What the hell! I want to know more!

yes

File removed. - ( )

Ty for comments! It really inspired me to write more. :) Tags for this chapter - (Fast food uniform, slut, domination/submission, [spoiler]choking fetish[/apoiler])
~~~
She was gone, like a dream, or rather a bad smell to most of the people I knew.

I saw her standing outside the school gate some time mid May. She was wearing a Baskin Robbins uniform and sucking some brown liquid through a straw. Her hair was tied back into a small ponytail now. She smiled when she saw me and stuck her hand high in the air, “Anon! It's been ages!”
I smiled despite myself and shifted the weight on my back, “Nikki,”
Before I could say much else she was hugging me. Her chocolate shake wrapped around so that the straw was next to my lips. I turned my head and sucked some out.
“Hey!” She pulled back, “Rude~” she giggled and bit her straw, “So how've you been?”
I shrugged and put my hands in my pockets, “How come you never texted me back?” Yup, first words out of my mouth were an accusation.
Nikki lowered her drink and held it just in front of her belt, bowing her head, “My phone was stolen, I didn't know you'd been texting me. I haven't been able to afford another one.”
“And MSN?” My hands instinctively went to my hips, but I didn't mean to act like she was in trouble.
She flicked her hair, “Deleted it,” and poked her tongue at me, “Do I look like a fucking nerd? I don't use MSN anymore.”
I turned my head to the side to think of a response, when I did I saw a bunch of boys looking at us, giving us the dirty eye.

Nikki followed my gaze and quickly grabbed my hand, “Oh not this again, c'mon.”
We ran for about 200 meters, a long way when you're carrying a backpack full of books, when I couldn't keep up we slowed down to a walk. “You gotta get fit anon,” Nikki giggled and had some more milkshake, hiding her own heavy breathing, “There's nothing like fucking an athletic man you know.”
I probably looked a little more embarassed than I meant to, “I've never been good at sports,”
“And you never will be with that attitude.” she pointed at my chest, “You don't need big muscles but sex is hard work. How do you expect to keep thrusting away if you just run out of steam?”
I crossed my arms, annoyed, “Well aren't you meant to help me with that? You're my practice partner after all.”
Nikki laughed, and slapped my shoulder happily, “That's like a year ago!”
“What? So...” I cut myself off and just looked displeased, “I never said you could quit.”

Nikki smiled and stared at me a little while, then she flicked her head, her ponytail whipping her cheeks. It was a gesture I would later come to associate with her as a quintessential Nikki thing, it was her 'I'm thinking' face, “I guess I never did get to fuck a rocket scientist.”
I laughed, “I'm not a rocket scientist.”
Nikki feigned shock and folded her arms animatedly, “Then I'm not fucking you!”
“What? Hey!” I held up my hand to touch her shoulder but she dodged away.
She winked, “Anon, when you're with me, you're a rocket scientist. Got it? You're my rocket science, penis guy who I'm teaching to be good with the ladies.”
“It's pee-ah-NIST,” I corrected her on reflex.
“Penis.” She leaned forward, saying it over obstinately, “Penis, penis, penis!”
It wasn't the first time we'd had this terribly mature conversation. Nikki had a problem with being corrected, and it combined well with her stubborn streak which ran a mile wide. It's probably why she never got along with teachers, and why she was serving icecream instead of learning math.

I shifted the heavy bag on my back and we started walking. We were going towards the shopping center, called it The Dome back then. On the way there we caught up about the Summer break. She asked me questions about Ron and mum, what I got for christmas, how my big sister was. When it came to her though she was skillfully evasive. I never really pressed her, truth be told I was a little worried about pissing her off. We walked around The Dome, going past the arcade, the food court, when we got to the Virgin Mobile store Nikki elbowed me in the ribs, “Hey look, they named a store after you!”
“What the hell!” I said in a loud, high-pitched voice.
Nikki laughed and patted me on the shoulder, “I'm just messin' with ya anon.”
“Yeah I know,” I sighed and let it go, “Hey Nikki,”
“Hey Anon.”
I paused for a little to think about this, “Well, you remember how I said I got straight A's?”
Nikki shrugged and looked at me, sipping her milkshake.
“Well my dad said he'd get me something if I did,” I looked away, chewing my cheek softly.
“You don't have a dad,” she reminded me.
“I kinda do,” I said said sheepishly, then I looked at her, “Anyway, I can get him to get me a new phone, and give you my old one if you want.”
Nikki laughed so hard chocolate came out her nose, “Then we'll both have virgin mobiles!”
“Hey!” I reached out to grab her but she ducked away and started running off.
“I gotta get back to work!” she yelled across the floor, holding up her wrist, “Come by tomorrow!”

Well what's a guy to do? Ron was working at a different site at this stage, but I still wanted to talk with him about this. It was a slightly bigger house, in a nicer area than the last one. Sure enough though, there he was sitting by the fence at day's end, drinking his beer and listening to Pink Floyd. “What're you doin' out 'ere?” He was pretty drunk, must have started a while ago. “Get lost on yer way home?”
I shook my head and explained what happened today. Ron took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled in a long, thoughtful puff. “So she's back huh? Young Nikki Fisher.” He flicked the ash off his ciggarette and put it back in his mouth. “Yer mum said she was expelled.”
I shrugged and looked away.
“I guess it happens. Shit happens,” he took a swig of his beer and a drag of his cigarette, then he threw his head back, “Shiiiiiiiiiiiit happens.” He closed an eye and looked me dead on, taking his cig out and gesturing at me with it between his fingers. “That bird's trouble,” I must have frowned, “Now don't you go lookin' at me all dirty!” Ron yelled, “I'll clip your ears till the cows come home. I'm jus' sayin'. She is one'a the sweetest, loveliest, nicest girls your age I've met bar your elder sister an' mother when they was younger. But I'm tellin' yer anon. Girls like that can mean the worst trouble you've ever seen.”

I looked down thoughtfully, I had a mind not to listen. I'd like to say I started yelling and gave old Ron a piece of my mind just then, something like 'You don't know shit' or let my fists do the talking, but that's just not the kind of kid I was. Ron put his cigarette out and swilled the ass end of his beer down, “You're not gonna listen are ya?” I looked up at him questioningly, Ron spat, “Nah you're not. Girls that are trouble are the best kind right?” He gave me his off-kilter grin and winked, “Well, remember what I said, so I can say 'I told you so' later.”
I smiled a little and leaned against the fence, “Sure Ron.”
“So what'd you come here for,” he finished his beer and tossed the bottle absently in the back of his ute, “It wasn't because you wanted to listen to an old drunk or because you were seein' Nikki again. You want money for somehin', what happened?”
Bloody Ron could read me like a newspaper. I told him about the phone sheepishly. He nodded sagely and listened politely. After I finished he spent a small moment grinding his teeth. “So you told a lie about your old man.”
“Yeah.”
“Your mum know your here?”
“Nah.”
Ron nodded, “I'll give her a ring.”
“Don't tell her!” I pleaded, smacking the fence.
Ron grinned and shook his head, “You shouldn't-a told a fib, Anon.”
“C'mon Ron, please-”
“SHADDAP!” He barked, phone already to his ear.

The phone conversation went over the regular pleasentries. I remember my stomach sinking through the floor while I listened.
“Yeah he's with me. ---. No, no, don't worry, I'll bring 'im home. ---. Hahaha yeah yeah, I know. ---. Yeah, hey listen, there's one more thing.” He looked over at me, still grinding his teeth, then looked away, “My son Jayden's getting a new phone, and they got a twofer goin at Virgin. ---. So yeah I was thinkin' Anon could probably go fer a new one 'imself. ---. Nah nah, NO. It's a GIFT. From me. ---. Stop thankin' me, it's fine, I've known 'im since he was in diapers. ---. He was top'o the class last year wasn't he? Yeah well it's a present. Commemoration. ---. Okay, see ya then. Bye.”

I looked like a stunned mullet, I must have. “Thank you!!”
Ron's expression soured and he gave me the worst frown I'd ever seen, “That's the first and LAST lie I'll ever cover for you Anon.”
“Thank you thank you thank you soooo much!”
Ron couldn't help himself and smirked a little, “Yeah well now we don't have to talk to that other guy and worry yer mother.”
“I'll pay you back somehow I promise,” I clapped my hands together and bowed my head.
Ron smacked me softly, “Stop that. I'll forget about it this time, but next time you gotta work it off.” He walked over to his ute and opened the door, “C'mon, let's go get yer phone.”

The next day I walked into Baskin Robbins. Nikki lit up when she saw me. She was wearing the uniform, a black polo under a black apron with a pink rim embroidered around the collar and BR31 in white on the breast. Her bright hair was in a ponytail which sat smartly over her sun visor. “Anon!” She beamed a smile so bright the sun could eclipse it. “Welcome to Baskin Robbins,” she flared out her apron, “I'll be your sexy icecream girl Nikki Fishi!”
I chuckled, “Very nice.”
Her nose scrunched when she laughed again and we talked about school idly for a few minutes. After a short time I ordered something random and she gave it to me for free. “Are you sure?”
“Pff, who cares?” she rolled her eyes.
“Well, I was gonna pay with this but...” I showed her my old phone and held it out over the counter.
“Your phone!” She looked genuinely shocked, “You can't!”
“I can!”
“You didn't!”
“I did.”
“Oh my God!” She squealed and took the phone gingerly, not believing it was real, or maybe she was afraid the little Nokia would disintegrate when she touched it, like a lie. “Oh but I can't take this...”
I shrugged, “I insist, it's a GIFT. Look,” I showed her my new one, “It's not like I need it anymore.”
“I got a virgin mobile!” She yelled and threw her arms around me, kissing me on the cheek over the counter.
“Hey hey...” I pretended to be annoyed but I didn't stop smiling, “Don't lose this one yeah?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes, “I wooon't,” she whined, “Hey, just wait there, I wanna come back to yours, I'll get the afternoon off work.”
She came out of the back room talking to her colleague and yelled over her shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, I owe you. It's fine! I'm off, see ya!”
Her colleague, a dumpy looking brunette folded her arms under her chest and waved politely at her and I.

We ended up back at my house at about 5:00. My grandmother wouldn't stop talking to Nikki, so we didn't get back to my room until about 5:20, and my sister invaded my room to chat with her again, so I just played the piano like normal. My mother came home at the usual time and appeared at my doorway, hands on her hips, “Well what's going on in here?” she asked in an unusually jovial manner.
“Nikki's over,” I said, not stopping the finger drill.
“I can see that,” she took a tone pretending to chastise me, “Is our guest staying for tea?”
“Uhh, I dunno...” my sister and I looked at Nikki.
She took a second and unfolded her legs, “Is it okay?”
Mum smiled, “Of course it is dear, what time are you expected home?”
Nikki cleared her throat, “I umm, I'm not expected home. I don't live with my dad anymore.”
I fucked up the finger drill. We all looked at Nikki, but mum didn't seem to miss a beat, “Oh that's surprising!” She said, “Where shall I take you? You're welcome to stay here the night if you like.”
Nikki laughed, “No no, that's fine. I live at a...” she looked at me and paused, then back up to my mum, “I can't say exactly, but they're friends. If I'm not back by midnight they'll come looking for me. I'll tell you the address later.” Nikki was too embarrassed to say it in front of me there, but I learned much later, years later in fact, that she was living at a secret women's shelter. Which also explained losing her phone and email address.

After dinner and practice Nikki went home with mum, she just said I wasn't allowed to come. We kept in touch by text for a couple days, which must have been hard for her because I found out later that having a phone was grounds enough for losing your spot in the women's refuge. The shelter she was at works by being an absolute secret from men, and any communication device, computer, phone or laptop is strictly prohibited. Even when I did a little digging years later I never found out it's exact location.

I was at The Dome with my little brother on Saturday. We spent some time at the arcade and went to get icecream after, Nikki was working. “Heyya, Oh my God it's Tommy! You've gotten so big!” She gasped, seeing him.
“Nikki!” my brother was happy.
She patted him on the head, “He's like a younger, cuter version of you Anon,” she winked at me, “I might have to trade up!”
“Are you still going out with my brother?” Trust a kid to bring up something awkward.
“Pfft!” she giggled, “What do you think?”
“Hmm...” he looked up at me, then back to Nikki, “I think you're too cool for him.”
“You little shit!” I twisted his arm. The pecking order for my family went with who could twist who's arm, so it was obviously my sister, me, my brother. He was laughing pretty hard despite me wrestling him into submission.
Nikki laughed and eventually smacked me, “Stop bullying your little brother.”
I sighed and let him go, “Sorry about that.”
“No you're not!” Tommy chimed in.
“Shut up and pick your icecream, one scoop.”
“One~~~?” he whined, I frowned and he gave up.
Nikki held my cheek, leaned over and kissed me on the lips. I closed my eyes and kissed back. It was nice, and I realised how foreign kissing Nikki like this felt again. Romantic, soft lips against mine. I wanted to hold her again, recapture that time last year when she came over to listen to my piano.

“What was that for?” I whispered to her, so Tommy couldn't hear while he was picking between chocolate and double super chocolate.
Nikki glanced down and then her eyes met mine, naughty, “Seeing you with kids.” She leaned forward and licked my earlobe softly, “Nothing makes a girl's ovaries ache more than seeing a guy who's good with children.”
“Your-!” I cut myself off and swallowed hard.
“This one!” Tommy chimed in, pointing at the screen. Some sort of mega chocolate bonanza flavour.
Nikki skipped over and filled out Tommy's order like nothing happened. I gave him the money to pay and she took it graciously. “You should come over!” Tommy said, licking his icecream.
Nikki looked at me and giggled, “You're even better at making moves than your older brother.” She laughed and patted him affectionately, “You've got a lot to learn Anon. He's a natural ladykiller.”
I folded my arms and looked away, biting back a retort.

We came home together, I wasn't sure if Nikki was allowed to skip work like that or not, but part of me didn't really care. As soon as we got home Tommy pulled Nikki onto the playstation. Nikki giggled at me and said, “Why don't you play us some background music?”
“Oh come on,” I complained.
A wild sister appeared and pulled my ears apart, “Hey Anon, did I just hear you complain about practice?”
“Ow ow fuck off.”
“Come on, play for your little brother,” my sister chided me, “Mum and Freddie haven't heard your pieces in ages anyway.” Freddie was my stepdad, Tommy's father. He was over since Tommy and I were spending the day together.

I played the drills for the first hour as normal. After I was done I put together a small concert of all the pieces I was confident with. It ended with a Debussy piece I'd been practicing. It was fairly fast and flamboyant, I quite like it even now. After I was done I looked up and saw Nikki laying against the instrument. She'd closed my door. I didn't say anything, and shifted over on the stool, patting the spot next to me, where she sat slowly.

We looked at eachother, and she put her hand on my chest. Her eyes kept darting down to my mouth and she must've felt my heart leaping out of my chest. We kissed, “You've gotten a lot better,” she whispered.
“At piano or kissing?” we kissed again.
“Both.” She got up, tugging my shirt collar for me to follow her. She pushed me down on the bed and climbed over me, kissing my neck and cheek in quick succession.
“My whole family's over,” I said softly.
“Tommy and Kait are playing playstation, your mum's talking to Freddy,” she said softly, “and if I wait for you, it'll take a million years.”
“Am I... are you...?” I didn't really know what to say.
“If you play your cards right,” she seemed to know at least.

She got up to close the curtains. With the afternoon sun beaming on them, it gave my room an otherworldly glow. I sat up on the back of my hands and watched her as she pulled her ponytail out. Her hair fell lazily over her shoulders now and came to her upper back, still dead straight except for the ponytail kink. When she turned to me she looked down and slowly drew her fingers over her black polo top, down her front she traced a line, and then she quickly unbuckled her belt and slid her hips out of her pants. They dropped to the floor, leaving her in bottomless wearing only deep purple panties, “There's the goal, Anon.” I must have been staring, I glanced up to her and she looked back encouraging.

She straddled my lap like a lapdancer and draped her arms gently on my shoulders. I was hard like diamonds, and even though my mouth was agape something had caught my tongue. She kissed me, and I responded by pressing my hands against her lower back, that made her arch and moan enticingly. She pressed my face between her clothed breasts and I inhaled deeply. She sighed long and hard, her eyes probably closed. In between kisses she talked. “Mmf, my body. Is yours.” she said slowly and sat back on my lap, “My body's yours, but you're not exactly ready yet I think.”
“I am!” I frowned and held her hips, “Nikki I-”
“Just a sec,” she put her finger on my lips, and grinned, leaning forward, “I'll take your virginity, I promise. But I want you to take something off me first.”
“What?”
She looked away, “It's hard to describe.”
“Well that's not very helpful.” I frowned a hole through her
“Do you trust me?” she said coyly. I nodded. “If you trust me. I wanna turn you, Anon Ymous, into a proper beast.”
I frowned, “What do you mean?”
She leaned against me and whispered, “Well you got me here, pantsless in your bed, fairly turned on, over the course of about a year,” she paused and I nodded. “I'm here largely by choice, it feels a lot like a favour, and you seduced me basically by being a nice guy with a piano.”
“What's wrong with that?”
“It's slow!” she said with a sigh, crossing her arms, “and if you don't have a piano your technique's basically up the river.”
“But what's the problem? I mean you're here aren't you?”
She bit her lower lip and uncrossed her arms, “I don't just wanna teach you how to fuck anon, any monkey can thrust its hips at a hole. I wanna get you to the stage where you're all a girl can think about, where she doesn't even get a choice whether she wants to fuck you or not.”
I frowned, “What do you mean?”
She flicked her hair, whipping her cheeks, “Like, when a guy's sexy enough, you just bend for him. When he touches your neck you just swoon. Five minutes and a whisper's all you need, and the next conscious decision she makes is whether or not she can get away with sucking your cock wherever you are.”

Three words. Hard. Like. Diamonds.

“So what do I need to do?” I asked, my hands gliding up her hips slowly.
“Promise you won't hate me?” she looked worried.
I shook my head, “Promise.”
She swallowed hard and looked away, “Remember lesson one?”
“What?! You mean you want me to wait AGAIN?”
She cringed, and threw her elbows up to defend her face, “It's for a good reason.”
I sat back and sighed, “Go on then.”
She came out of her shell after a couple moments and rested back on her hands, “Well, I want to teach you about foreplay,” she said slowly, reaching out a tentative hand to touch me, “See. I know you wanna fuck me, and that's great but,” she touched my collar bone softly, “Every guy wants to fuck me. You have to make me want to fuck you.”
I paused to think, and said “But you do want to fuck me.”
Her head bobbled from side to side, “Granted. But not enough. See, I can still decide whether or not to fuck you.”
I frowned, treating it like a logic puzzle, although applying the word 'logic' to a woman like Nikki was like a round peg and square hole problem, “I have to take the choice away.” I said finally.
“Yeah! Take the choice away from me, then force me to wait for you.”
“Isn't that rape?”
She shook her head enthusiastically, “It's not, because I trust you.”

I paused and rubbed my temple, clenching my teeth together and frowning, “I don't understand,” (and I still don't truth be told).
“It's like this,” she lifted my hand and put it around her throat, “I know you won't squeeze, so I put your hand there,” she lifted her head so I could see my palm against her jugular more clearly, the soft, warm flesh under my fingers, “But I don't really control you, so I could die,” her voice was just a whisper, “I could die. You could kill me. Right now. End me. All it'd take is a little squeeze and I'd be gone.” She pressed her face close to mine, so it filled my vision, “Don't you want to kill me, Anon? Kill me, the worthless slut who'll fuck anyone but you? I tease you in front of your brother, I make you hard and deny your cock, just squeeze and I'll be gone, I'll choke to death in your hand and I won't be able to stop you.”
I yanked my hand away, “I don't wanna kill you!”
She held my wrist, “I know, I know.” She smiled, sweeter this time, “But I trust your hand to be there, even though that's all going through my head I trust you not to choke me. Sex is like that.”
“Sex is like killing you..?” I swallowed dry and frowned.
She shook her head and removed herself from my lap, sitting next to me, “It's about the emotion, and the trust. The emotion I experience with your hand there is fear. When you kiss me it's excitement. You have to mix them to fuck me properly. Fear and excitement.” She held my hand, and looked at me earnestly, “Am I going to get raped? He's pulling my hair, he's contorting my body. Oh god I'm not in control anymore! What did he say? Shit I missed it I was too busy staring at his chest, his body, his...” she breathed on my ear, “His dick... oh god it's huge, hard. He's going to fuck me with that, I don't... I don't have a choice. I love him after all. He won't hurt me, I love him, I trust him. It'll feel good.”

I looked at her and nodded slowly, trying to absorb what she was saying, “So that's how you think during sex?”
She shook her head, “That's how I WANT to think during sex.” She put my hand up against her throat, “Make me feel like you want to kill me, but that you won't because you love me.”
I pulled her by the throat so that she kissed me. She flinched a little but accepted it nonetheless. It felt weird, kissing her like this. “We'll do a practice,” she said softly, “Like a piano piece, you gotta learn every note, then you put it all together later right?”
I nodded slowly, looking hard. I felt a little peeved and didn't understand why.
“That's a good look,” she pressed her neck into my hand and kissed my cheek, “Throw me back like you mean it.” I put my hands on her shoulders and shoved her hard, she went down and came back up, “Harder.”
I frowned and put my hands on her again, closer to her neck and shoved her down really roughly this time, using all my strength. She got back up, “Angrier.”
I growled at her and burned a hole through her head with my frown. I wrapped my hands around her neck and used my back to throw her down. She looked stunned for a few seconds, but then got back up, “Good,” she whispered softly, “I felt scared.” She looked about as frightened as she sounded, “but you stopped,” she swallowed, putting my hands there again, “Push me down, and hold me there,” her lips were trembling, I must have been radiating rage at this stage, “Show me how angry you are.”

It was like letting a dam break. I felt it was over me like rain, the anger and frustration, “Why,” I said in a low voice, “Why won't you just fuck me?!” I yelled.
She yelped when I pushed her down by the throat, I straddled her and used my weight to pin her little body. Her eyes were literally filled with fear, her lip was trembling, no, her whole body was trembling. I growled and started to squeeze her throat, my body upright, and her hand held my forearms pleadingly while I talked, “Why do I have to keep going through all this bullshit?” I hissed, “Lessons? Fear? Raping you? I just wanna fuck you!” I leaned down and licked her cheek roughly, “Why do you keep making fun of me?”
I squeezed her throat again and she coughed softly, “I'm sorry!”
I spoke through my snarling teeth, “Say it again!”
She sputtered, I don't remember squeezing that hard, but her voice was a squeak, “I'm sorry. Please. Let. Me. Breathe.” We spent a minute, me looking into her breathless face as she stroked my cheek gingerly, pleadingly. Her face started to change colour.
I released her throat, and I saw a tear roll down her eye as she hacked and sputtered, her breathing ragged. I looked down at my palms in horror.

“That was good,” she whispered, I started to get off her, breathing hard because I couldn't believe what just happened. She coughed again, “It was hard to tell you were acting,” she laughed nervously, patting my back. The scary part was, I wasn't sure that I was acting. I buried my face in my hands. I almost choked a woman to death in my own fucking bed, with my brother and sister playing playstation in the other room! I was freaked, I felt freaked. My breathing started to quicken and I felt emotions well up inside me, fear mostly, dread, overwhelming remorse, guilt. I felt her arms around me, and her chin on my shoulder, “Heeey~” she whispered, settling me down, “Hey big bear, don't cry.”
I took a deep breath and tears started rolling down my cheeks, “I could've killed you.”
“But you didn't, I'm still here. Shhhhh,” she patted my cheek gingerly and kissed the crown of my head.
I looked at her, breathing in gasps, “I could've. I was so angry with you.”
She sat back on her calves in lotus position, “I know you were. You always were.”
I buried my head in her chest, “I'm sorry,” I said in a pathetic whisper.
She patted me again, “I know you are Anon, I know you are.” She kissed the top of my head again, the gesture was unusually motherly, “Most men are angry, and bitter like that. You need to get over that before you can really give yourself to me.”
“But how can I fuck you now? How can I even think about-” she pressed a finger to my lips to silence me.
She kissed me, “I forgive you.” She looked at me hard for a second, “Most women wouldn't, but I do.”
“How? Why?”
She shrugged, “I knew you'd stop,” she looked to her side, in the distance, “and I've had worse things happen to me than a bitter virgin pretending to choke me.”

I looked down, the silence was thick in the air. We didn't talk for a while whilst I was lost in my head and Nikki was lost in her own little labyrinth. She broke the spell that came over the room by putting her hand on my shoulder and quoted spiderman, putting on an old man's voice, “Now you understand your power, Peter Parker. And with great power, comes great-”
“Please don't.”
Nikki laughed and hugged me, I hugged her back. I laughed too, and we just held eachother for a little while. “I'm serious though” Nikki whispered, “We're not having sex right now, but when we do, that's the level of emotion I want to feel. You have the power over my life, just by being a man. Accept it, the only reason we haven't had sex yet is because you just haven't decided to rape me.”
“That's so fucked up.”
She shrugged, “It's true. Any man has the power to rape any woman. They just choose not to.”
I stayed quiet and held her. It was like she was speaking a dark truth, a dark truth she'd come to accept a long time ago. What kind of fucked up life had this broken creature led?

She sat back in lotus position and kissed me on the forehead, “I trust you with this power now, Anonymous. I know you'll never rape a woman,” she was looking at me so seriously, all I did was nod. “I'm going home now,” I nodded slowly.

Crap crap crap, extra tag for Chapter 2 - nosex

Nice,keep it coming!

This is seriously impressive. As frustrated as I had gotten with Nikki's teasing, him choking her like that was intense. This is great work and I can't wait till the next chapter's up.

this is the greatest thing I have ever read

I really don't know what to say. I don't want to describe it or say how I feel. That would just kill it. Just please keep writing.

Wow thanks guys! Feels great to have that kind of encouragement. I'm afraid this chapter hasn't turned out as good though. Tags for this chapter - (Schoolgirl, Asian, whore, sexting, nosex)

