice the stench of pot that still filled the truck. "I'm really sorry. I don't smoke much but ... sometimes. And ya know, well, she's eighteen, and I'll be eighteen next week," I said truthfully. "I know it's dumb but I was just sharing one with my friend..."

"Uh huh," he said. "Step out of the vehicle, please."

He held the door open for us and we had no choice but to creep out of the truck. Once outside he pointed to the back of the SUV and told us to sit on its bumper. He then proceeded to lean into the vehicle and begin to search it.

"If he finds the stash, it's mine," I whispered to my girlfriend.

"No!" she said, her voice so low I could barely hear her. The sounds of the cop rummaging around the backseat of her truck were even louder than her small voice. "It was my stupid idea to get high!"

"Yeah but I didn't exactly argue," I hissed. "Besides, my dad will bail me out tonight. Will yours?"

She remained silent at that.

It was true that my dad would definitely bail me out if I ended up getting arrested. Not because of any love he had for me but because of the love he had for the family name. Just like many times in the past he would use his connections to get me out of any serious trouble, I thought, if only to keep my name out of the papers. My stoned brain figured that for a small marijuana charge I'd probably end up with nothing more than a few hours of community service at most, something that could almost immediately be expunged from my record. The only reason I got the week in juvie for beating up Marcie was that her father also had connections. Everything else had been removed due to my father's considerable influence with the local courts.

Judy, on the other hand, would get the book thrown at her. Taking the blame for her stash, should the cop find it, was a no brainer.

As expected, he found the stash. When he returned to us he was holding a small box of tampons. He said, "Whose is this?"

"Mine," I said instantly.

He glared at me for a long moment, then at Judy, then back at me before finally nodding. "Turn around," he said.

I knew the drill. I'd been arrested four times before and was familiar with how it worked. Without arguing or resisting in any way I turned around and placed my hands on the back of the truck. He then cuffed first my right wrist, then my left. Once they were secured behind my back he said to Judy, "You stay put, Miss."

I was more annoyed than afraid. I hated cops who went on power trips, which seemed to be pretty much all of them. Why make such a big deal about a little pot? It was practically legal in California anyway.

As he marched me toward his squad car the sound of Judy whimpering only made me angrier. Why did cops have to be such assholes?

After placing me into the backseat of his cruiser he held the box of tampons up to me. "You know what's in here?"

I nodded.

"Tell me," he said.

Rolling my eyes and doing my best not to have an attitude I said, "A little weed, some papers, and a bowl."

He nodded. "That's possession of a controlled substance and paraphernalia," he said. The way he spoke made it sound like he'd discovered a dead baby in that box or something. "I can also charge you with trespassing if you give me any bullshit. Understand?"

I nodded glumly. Asshole, I thought.

"You have a driver's license?"

"State ID. It's in my purse, front seat of the truck," I said. "Passenger side."

He slammed the door shut and left me alone in the back of the car to stew. Through the windshield I saw Judy's terrified expression as the cop scolded her for several minutes before marching around the side of the truck and returning with my purse. He admonished my girlfriend for several more minutes until she was really bawling before pointing toward the driver's side door.

Thank god! I thought as she wandered around the side of her truck, looking back with a sad, guilty expression on her face. Just go! I thought. When she got into her truck I sighed in relief.

The cop returned to the squad car a moment later and he sat down heavily in the driver's seat. I heard him mumble something into his radio before holding up my ID and then typing, with one hand, my information into his dashboard computer. My stoned brain was too distracted to pay much attention to his actions. In my head I was going over what would happen next. First I'd be brought to the local precinct where a female officer would search my body before leading me to booking. There I would be fingerprinted and my mugshot would be taken. After that I'd wait in a holding cell until either they formally booked me and placed me in a regular cell or I was able to contact my father and get bailed out. More than likely I'd be back home in a few hours but even if I had to spend the night in jail it would be worth it, knowing that Judy was free. Compared to her my life was easy. She didn't deserve to go through this shit.

"Myers, eh?" the cop finally said to me. "Live over at Chestire Meadows, do ya?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, annoyed by the way the handcuffs were chafing my wrists. It's hard to sit comfortably when your wrists are handcuffed together behind your back.

