Prelude

"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?"

Chapter 1 »