~~~
I didn't sleep that night. When it was dark, I looked at the back of my hand, then turned it over to my palm. I closed my fingers slowly, until my hand was a balled fist. My arm dropped to my side and I stared at the black ceiling. I don't really know how many minutes passed like that, how many hours. I just kept staring at the ceiling, eyes searching for a reason, Nikki's words playing and echoing over in my head endlessly. The only sound I could hear was my little brother's snores.

I got up for a drink and checked the time, 2am. I didn't feel like going back to bed, so after I poured my water I flipped on the TV. The abbuster 9000, the weather, hot Russian women living alone, nothing on. I settled for the weather. Back then when you watched the weather on SBS late at night it would just be a picture of the world, with scrolling text along the bottom, soft classical music. It was probably so that old people could get to sleep. It didn't work on me.

My sister came out around 3am, stretching. She was wearing her usual pale yellow nightgown and her long blond hair was sticking out everywhere. She saw the tv on and picked up the remote absently. “I'm watching that.”
“YAH!” She yelled in surprise and flung the remote at me. I deflected it.
Despite how everything must have looked, I didn't talk, and neither did she for the first few seconds. She looked at the TV, the ambient blue light from it reflecting off her face. “So...” she broke the silence awkwardly, “You get dumped?”
I didn't move, I just sat there, eventually I said, “Not really...”
She looked at me and bit her cheek gently, then she came over and sat next to me. I was expecting her to pay me out at first, but truth be told she never really paid me much attention to me or my life except as an annoying little brother. Maybe that night she thought she should be a good sister, maybe she didn't like seeing me upset. Either way, she came over, sat next to me and took my hand.

I put my head on her shoulder, and she patted me softly. Somehow it was the same kind of gesture Nikki used on my when I was upset. Calming. I think I fell asleep like that, resting against her. The next thing I remember was the sun rising, and her being asleep next to me. I got up from the couch, and she laid down across it. I moved over to the window and watched as the sky changed colour. The early morning news flicked on eventually. It was in Brazilian.

My sister woke up when the birds started to call. Australian birds are rather noisy. She switched the channel to a local one and came to stand next to me. Still quiet. “In other news,” the TV was talking, “A twenty-three year old woman was abducted last night as part of what appears to be a series of kidnappings being aimed at women in their early twenties. Police are advising caution to all residents of Darra and to alert any suspicious information to-”
“Why doesn't he just stop?” I said it quietly.
“Huh?” she put her hand on my shoulder.
“That guy on the news,” I said slowly, looking at the TV, “Why doesn't he just say, 'you know what? I don't want to rape a woman today.'”
I felt her shrug, “I dunno. Some people are just jerks?”
“But he's...” I paused, thinking of how I wanted to say it, “He's like, putting effort into being a jerk. Like, it's really hard to rape someone, really dangerous. He bothers to go to a park, he waits in a bush, probably for hours. Then when he sees someone he can get he jumps out, attacks her and spends the rest of his life running from police. Just to have sex with someone once.”

My sister was quiet for a little while, but eventually she span me around, staring at me with her deep blue eyes. “Rape and sex are different.”
I frowned, “But how?” I stared at my palm again and made a fist. This is probably the conversation I like to remember least with my sister, “I'm strong,” I said with finality, “I could rape any woman I wanted.”
She sighed, “But would you want to?” I shook my head, and she continued, “You'd rather have sex right?” I nodded, “That's the difference. It's in my Psych202 class. Rapists don't see the sex they have as sex. They exert control over their environment. They do it to cause pain, not pleasure. Sex is like a weapon to them, a knife they stab with. That's why rape is considered 'a heinous crime perpetrated against the individual and community' and convicted rapists are sent to jail.”
I probably looked troubled, I turned away, “I don't want to rape anybody.”
My sister laughed and slapped my back super hard. I stumbled forward, “You better not!” She walked off, the conversation over, “I'd have to come arrest you!” She was training to be a policewoman.

I spent the rest of my Sunday walking around like a ghost at The Dome. I didn't really want to be around my family, and I ended up at Baskin Robbins. Nikki wasn't working, so I bought an icecream and sat outside and just watched people for a while. I watched them, wondering about rape. Women were everywhere around me. Asian women of every flavour, Africans, whites, aborigines, older women, pregnant women, women with kids, redheads, teenagers, children. All women. All women with the same basic functions of womanhood that Nikki had. All women that could be just as hurt and just as abused as she was. I was thinking some pretty fucked up shit that day, wondering about humanity and what it was really like. The kind of world that could spawn a girl like Nikki and a guy like that serial rapist. In a way they were like two sides of the same coin, both spawned from the same underlying symptom in a sick, twisted system. Nikki said it best, any man could rape any woman, the same way as any woman could get raped by any man.

I wondered what the difference really was between me, or any guy for that matter, and that rapist. Fear of the law? The consequences? About when I was thinking this, I was watching an eight year old girl tugging on her father's jeans. She had olive skin, tiny little legs, and a round, angelic little face. Her hair was sun-bleached blond and she had dark freckles over her nose with a mole on her left cheek. Her father smiled down at her and picked her up, beaming a big grin and kissed her on the cheek lovingly. They walked in to Baskin Robbins and picked ice cream flavours together.

He wouldn't rape her. Happiness. His existence centered around that little girl's happiness. Was I the same as him? I looked down at my hand again, and tried my hardest to imagine that eight year old girl's neck in it. I put Nikki's expression on her, her struggling, her tears. I went further though with my imagination. I killed her in my hand, tried to imagine how it would feel, what it would look like. A limp, eight year old body dangling from my arm. Her life gone, laughter gone. She'd never eat ice cream again, get the chance to kiss a boy, wear a pretty dress, graduate highschool. Never get married, never have kids. When it all occurred to me as a very real and twisted possibility I took a deep breath and dispelled the image. There was definitely more to me not wanting to do it than just fearing the consequences.

“Can you help me with my homework?” Dee was talking to me. It was Tuesday and I was still stuck in my reverie. Deborah Lang was a woman in the honours stream like me. She had long brown hair that went halfway down her back and slightly tanned skin that was smooth like butter. She was tall and filled out the girl's uniform well, and netball training gave her thighs that some women would kill for. I looked up and met her large, half-asian eyes. We were at the end of Math class and Smiddy had just walked out of the room. “Anon?” Dee forced a smile. I was going to respond with my usual, “Sure, whatever,” when I heard Nikki's voice resonate in my head, 'you have the power now, anon.'

“Sorry,” I said, “I was a million miles away.” I cleared my throat and looked back out the window.
“You mean kilometers, Anon? We're not in America,” she was such a smart-ass.
“I was leaps and yards away then, Guv” so was I.
She laughed and sat down at the desk in front of me, “C'mooon, help me with my homework.”
I looked at her with my cheek in my palm, “You're a smart girl, why can't you do it?”
She looked exasperated and slammed her homework papers on my desk, “What the hell! You helped Stacey last week!”
I glanced to my right and saw Stacey watching and bit my tongue. I wrote on the back of her paper in pencil, 'You're smarter than her.'
She frowned at the message before I rubbed it out, and then she wrote me back, 'Well you're smarter than everybody!'
I bobbed my head, fair comment, she rubbed it out. 'You can do this one yourself. I believe in you,' I wrote. She looked disappointed, but seeing no other course, she picked up her stuff and left. I didn't notice at the time, but she didn't actually give me a chance to rub that out.