"You wouldn't be related to Roger Myers, would you?"

I groaned. "My dad," I whispered.

"Speak up," he demanded.

"He's my dad," I snapped angrily. In his role as City Manager my father had recently made severe cuts to the city's law enforcement budget. I had hoped this pig wouldn't make the connection. Myers was such a common name that none had ever done so before.

He grunted and then lowered his voice before mumbling something else into his radio. After that he put the cruiser in gear and we were on our way.

The effects of the pot amplified my paranoia now. Since the cop knew who my dad was I might not get off so easily after all. If I was really unlucky he'd be on the phone with the local paper as soon as he passed me off to one of the deputies at the station. He would definitely make sure to let everyone know who I was. In the past my dad usually had the Chief of Police ordering my release before anyone realized I was the City Manager's daughter. I could have lied to this pig, of course, and might have done so had I been sober. While stoned, however, I wasn't that clever.

I was so lost in my thoughts that when the squad car stopped I had no idea where we were. I hadn't been paying attention. It seemed like we were in some sort of industrial complex, but that didn't make any sense. The only nearby industrial area of the city wasn't anywhere along the way to the police station. "Why are we stopping?" I asked, confused.

"Protocol," the cop said as he hefted his body out of the car. "Forgot to search ya."

"What?" I asked to no one. When the door opened and he roughly pulled at my arm I said, "You can't search me! You need a female officer-- OW!"

My shoulder roared with pain when he basically lifted me out of the backseat and pulled me out of the car. "Shut up, bitch," he said. He led me around to the back of the car and pushed me against the trunk. I was too short to bend over it properly so my face ended up smacking roughly into the vehicle as my shoes lost their footing on the gravel road.

"Hey!" I protested, squirming against the rough treatment.

"I said SHUT the FUCK UP!" he said, yanking on my cuffed wrists and pulling my arms painfully up behind me.

"OW!" I cried.

His other hand began to roughly pat down my body. It was obvious from the start that he wasn't really searching for anything. What could I be hiding? I was wearing a pair of black denim shorts and a loose fitting black sleeveless top. Yet his hand continued to paw all over my small, slender body, squeezing my ass and running up and down my inner thighs as he held my arms up behind me with his other arm.

I felt humiliated. Tears came to my eyes but that only made me angrier: I didn't cry. I never cried. That's not who I was. When he let go of my wrists and spun me around I knew where his hands were going next and grew determined to endure it with as much dignity as I could muster.

He'll pay for this later, I assured myself. You're fucking with the wrong girl, asshole.

When he began pawing at my breasts, though, my resolve broke somewhat and I let out a gasp of fear. He chuckled at this. "What, little dyke don't like this?" he said. To my astonishment he pulled my shirt up over my breasts, exposing them to his perverted eyes. "No bra? Shit, hon, you're a small thing but these tits are nice. Firm for now, very nice," he said as he squeezed one of them, "but if you don't support 'em they'll be sagging like some African tribal woman or some shit before you're 30."

I tried not whimper as he pawed at my exposed breasts but failed. No man had ever touched them before. They were just B-cups but on my slender body they appeared rather large. They were nothing compared to Judy's legitimately massive breasts, however, and that thought strengthened my resolve as he molested me. At least it's me, not Judy, I told myself. I was the tough one. I could take this.

Still, it took all my might to keep myself from crying. I'd never been treated like this before. Never felt so weak before. My wrists were aching from the handcuffs, my face stung from being slammed down on the trunk of the car, and worst of all this sweaty old man was fondling me like I was his personal plaything. The thought of revenge gave me strength as I stared at his leering eyes and the stupid, nasty grin on his face. Once my dad heard about this, oh, there would be hell to pay. He wouldn't be smiling when his picture was on the front page of the paper with the words "Corrupt cop charged with molesting underage girl".

Eventually he got tired of squeezing and fondling my tits and he moved his hand down to between my legs. He boldly squeezed me there, so rough and painfully that I cried out in pain and shock. The cop grinned at me. He said, "How many cocks been in here, child?"

"Fuck you!" I yelled.

