Chapter 18

I stared down at the money as it lay on my floor; the bag containing my school uniform behind it. The rage boiled inside me with the fire of a thousand suns. I wasn’t a prostitute or some whore selling myself for money, I only did what I’d done that night because Brad had asked me to. I swore if I ever saw Tucker again, I’d cut off his balls. Then again, he might like that too much.

I stuffed the filthy money back into the envelope with the card and climbed out my window, furiously climbing the fire escape as my feet stomped on each step with a heavy metallic clang. I didn’t even wait to peer through Brad’s window, I just started banging on the glass loudly, not caring who in the building heard me. My fist hit so hard I felt the glass shake under my hand with each hit, but no one answered.

After a few minutes, and one angry person shouting at me to shut up, I put my face against the glass and didn’t see any signs of life. He must have fled, I told myself, still fuming. I tried to pull open the window, but it seemed to be locked from the inside. Still angry, but defeated and growing hungry, I returned down the fire escape and crawled back through my window, with the ill-gotten money still in hand.

The sight of it disgusted me, so I stuffed it under my mattress until I could give it back to Brad. The thought of what that money represented grossed me out. I am a girl, a human being. I couldn’t be bought or sold like cattle. This wasn’t the 1700s! I knew people loved me and I loved them. My dignity was worth more than a measly $300.

My attention then turned to the uniform still on the floor, partially obscured by the garment bag it had been hung in. I thought I hated that uniform before, but as I looked at it, I outright loathed it now. I thought about Tucker, cackling to himself, as he sat in front of all those students, likely trying to look up their skirts to view their underage pussies. The fact that he got off on the very same uniforms representing the very same school he taught at disgusted me. I’d let him cum on my face in this, spank my ass in this, and fuck me in this! It made me want to hurl. Right now, he had my panties and was likely doing God knows what with them.

“I don’t want this here anymore,” I said loudly to my empty room. I stormed off to the kitchen garbage, uniform in hand, and stopped. How do I get rid of this thing? I suddenly asked myself.

It had dawned on me that I couldn’t just throw it in the usual garbage, because mom and dad would see it. They’d wonder why I suddenly pulled it out of the closet to begin with, let alone why it had recently been drycleaned. I could give it to Brad to give to Tucker for another student, I thought before realizing Tucker would likely keep it as a trophy to go with my underwear. Immortalize me in some gross perverted shrine of conquests he has, full of bits of hair, clothing and ... pictures!

I’d forgotten about the pictures from last night. I rushed over to my bed where I’d tossed my phone after calling Riley earlier. I found it hidden among the unmade sheets and opened the gallery. There, in the highest quality my camera could manage, were nearly five hundred pictures taken last night. I scrolled through images of the night, each degrading event captured for posterity there in my hand. I could hardly believe I was looking at myself in those images; some with my face covered in cum, extreme close-ups of my genitals and asshole, images of my feet for some reason, and so many more of me in the throes of some kind of bliss.

It was disgusting to look at, my body and dignity debased like that. And yet, I could feel myself getting aroused as I scrolled back through. My sore and abused pussy got wet as it seemed to remember each thrust it took the night before. My mind couldn’t help but recall the feeling of fullness as each cock entered me. The warmth as it spurted inside me and then ran down my ass into a puddle beneath me. And then there was the blackout ... I don’t remember much about it, but the results seemed extraordinary.

“Riley’s here tomorrow. She’ll know how to help me,” I told myself as I put my phone down and returned to the uniform on the ground. I guess I’m stuck with you for now, I thought to myself. I picked it up, still in the bag, and hung it up in the back of the closet where I’d found it. I hoped I’d never see it again and buried it behind other clothes. Still annoyed, but growing hungrier, I went to the kitchen and made myself some lunch. I’d worked up quite the appetite.

I spent the rest of the day cleaning my room under the guise of Riley’s visit, but a lot of it was still angry energy from the previous night. I wasn’t sure if I was angrier at Tucker, and to a lesser extent Brad, or myself for letting him get to me the way he’d done. It was clear he was a master at manipulating girls to get what he wanted, and I’d fallen right into his traps over and over again. I thought I knew what he was doing each time, and yet, I’d still gotten ensnared in his web of lies and deceit.

By the time mom and dad got home from work, my room looked like someone else lived in it. All the usual scattered clothes were put away nicely and open drawers were closed. Dad joked that he’d forgotten what my floor even looked like, and I couldn’t help remembering what he looked like. Our eyes met at one point, as mom checked my room for dust, and I noticed him blush just a little bit. Did he think the same thing I was thinking of or was his thoughts on remembering what I looked like naked.