I didn't think anything of that encounter until about two days later when I heard “Anooooon!” It was Dee. She ran over to me from her circle of friends and flashed a bright smile, “I did it!”
I smirked, “You blew up the science block?”
She laughed, “You're so weird.” She put her hands on her hips, “I did my homework.”
I shifted my backpack on my back, “Oh, well good for you.”
“Is that all you're gonna say?!” her mouth flew open and she glared at me.
“Umm,” I opened my mouth to talk, and for some reason Nikki saying 'lesson one' entered my mind, “Why don't we talk about it later? I gotta get to class.”
Dee smiled and stood up straight, hands still on her hips, “Okay then. Do we have maths today?” I nodded, “I'll see you there then!”

'You have the power,' so I politely told her to stuff off. 'Lesson one' and I told her to wait till class to talk to me. But what was the power? Why was I making her wait just to chat with me? I have the power to be a jerk? Does Nikki want me to strangle Dee too? I stared vacantly out the window until math class rolled around, Dee sat next to me. “Maybe if I sit here I can absorb some of your brain,” she grinned impishly and waggled her fingers like she was casting a spell.
I looked at her and smiled, “Careful, you might hurt yourself.”
She pouted and folded her arms under her breasts. She took notes all through class, but I was lost in my own little world, I rocked back on my chair, listening to the teacher while she was scribbling equations. The worksheet got handed out halfway through and we both started silently.

“Done!” She said in an excited whisper, almost slamming her pen down.
“Took you long enough.” I laughed quietly, showing her mine.
“No way!!” She snatched my sheet and looked between them, eyes moving rapidly. “Hah! You're wrong!”
She was pointing out a miscalculation, I looked at it and clicked my tongue, “Oh yeah, oops, oh well, still 90% right?”
“Rrgh! That's so not fair!” she cried, “You didn't take a single note.”
I shook my head, “I just remembered it...” I gave her my math notebook and flipped the pages for her, all blank.
“You haven't taken a single note all semester!?” That always really messed with people like Dee.
I shrugged, I knew I was being infuriating, “It's all in the textbook anyway.”
She got up to hand the sheets in and pointed a finger in my face, “I'm going to beat you Anon Ymous.”
I laughed at her disappearing back and rested my chin on my hands, “I look forward to it.”

I idly watched Dee's ass sway from side to side under the school skirt as she walked away to hand the papers in. She was a lot different from Nikki, even though she was the same age as when I met her. I put it down to a different kind of confidence that she displayed. Nikki was all about looks, she exuded sex and sexuality like it was sweat from her pores. Everything was dicks, vaginas, and the way they interacted. She made you think about sex with a brush of her finger or the way she licked her lips. Dee was more a fierce mind housed in a body that moved like a young athlete. Sex was the farthest thing on Dee's mind, because she was busy running her own race, concentrating on her goals, using you to get ahead. Nikki invited you to wallow in her hedonistic world of lust, where Dee presented an untamed horse, a challenge. They were both attractive women, but Dee didn't have that edge of danger and taboo that Nikki did. She also wasn't batshit insane.

“Hey Anon, wait up!” Dee was calling from behind me, hefting a heavy tote bag. School was out and I was walking towards The Dome to see Nikki. Dee caught up and measured her breathing, not even out of breath, one thing I remember about Deborah Lang was that that girl could run. “My bus stop's this way,” she explained herself.
“Fair enough,” I looked ahead, “I'm just going for a walk.”
She looked at me sidelong, “With THAT bag?” she lifted the top handle to feel the weight, “You trying to give yourself a back problem?”
“Look who's talking,” I snapped back gesturing my head to her tote bag.
Dee span around and walked backwards, “Yeah but I'm on the netball team,” she grinned and pulled her sleeve back, flexing her bicep, “Gotta keep up my strength! You're just a weed.”
“Tsch!” I clicked my tongue and quickened my pace, of course that'd never work on a girl like her, my top speed was her dawdle.
We stayed quiet for a little while, eventually she started talking again, “They're putting me as a starter.”
“Huh?” I looked at her.
“The team. Our game's on in Winter,” she looked at me expectantly.
“That's nice. Good luck,” I said, shifting the weight of my backpack. I didn't realise for a very long time why I wasn't popular in highschool.

“I guess if it's not science then you're not really interested huh,” she was probably a little peeved at me.
I chuckled, “I'm kind of a one trick pony.”
“You're really tall,” she said insistently, “You'd do well if you hit the gym.”
I used to hear that a lot, I just shrugged, “I'm no good at-” I stopped in my tracks. A flash of bright red hair across the street. Dee looked at me, asked what was wrong and then followed my gaze. “What's wrong?” There was a bald guy shaking a red haired woman next to a black car.
I squinted hard, “Nikki...” I started taking the bag off my shoulders.
“You know her?!” Dee sounded startled, “It looks like she's in a fight!”
“Hold this,” I handed Dee my bag and ran towards where they were, but long before I got there, Nikki had gotten in the car and it had squealed off.

Dee ran up to where I was, and looked to where the car had sped off to, “Did you get the plate?” I shook my head, out of breath, “What about the make and model?”
I put my hands on my knees, “I don't know shit about cars,”
“Jesus Anon! What if she's in trouble!!” she threw both our bags down, “What good are you?”

“What good am I?” I was talking to Ron now. Dee and I called emergency of course, but without plate numbers, 'a black sedan' and 'a bald man with a red haired woman' didn't help the police much, so I'm not sure if they ever followed it up beyond taking our statements. Nobody else witnessed the altercation apparently. Nikki wasn't working that day, and my “Are you alright?” text was left unanswered.
Ron climbed down his ladder rung by rung and wiped his hands before answering, “What brought that on?” I told him about the fight first.
“Are ya sure it was Nikki? Lotta girls have red hair,”
I shook my head, “Not really, but that's not really the point.”
Ron nodded slowly, we moved over to the fence quietly, “What else has been on your ticker Anon? Your mum says you 'ardly eat yer dinner.”
“I...” I stopped and looked at him, he uncapped his beer and turned off his radio with a deft flick of his wrist.
“C'mon,” he said softly, “It's a girl thing. I know that much.”
I wasn't sure how to put it, and I looked for the right words for an age. Eventually I spoke up, “Have you ever... raped anybody?”

I'd never been backhanded before that. It hurts. He hit me so hard all I felt at the start was the stun, I didn't really register what had happened until my cheek started throbbing. “Ahh shit,” Ron grimaced and pressed something cold against my cheek, “Ahh shit, I'm sorry anon. Hold that against yer cheek, I'll go get some ice,” it was his beer. When he came back we switched the beer and icepack, “To answer your question,” he said with measured breathing, “No. No I have never, and will never, lay a finger on a woman what she doesn't want there willingly. Now what made you go an' say such a fucking, dipshit thing like that to me.”
Rattling my brain with a backhand was probably better therapy for me than a thousand conversations truth be told. I told Ron about what happened with Nikki, I saw him pull out two cigarettes as I went over the last few days, and he dragged them harder and quicker than I'd ever seen.

“What'd I tell yer?” Ron shook his head and looked away.
I looked at my feet, “That girl's trouble.”
He exhaled a puff of smoke, “Right, now that we've established that I'm right about ev'rythin, sounds like you've had quite the experience, young lad.” I nodded and took the icepack away, Ron looked at my eye and smiled slowly, “Ahh good, young'n tough face like that. Won't hardly bruise at all.” I looked at him, I guess I was looking for answers, but Ron wasn't particularly forthcoming with them. “Leave it with me,” he said eventually, “I'll talk to yer mother and sort it all out.”
“Don't tell her,” I said, panicking mildly.
He laughed and puffed smoke in my face, making me cough, “I look like a barmy idiot to you? 'By the way, your son strangled his cute little girlfriend a few nights ago'? Gimme some credit Anon.”

He ended up telling her he'd hit me by mistake when he was moving a plank. Also that he was taking me for 'Secret Men's Business' tomorrow to pull me out of my reverie. Mum was a little nervous, I could tell by the way she was fussing, but she trusted Ron enough to give me a cover for school and send me off with him. She believed the plank story more or less. I wasn't entirely sure what secret men's business was myself, but my sister kept pestering me about it. Said it sounded gay. Nikki texted me around 10pm with, 'Im fine :) y?' I didn't respond.

Either way, I found myself in Ron's ute the next morning at 5am. I was woken to the old army chant “Drop yer cocks and grab yer socks!” I grabbed the ruck I'd prepared last night and threw it on the back of the ute, and off we drove into the countryside. I was a little too tired to wonder what was going to happen to me, and Ron didn't seem to be in the mood for idle chat. I watched as the city fell away as we followed the highway, the radio talked for a short way and gave way to white noise when we were out of range. Somehow we ended up not talking the entire trip, Ron chewed on an unlit cigarette the entire time.

We turned off the highway somewhere, I woke up from bumping my head. The road was unsealed, that meant dirt and bumps everywhere. The suspension in the ute creaked and whined as we were both thrown around in the cab. Ron's little hula-girl dashboard toy danced along with the beat happily. I looked at the radio clock because I wasn't allowed to bring my phone, 10:30am. Five and a half hours out of Brisbane and we were still driving.

Eventually Ron stopped to open a wire cattle gate, and started driving down a long driveway. We were at a farm, I knew that much. Ron opened his mouth for the first time on the trip. “'ungry?”
“Yeah bit,” I said in response.
“Nearly there,” if I didn't know better I would have said he sounded nervous. The farm ended up belonging to one of Ron's school friends, a big, fat man who grinned out the side of his mouth. They greeted eachother with a handshake, then he took mine and almost crushed my hand. “'ow'd ya like ta work on the farm then, boy? Bit'a country'll do ya good eh?” I thought Ron's accent was broad.
“Yeah I guess,” was all I said,
“'at's the spirit,” he slapped my back so hard I stumbled forward, “Ye can start by gittin' up this hay over there. Gotta be turned by noon.”

Apparently hay can't get wet. That was my first take-home bit of trivia for Secret Men's Business. My next take-home was that Secret Men's Business was secret Ron code for enforced labour. See, it was explained, or more implied, that if I didn't do a good job I wouldn't get to go home. When I was too tired, sore and hot to complain from turning the hay, it was off to mend a fence, once the fence was done the cows had to be milked and the chickens and pigs fed.

When the sun fell we had dinner with the old farmer, chicken and eggs. The farmer and Ron played cards, I didn't stay up and went to bed. Ron fed the chickens with me the next morning. “'ow's yer face?” he asked.
“Getting better,” I smiled, something about the country air and hard work, I didn't quite have time to feel miserable, something like that anyway.
“Good kid.” Ron nodded. The roosters started singing.
“Come'n I'll show you the pets,” Ron said slowly, and we moved over to a different part of the coup. Three fat hens ran around there, with two roosters. We went about gathering the eggs. Ron managed to grab one of the tame chickens, “This one 'ere's little Ronnie,” he said. He named each one of them, the other rooster was me, one was my sister, my mother, my grandmother. “An' there's one more hen in the shed.”

We entered the shed. More accurately I should say I entered the shed, and Ron locked the door behind me. I turned around, “What's going on?”
“C'mere. Got some life to teach yer.” Ron said, moving ahead of me and lighting his cigarette with a match. In the main part of the shed was a small chair, a little window high overhead, and a single swinging lightbulb. The floor had a light covering of hay, and our shoes clunked on the floor noisily. It wasn't these little details that were making my heart thump so hard though. Ron sat himself down on the chair, and span his keys on his finger.

“You know what that is?” He gestured to the middle of the room. I stayed quiet. “It's a chopping block, anon,” he didn't wait for my response. “And what's on it?”
I felt emotions started to well up inside me, “A chicken and a cleaver.” I breathed heavy. A small raised block of wood was in the middle of the floor, and on that small block of wood was attached a fat, frightened hen. It was fastened by a brace that had been hammered in shoddily.
“Dinner,” Ron corrected, “And a cleaver.” He took a drag of his cigarette slowly, “And this dinner's name?” he lowered his voice and looked at me level, “Is Nikki.”

“Why are you doing this?” I frowned, confused.
Ron sat forward, “Because you don't know what bein' a man is, Anon.” He stared a hole right through me, “So here's the deal, the shed's locked, I got the key an' you got the cleaver. The only way outta this situation is you kill me, kill yerself,” he pointed at the chicken, “or kill Nikki. Now pick up the cleaver.”
I clenched my fist, “No.”
“PICK IT UP,” his voice cracked like thunder and my body moved without me meaning it to. I had the cleaver in my hand. “And now it's your choice,” Ron said softly, “Me, you, or Nikki. One'a us isn't leaving this shed.”

It's hard to explain to someone who hasn't done it before, but there's a big difference between eating meat and slaughtering it. I'd never had to kill an animal before, I didn't know what it was like. I was on my knees, looked at the chicken, and it was looking back with big, beady eyes. I'm not sure how much it understood, but it looked afraid enough for me. I held its neck, its feathers were under my fingers. I could feel its heartbeat, I remember the faint throbbing against my palm. I held up the cleaver over where I meant to chop and our heartrates increased, the chickens and mine. I looked into the chickens eyes and it stared back, right through my soul. The cleaver shook in my hand and I bit my cheek.

“Kill her anon,” Ron encouraged me, “Kill Nikki right now, and you can eat her.” He was messing with me. “She's just meat, anon,” Ron growled at me, “Animals are meat, people are meat. That name means shit whether it's attached to a chicken or a redhead. So kill yer dinner!”
“No...”
“KILL HER!”
“No!” I yelled back, my face whipping up. I clenched my jaw hard and in that moment I thought about the other options. A crazy flash in my head said kill Ron, steal the ute and get back to civilization.
Ron poked a finger at me and spoke very slowly and clearly, “You kill that chicken or so help me God I'll beat you.”
Something in me didn't believe him, so I didn't move, but when he got up and started taking off his belt I raised the cleaver again and took a deep breath.

There wasn't any law in that shed, there wasn't any RSPCA or animal rights greenie to tell us what to do and what not to do. There was two men and a chicken. For all intents and purposes whatever Ron wanted Ron got. He was the law here, the power... the power. I blinked when I looked up. When he frightened me and told me to kill the chicken, the only thought that ran through my head was 'how'. Ron had taken my choice away by locking the shed. Having power is the nature of being the man. But I had the cleaver. It didn't matter that Ron was bigger than me, or that he was stronger, better built and meaner. As long as I had the cleaver, I had the power.

I stood up, “No.” I said through clenched teeth.
“Whaaat'd you saaay!” Ron took his belt off and stood up, but pulled his head back when I pointed the cleaver at him.
“I said no,” I repeated for his benefit. Ron spat his cigarette out and licked his lips. “I've got this, I decide how this goes!” I yelled at him.
Ron sat back down, seeing his intimidation wasn't working anymore, his lips were pursed hard, “You'll have to kill me then. If you want these keys.”
“That's BULLSHIT, just give them to me!” I demanded, waving the cleaver around.
“No.” Ron looked at me level. I didn't bother asking again.

I lowered the cleaver, and we just stared at eachother. Ron never meant me to kill the chicken named Nikki. This was a lesson, what was the lesson he was telling me. I squatted down and folded my arms to think. The other way out of this was killing myself, but sacrificing myself for a chicken seemed beyond ludicrous. I grunted, frustrated. “What's the use of having a choice if the options all suck?”
Ron thought about the question for a bit, “More to the point,” he said slowly, “What's the use of having a cleaver, if all you can do is kill things with it.”

I looked at him in the eye again, he folded his arms. “My pappy did this to me,” he said slowly, “'e said it'd make me strong, turn me into a big man.” He paused while I listened intently. “My deal was this. I kill a chicken named after me mother, I get to keep me finger.” He held up his hand, showing his five fingers. “He did my brothers next, one after the other I killed 'em. Then my school friends. I cut a chickens head off every two months, and we'd eat it.”
“Why..?”
He thought a little, “Different time. The war was on, an' we kids had to be tough. I had to be willin' to watch all my friends and family die. Fucked me up real bad thinkin' about it. I just kept thinking, what good's this cleaver? What's it for? I got the power over life'n death in my hands, and I just use it to kill defenseless chickens. Then when 'nam rolled around years later, well, my dad expected me to go off with a big grin and shoot me some fuckin' gouks.” He paused again and sat back in the chair, “You know what I did?”
I thought a little, “You said no.”
He nodded, “I dodged conscription,” he gestured to emphasise the story, “Dad 'e was furious. 'e found me, beat be black an' blue, cursed at me, said 'you're not my son!' but I stood me ground and just said no. Killin' chickens is one thing, killing a human being is another.”

