I wanted to be a gentleman that day and pick Kat up at the airport, but work got in the way. Well, no, let’s be honest, it wasn’t work, it was writer’s block. For three days I stared at a blank screen, writing a few paragraphs and then deleting them when the article went in the wrong direction. “All I can write about now is fucking sex,” I said to myself, more than once. But I wasn’t getting paid to write about sex, I was getting paid to write about operating systems. And so far, I had nothing I could use.

Then I venmo’d Kat some money, and she took an Uber in the dark, because it was January and the sun was still setting at 5pm here in Los Angeles. And traffic was slow, as it always is, and, so she arrived close to six-thirty, but to her with jetlag it felt like nine thirty, since she had come from the east coast. I watched from the window as the car let her out in front of my house and then went outside to meet her.

It’s always a little strange to meet someone you’ve only talked to online - they never quite look like you expect them to, even if you’ve seen already seen photos. I used to be self-conscious about how I looked, but as I got older, all my peers started looking worse and worse, and somehow I became better looking by comparison. But today wasn’t doing much for my confidence. Kat was half white and half Asian, and looked fantastic, like you’d would think a woman in her early 20s would and should look like before reality disappointed you. She greeted me with a hug, but there wasn’t much to it, and I wondered if my reality had been a little disappointing for her.

Kat would be staying with me for a night and a day before she saw her other friends, and I helped her carry her bags inside and up the stairs. Back in the 1940s, my house would have been a mansion, populated by some Hollywood executive, but at some point it was divided into smaller units for profitability. I had the top floor - a couple thousand square feet and three bedrooms all to myself, but I knew to Kat or anyone outside the hyperexpensive Los Angeles housing market, it would be difficult for them to appreciate just what a luxury that was.

I also had some Thai food laid out on the table, but she wasn’t impressed with that either, and why should she be, they had Thai food in Atlanta and everywhere else. I had wanted to get her sushi, but even though I told her that I got great sushi all the time, I had actually gotten it only once, three years ago, and the restaurant wasn’t even all that good, which is I guess why it had closed and become an Afghan place.

We chatted, and it was pleasant enough, but by the middle of the conversation, she was already texting her friends, and it pissed me off. She could have done it in the airport, or in the Uber, or waited until after dinner, but no, she had to pull the phone out and do it right then. And knowing Kat, she was probably lining up a hookup right in front of me. Like all women nowadays, she told her slut stories without a hint of shame.

I reached over and took her phone away from her, and she looked at me with surprise. “What are you doing?”

“The same thing I do with my daughter,” I said to her. “You’ll get it back after dinner. Assuming you can be polite and pleasant.”

“Very funny,” Kat said. “I was in the middle of a conversation. I need to make plans for tomorrow.”

“You were already in the middle of a conversation with me,” I said. “You don’t need to start another one on your phone. And besides, you already have plans with me.”

“Listen,” Kat said. “I’m not playing games. You need to give me my phone back. Right fucking now.”

“After dinner,” I said, sliding her phone into my back pocket.

“Dinner’s over,” Kat said. “And your Thai food sucks.”

“I told you not to be rude,” I said. “Now you get punished.”

“Punished?” Kat said, laughing. “Send me to room? Please do.”

“No,” I said. “I’m just going to hold you down and fuck you.”

“Asshole,” Kat said. “You don’t scare me.”

She reached around me for her phone, but I pushed her away. Then she tried to hit me, but she was slow, and I caught her hand in mid-air, and squeezed it. Hard.

“Oww! Fuck,” Kat said. “Let me go.”

I did, and she pulled her hand away, rubbing it. She was starting to look a little nervous.

“You know what Dean said? My buddy in Hollywood?” I asked her. “He said they should give you the L.A. New Girl Welcome. You know what that is?”

Kat shook her head.

“They give you a drug cocktail and fuck you all night,” I said. “Lately they’ve been giving girls H-bombs - ecstasy and heroin.”

“That’s bullshit,” Kat said.

“Pretty girls who want to be famous come to L.A. every single day. What do you think happens to them when they get here?” I said.

“There was this one girl that came here. “ I continued. “ Blond haired, blue eyes, rich daddy’s girl type. Influencer or youtuber. Slim with natural boobs because she hadn’t gotten the work done yet. Dean called me up as soon as he got the needle in her arm, and I came right over.”