Riley and I chatted a bit that evening. She let me know that she expected to be in the city by 1:00 or 2:00, depending on how bad traffic ended up being. She tried to get me to talk about the previous night, but I refused. I didn’t want to talk about it over the phone, I wanted her here with me. I don’t know if it was fear that she’d change her mind on visiting, knowing what I’d let Tucker talk me into doing. Maybe I just wanted to see her face as I told her what happened, to witness if she viewed me any differently from the friend I thought I was. I didn’t want her to think less of me. There was nothing scarier than that.

As the final night before Riley’s arrival descended, I was filled with nervous energy. I tried to go to bed early, wanting to get a good night’s sleep before she arrived. I figured that first night we’d be up late catching up and probably fooling around. Quite honestly, I expected that whole long weekend would be one of minimal sleep and maximum sexual satisfaction. That is, if she still wanted to touch me after I detailed my tryst with Brad and Tucker.

I lay in bed, the freshly washed sheets cool and soft against my naked skin, but my mind wouldn’t settle. When I closed my eyes, all I could see was Tucker’s bulbous cock pointed at my face, and the smug expression when he unloaded another large splash of cum on my face, on my tits, or in my pussy. When I felt myself get turned on again, I chastised myself for being such a slut just like he said.

My mind wandered back to me in that uniform, now cleaned and hung in my closet. Did the cleaners notice the large amount of stains all over it? I wondered if they questioned Tucker on why a St. Augustus school uniform was covered in semen. If they knew he was a teacher there and secretly wanted to fuck his students like the degenerate scum that he was, did they think he’d actually managed to do it?

My legs twitched, restless for tomorrow’s visitor. I felt a small bulge in the bedding, a bump that my brain couldn’t seem to ignore, like that of Edgar Allen Poe’s Telltale Heart. The lump felt like a hill in my mind, until I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached down and pulled the offending culprit from under my mattress, the envelope with the dirty money in it. I needed it out of my room and my life, to hopefully rid myself of the shame and thoughts that I was, as Tucker called me, a whore.

When I checked the time, it was just after midnight. I put on my housecoat, stuck the envelope in my pocket, and climbed out the window. The metal was cold on my bare feet as I climbed the stairs. A gust of wind nipped at the bottom of my housecoat, threatening to lift it up to the street below. I hadn’t bothered to put on anything underneath, since I only wanted to talk to Brad. The previous night had worn me out and I wanted to recuperate before Riley’s arrival.

I was surprised when I saw the lights were off and the curtains closed to Brad’s window. He was usually a night owl, having me or other women over till late into the night. He must have to drink so much coffee the next day to stay awake at his job, with the hours he kept. I didn’t feel like waiting another day, so I knocked on the window. Nothing seemed to be happening, so I knocked again, but harder. Finally, a light turned on and the curtains opened.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you tonight,” Brad said after he opened his window. “How are you feeling?”

“Ok, I guess. Can I come in?” I asked and he helped me through the tight window. I’m pretty sure he noticed I wasn’t wearing anything underneath the robe, as I saw him check me out.

“What’s going on, are you ok?” It seemed like the return of the nicer Brad, not Tucker’s assistant from the night before. That made me feel a little better.

“I’m still sore ... down there,” I said, glancing down at myself. “Can I talk to you about last night?”

“Of course. Did you have fun? I figured you would like Tucker, he seemed to be more your type.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s good at getting girls to do what he wants, I thought you’d like to be with someone much more experienced than me.”

“Brad, I only did that because you wanted me to. Sure, it was kind of fun, but your friend Tucker is a misogynistic, humiliating asshole,” I said firmly. A little hate returned to my voice as I spoke about him.

“Yeah, exactly. I figured that’s what you wanted. You seemed to enjoy it last night. It took me a couple of hours to clean up the mess we all made last night.”

“I’m not going to say I hated it, but...” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the envelope, and handed it to Brad. “Read it.”

There was silence for a minute as he read it.

“He’s just joking...”

“He thinks I’m a perverted whore. I’ve never felt so disgusted with myself, Brad. I feel so cheap and used. I hate him so much!”

Brad’s face looked shocked, like I’d told him the sky was purple or something. “That’s so strange. I could have sworn you’d like him. He certainly liked you. He couldn’t stop talking about how mature and in touch you were with yourself. Hell, he seemed so confident that you’d want to get together again, he rushed out to get that uniform cleaned for next time.”

Was I on another planet? Or did I black out and fall into an alternate universe or something? I couldn’t figure out why in the world either of these two guys would even remotely think I’d do anything like that again.