The lightbulb swung in the breeze, and we stared at eachother for a little while, “See,” Ron continued, “Power isn't the ability to kill, or in your case, the ability to rape or choke a woman. That's weakness. I think you understood that academically but you never really got it until now. Power is the willingness and stubbornness for you to stand up and say 'no'.” He stayed silent for a minute to let the words sink in, “Example, when you said no to me just now, and considered your options, one of the things you thought of was just to sit in this shed forever, right?” I nodded. “Well that's your power. You got the cleaver, I said the rules, one of us has got to be more stubborn than the other. Is it me or you?” I nodded thoughtfully, “The way I think about all this now, is a phrase. Comes from some philosopher,” he cleared his throat, “The distance between a human and a man, is the same as the distance as between the words can and won't.”

He lectured me much to that effect for the next hour or so. Eventually the farmer came in and asked if we were having chicken for dinner tonight. Ron laughed and said “Looks like salad after all,” and winked at me. We went home the next morning. I like to think I left the last part of my childhood on that farm. It had a big part in me understanding Nikki and what she was trying to tell me. Somehow as we entered Brisbane again I felt happier, like a big weight was lifted off my shoulders and I was comfortable in myself. Comfortable in being a man. Mum greeted me at the door when I came back at night and asked what we got up to, I just smiled and said, “Secret.”

Later that night, I sent Nikki a text, 'I wanna see you.' and threw the phone on my bed.
It buzzed a second later, 'were U been?'
'Doesn't matter. You in tmr?'
'Maybe. ;) ull hav 2 cum see'
I smiled, 'Ill cum in you.'
I was a little nervous about that text, it took about five minutes to get a response. I can just imagine Nikki's jaw dropping when shy little me sends something like that. 'Rude!! ;P' was the response.
'I'll show you rude...' I actually felt my shorts tenting, and drew my hand down to rub the growing bulge in my crotch.
She took a little while again, 'wut will u do 2 me?'
This time I took a while, 'Grab your hair, bite your neck.'
'lolol try harder ;) Get silly.'
I frowned and growled at the phone in the dark. 'Ill fukc your ass so hard you'll scream.'
I could almost hear her laugh, 'Oh wow!! wit whut?'
'My 9 inch cock.' Hehe Ron...
'That sounds tasty. ;)' … Thanks Ron. You're a champion.
'Your ass can eat my cock, then I'll fuck you with it.'
'Ooh~ I'm a lucky girl'
'I'll make u cum and scream, then I'll ram it back in ur little ass.'
'Ohh shit. I want it. I want ur cock in my ass.'
My mouth went dry, I didn't really know what to do next, I texted, 'use the phone I gave u.'
'In my ASS?!?!'
I laughed, 'No, ur pussy. Fuck yourself with my phone...'
'… it's not 9 inches.'
'I'll ring u when it's inside u.'
There was a short silence, followed by, 'ring in 5 minutes.'

I stroked my hardon slowly, it was like a rock. I pictured Nikki on her bed, laying back and slowly manipulating the phone inside her cunt. She'd fiddle her clit while she did, arching her back and moaning softly, anticipating the coming vibration. Her whole body on fire, her breasts heaving with her breaths while she shoves the plastic phone in and out of her cunt, that stretches to cover the weirdly shaped object. She lifts her hand off her puss and cups her breast with her free hand, while she shoves the phone deep inside, waiting for the call. I bite my lower lip and the time ticks on slowly. Nikki's whole body is trembling, all she needs is that one little push. Sweat glistens as it rolls down the valler of her breasts and then traces its way down her taut, tight little stomach. She starts flicking her clit wildly, approaching orgasm when...

I ring. “Nikki speaking!” she answers immediately.
I'm a little shocked, “Uhh, hi.”
She laughs and giggles furiously, “You didn't think I'd actually do it did you?”
I keep stroking my dick to the sound of her voice, “Well yeah... that was the plan.”
“You perv!!” I could feel her grinning her face off.
“That's not fair,” I probably sounded a little whiney.
She laughed and said, “Anon...”
“Nikki...”
“The next thing I want... in me... is you,” she said it softly, I could see her closing her eyes and smiling.
I smiled too, despite myself, and closed my eyes, “Tell me where you'll be then.”
“Food court. Saturday. Twelve.”
“Now you're not fucking me around again are you?” I put on a stern voice, but I was still smiling.
“Swear to God and all the saints,” she said with finality, “If I'm lying I really will use the phone.”
“Mmm, alright then,” I smiled, “G'night Nikki,”
She took a second, probably biting her lower lip, “You sound different now, Anon.”
“What do you mean?”
“You sound like a man.” With that, she hung up.

The next day was Friday. I was a bit frustrated that it wasn't already Saturday, but I adjusted my tie in the mirror and smiled anyway. I looked good. I felt like I was standing a bit straighter, a bit taller. Maybe I should work out. Certainly wouldn't hurt anyone, and I might be able to look even better. I styled my hair a bit different that morning, hugged my mum and went off to school.

I saw Dee before school started, she was sitting with her friends. “Oi Dee!” I called out to her.
“Anon!!” She waved back and got up off the bench to come over, smiling.
I looked her straight in the eye, “Come sit with me in class today.”
She looked a little off balance, “Where did you go the last two days? Were you sick?”
I shrugged, “I'll tell you about it in class.”
She looked away and bit her cheek, “I wanted to sit with my friends today.”
“I'm your friend,” I didn't even think before I said it.
Dee smiled from ear to ear, her brown oval eyes almost sparkling, “Come sit with us! We could all use your brain.”
I laughed and patted her on the arm, “Sure, no worries.”
“Cool, I'll let 'em know,” she turned and waved before she went, “See you in class!”

“Secret men's business,” I beamed cheekily at Dee and her friends.
“What's that meant to mean!”
“Sounds gay.”
I laughed and put my hands behind my head, “Well that's what it was.” I don't honestly remember what Dee's friends looked like, so I can't describe them. I remember that one was from England though.
“That's so Australian,” she said.
“Well,” I said thoughtfully, “You women get feminism, we men get our secret business. Fair's fair.”
“That's so chauvanist!” Dee whispered furiously, leaning forward with one of the biggest frowns I've ever seen, “What the hell Anon.”
“Oh settle, it's just a joke,” I said with a shit-eating grin.
“It wasn't very funny.” Dee folded her arm and looked away.
I gave her a look that said 'I think your taking this too seriously,' but nonetheless thought for a minute and came up with, “Alright then, how about a pro-feminist one. Why didn't the feminist cross the street?”
She looked at me sidelong, “Why?”
“Both sides were equal,” I said it straight and shrugged. Dee smiled approvingly and uncrossed her arms.
“You're forgiven,” she said, “You need better jokes though.”
“Yeah probably.” Class went a lot like that; cracking jokes at eachother and laughing along. Every now and then we'd even do some mathematics. It was an easy lesson though, and I taught them all what was going on in about fifteen minutes. By the end we'd all exchanged numbers and decided we were in a study group together.

It was strange, suddenly feeling popular, like you have friends. Before I went to the farm I'd thought Dee was setting me up for a fall, making fun of me behind my back. Now that I was sitting with her and her friends telling jokes, all I felt was that she liked my company. So what did almost killing a chicken have to do with growing up? I don't think I'll ever figure it out. All I knew then, and what I know now is, and was, very simple. A man makes his own destiny, where a boy doesn't. Somehow, in some weird way, it was holding a cleaver to a chicken's throat that taught me that, in a way that words never could.

“You know something's different about you,” Dee was saying on the way to the bus stop. I'd decided to make my own destiny on the way to The Dome, and ended up walking with Dee to the bus stop again. She was carting her ridiculous tote bag and I was looking up at the clouds as I strolled.
“Country air is good for you,” I smiled at her and kept walking.
Dee grinned mischievously, “So you went to the country.”
“Yeah I guess,” I stretched my neck, “I stayed on my uncle's farm.”
“Wow that's cool,” she said, suddenly sounding wistful, “I wish I had a cool uncle like that.”
I laughed to myself, and wondered vaguely if she would've killed the chicken, “Your family's from Asia, right?”
“Japan,” she said simply.
“Mm, I was wondering. Mine's Australian through and through,” I said idly.
“Convict ancestry?”
“You bet!” I grinned, “Stole and buggered a sheep.”
She laughed, “No way.”
“Trust the welsh.”
She hit me on the chest, “Get out!”
“I am out!”
She bit her tongue back and looked at me for a little while, “We have exams coming up.”
“Yeah,”
“You wanna come over this weekend?” She looked away from me and shuffled her feet, “You're like the best kid in the class so... you could really help me out.”
“What do I get out of this?”
If it was Nikki, I'd expect her to say something like “Me,” but because it was Dee, she just flicked her hair and said, “Japanese food,” she smiled, “My mum's a chef, so she's pretty good.” Dee whipped her head around and saw her bus pulling up, “Aw shit!”
“Sunday then?” I said quickly.
“Sunday!” Dee ran off and waved, sprinting for her bus. This weekend wasn't shaping out too bad, lose my virginity on Saturday, spend time with Dee on Sunday. I shook my head in disbelief, the miracle of country air.

It was the foodcourt where I saw her. No, it wasn't Saturday, it was Friday afternoon at The Dome. She was sitting alone, nursing a McDonald's shake. She had bright red hair, that had been sprayed into place to form a complicated beehive, pale skin with foundation that only gave away hints of her naturally freckled features, her vivid green eyes were surrounded with opal eyeshadow, that gave her a catlike expression. She was wearing a brightly sequined dress that looked altogether too tight on her, it accentuated her bust, and was so short you could see those thighs that just didn't end, covered in hot fishnets. At the end of her feet were eight inch prussian blue platforms. Stripper heels. I approached her, not knowing what to make of it, and when I came to the corner of her table, tentatively, I asked, “Nikki?”

She looked up at me in abject horror and quickly hid her face, “I don't know you,” she said quietly.
I frowned, recognising the voice, even if she was so heavily made up I that I could barely recognise the rest, “Nikki, what are you on about?”
She hissed urgently, not showing her face, “I. Don't. Know. You. Get out of here.”
I folded my arms, “What's going on?!”
She hissed more urgently, “Jesus Anon, just leave!” she sounded like she was almost begging.
It was too late though, “Who're you!!” I turned my head to see a wiry, angry bald man approaching me. He was gaunt, muscular, and his features looked like he didn't even know what a smile was. He was chewing gum, and his pale eyes were the kind that could shoot daggers when he was angry, and right now he was very angry, “I said who the bloody hell are you!!” he gestured at me with a McDonald's bag.
“It's alright,” Nikki chimed up, “He was just-”
“It's not alright!!” baldy was going ballistic, “It's alright when I say it's alright and it's most certainly NOT alright!!” He grimaced in a way that I didn't even know the human face was capable of and marched into my face, “You talkin' up my girl?!”
I'd like to say I used my newfound manliness to stare this guy down, but it went more like, “Uhh... what?”
He jabbed my chest hard with a bony finger, “You fuckin' playin' dumb with me cunt? I asked you a fuckin' question!!”
Nikki shot up from her seat and slammed the table as hard as she could, “Calm down! Please.”
He pointed at her, “Bitch you DON'T tell me what to do. You know better than that!”
“Look at him, he's just a kid!” Nikki was pleading.
Baldy inhaled sharply and raised his backhand at Nikki, who cringed and threw her elbows up, the same way she did when I raised my own voice at her. Now I know where that gesture came from. Baldy shoved my chest hard and said, “Git outta here.” turning away. I'd like to say that I did something real stupid just then. Punch the guy out for hitting Nikki. But I wasn't that guy. I walked away.

Don't know why you think it didn't turn out good. I liked it, and I'm really interested to see how things turn out. Keep if coming!

>>20129
>I'm afraid this chapter hasn't turned out as good though
Best chapter yet

This chapter had my heart beating harder. Where do you get this from?

If you don't write this info a book you're a stupid mother fucker

Well that's embarrassing, I really didn't mean to come across all attention whore-y last post, but I finished it late at night and I was annoyed at the chapter for a couple of reasons. The biggest one was that it didn't make sense for my original ending to that chapter to happen, but I conjiggered the story a little, and I like the new version a lot better.

**Important** There's now a two week timeskip just before Anon heads to the farm.

I'm throwing this up on elit entirely unedited from my text file to here because I want to draft this as soon as possible while the story's still fresh with me. Also it exists as the first online backup of my story. Because of that, sometimes a structural thing will change like the one I noted. It shouldn't happen too often.

To answer to comments/posts: thank you HEAPS for the encouragement. I was really nervous about putting the camera on Anon's development for a chapter, but I feel a lot more confident about what I wrote now.

Editing is firmly in my mind's eye. There's a lot that I want to do with this story, but first thing's first, gotta draft the main plot.

My policy is to not post without content, that's why it takes me an age to respond, not because I'm not reading them. :)

Fair warning, chapter tags are probably mild spoilers.