“And I got there, and she’s on the couch in her underwear, straddling my friend and kissing him, like he was her boyfriend or something,” I continued. “It was like all the wires in her brain were crossed, and she didn’t know where she was or what she was doing, didn’t even care that I was there. She just knew that it was time for her to get fucked. You ever taken ecstasy before? Molly?”

“Yeah,” Kat said.

“And you got fucked, right?” I asked. Kat didn’t answer, so I continued the story. “So my friend takes off her panties and pushes his fingers inside her, and she’s just grinding on his hand trying to get herself off. And do you know what Dean does? He just pushes her away, because he doesn’t give a shit whether she cums or not. Actually, the more unsatisfied she is, the more he likes it.”

“Dean went first, which is fair. It’s his place, and he was the one that found her,” I continued. “He’s got this thing now where he doesn’t even fuck the girl, well barely. Instead he just masturbates and when he’s ready to cum, just shoves his cock in and cums ten seconds later. I asked him about it once, and he said ‘why should I give them any pleasure?’”

“I guess we’ve fucked so many women like that, that we don’t even care what happens to them. Anyway, she spreads her legs for him and he just dumps his cum in her. And she’s still unsatisfied and desperate to fuck. I think he just does it because it messes with their minds to have a pussy full of cum like that. Plus he likes trying to ring their bell.”

“Ring their bell?” Kat asked. “What’s that?”

“Get them pregnant,” I said. “Like I said, he’s an asshole.”

“What happens when they get pregnant?” Kat asked.

I shrugged. “Their pussy, their problem. Anyway, once he was done, it was my turn, but I always want to wait a few minutes after he unloads because cleanup is easier. I put her on her knees to suck my cock, but now the heroin’s kicking in, and she’s falling asleep, so I just grab one of her nipples and squeeze fucking hard. And she wakes up and, well this next part is a little fucked up I guess.”

“Everything you told me is fucked up, “ Kat said, and I laughed.

“Sure, I guess. But then once I wake her up, she’s all over me, and even starts telling me that she loves me. Here’s the thing though, she’s calling me some other guy’s name. I don’t think she even knew where she was, or who I was. I suppose she thought I was someone that she used to fuck, and I guess she still loves.”

“But instead of going along with it, I told her that I never loved her, just to fuck her up even more. I know that was pretty fucking cruel, but I guess I was just playing with her emotions.”

“Jesus,” Kat said.

“Yeah, I know.” I said. “I said it was fucked up. So she starts crying and telling me that she’s sorry, and she’s just an emotional wreck because of the drugs and what I said. But I don’t even care, I just push her legs apart and stick my cock in and see how hard I can fuck her.”

“That’s sick,” Kat said.

“Sure, but you still love hearing about it,” I said to Kat, and she glared at me. “I know how fucked up all you girls are. But I was fucking her harder and harder, and I couldn’t cum, and the problem was that she was crying to much. So I told her to stop crying, and then when she didn’t, I just smacked her in the fucking face. Hard enough to hurt, but not enough to mark her up.”

“And I guess that brought her back to reality,” I said. “Because she started struggling and telling me to get the fuck off her. Dean was on his phone the whole time, but once he heard me smack her and saw her struggling, her came over to help by holding her arms down. That way I could cover her mouth with one hand, and pull her ass into me with the other.”

“That’s what did it for me,” I said. “She was helpless, I could use her however I wanted, and she couldn’t stop me. She just had to take it. And I came inside her, and it felt fucking great. Then we let her up, but she just lay there like a sullen little bitch and then finally curled up in a little ball on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. Just didn’t know how to deal with it all.”

“And then do you know what Dean said to her?” I continued. “He called her a good girl, like he was proud of her for taking all of our abuse. He told me later that it helps calm them down and feel better about all of it. I don’t know if that’s really true or not, but she did seem a little less frightened.”

“After a while though, I got bored and started squeezing her nipples just as hard as I could while she lay there and whimpered.” I continued. “I always edge girls, but I’m kind of an asshole about it how I do it.”

“Dean gave the girl another pill, a benzo I think, and then made her stick out her tongue, the way that girls do in selfies nowadays. He made her sit there for a while with her mouth open while he jacked off, and then told her that if she spilled a drop of his cum, she would have to lick it up from the floor. She took it all though. Then he asked her if she liked the taste, and she said no, and sounded pissed off about it. Like she was some reluctant fucktoy.”