He didn't like that. His face contorted in rage and suddenly he lifted his molesting hand and backhanded me, hard, across my face. With his other hand he gripped me around my neck and then he said, "You need a lesson in respect, you little cunt!"

He spun me around again and easily lifted my light young body onto the trunk of the car so that I was lying upon it, my legs kicking out behind me futilely. He gripped my shorts in his hands and yanked them down, not even bothering to unclasp them first. I screamed in pain as I heard the denim rip and suddenly felt the cool late Spring air against my naked ass.

"No panties either?" the cop hissed into my ear. His hand was probing at my cunt as I continued to squirm, my legs now restrained somewhat from my shorts which were dangling around my ankles. "You really are a little slut, aren't ya?"

"Fuck you," I said again, wishing I sounded stronger. He definitely noticed the weakness in my voice. He chuckled and then slammed his hand down across my round little butt, blasting pain throughout my body.

"AHHHH!" I screamed.

"No, fuck you," he said. He slammed his open hand across my naked ass again, then again, and then again. I shrieked in agony as my exposed tits slid back and forth across the metal of his car.

He spanked me like that for nearly five minutes. Whenever I didn't scream loudly enough he struck me harder. Eventually I broke down entirely: I couldn't help it. No hope of revenge or thought of having saved Judy could keep me from crying as he gave me the spanking of a lifetime. I began to bawl like a little girl, sobbing pathetically from the pain and the humiliation I was going through. Finally he gripped my spiky red hair in his hand and turned my face to look back at him. Breathlessly he said, "I'll ask again. How many cocks been up your slut cunt, bitch?"

I was too stoned and in too much pain to even feign defiance anymore. I answered truthfully. "Nuh-none," I sniffled.

He regarded me for a long moment. "You a virgin?"

I nodded, choking back tears.

"Shit," he mumbled. He let go of my hair. "Tell ya what's gonna happen, then. You're gonna get on your knees and suck me off. You ever suck a man off before?"

Again, I shook my head. I felt numb all over.

"Jesus, you're a real dyke, huh? Fine," he said. He pulled me off the trunk of his cruiser and roughly pushed me to my knees on the gravel paved lot. "First time for everything. You get me off with your mouth, you can go home still a virgin, tonight. You can't, or ya do anything stupid, I'll rape your cunt, I'll rape your ass, then I'll taser ya till your little heart gives out. Got me?"

"Wh-what?" I groaned. The rocky gravel was digging into my soft skin as he unbuckled his trousers.

He gripped my hair again. "It ain't complicated, bitch!" he roared at me. "You got a history of violence. You're an obvious slut, even if ya are only a dyke-slut. You don't play ball right now, all I gotta say is I found you smokin' pot with another dyke and some random boy I'll just make up. I'll tell 'em I arrested you when you confessed that the pot was yours, which I have on recording by the way, but then I got a flat on the way to the station. LISTEN TO ME!"

He slapped me hard across my tear-stained face and I tried to stop sobbing. I looked up at his angry eyes and he nodded. "That's better. I'll tell everyone that while waiting for service I decided to let you take a piss. After uncuffing you, well, you hit me, resisted arrest and tried to run. I had no choice but to taser you.

"Funny thing about tasers? Sometimes even when you use 'em right, people die. I won't be using it right when I do it to you but trust me, sweetheart, no one'll look too much into it. Your daddy won't want the publicity. He's a right true politician. He'll go along to get along.

"It's either that or you can give me a blowjob with that pretty mouth of yours," he hissed. Suddenly he pulled out his hard cock. It wasn't as big as the ones I'd seen in porn movies before but that didn't make it any less scary or any less disgusting. "And then I can take off those cuffs of yours and give you a ride home. I'll even keep quiet about you dykin' out with that girlfriend of yours. Hell, I'll even give you back your box of 'tampons'.

"So, what'll it be? You choice, girl."

Outrage returned to me but I didn't know what else to do. Maybe if I hadn't been high I would have been able to think of something but I was too shell-shocked, too stoned, to afraid. I curtly nodded my head as he stepped forward, bringing his cock that much closer to my face.

"Smart girl," he said.