Tags for this chapter - (Whore, abuse, NTR, mindbreak, nosex)

~~~
I tapped my finger on the table gently. It was 11:55 at the Dome foodcourt. I swiveled my head and cast my eyes around at the patrons to look for Nikki again. Truth be told I didn't know if she was going to show up after what happened yesterday. The foodcourt was packed like it normally was on a Saturday, I bit my tongue idly and narrowed my eyes, thinking about the bald man again. No, I shouldn't get angry, Nikki said she'd be here definitely, there's gotta be a good explanation for this, there's gotta be some reasonable, good explanation. I felt a weird feeling in my stomach and looked down at my hands.

My world went black as warm hands wrapped around my eyes, “Guess whoooo~” she chimed.
It just couldn't be a certain, freckled, sex craving, virginity taking monster could it, “Jesus?”
She laughed and pulled my head back into her what I assume was her chest, “Nuh-uh, two more guesses.”
“Only two?” I complained and tilted my head back, grinning and thinking, “Morgan Freeman?”
“Pffff!” she sprayed a little pit of spittle on my cheek, “I sound like an old black guy to you? Or is that just your fantasy.”
“What's wrong with Morgan Freeman?”
She took a second, “Well I mean, I'd totally fuck him but-”
“Nikki!” She took her hands off my eyes and I found myself looking up at her grinning face.
She leaned down and kissed me. The way we were positioned, she was standing over me while I was leaning back in the little plastic chair with my neck craned back as far as it would go, so our faces were upside down. The sensation of kissing like that was unusual but pleasant, her hair brushed my cheeks gently and it smelled like cherry shampoo. She lifted her head and grinned at me with her verdant eyes, “So you got it off 'people willing to fuck Morgan Freeman?”
I smiled up at her, “Well, to be fair, I think that's a pretty big list.”
She brushed her long fingers over my throat slowly and smiled softly, “You'll have to start shaving soon,” her expression seemed a little wistful, the way she cradled my head suddenly felt relaxing and warm.
She sat down opposite me while I said, “Well I'm all grown up now.”

She leaned her elbow on the table and rested her chin on the back of her hand. While she teased me for saying I was grown up it occurred to me that this was the first time I'd seen her out of some kind of uniform... unless you count yesterday. She was dressed rather conservatively despite her personality, she was wearing a loose white top that fell away at her right shoulder, revealing her neck, clavicle and the black strap of her bra. The sleeves ended halfway down her upper arm to reveal her shapely elbows and slender forearms. It flared out in the middle and didn't betray her figure. In fact it was about the first time I'd ever seen Nikki in clothing that wasn't a size or two too small. For bottoms she just had on some comfortable looking dark blue jeans and slip on shoes.

The overall effect was that she wasn't selling herself to me anymore, maybe because I'd already been sold. She had a natural beauty that shone through in an outfit like this, and she didn't need a gimmick to say 'Hey, I'm hot.' She didn't need to tease me anymore with her tits or her ass, because today she was actually going to fuck me. Today she was mine, that incredible sixteen year old body I'd fantasized about and jerked off to was in front of me, open and willing. I realised that while her clothes weren't immediately sexy, they were easy to take off in a frenzy of sweating kisses. Practical girl. The way she dressed reminded me of the way a girl would dress around someone she'd shared everything with.

“So who was that guy yesterday?” I asked, leaning forward after some small talk.
“What guy?” She blinked and pushed her hair behind her ear, it was held back by a cute green beretta.
“The bald guy,” I blinked, confused, “Here. Yesterday.”
She frowned, looking confused, “But I was home all--” realisation swept over her face, “Oh!” she sat forward and kicked her feet under her chair, making her bounce, “You met my sister Crystal!”
“Sister?” I frowned.
She shrugged and looked away, fiddling with her hair again, “People say we look alike, I'm prettier though. I never told you about her?”
I shook my head, “She looked just like you... and her boyfriend was, -”
Nikki reached over the table and ruffled my hair with her hand, “Hey, it's not polite to talk about a woman's sister before you fuck her.” I laughed and Nikki rested back in the chair, tilting her head, “Her boyfriend's a dick,” she said simply, “I hear he's...” she trailed off and raised her pinky finger, wiggling it suggestively, “so he's, like, super mad all the time to make up for it.”

I was still a little dubious so I folded my arms, but Nikki decided this conversation was closed and slapped the table before getting up to stand over me, “If you're that interested in her Anon I'll set you up for a threesome,” she laughed and turned, throwing her voice over her shoulder as she walked away, “Coming?”
I didn't really need a second invitation and caught up to her, stopping her by holding her wrists from behind. She turned her head and her lips met mine. I span her body and pressed her up against me by pressing my palm into the small of her back. I could touch her. I could kiss her anywhere and she'd just accept. We were in public so I didn't go too crazy, just brushed my hands down her arms, and then felt her body that hid like a present to be unwrapped from the white top.

She opened her eyes when we finished, and her eyes smiled with her lips. I could see the anticipation written on her face, and she pulled my arms towards the exit, “Let's go!”
I pulled back, not moving, “No.”
She looked at me with a questioning frown but I answered by smiling and kissing her, “Lesson one.”
“What? No!” her mouth flew agape and she puffed her cheeks out in one of the cutest pouts I've ever seen.
I laughed at her expression and pulled her back towards The Dome's foyer, “C'mon, we've got all day,” I said, pausing, “And... we've never had a proper date.” I turned and tugged at her gently, expecting her to follow.
“A date...?” she sounded a little quiet, “I don't...”
I looked at her over my shoulder while I walked her to the arcade, “You don't what?” I smiled, “You're my practice partner, right?” I looked back towards the arcade, “Well how am I supposed to get a girl in bed if I can't even date one?”
She touched her cheek, and went quiet for a couple seconds, “I guess that makes sense...” she said to herself quietly, “But we're not a couple, yeah?”
I shrugged, silently agreeing for her, then I grinned and said, “Not like you have a choice, this is what I want to do.”
The next thing she said sounded oddly sweet, it happened after she went quiet for a few seconds while realisation swept over her, “... bastard,” she whispered it, and gripped my hand tighter. Somehow the way she sounded, the gestures she used, it sounded like her own little fucked up way of saying 'thank you'. Maybe that's just my imagination though. “After this, we're fucking like rabbits, agreed?”
I laughed, “Sure.”

Nikki seemed to behave a little differently when we were on our date at the arcade. She was quieter. She didn't tease me. I felt her eyes on me when we played a gun-shoot game. She laughed when we played a car racer, but it wasn't the same naughty giggling I'd heard so many times. The poignant sexual overtones in the things she did seemed to vanish. Even when we shared a mallet for whack-a-mole, my hands over hers, she didn't say something expected like, “Can't wait to touch me, huh?” and just leaned against me with a soft expression covering her features.

We exited the arcade and I shoved the tickets we'd won in my jeans. Nikki spoke, “That was fun, Anon,” she said quietly, clutching my arm.
I smiled at her, not really wanting to break the feeling I was getting from her. Eventually I said, “Not bad for practice, huh?”
It was like a switch, “Could be better,” the Nikki I recognised was back with a grin, “You had ample time to feel me up but you didn't take it.”
I laughed and hugged her around the shoulders. Whatever crazy issues Nikki had with me actually dating her, with me actually calling her my girlfriend, as long as she could pretend I was just practicing then it was fine. Maybe it was possible to have a relationship like this? A practice kiss, a practice date, a practice girlfriend. I wondered if I could propose to her and call it practice, she could be a practice wife and we'd have practice kids together. The word 'practice' went through my mind so many times it lost its meaning. I felt at the time, walking out of The Dome with Nikki on my arm, if I could just navigate her properly, if I could just talk her through her crazy head games, that I might have more on my hands than just a wild, meaningless fling.

She didn't give me the chance to think this way for long. We exited The Dome into a covered carpark, Nikki shoved me against a four-by-four and kissed me fiercely. She pressed her face against mine hard, and a sand slid deftly against the front of my jeans. She was dispelling the romance by treating me roughly, I can't say I minded really. This was the goal after all, fucking Nikki. I put my arms on her shoulders and shoved her equally roughly against the white Holden behind her. It was a raw, untamed look she had in her eyes.

This was Nikki, this was the creature made from pure lust that I'd wanted. Her tiny body trembled when I pressed mine against hers, her lips quivered, her hands held my forearms tenderly. Our mouths opened and we frenched passionately against the car, the cold, hard feeling of glass against her back and my warm body pressing her into it. Her tongue invited mine into her mouth, the soft fuzzy feeling brushed against my teeth and my tongue and I responded in kind. My hand went up her top easily, and I felt her soft body underneath, warm, tender, mine.

I reached my other hand up to glide my fingers through her hair slowly, combing it while I kissed her. Our eyes opened and met eachother when I closed my fist, holding her hair tightly. The kiss stopped when I pulled her head to the side and leaned forward to lick her earlobe softly, blowing warm air across her ear to make her shiver. “Anon...” she whispered quietly, she was mine. I pressed her into the car with my palm, then glided it up her torso to feel her breast. I grabbed it through her bra whilst simultaneously biting her exposed neck and licking along her collarbone. My tongue traced its way up her long, pale neck and I nipped her earlobe sweetly, “You're mine,” I growled at her.
“I'm yours...” she said breathlessly.

The next thing I knew I was ripped away and looking at Baldy. I felt a pain in my gut and I was on my knees. Dropped like a sack of shit by a sucker punch to the solar plexus. I didn't really comprehend events very well immediately after he got me on the floor, I remember him screaming, “What the FUCK Crystal!” and hearing Nikki yelp in surprise and agony. I took a deep breath, and met a sharp pain in my chest, while I heard her head getting smacked against the roof of the Holden over and over again, punctuated by his screaming, “WHAT. THE. FUCK. CRYSTAL!” I heard a sound that made me flinch and looked up for the first time since Baldy had arrived on the scene. He hit her, closed fisted, straight across the cheek.

She dropped to the concrete face first. Baldy knelt down and grabbed a clump of her hair and ripped it back, making Nikki squeal in pain and blink tears out of her eyes. “The FUCK is this guy?” I think saying 'Baldy yelled' after everything he said can be more or less implied at this point. For all I knew screaming his head off WAS his indoor voice. “You're meant to be at THE HOUSE. You leave THE HOUSE,” he ripped at her hair for emphasis, “when I SAY.” She yelled in pain.
“Nikki...” was all I said, still wincing in pain. I could barely comprehend what was going on, everything was going so fast.
Baldy whipped his head at me and glared with the intensity of a sun. “How does he know that name?!” he said to Nikki. “How does he know that fuck-ing name!?”
“I don't knooow~” Nikki whined, holding his hand that gripped her hair while he shook her from side to side.
“Yes you do!” he growled, “Don't lie to me cunt, or he gets it!”
Nikki looked at me with big, pleading green eyes, “He's a friend from school. We didn't mean anything by it!”
Baldy reached behind him and flipped open a button on a holster attached to his hip. He removed an eight inch combat knife from that holster and held it up to Nikki, “An' did he pay? Did I say you could fuck him?!” the knife moved under her throat, “I told you what would happen if I caught you doin' me a dirty Crystal! I fucking told you! Over and over again!!”
“No, no please, I'm sorry!” Nikki yelled, tears of fear and pain pouring down her cheeks.

While I watched the scene unfold, a feeling of grim nostalgia overtook me. The shed. A hen named Nikki being held against her will. The cleaver in my hand. Nikki was crying and pleading for her life. This wasn't a game. There was no law in this carpark, no friendly policemen coming to the rescue or rampaging feminists to tell Baldy off for hitting a woman. All that was there was two men, a woman, and a cleaver. Power. Whoever had the cleaver had the power. Baldy wasn't a man, he was a creature of unmitigated, untamable violence. It was probably amphetamines, ice, dope. He was a wild, unthinking beast, totally unafraid to hurt, rape, or kill to get what he wanted. Currently, Baldy had the cleaver.

'Get the knife' was the only thing that went through my head when I shoved him roughly from behind. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, made my eyes more responsive and I could hear my heart thumping like crazy in my ears. He whipped around furious and got up immediately, flipping the knife over to the pommel like he'd done a thousand times before. I remember being puzzled for a second as to why Baldy would hold the blade along his forearm, but it became immediately obvious when he hooked me across the temple. When you hold a knife pommel in your hand, your punch gets a LOT harder.

That was about it for my first fight I'm sorry to say. Knocked out in a punch. So much for my grand ideals, or my fantasy of saving Nikki. I don't really like to guess what happened while I was knocked out, so instead I'll use this part of the story to introduce someone to you. My father. Thomas Little was not a kind man, and his name was an irony considering the gorilla-like physique he sported. Drug dealing, assault and battery, drunken disorderly, assaulting a police officer, and just generally being a violent waste of meat. He was a quintessential biker. He was the reason my sister wanted to be a policewoman. From what little I remember of my early childhood, I am eternally grateful that he chose to leave my family in peace, and that my mother gave me her name instead of his.

“Hey son,” his deep timbre voice rolled over me along with a wave of primal dread when I came to. I blinked a few times to get my bearings, my head was spinning. Nikki was on the concrete floor of the carpark sobbing into her hands, Baldy was awol, and slumped over me was my father. I don't much care to describe him, but suffice to say everyone says he has my face.
I moved to sit up, but my dad stopped me, “Woah, woah, not too fast,” he put a big meaty paw on my chest and gently guided me back down to the ground, “You take a shiner like that and you're out for a while, it's not something you just get up from. Rattles your brain.”
He was right, a wave of nausea made my head swim even on the ground, and my ears were ringing like hell, “What're you doing here,” my voice was a whisper, but I still like to think I was communicating how much I hated him.
“Saving your stupid ass from a pimp meaner'n me,” he said with a casual heave of his mighty shoulders.
“Don't you have something better to do?” I said bitterly.
He huffed, sounding vaguely amused, “A 'thank you' would be nice. 'Thanks dad, nice seein' you again. Thanks for saving me and my bitch.' Ungrateful shit.”
I managed to get up on my elbows, “... thanks. Why are you here?”
He heaved his shoulders in another one of his dismissive shrugs, “Saw you in the foodcourt with a whore and saw her pimp giving you the dirty eye. Put two and two together an followed you all here. Speaking of two and two, how's school?”
He always asked this, no matter what situation we were in, “Fine.”
He grinded his teeth like he always did, “How's your mother?”
“Fine.”
“Sister?”
I glared at him. He knew how to piss me off, even if I didn't understand it myself. Something complicated about him pretending to care infuriated me.

This is where our regular repartee ended, me glaring at him silently and him just staring back. He turned his head to where Nikki was sobbing, “What's with the whore?”
“She's not a whore.” I'm not sure why I said that, probably just wanted to disagree with the man.
“Shit son. Sure she is! It's a whore if I ever seen one.” dad got up and moved his great frame towards her. Even if I wasn't recoiling from a mild concussion I wouldn't have been able to stop him, so I didn't try. That was the scariest thing about my dad, nobody could stop him. He stood over Nikki's curled frame, her hands over her face, and leaned down on his knees so that his great gut hung low over his belt, “Now what was your name again...” he thought for a second, “Crystal right?”
I spoke slowly, “Her name is Nicole.”
He raised his eyebrows at me, and then looked down at her, “That's its woman name, son,” he said thoughtfully, putting his hands on his hips, “Whores aren't really women, you see. A woman you can love, a woman you give respect to and wind up giving her bratty little kids that don't like talking to you,” he threw that one at me, “Your mother is a woman, for example. Whores on the other hand, well they're just sacks of meat with pretty faces that we can get money out of. That's why we give them new names, convenient way for us to tell which ones are women and which ones are whores.”
“Her NAME, is Nicole.”

He chuckled, “I see you still need some more proof,” he looked down at Nikki, and took a tone that seemed kind, fatherly, “Crystal dear, can you hear me?”
Nikki stopped sobbing into her hands slowly, to look up at my father in his eyes.
“Do you know who I am?” She shook her head slowly. “But you saw what I did to the mean bald man, didn't you?” She shivered and breathed sharply, her eyes glancing frantically at me and then up to him, she nodded softly. “So you're going to be a good girl, and listen to what I say, aren't you Crystal?” She shook like a leaf, but her jaw rose and fell. “Sit on your knees, tell my son what you do for a living.”
Nikki gasped and closed her eyes. I saw her breathing quicken and her lips purse. She mouthed some words over and over again, fighting with emotions inside her hot tears rolled down her face. My father stood proud and waited patiently, watching me watch the storm of emotions rocking little Nikki's body.

She rose to her knees, and bowed her head. She was going over the words she was about to say to me, over and over in her head. One long, deep breath. Her face lifted and her eyes met mine, those green pools filled with fear, shame and guilt. When our eyes met her lips just trembled and I heard her whimper meekly, “I can't!” she cried, bending forward and touching her forehead to the ground, “I can't say it!!” she wailed, “It's the one thing he's not allowed to know!!”
“Hmm?” he reached down and wrapped a meaty paw around her hair, yanking her head back up, so that her body was in the kneeling position again, “I thought I told you to say something, Crystal. Remember what I did to that man?”
Nikki's head was being held back, her neck was wrenched back, and her eyes were wild. She trembled and fell forward when my father released her grip, “Try again,” he rumbled, “Who are you, and what do you do.”
I heard Nikki whispering something to herself, over and over again. Her gaze met mine once more, this time they seemed somehow empty, devoid of emotion, “My name is Crystal,” she said slowly, looking at me dead in the eyes without a hint of emotion on her face, “I let men fuck me and they pay me money. I give the money to the guy who looks after me.”
“And what's the common name for someone who does that?” he rumbled softly.
Nikki took a deep breath, closing her eyes trying to shut the world out, “My name is Crystal,” she said again, robotically, “I let men fuck me, and they pay me money.” She was trying again, this time her eyes opened slowly and her trembling words exited her mouth, “I'm a whore, Anon.”
I clenched my jaw, “You're not a whore Nikki,” I argued against her, “It doesn't matter what he says.”

“I'M A WHORE!” She screamed suddenly, the words and tears and wailing exited her mouth in an incomprehensible jumble, “I'm a worthless, useless, sixteen year old whore who has sex for money!!” I watched as something broke deep inside of Nikki in that moment. It was something like the deep truth of the words she said were weighing her down, crushing her spirit. That girl who held my arm so tightly moments ago, smiled and called me a bastard softly. That girl who held me on her graduation night, the one who kissed me while she balled up my sleeves in her desperate fists. This was that girl. Something about what my dad had said reverberated with me, and it sickened me to think of it. The wailing creature in front of me, that didn't even know how to laugh or smile, the crying, downtrodden thing in front of me was truly genderless. It wasn't a woman anymore, not even human. It'd had its humanity stripped off it a long time ago, and all that was left was a pretty face and a broken mind that wallowed in darkness and misery.

“Convinced now?” my father spoke softly. I just looked back at him, my breathing slow and measured, but coming out ragged anyway. The sounds Nikki was making as she wept a flood of tears onto the concrete couldn't be made by a normal human. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly and shoved Nikki's shaking body with his boot, “On yer knees, Crystal,” he said slowly, and then looked at me, “You were always a clever lad, Anon, but you never really got human things until it was shown to you.” Why was he only ever this meticulous when it came to cruelty.
My voice was trembling, “Just, stop.” I asked, or begged him.
“Crystal, on your knees.” Slowly, Nikki's wailing started to die down, and her quivering body rose from the cement. She was fighting all of her emotions, but there she sat. An empty shell where a woman should be. “Ask her what she'd do for me, Anon,” he looked me dead in the eye, not even a hint of a smile.
“Just...” I whispered, rising up onto my feet awkwardly, “Just STOP!” I yelled, steadying myself on the car next to me.
“Did I stammer, Anon?”
I had my hand on my chest, and I was yelling as loud as my headache would let me, “You don't have to do this! You've made your point!!” He might have been taken aback by what I was saying, because he let me continue, “You can just walk away right now. You don't have to hurt anybody or prove anything. She's a whore, I get it.”
He shook his head slowly, “You're trying to protect her. You have feelings for this whore, so I've gotta fix that.” He reached forward and placed his hand on my shoulder, like any father would talk to his son, he said, “I'm doing this for you, Anon. You've gotta realise that whores aren't people, and unless you have the power to protect her, without a pimp like that bald twat she'll just be dead within the week.”

I batted the hand away from my shoulder, “What are you going to do?” I asked through clenched teeth.
My father heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes, I always wondered if Thomas Little felt even the slightest bit of remorse when he said, “I'm going to put my dick in her, and you're going to watch me while I fuck your sixteen year old girlfriend.”
“What the fuck!” I stumbled forward on my feet, but my concussion threw me off balance and I was on the floor again in a matter of moments.
“Hmph,” he said, pausing for a moment, “You always were a weak little shit, Anon. Never had any fight in you, always books, books, books.” He reached down and made Nikki's shell squeal in pain when he grabbed her hair, “To use one of these you have to be strong! To get one of these you have to be strong.” he waved her around, and she tried pathetically to get him to let go, blinking tears out of her eyes. “Can't believe you started in my nutsack.”
“What the fuck dad! Just let her go.”
He raised his voice mildly in anger, “You only ever call me dad when you want something you shit-fer-brains. You disgust me, and now I'm gonna make you regret burying your head in all them books.”

“Suck my cock.” He said it only once. I balled my fist, saying 'stop stop' over and over again. I was just begging him at this stage, there was no reasoning with this animal, and nobody could stop him unless he wanted to stop. Nikki was meek in her obedience. She didn't question what my father had said and she didn't question his will to hurt her. She turned on her knees to face him, and slowly slid her fingers up and down his tree-trunk thighs. I watched as my whore girlfriend focused her full attention on the one man I hated more than the devil himself.

She pressed her torso against his thigh, and I saw her breasts press against him. She looked up for his approval, and her hand moved to stroke his inner thigh slowly. I didn't have the strength to stop it, even though I was on my hands and knees begging him, my father would only watch with cold disdain in his eyes as he forced Nikki to service him with her body. Nikki pressed her face against the outside of his fat thigh, and slowly dragged her tongue over the rough denim, at the same time her hand moved higher. Just before her hand touched my father's crotch, I saw her hesitate for just a moment. It was just a split second that her hand froze in the middle of its action and she closed her eyes before she firmly pressed her palm against his fly, and started massaging my father's dick through his pants.

“Mm,” he said, folding his arms, “Maybe I'll have better luck if I use this one to make some kids. Wouldn't be the first bastard I've put in a whore. A lotta my whore bastards turned out to be better men than you.”
I screamed and pummeled the concrete with my fists. I couldn't stand it. I didn't understand it. I didn't understand anything anymore. “WHY!” I yelled, “Why are you such a bastard!”
“Because. I. Can.” He growled and booted Nikki in the gut on a whim. I heard her get winded, and I saw her hold her stomach and double over in pain, but a second later she was pressed back where she was told, seducing an erection out of my own father. “I'm here because I'm strong,” he said slowly, “Strength gives you power. Power to fuck whores like this,” he gestured at Nikki while she trembled and fumbled with his belt, whimpering in shame. “And power to watch a lesser man like you waste his fists on concrete.”

I stopped screaming and just looked at them. Nikki wasn't herself. Her movements were practiced, her eyes were empty and didn't even contain fear. Only flashes of guilt, slight hesitations, she'd halt her movements now and then and flinch whenever she saw I was still watching. Something about her made me think of all the crazy stuff she'd told me, just before we'd gotten to fucking. “You don't play a finger drill,” I remembered, “You just sort of... do it. But a piece is different, it goes loud and soft, makes you feel different things. Happiness, sadness. It's no different from a drill really, just fingers hitting keys, but the feeling in a piece is different.” Right now she was doing a finger drill. She wasn't playing her invention on my father. She was scared, ashamed. I could see her pleading in my mind, “Don't look at me. Don't watch this. This... this is just practice. He'll just use me, then he'll go away. It'll be just us again, Anon. Don't watch me. You're not allowed to see this.”

Nikki felt that my father was ready, and reached up with shaking hands to his fly. She gripped the zipper and swallowed hard, she looked at me with pleading eyes only once, “Do something!! Say something!! Anything!! I don't want this...”
“Stop! Nikki...” I said with a sharp breath.
She stopped, breathing a ragged sigh and biting back her patheric whimpers.
My father's temple vein popped, but he didn't move to show his anger, even his voice was slow and measured like before, “Anon,” he said in a dangerous voice, “Where do you get off on talkin' to MY whore and interrupting MY blowjob.”
My voice was shaking, but it was from rage instead of fear, “She's mine...” was all I said.

Of course I couldn't back up my words with strength. I didn't have it in me to get up, let alone stand up to my father. Something about this situation reminded me of that shed again though. The third option. Kill Ron, kill the chicken, and one more. Nikki could get away if my dad was beating me. She didn't have to suck his cock. That was my power. I clenched my jaw, “She's my wh-wh-whore!” I stumbled on the word despite myself. “I earned her. Fair and square.”
I started trying to get up again, world still spinning, but maybe a little less this time, maybe I'd have a chance. My father kicked Nikki away again, and stepped over her doubled over body. He was still about four inches taller than me. His balled fists were at his sides, I was only too aware what damage those hammers could do. “How do you figure that, Anon?” he still didn't raise his voice, perhaps he spoke even a bit softer than usual. He was pissed.

I didn't fucking know! I steadied myself on the car. This was hopeless, he was going to kill me. What was I doing here anyway. I glimpsed Nikki watching us silently, crawling slowly away. That's it, get out of here! I have to stall, “I get top of the class, every class,” I said, desperation must've been seeping into my voice, “Every fucking day I study for exams and study the piano. I work hard every day just to be a good kid. Make you proud.”
He dropped me with a punch to the solar plexus. I was winded for the second time that day. “That's for lyin' you little shit,” he growled softly. “You never did a damn thing to make me proud.”
I wheezed and coughed, he was a much harder puncher than Baldy. I couldn't speak, but the next thing I saw was my dad squatting at my eye level.
“Tell me though, did you really get top of the class?” he asked me.
I nodded slowly, “Math, physics, chem, IT.” I listed off my achievements, “I'm best in the grade in all of them.”
I swear I saw a flicker of pride come over my father's face, he put a hand on my shoulder, “And your piano? You're still at it?”
I nodded, “Every day for three hours,” I was prone to a little exaggeration.
“I'll have to come here you play again some time soon,” he rumbled thoughtfully, and looked back at Nikki, shivering under the wheel of the four-by-four and holding her knees firmly to her chest. “I said I'd get yer something if you ever topped a class, didn't I?”
I nodded slowly, clenching my jaw tight.
My father heaved a sigh on his mighty shoulders, and got up, walking past Nikki and disappearing into the carpark, “She's yours then, Anon. Have your first whore on me,” he said in his usual slow manner, before lifting his hand and waving, “And don't say I never get ya nothin'.”

>>20135

Author here, I don't wanna talk about my method or inspiration or anything before I finish. Thank you for the comment though, your post made me smile

>>20144
Damn man, Best chapter yet! I haven't been this invested in a stroy in awhile. You didn't come off as attention whoring to me, more like self deprecating. You're a good writer.

>>20144
Great story anon

for the love of god please finish this story the writing is actually amazing. has me waiting for the next chapter anxiously

Thanks heaps. I feel like a broken record saying that haha, but really. Every comment I read makes me so happy that you guys like this story. I seriously have /elit/ open all day, and I refresh it about every half hour to see if anyone has written to me. Your comments all mean so much to me. This chapter's a little nicer to the characters than the last one.

Tags - (Asian, Schoolgirl, nosex)

