Chapter 1

Tracy McConnell got on the school bus for the trip home. Three weeks of school left. Almost done with ninth grade. She could hardly wait.

“Happy birthday, Tracy!”

The lovely young blonde smiled at her classmate. Then waved at another. She found an empty seat and slid next to the window. Crossing her legs, she straightened the pleated, checkered-blue skirt, covering her thighs. Fashionably short, the hem stopped a few inches above her knees. Then she straightened out her shirt, a matching blue pullover, and noticed again how the fit was a little too snug on her. It made her boobs stand out too much. She loosened the shirt a little, deciding again that showing more skin around her waist was better than having her boobs poke out so much.

“Happy birthday, Tracy!”

She smiled at another classmate and wiggled her fingers in a demure wave. Turning 15 was cool, and Tracy liked the way it sounded, but she hadn’t really celebrated her birthday. She turned 15 three days ago. But there was no birthday party. She had no friends over to celebrate. Her father did bring home a cake from the supermarket. And he gave her a birthday present, a gift certificate for Rich’s, so she could buy herself a new outfit. After that, Doug McConnell proceeded to get drunk. As usual.

That was the problem. Her dad was an alcoholic.

That was why she hardly ever had friends over. Why she didn’t have many friends. It was the reason Tracy always worried about things. Somebody had to. And it was the reason why turning 15 wasn’t as exciting as it might have been. Tracy’s dad told her she could begin dating when she turned 15. That was something she had thought about a lot. Something she anticipated. Something she dreaded. The beautiful teen shuddered at the prospect of some boy coming to the house to pick her up for a date ... and meeting her alcoholic father. And who knows how he would act when the boy brought her home. By then, Dad would be really drunk.

God, that would be so embarrassing.

She was a smart girl who got very good grades in school. She often made the honor roll and next year Tracy would be in some of the advanced classes. Her math teacher called her an excellent problem-solver. But she couldn’t solved her biggest problem. How to help her dad stop drinking.

She wanted to start dating. It made the virginal schoolgirl nervous, but in a good way.

She seemed to attract the attention of boys without even trying ... Tracy absentmindedly checked her shirt again ... especially on days when she wore a tight-fitting shirt like this one. She was self-conscious about her breasts, already 34-B at her tender age. Boys seemed to be obsessed with a girl’s chest. Tracy didn’t understand it, but she sort of liked the attention. She sometimes caught boys staring at her legs, especially on days when she wore a short skirt like this one. Girls she knew said Tracy was a very beautiful girl. A couple of friends even told her she looked “hot” and “sexy” in an outfit like this. Boys seemed to think so, too.

Not that the innocent beauty knew much about being sexy.

She didn’t know, looking out the window, how much boys also enjoyed looking at her face and her hair, especially if their eyes could linger without her noticing. Tracy had long, bright blonde hair, falling past her shoulders, that had a natural body and slight waviness that girls loved and boys loved looking at. Her golden locks framed Tracy’s pretty face, which had the cutest dimples when she smiled, and her beautiful green eyes. She had a fair complexion. Her skin was smooth, with a healthy luster, and free of the blemishes typical of adolescence.

She seemed to have a lot going for her. Being smart enough to make the honor roll, pretty enough to distract the boys in her classes, finishing the ninth grade, turning 15, and becoming old enough to date. It was all cool. But none of it really mattered.

Tracy McConnell was not a happy girl. Especially on days like today. Fridays. Oh god, she dreaded Fridays.

Her dad was on probation after his second DWI conviction. So he seldom went out after he started drinking. During the week, he came home after work and got quietly drunk, usually by himself. The weekends, however, were a different story. On Friday nights, Doug liked to have friends over. Alcoholics like him. Men came over to her house and drank with her dad. Got drunk with her dad. There were usually five or six men who came over, and they all drank until they were totally smashed. Some would drive home or call a cab. Some drank until they passed out, like her dad. They would sleep on one of the sofas ... Doug always passed out in his recliner ... and wake up Saturday with a big hang-over. Sometimes, they would go home. Sometimes, they would hang around and get drunk all day.

Tracy usually left the house on Saturdays and stayed away all day. But on Fridays, she was stuck at home. Which presented another problem.