With my hands cuffed behind my back I had to bob my head awkwardly to wrap my lips around his engorged penis. That didn't seem to bother him. He sighed the second the head of his cock was finally in my mouth. I had absolutely no experience with giving blowjobs but I knew from movies that men liked a lot of tongue. With bile rising in my stomach I tentatively flicked my tongue out. The taste actually wasn't all that bad. Sweaty, yes, but it didn't taste like piss as I had always suspected one would.

When I focused too long on just running my tongue around the head of his cock he pulled my head in closer. "Deeper, honey," he sighed. "Deeper, then out, there's a good girl ... back and forth, there ya go..."

I bobbed my head back and forth just like he instructed. Thankfully he seemed to enjoy what I was doing and didn't try to gag me as I had feared he would. Perhaps I'd seen way too many porno movies but I thought that's what men always did. Instead he just gently sighed and guided my head with his hand as I ran my tongue around his cock, ever careful not to let my teeth touch his member.

"There's a good girl," he whispered repeatedly. "Oh, yes. There's a really good girl. If only your father could see you now ... ha. Whatta ya think His Honor would say?"

My eyes shut tight. He didn't like that. He yanked painfully on my short hair to get my attention. "Keep your eyes open, bitch! Good. Oh, nice ... more like that, good ... uhg ... yeah, I think your daddy would start allowing overtime again for us cops if he knew how many whores like you plague this city ... yeah, take it deeper, fuck..."

I blushed in shame when I realized how aroused I had grown. Stoned, I thought as I concentrated on sucking off the pig. Because I'm stoned, that's all... I was easily aroused when I was high.

When he began to cum I tried pulling back but he held my head in place. "Suck it down, girl!" he groaned. I had no choice but to do just that. His hot, sticky semen filled my mouth and it was either choke or swallow. I chose to swallow. Gulping down his seed furthered my shame but there was nothing else I could do.

"Good, good," he panted when he was done. He pulled his cock out of my mouth and leaned back against the cruiser as I caught my breath. Without wasting much time he zipped up and said, "Get up."

It was awkward getting to my feet with my arms still bound behind me and my shorts around my ankles but somehow I managed. Once I was standing he roughly pushed me against the car again and I felt him unlocking the handcuffs. After they were free he said, "Go on, don't just stand there. Get dressed."

In a stoned daze I timidly pulled down my shirt first and then pulled my shorts back up. There was a rip on the side from when he'd torn them down my slender legs but they were still tight enough to stay in place once I adjusted them a bit.

He led me to the side of the car again and sat me inside it. After that the squad car took off rather quickly, bouncing me around in my seat as I considered my options.

"Forget about tonight and so will I, got it?" he called back to me. He chuckled, "Well, I ain't gonna forget your hot little bod or that blowjob, but I won't tell no one if you don't. Try and come after me and I'll fucking ruin you. Got it?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

He dropped me off just down the road from my gated community. He said, "I mean it, bitch. You go crying to Daddy and it'll be your word 'gainst mine. I got a pristine record and you confessing on tape to possessing that pot. Think about that."

I stumbled out of the car and just walked away. I hugged my purse to my chest, terrified that at any moment the cop would change his mind and taser me like he had threatened. It wasn't until his cruiser pulled away that I started breathing normally again.

My head was full of thoughts of revenge, then, but I already knew I wasn't going to do anything. As humiliated and violated as I felt there was no dying the fact that I also felt aroused. That alone was reason enough to keep my mouth shut. It would be too humiliating to tell my story to a detective, or testify at court, or even worse tell my dad about what had happened. There was no way I could go through that.

When I got to my bedroom I found the brochures my dad had shown me earlier laid out on my pillow. I sat down, cringing at the pain the spanking had left me, and picked each up one by one.

Leave, I told myself. I realized then how much I wanted to leave. Yes, Judy was here. My friends were here. But so long as I was here I would be trapped. I would live in fear of running into that cop again, live in fear of being outted for being a dyke, live in fear of everything. The dream of art school was just that: a dream. I would never be able to afford it living on my own and I wasn't about to do porn or strip to pay for it as Judy had jokingly suggested. Absolutely not. After tonight I never wanted to see a penis ever again.

Before going to bed I walked down the hall to my father's study and left the brochure for Helotry College on his desk. Across the top of it I had written, "Okay."

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