~~~

We walked home. Nikki didn't say anything, or look me in the eye. She had a look on her face that stared a thousand miles away. Unblinking. It chills me even to this day to think about it, the way she never blinked. It was like she wasn't there anymore, not really. The only other time I've seen that exact look was seeing an old war documentary about shell shock, a wounded soldier sitting hunched on a bench and staring at a spot on the floor three feet in front of him. That was how my first girlfriend looked after meeting my father. Truth be told I probably had it too.

We entered my house and I guided Nikki in. She dropped my hand and moved like a waif, a ghost without weight or substance. Her shaking footfalls made no noise and she made no other gesture or noise except to move in front of the couch. Nikki sat on the floor in front of the couch in our living room and hugged her knees tightly to her chest. There was no trembling, no crying, no noise, no blinking of her empty green eyes.

I don't know how long I stared at her. My sister's voice shook my reverie when she poked her head out of the kitchen doorway, “Anon!” she was grinning, “I've just put... some...” she slowed down, entering the room properly and following my gaze straight to Nikki, “... pizza.”
The silence was thick in the air in that terrible moment while my sister tried to comprehend what was going on, “Hey Kait...” I greeted her after a short while.
She looked directly at me, her face contorted into the very image of the word worried, “Anon what the hell happened?!”
I looked back at her, knowing the impact my words would have, “We... met up with dad down at The Dome.” I cleared my throat and took a deep breath.
Such an innocent sentence in any other circumstance, around my house saying that was like dropping a bomb on Hiroshima. My sister went wide eyed and clasped my shoulder, “Oh God, are you alright?”
I shook my head slowly and bit my cheek hard.
My sister looked between me and Nikki, then she held my jaw and swiveled my head so that our eyes met, “Anon, listen to me. I'll look after this. You're safe. Nikki is safe. Just go to your room and lie down. Don't touch anything.”

I nodded and did as she said, laying on my bed and taking a deep breath. I felt like I'd been holding it for hours. Nikki was safe. I was safe. I kept repeating those two phrases in my head over and over again, closing my eyes to consider each one of the words in turn. When I closed them I saw her again, properly, in my minds eye. I saw the girl with freckly cheeks and soft red hair. I saw us talking in school, and laughing together. I saw her teasing me, and wearing her black work uniform when she worked at an ice cream parlour. I saw her dressed cutely for our date, looking so mature and cool. I let go of the images I'd seen of Crystal, bit by bit. It was like Nikki and Crystal were two different people to me, with the same face, the same body. The same fucked up life.

It was a couple of hours before I heard the noise of a car pulling up outside my house. I heard some soft talking, and a few minutes later I heard the car drive off. A few moments later my doorknob turned slowly, and my sister entered the room. She didn't say anything, just came over quietly. I watched her idly while she closed my windows and curtains with a neutral expression on her face. She came over to the bed and sat on the edge, resting a gentle hand on my stomach.

She lied down next to me, and pressed my head into her chest firmly, so that my ear was against her ribcage and I could hear her heartbeat. She didn't say anything, I don't think I ever held her back. It was a silence that only people with a shared past like us could understand. Something like, I couldn't cry just then so she would cry for me. I could hear her, feel her shaking body against mine, feel her tears touch my hair and face. Tears of hatred, sorrow, and a pain so deep that we couldn't express it properly in words. Tears that must have expressed my sister's gratitude. For being alive. For not being hurt. For another reason to justify hating my father so purely and so passionately.

I didn't see Nikki again for a while after that. My sister didn't tell me at the time what had happened, but years later she told me that it was a social worker who was working on her case that had come to pick her up. It was a secret number that mum had left just for her in case there was any trouble with Nikki. When my mother came home, Kait left the bed for a few minutes to talk with her, and came back again to hold me. We ended up asleep together.

I texted Dee some time the next day, Sunday, 'Can't come over, something came up.' I was lying in bed on my side, my pillow was soaked with tears.
'?' went the first text, followed by 'and what, pray tell, could be more important than helping me with my homework and getting fat on my dear mother's delicious food?'
The comment was designed to make me laugh, but I just felt angry instead. I hid it, 'just stuff. tell ur mum im sorry.'
'What the hell! I totally don't get trig! Come help me, I'll be your best friend. :P'
I couldn't resist, I felt mad now and I had to say it, 'Fuck off already.'
I'll never know how she reacted to that text. What she did, how she felt. I don't know if she was upset with herself, or upset with me. I don't know if she yelled at the phone or went off to cry. I don't know if she told her friends about it, her mother, or nobody. All I knew was that I told Deborah Lang to fuck off and she kindly did so, and I didn't give a damn about it.

My left eye swelled up badly from the damage the pimp had done with his right hook. It looked pretty bad, and I remember avoiding mirrors for a month while it disappeared completely. I tried going to school but my mum wouldn't hear of it because of the concussion. So she organised some time off school for me, and I ended up finishing my exams and assignments from home that semester with an independent invigilator. I refused to see the psychologist or the counsellor. I wanted to deal with this the same way I dealt with everything else dad-related, like nothing happened, like I didn't have a father. I called it my extra special holiday off school.

The holidays rolled around, and I eventually decided to start my piano practice again. I wasn't exactly sure when I stopped with all the drama over the last few weeks. It was nice to feel the weight of the keys again, the melodies I could play. I started feeling better when I could hear myself, concentrate on the rhythms and pound out the velocity drills as hard as I could. I felt the piano heal me, let me think about something that wasn't a person.

My mother and Ron were drinking on the back porch one night late July. It might seem strange to be outside in an Australian winter. Let's just say Brisbane wouldn't know winter even if it wore a short dress and winked at it. I came out after playing my piece work. “Anon!” Ron grinned at me, “We were just celebrating your victory!”
I looked at him, a little puzzled, “My victory?”
He grinned like the chesshire cat, “Total. School. Domination.” He gestured towards the table and smiled. Oh, my report card.
I laughed and scratched the back of my head, I always felt a little awkward about my grades when other people talked about them. I joined them for the night with some coke. We celebrated like we always did. Talking about the 70's, talking about Ron's childhood. We talked about politics, made fun of Latham and Howard. We talked about TV, work and the family. We talked about everything except one. Mum went to bed, she always piked early, and this time she said she wanted to give us some man time. We went quiet, looking at the stars over the back yard. It was dark except for the distant illumination of streetlights.

I looked over at Ron when he was pressing the long neck of a beer bottle to his lips. The liquid swilled as it entered his mouth, and he put it down with a satisfied sigh. He saw me looking at him and he looked back, “And the best cold beer is Vic.” He chuckled at his little joke, quoting a beer commercial, but when he saw my expression he knew it was time to can the jokes. It was time to talk about that thing nobody was talking about.
I looked back out over the yard, and thought about what I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it. Finally, I said, “I want to learn how to box.”
Ron put the beer on his knee and looked at me. He just watched me for a little while, trying to get a gauge on what I meant, where I was coming from. “Now Anon, I know you've been... feeling sick lately, but-”
“It's not about revenge.” I interrupted him. I rarely interrupt him.
Ron nodded, drinking some more, “What's it about then?”
“Remember the shed?” Ron nodded, and I continued, “If...” I thought about it for another second, “If you're not... given, the cleaver I mean. If you're not given the cleaver, you have to be strong enough to take it. So you can protect what's important. So you can say no.”
Ron sat back, closing his eyes with a long sigh. It actually struck me as quite rare, Ron thinking without either tipping his bottle back or taking a drag. I wasn't sure if he'd gone to sleep on me, until he opened his eyes and looked out at the distance, “It's a hell of a workout, boxing.”
I shrugged, “I'm up for it.” I laughed, “Beats getting punched in the face.”
He laughed and took another swig, finishing it off. “I'm not sure you know what boxing is, Anon.”
I gave my smartass grin, and put on a strong accent, “Aww yeah? Puttin' stuff in boxes roight?”
He put the bottle down, “Total school domination.” He laughed uproariously.

Arrangements were made. Ron told my mother, I wasn't privy to the argument they had over it, nor did they ever tell me. Suffice to say mum would have nothing to do with another man in her life being violent and Ron was paying. He consoled my grandmother, he told me later my old nan's main concern was “But he's such a handsome boy! What if they hit his nose?” and told me his response was, “S'alright, he'll just hit 'em back!” Another story to add to his arsenal. I researched the gyms in the area, and picked one that was local enough. I organised the schedule with Ron and he'd take me after he was done at the job for the day. Three days every week.