It wasn’t so bad at first, when the men were just coming over, and the drinking was just getting started. It helped that Tracy changed into a pair of jeans as soon as she got home on Fridays. She had learned it was better not to let them see her in a skirt, or a pair of shorts, anything that showed lots of skin. She could make supper, and eat in the kitchen, without getting harassed too much.

By the time she was cleaning up, and the men were beginning to get drunk, some of them would start saying things to her, things a man shouldn’t say to an underage girl, especially in front of her own father. If they got close enough to Tracy, they would do things like slap her butt, or give it a pinch, or act like they were just trying to give her a friendly hug. Eeeuwww. Doug would tell them to stop, to leave his daughter alone, but they didn’t really listen. They would start again, whenever she left her room, whether it was in the kitchen, or the living room, even in the hallway. Her dad wouldn’t say anything more unless she cried out in distress. He never made a serious effort to stop it. If Tracy complained to him about it ... when he was sober ... he just shrugged it off.

“You’re a very pretty girl. Sometimes, men can’t help themselves.”

Out of necessity, the 14-now-15-year-old girl had become skilled at fending off any unwelcome hands. Mostly, once they started getting really drunk, she just tried to stay away from them. Tracy stayed in her room, where it was safe, coming out only when it was necessary.

What made it so bad was that her dad was usually one of the first to pass out. It was then that her home became a scary place for the alluring schoolgirl. Some of the men didn’t get too bad, but some of them ... once her dad was out of it ... would start talking dirty to her. Saying nasty things about what they wanted to do with her ... or wanted to do to her ... or things they wanted Tracy to do for them. Once they were really drunk, if one of them got the chance ... didn’t happen often, but sometimes ... he might grab Tracy and hold her tight as he tried to feel her up.

After her dad passed out, she usually didn’t leave her room except to go pee. She tried to be careful, but she couldn’t know when he would pass out. Sometimes, Tracy found out the hard way, when she would have to push some drunk off of her. And smell his alcoholic breath. Eeeuwww.

Last weekend was her closest call yet. After going to the bathroom, right before bed, Tracy was surprised by a man in the hallway. He grabbed her, and when she tried to pull away, he pinned her against the wall. She cried out, but no one came to help her. They must have all gone home by then, or passed out ... like her dad ... so he grabbed her boobs. Tracy fought with him, but the man just squeezed harder, and tried to kiss her. She still shuddered at the memory of him breathing his alcoholic breath all over her face. God, that was so gross.

She managed to get away. For a few minutes, though, the terrified teen beauty thought that hideous man was going to rape her.

She had tried, a bunch of times, to get her dad to understand how unsafe she felt being around all these drunks. He just wouldn’t take it seriously, even if Tracy started crying and telling him how afraid she was of getting raped by one of these men. He would try to comfort her ... Doug loved his daughter, even if he loved the booze more ... and try to assure her they didn’t really mean any harm.

“But, Dad, you don’t see how bad they get after you’ve ... you know ... gone to sleep.”

“Now, now, honey, they’re my friends. Ain’t going to hurt you none.”

She had to face it. Her dad could not or would not protect her. The 15-year-old virgin was on her own. That was a scary place to be.

The bus stopped, ending her ruminations. Most of the other kids had already gotten off, but Tracy waved at a couple of classmates, and caught a couple of boys checking her out. She still blushed when they did that.

She saw another car parked in the driveway. It belonged to one of her dad’s long-time drinking buddies. But they wouldn’t start drinking this early ... would they? As soon as she walked in, Tracy got all upset. Two men, as it turned out, had already arrived. And, yes, they were already drinking. So was...

“Dad?!? Why are you starting so early?!?”

The infuriated teen grunted in frustration as she glared at the two men. With a forced laugh, Doug gave his daughter a big hug, then put his arm around her shoulders.

“My little girl just turned 15.”

The slightly-intoxicated men took a good look at Tracy. They had known Doug’s kid for a while now. They had seen the little darlin’ growing up...”blossoming,” as her dad put it ... but they seldom saw her in anything but jeans. And here she was, wearing a short skirt and a short top. She was one curvaceous cutie. Nice tits for a girl her age, and a figure that was developing some shapely curves. They already knew she had great legs from seeing her in shorts a couple of times. It was still a treat to see those sexy young thighs. Each man wanted to ask Tracy to turn around, but that would’ve been too obvious. Yessiree, Doug’s “little girl” was becoming a young hottie. Definitely fuckable.