The first day I showed my face at the combat sports gym I was feeling pretty nervous. The trainer I met was a 5'9” Thai guy that smiled the biggest and whitest smile of anyone I've ever met. Ron said that that man looked like the deadliest motherfucker he'd ever met. I'm sure he was exaggerating, but it made me smile nonetheless. Nobody else was even remotely qualified to teach me boxing. I didn't want anyone except the deadliest motherfucker on the planet. It's hard to describe to someone who hasn't been around violence before, but it's something in the way a trained fighter looks. A gesture, a slight feint, the way their eyes pay attention to your movements. A trained fighter has a presence when you talk to them that most people don't have. They can be the friendliest, most open and most generous people that you meet, but at the same time, something about their air says 'Don't fuck with me.'

Ron convinced Lao Nuk to let me train with the adults. Lao absolutely refused, but Ron asked me to wait outside while he explained a few things. He told me later that all Lao thought he knew about me was that I'd been beaten up in front of my girlfriend. It was enough. Lao's deal was only that he wouldn't go easy on me just because of my age, complaining once would have me training with the eight year olds. If anything he rode me harder than anyone else the first few classes just to test my resolve. It held out.

For training, other than the classes, Lao told me to eat as much as I could, run every day and do pushups, situps and squats every night. Truth be told, the amount that man knew about boxing, strength and nutrition could fill a small encyclopaedia. He only ever told me to do something different though when I could convince him I'd done the last thing he told me to do.

By the time second semester was starting again I was comfortable enough in my schedule. I was a minor celebrity amongst the student body the first few days back. Everyone asked me what happened to me with curious faces, I told them all I went skiing at Perisher. Lying through my teeth. They seemed happy enough with that and my evasive answers, despite me not having any photos or stories about skiing. I just said it was fun and hoped they'd move on quickly enough. The only one that never asked me about it was Dee. She ignored me when we saw eachother walking, and we didn't have class together at all that semester.

I'd decided not to talk about boxing at all with my school friends, but at lunchtime and before school I tended to either do homework in the library or sit with the boys who talked more about sports. After the first week I decided it was time to see Nicole again. I was only really free after school on a Thursday from that point on, so that was the day I was walking towards The Dome.

“Anon!” Deborah Lang was calling me. She ran up to me like she normally did, tote bag in tow. She wasn't smiling like she normally did when she saw me. Somehow I could feel an intensity radiating off me while she breathed steadily. I later found out that she'd been running straight from the school oval to the point we met every day since the start of semester, about one and a half kilometers, and she barely needed to pause to catch her breath. Like I said, that girl could run.

I'm not sure what came over her, but she put both her palms on my chest and shoved me hard. I stumbled back a bit while she scolded me, “What's going on! You weren't at Perisher on the holdays!!” She gave me the biggest frown I'd seen her give anyone.
“What makes you say that?” I threw my hands wide. Shit. Cover blown?
“*I*” she paused, “was at Perisher on the holidays. That's how I know.”
Goddamn rich family. Making happy winter memories. Cover blown. I didn't really know how to react, I just looked away, “Don't tell anyone.”
She grabbed the front of my shirt, balling up the fabric and shaking me gently, “Anooon,” she whined, “What's going on.” Her tone was less demanding this time, worried, almost timid. At least it was timid for a woman like Deborah Lang, “You didn't come over to my house to study, you fucking vanish at the end of semester. You beat my test score AGAIN,” I wasn't sure how she knew that bit, it's not like the top of the class is advertised. Smiddy must've bragged about it, “and now you won't even talk to me!”

I paused a little, wondering what to tell her. She added, “So what the hell!” threw her arms up and just stared at me.
I cleared my throat and took a big sigh. She wasn't going to like this answer, “I can't talk about it,” I said quietly.
Her hands were on her hips, “And why not?! You owe me a better explanation than that!!”
I looked at her, very seriously, “Dee... Deborah Lang,” it felt weird to use her full name, but she seemed appropriately taken aback by it, “I swear to you, on my mother's grave and anything else you want to believe in. I, Anon Ymous, am unable to talk about events that happened that Saturday in May.”
She looked crestfallen, “So it happened Saturday. But... why?” God, this was like playing the why game with an eight year old.
I put my hands on her shoulders and heaved a sigh, “It's not because you're not my friend,” I said thoughtfully, “You are. I just can't talk about it,” I shook my head in defeat, “It's related to a thing I am physically unable to mention. Like, the words just don't go from my brain to my mouth.”
“But... what is it?” she asked. If I was total school domination at fifteen, this girl was first in line for second in charge. Curious to a fault. I dropped my hands, then rubbed my temple and closed my eyes, trying to think about how to explain it.

Dee stopped me by touching my chest gently and I opened my eyes, “Stop. I shouldn't have asked that.” She said softly, far softer than her normal tone of voice. Her expression went much more serious, and her eyes fell to my chest, “We're still friends?” she asked meekly.
I nodded, “We are.”
She looked at me with the normal fierceness Dee radiated, “Then you have to tell me, Anon Ymous, the minute, THE SECOND you can talk about it. You have to tell me.” She jabbed a finger at my chest, “Deal?”
I smiled and stifled a laugh, “Deal.”

She looked satisfied with that, then stepped forward and hugged me, “Welcome back, Anon.” I wasn't sure what she was welcoming me back to, being her friend I assumed. I patted her back softly.
She ripped away from me just as suddenly and moved off, “Igottacatchthebus!” she said, jogging in place and waving, “You're too slow! Byeeeee Anooooon!” she yelled, racing off. I smirked a little as I saw her racing back. She'd probably make a good jogging partner.

Nikki wasn't at The Dome. The manager at Baskin Robbins told me she'd quit some months ago. I called her phone but it was disconnected. I left a text anyway, it bounced. Just like that. For the second time in my life Nikki was gone. I was worried of course, but my stomach didn't knot in anxiety. There was no information for me to knot over. I sipped the tip of a chocolate shake and thought about it. There was no way to contact her, I didn't know her address and noone would tell me. Nobody in my family would talk about that Saturday, me especially, so I couldn't tell them or the police exactly what happened. My sister would just tell me 'she's safe' with no other information, and Ron would tell me that it was out of my power to worry about it. That left my dad as the last person I knew who knew Nikki. I almost spat thickshake out of my nose at the thought of asking him.

I wasn't worried about my dad hurting Nikki. He'd given her to me. He had a weird sort of honour like that. Maybe his honour extended to helping me protect her, like a big, fat, biker guardian angel. She'd be better off with Satan. I smiled a little at the thought of my dad fighting with Satan over Nikki. I dispelled the image quickly and decided to go home. There was nothing I could do, and certainly nothing I could do at The Dome.

The days, and the semester passed with the arduous march of time. I never really stopped thinking about Nikki. I looked out the window of my classrooms idly, listening. That was the real secret to my grades, I just listened. I could engage my mind with the subject without too much effort, and I'd have most of my homework done in the lunch hour. Helping people wasn't a problem, I normally did it as long as I wasn't busy. I think I had a reputation as a weird library kid for a little while. It didn't bother me.

Dee came to sit with the sports boys I hung out with. They made fun of her and she acted like a tomboy. Talking with her with all the guys around was probably among the only times I really smiled that semester. With Dee around though, the boys didn't talk about porno as much. At least at first. “I can totally deal with porn!” Dee said obstinately. I held back my laughter at that. If those words had've come out Nikki's mouth... no, Nikki would have said, “Porn?! Pfft, I've done most of that shit, and I don't make those awkward fucking noises. Now how many of you boys think you have what it takes?” and wink suggestively while the boys held their pants.

When Dee saw her first dirty magazine she laughed at it and gave it back, “Omg, is this really what you guys read?” she thrust it at Ty and turned to me, “Is this the stuff that turns you guys on?!”
I smiled and looked away on reflex, then looked back, “Well, the truth is porn's just kinda, there you know?” truthfully I hadn't looked at porn since my experience with Nikki, I couldn't help but imagine her as those girls, “Like, I like looking at a woman's body, it's a beautiful thing. That's a woman's body.” I grinned at her, “You on the other hand just have a girl's body.”
Everyone's mouths flew open at the burn. Dee threw about a hundred things at me and huffed off. I apologised later and she eventually forgave me after a couple of weeks. After she came back to the group we didn't talk about porn again.

Another time when she wasn't around, one of the boys said, “I'm totally gonna give Dee the D,” which elicited an excited 'Oooooh' from everyone there.
“She's totally down for it.”
“You reckon?!”
“Not if Anon gets her first!” one of them elbowed me in the rib.
I laughed and shook my head, “She's all yours man.”
His face dropped, “For real?!”
I shrugged, “We're just friends.”
“No way!” a third boy chimed in, dubious looks all around. “No way are you and Dee just friends.”
I held up my hands and shook my head, “I have no interest in Deborah Lang.” I had to phrase this in a way so that they'd leave me alone, “I've... got a thing for redheads.”
Sage nods all around. One of the boys piped up, “But you could like...” he worked out how to say it, “She obviously likes you, and you don't know when you'll get your first redhead. So you could use her for practice.”
Those words. He had to use those EXACT words didn't he. They echoed in my mind and froze me on the spot. The next thing I knew that boy was pushed flat on his back and I was straddling his chest with my fist up and my breathing heavy and furious. Something stopped me from punching him, like a voice yelling 'STOP' in my head. It wasn't worth punching a boy for saying something stupid when he didn't know better. The other boys pulled me off him, and we calmed down after about fifteen minutes and a few apologies from both parties.
“But, and don't hurt me,” another boy was talking, “But I don't get, don't you wanna lose your virginity, Anon?”
Now that was a question that struck me. Of course I DID want to lose my virginity. That was the whole reason Nikki had been around, hadn't it? That was the biggest lie I'd ever said to myself. I loved Nikki. That was as obvious to me as the mole on my friend Gareth's face. I just didn't know how to make her love me back, how to bring her back from whatever hole she'd crawled into to hide. I realised I'd gone quiet for five minutes and said, “I dunno. I just have... something really special in mind for my first time, you know?”
“Gay.” Everyone laughed.

As far as boxing went that year, by November I was taking my first ring exam. A ring exam is a fitness test to make sure you're physically fit enough to spar with equipment. Lao failed me. I was pretty rotten on it at the time, I did all the drills he set and I did all the additional work outside of gym. What else did he want?! Ron explained it to me later, “I know it's pretty hard for you now, Anon, but it's hard when you get to my age as well.” He pulled out his wallet, and showed me a picture of his son Jayden, “He's about your age. Whenever you tell me about your problems, I don't hear your voice. I hear his. If you ask me, 'am I ready to box?' I'd just say 'Nope, give it another year, maybe two.' There's plenty of time for you to start sparring. You're not the karate kid. Don't rush life, and don't be too eager to get yerself punched in the face.” I was forced to accept it.

Some time after that, after class I spoke with Lao. “Yo Lao!”
“Anon!” that enormous easy smile greeted me.
I took an easy stance, and put my hand on my hip, sweat pouring off me, “Lao... I was thinking.”
“Goooood,” Lao smiled, “Good thing fo' boxah. Always thinking and slip slip baaaaan” he ducked and weaved as he talked. In Lao-speak, when he said 'slip' he'd dodge, and a 'baaaaan' was a heavy rib shot.
There was a way you had to talk to Lao, sort of, manly but respectful, you let him interrupt you, and only ever spoke in short statements, “Lao, I really like boxing.”
“Me too! Boxing bes' sport.”
“I want to box more.”
“Ahhhh” he shook his head and waved his hand, reminiscent of a merchant negotiating, “You no ready for ring.”
“I know I know,” I said quickly, “I want to box, outside of ring. On a bag.”
“Oh bag! Ohhhhh,” he narrowed his eyes and stroked his little three day old moustache, “Combo. One, two, hoot, uppah. One hundre' time, afternoon.” In Lao-speak, a 'hoot' was a hook, and 'uppah' was a rib shot uppercut. “Practice right, practice stron',” he pointed at me. This meant the conversation was over. As he was walking away to get back to cleaning the gym, he threw over his shoulder “Fight bag. Four roun', two minni' each, after your combo. An' you still run each morning. 10k. No slack off Sunday, you boxah now.”
“Thanks Lao!” I yelled, bowing. He grunted at me and I was off. That Christmas, to mum's eternal horror, Ron bought me a heavy bag and chained it up for me under the house. Every few weeks after that Lao would give me a new combo in Lao-speak when I bothered him. It was expected of me to practice each one I knew a hundred times each day until he said otherwise.

“I like you!” Dee said, her heart in her throat. It was the end of year ceremony. I think by the look on her face she immediately regretted saying it.
It occurred to me that it wasn't the first time a fifteen year old girl had said 'I like you' in more or less words at this end of year ceremony. It was a hot summer night, our families were in the main auditorium being bored to death. Here I was again, staring at a girl in the hallway holding her junior certificate and biting her lower lip, wishing she was dead.
“Let's ditch,” the words came out of my mouth, probably without me meaning them to. Maybe I wanted to stick it to the man. Maybe I was sick of the old principle's boring speeches about community. Maybe I just wanted to remember Nikki.

I reached out and grabbed her wrist, she threw her oval eyes around frantically, “What?!” her hair whipped around freely as she looked back at the auditorium full of people. She scolded me in a frantic whisper, “Are you crazy?! My mum will KILL me!”
I shrugged and smiled, I had to convince her, I just had to, “Not if she doesn't find out.”
She pulled her arm away, her brow furrowing while she touched her wrist with her other hand's fingers gingerly, “No...”
Maybe I couldn't do it after all, maybe I couldn't replace Nikki and her crazy exuberant presence, “Alright then, up to you.” I smiled, a little sadly, “I'm outta here, it's too hot.”
I put my hands in my pockets and began to walk away. I'm not sure what kind of actions Dee took just then, I imagine she chewed her tongue and fiddled with the junior certificate in her hand, looking forlorn at the audience and the principle's boring, barely audible speech. All I know for sure, is that before I made it to the back door, Dee had caught up to me, and she'd wrapped her slender arms gingerly around my elbow. When I looked down at her I met with her face and those endless brown eyes, looking at me with a mixture of fury and anxiety.

I already knew the way, and in the next minute I busted out the door where Smiddy was standing guard. “Anon Ymous,” he said slowly, “Ditching again huh?”
I laughed and said, “Hey Sir,” I felt Dee's stomach drop just like mine had when I saw Smiddy for the first time.
“And you Miss Lang.” He folded his arms and took a deep breath, “I expected better.” He gave us the Smiddy stare and cleared his throat, “And where do you think you're off to,” he growled.
Dee was dying next to me, at least, if I thought she was dying then, she was definitely going to die after I said this, “Oh, you know. Same as last year,” and winked.
He threw his head back and cackled, “That was the best laugh I'd had all year. Fucking in the bushes wasn't it?”
I laughed and Dee looked completely mortified. I could almost hear her asking herself what the actual fuck she was getting herself into. The laughter died down and I looked away, “Just give me a minute, Sir, it's too stuffy in there.”
Smiddy hrmm'd and considered it, “You taking advanced Math with me next year?”
I nodded. Dee was probably doing a thousand yard stare at this point.
Smiddy looked away, “Bring 'er back before her mother gets worried. I'll consider it a favour to an honours student.”
I looked at Dee and pulled her towards the bushes, she followed me, just wanting to get out of there. Smiddy yelled after me, “And don't do this ever again! Next time I'm draggin' your ass to detention for a year!” I waved and smiled in thanks.

“Anon! I'm not-” Dee was yelling at me while we ducked through the trees, and dodged through branches.
“Shut up,” I said quietly, “I've got something to show you.”
She screamed, ballistic, “You most certainly do not!!”
“Calm down, it's not that,” I scolded her.
“Stop!” She stopped her feet, and I spun around to face her.
I sighed and took a step towards her, putting a hand on your shoulder, “Just trust me, Dee.” I shook my head for emphasis, “I just want to show you this one thing. Then you can tell me to get fucked or whatever.”
She trembled, “If you rape me I'll scream.”
I snorted, “What?” I laughed at her, maybe a little bit too hard, “It's a place Dee. It's a place, we're going to a place.”
Dee sighed and looked away, she breathed a little heavy and swallowed, “Oh.”

We burst out of the bushes and into the carpark, and before long we were up the top of that hill again. Overlooking all the cars, under the light of a lonely little lamp post, I stood there again with a girl who liked me, holding her junior certificate. I threw my head back to breathe the night air. It was hot. It was a stinking hot summer night in Brisbane and I was here again looking at all those self similar family cars all parked in their neat little rows.

Dee looked around, looking down at all the rows, “Is this it?” I nodded, leaning against the post and looking down at the auditorium. She asked, “What's so special about this place?”
I guess it wasn't that special, just a lamp post and some cars, I thought about the question though, long and hard. Nikki was what was special about this place, but I couldn't tell Dee that, so I had to find something else. I pointed at the auditorium, “You see all those cars?” she nodded, following my finger with her eyes. “All those cars, all lined up.” I said slowly, thinking about what I wanted to say, “They're all lined up neatly, and contain people who are all lined up right now politely listening to the Goose.” The Goose was the student body's pet name for our principle. “And he's probably saying something about 'determination' and 'hard work'.”
“Stick-to-a-tive-ness is his favourite one,” Dee smirked and giggled softly.
“Yeah, is that even a word?” I looked at her and asked.
She shook her head, “I don't think so.”
I took a while to say this next part, I went silent while I thought about it, “This lamp post,” I looked up into the glaring light of the post, “I came here last year, with a friend.”
“Who was it?” she drew closer to me.
I shook my head, “It doesn't matter,” I dismissed it, “But this lamp post. What's it here for? What's it lighting?”
Dee looked around, behind us, in front of us, “This hill, the sidewalk.”
“But... why?” I looked down at her, something about her struck me as beautiful as she looked back, searching for a meaning in what I was saying. Hell, I was searching for a meaning myself. “It's a beautiful summer night but nobody's here! They're all in there listening to Goosey.”

Her eyes shook subtly, from left to right as she switched her focus between my own. She bit her lower lip and looked down. Reaching out, she took my hand in her palm, and placed her other hand over mine, so that it was sandwiched between her hands. Maybe she'd gotten a meaning out of my clueless rambling, I didn't know.

“You see?” we both looked at down where my hand was being held by hers, “Your skin, and my skin.” I looked and listened quietly. That subtle browning she had all over her skin. I looked at her face and deeply considered her Asian facial features. She spoke, “I have a rounder face, a smaller nose,” she spoke quietly, “Darker hair, slanted eyes.” She dropped my hand and turned away from me, “I look like every other Asian girl there is, but here, I look different.” She swallowed hard, and I stayed quiet, waiting for her to finish, “I get reminded of that all the time. At lunch I eat vegetables no-ones heard of. I eat the food that people can't pronounce using little sticks no-one else can use.”

She looked at me, deep in the eyes, “People think I'm good and I can do anything and that I get high marks just because I'm the Asian kid with the crazy Asian mother. It doesn't matter that I have an Australian accent or I've lived here all my life. Worse than that. I looked on the internet, and I looked at a men's magazine rack. I'm not just different. I'm a fetish!” She put on a mocking voice, “Come one, come all. Come try the mysterious eastern lady. Taste her exotic fruits and use your chopsticks on her tiny sakura blossom...” she paused and turned away, “It's sick. It's like no matter how pretty I am or how much I do I'll always be reduced to this stereotype. This fetish.” What was it about this hill that made girls talk about their issues, anyway?

I smiled and moved behind her quietly, putting my hands on her slender shoulders calmly. “You're saying I like it here because it's different.”
She pivoted her head back to look at me out of the corner of her eye, “Yeah!” she looked back down at the cars and auditorium, “You're not like them. You don't want to BE them. In there listening to Mr. ...” she cut herself off, stumbling over the nickname, “The Goose. You want to be out here, in the Summer air...” she turned around, a realisation dawning on her face, I could almost hear her heartbeat getting faster, “... with... me.”

“Dee,” I wasn't sure how to respond to what she was saying, but somehow she'd slid into my arms. My hands were gently placed on her waist, and her body was leaning slightly against mine.
She broke eye contact and shook her head, “What am I saying,” she dispelled the illusion herself, “You don't like me that way. I saw it in your eyes when I said that.”
“Hey,” I said, trying to console her, “Stop, it's not that bad,”
She wrenched her body away from mine, “You don't like Asian girls!” She balled her fists at her side, “You said it yourself, you only like red hair!” She was breathing heavily, upset, “Why do I have to miss out on my first boyfriend for such a stupid reason like that!!”
I didn't like her tone, I frowned at her and crossed my arms, “Hey! Where did you hear that from anyway? I never said anything like that to you.”
Her anger quickly turned to a sheepish expression as she looked down and pointed her index fingers together, “I kinda put them up to it. The boys. I wanted to know if you liked me or not before I told you, so I asked them to make you jealous and admit to it.”
I thought back and realised the event she was talking about and laughed, “Oh, that.”
She balled her fists again, “Don't laugh! It's embarassing!”

Dee and I stood there for a while, staring. I was watching her, and she was in her own head. She approached me and reached up to take my sleeve inbetween her thumb and index finger gently. I wrapped me arms around her shoulders to comfort her, and she heaved a big sigh. “Ever since I found out Asian girls were a fetish,” she said slowly, thinking about her words, “I sort of wanted, I thought, 'I want my first boyfriend to like me not because I'm an Asian girl'.” She looked to the side and sighed, “So I thought that was why you're so perfect for me. Because you don't like Asian girls, maybe... maybe you can see past that and just like me because I'm Dee.”
I patted her hair gently, still holding her quietly, “I do like you Dee,”
“Not like that though.” She went quiet, chewing on her tongue thoughtfully, “But... I still want you for my first boyfriend. So I thought... maybe...” she was struggling to get the thought out of her mouth, she looked up into my eyes with those deep brown ovals, “... Maybe I could date you, and use you to fulfill my fantasy of my boyfriend not caring that I'm Asian. And for you? Well... Maybe I could be practice. For when you meet your red-haired girl.”

What. The. FUCK.

I went deafeningly quiet. Emotions. Rage. It coursed through my system until I felt like I could explode. Dee didn't realise the landmine she'd stepped on with that line and just looked at me worried. I couldn't contain it, it was like I was choking on my fury. I needed to scream, the air was too hot. I pushed Dee away from me and gripped her small shoulders so hard it must have hurt a little. She looked too startled or afraid to ask what was going on. I leveled my eyes at her and spoke in a furious though quiet, measured voice. “You. Are. Not. Practice.” My eyes were wide and I was frowning as hard as I could, “Your name is Dee, and you are not practice. You're a wonderful,” I could feel myself choking on the emotion, “A wonderful, intelligent, beautiful, athletic girl and you are not practice.” I could stop myself from shaking, I closed my eyes to steady my breathing, but it just made the tears fall down my face, “You're worth... so much more,” my voice was cracking, “You're worth so much more than that.”
“Anon...” she whispered breathlessly.
I was looking into Nikki's eyes now, when I said, “I want you for my first girlfriend!” I yelled, “I really do! I want to show you how much you're really worth!!”
“Anon!” Dee gasped, and my heart dropped into my stomach when I realised what I'd just said.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, “Dee, I like you.” Shit, shit, shit, I'm making it worse! “Go out with me.”
“I will!” She sounded ecstatic and threw her arms around me tightly.
Don't panic, don't panic... just tell her... “Kiss me,” No!!

Her head tilted up, and we stared into each-other's eyes for a moment. She really was a beautiful girl. In a lot of ways she was actually the image of Japanese beauty, with light olive skin and dark hair that cascaded over her slender shoulders. Her body was taught and muscular, I could feel that with my hands while they were on her waist, but she had a softness to her expression that begged me to touch her. Her lips, sitting just under her little button nose, were slightly parted and moist from when she licked them in anticipation. She was so beautiful, and that's what I wanted to show her in that moment. She was worth so much, and meant so much to me as a friend. I kissed her.

Our eyes were closed, guilty images of Nikki flashed through my head. I am so ashamed to say this, but with my lips directly on my first official girlfriend's lips, a single thought actually did filter through my brain. 'Maybe I /can/ just use this... for practice.' And that was how I stole Deborah Lang's first kiss. With a lie.

I'm so fucked up.

>>20165
Good chapter, I literally can't wait for you to update this story. Like you I check a lot throughout the day to see if you post again.

This is good writing.

This is really well written. I can't help but for for Deborah though, she's really sweet and all Nikki's done is cause problems. On the other hand, I definitely understand the feeling that there's someone you should be with regardless of how life pushes you apart. Regardless, keep it up!

FA: Yeah I feel for her too, it's just how the story flows though.

Thanks everyone for the encouragement. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I normally have something against a chapter ending like this but this time it's really /really/ needed. It won't be left open for long though, I'll have Chapter 7 written in a couple of days.

THERE'S ACTUAL SEXUAL CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER! IF YOU'RE SCROLLING THROUGH LOOKING FOR SEX IN THIS STORY IT'S HERE

tags - (Asian Schoolgirl, threesome, fetishised virginity, dirty talk, masturbation, panties, tease)
~~~
Deborah Lang was a woman filled with contradictions. When I look back on it now, considering what I was like around the age of sixteen, it doesn't surprise me that we were going out. Dee was the kind of girl who'd read Dickens and Melville, but keep a copy of Twilight under her pillow as a guilty pleasure. In fact, when we were in university years later and Twilight did eventually come out, Dee urged me to read it excitedly saying it was the best thing she'd ever read. After I read a few lines from the middle I told her I wasn't surprised with a laugh, so she snatched the book off me and slapped me with it.

With everything I now know about her, having been friends for many years, it feels dishonest to attempt to describe Dee with only a few anecdotes or statements. Suffice it to say that the best way I can describe sixteen-year-old Dee was that she didn't make much sense to sixteen-year-old me. She liked to win, but she also liked the fact that she couldn't beat me when it came to Math and Physics. She'd talk constantly about 'just using people to get ahead' but every action she did demonstrated her deeply caring nature and strict moral code. She'd get a love letter in her locker and laugh at it cruelly with me, but then carefully draft a response, pointing out the poor boy's bad choices in grammar or spelling and sincerely wishing him luck next time.

One of the biggest mindfucks that I couldn't really work out was why she liked me. As I said, it's not really a surprise to me now, but back then I couldn't work it out. I seemed to act like the exact opposite of what she wanted, and she loved it. Whenever she fished for compliments I'd tease her, whenever she got mad at me I'd just kiss her to shut her up, whenever she told me about her Prince Charming fantasies I'd blow raspberries in her face and she'd laugh. Even though we were very close and we'd end up doing what we eventually did together, Dee and I never truly shared feelings of real romance. Competition? Sure. Companionship? Definitely. Sexual tension and curiosity? In spades. Dee was and still is a very important person to me. But that year when we dated, she had no fucking clue what she had just gotten herself into. As for me? Well, I would be treated to one of Dee's biggest contradictions of all.

In order for our relationship to make sense, I'll have to briefly describe our lives in general terms when we were sixteen. We had no time. We didn't even see each other over the Summer because her mother had taken her and her little brother back to Sendai for Christmas, so we next talked to each other when we were walking to school together on the first day from the bus stop. By this stage I'd decided that I was going to give dating Dee an honest try, and to stop holding a candle for my red-haired nymph.

“So I've organised our schedules on my way here,” Dee was beaming at me, we were walking to school. Typical Dee, doing extra work for credits.
“Oh?” was my only response.
“Yeah!” she exclaimed, shifting her tote bag, “We're both honours students, we've both got sports, you've got an instrument and I've got a crazy-ass mother. In addition to that I'm running for student council this year, so I'm gonna be super mega busy.”
“That's a lot to schedule for.” I said, I couldn't help smiling around her anymore.
“I know right?” She span on her heel and walked backwards in front of me, so that we could talk face to face, “How are we supposed to have a romantic highschool life if we're busy being responsible seniors?”
I grinned at her, “Wanna ditch?”
She leaned forward and grabbed my hand in both of hers, giggling furiously, “Yes.” she flicked her hair behind her ear, “But I'm better than that, and so are you.”
“Nerd.” Her mouth flew open when I said that but she turned around and walked in front of me, flicking that long hair again, “You're the one dating me,” was her response.

Dee's grand plan was to have the brunt of our relationship by sharing as many classes as possible and studying in the library at lunchtime together. I'd walk her to school every day from the bus stop which would be at the end of my run, and wait for her at Netball training in order to walk her to the bus stop on Thursdays. Saturdays were out of the question because she was studying under supervision. Every second Sunday we'd have a date at The Dome under the guise of 'spending time with our bratty little brothers'. When exam season was close we could spend more time at Dee's house, because that was the one time Dee's mother would happily want me around.

It wasn't long before our relationship was considered one of the staple romances of the schoolground. Unlike most highschool relationships, which more appropriately would belong in a screenplay for Days of Our Lives, Dee and I just seemed to be stable and work out. We'd been such friends the previous year, none of the group that I'd been around were surprised that we were going out this year. Dee's group of friends on the other hand were churning the rumour mill like crazy, unable to believe Dee had gone and gotten a boyfriend behind their backs. Obviously they'd been the last ones to be told Dee was interested in a boy. Our relationship probably remained in a sort of happy platonic stasis until April. Holding hands, pecks on the lips, talking with friends and laughing with everyone else.

We were in the library together, and Dee wasn't acting any different at the time. We'd settled in for the hour, and were halfway through physics. Dee glanced at me and then went back to looking down at her notebook. She'd been looking at me more often by then. I'd learned to ignore it, because looking back meant I'd have to kiss her and then share a little awkward silence where she didn't know what to do next. I saw her mouth move silently, and her eyes close as she built herself up for something, “Can I see your text?” she asked with a timid trepidation I wasn't used to.

I reached over to get it absently in response, but Dee touched my shoulder to get my attention and stop me, “I'll get it,” she said softly. Dee then took a big breath, and reached across my notebook slowly. Her hair brushed along the table, and the way she reached over me with her arm outsretched, a musky perfume made its way from her body and into my nose. The gesture was meant to look innocent but something about the way she'd paused, splayed out in front of me, told me she was trying for something else. In fact she had her hand on my distant textbook for a good fifteen seconds, her body stretched across the table, unmoving. She looked up at me expectantly. I looked back. It must have looked quite humorous, her staring up at me stretched out like she was diving for something and me staring back with my arms folded. “We've only got twenty minutes left...” I reminded her.
“Damnit.” I heard her say under her breath. She took the book and didn't talk to me for the rest of the hour. This sort of thing had been going on for three weeks now.

She wanted me to make a move on her. It wasn't hard to see that she wanted more than just a kiss or a cuddle. I'd somehow gone from a guy who heard the words 'Lesson one' and gotten angry and frustrated, to a guy who'd taken lesson one to the other extreme and was making his girlfriend wait until the end of time before doing anything sexual. The problem was, I didn't know how to react to Dee's awkward attempts at being sexy. It was like she was getting her moves from perfume ads or Cleo magazine. She really was like an immature schoolgirl, gifted with a body she didn't know how to use. That was probably it, for the first time in her life she didn't know what to do, and it was making her annoyed and desperate. I figured it was time to apply some shock and awe tactics to this relationship, like what happened to me when I was fourteen. Hell, it might be fun to watch a virgin squirm.

“Hey Dee,” I bit the end of my pen. It was the next day, we were at the library again.
“Hmm?” she asked, finishing her note and looking up at me.
“Have you ever masturbated?”
That made her lurch. Her eyes went wide and she shook gently, “W-w-what?”
I said the word slowly, savouring every syllable, “Mass-terr-bayy-ted.”
“A-as if I have time for something stupid like that!” she said quickly, trying to hurriedly go back to her notes.
“I masturbate,” I said slowly, I pretended to fiddle with an equation, but really I was just doodling, “I think about you when I do.”
She stopped again. 'C'mon Dee,' I was encouraging her in my mind, 'This is your cue.' She looked at me slowly, turning her head, then she darted her eyes around to make sure nobody else was in earshot. I could see her thinking. Her thoughts were written on her face as plain as if they were words. She didn't know whether I was making fun of her, whether she should be grossed out or scared, and she didn't want to believe I was being serious. A big part of her probably just wanted to scold me and get back to study, but it'd been months and this was the closest she'd gotten to talking about sex with her boyfriend. She was curious despite herself and wanted to know more.

I pressed her buttons, “Well, if you think we should get back to work...”
“No!” she said that louder than she meant to. She quieted down and put her hand on my forearm, whispering, “No, umm... t-tell me about it.”
I channeled her, that girl I met when I was fourteen. I channeled that sexual confidence, that 'I'd been there' attitude. I gave her the stare that said I knew what she wanted and that I could see every single one of her desires laid bare for me. I wondered vaguely what sort of story I should tell her, but when I thought about what the girl with red hair would tell this shy little thing, it suddenly became easy. I moved over to her ear and breathed warm air on it.

“I turn the fan on, so that no-one can hear me,” I whisper softly in her ear, the words flowed like melted butter, “I think about you, in your netball uniform.”
“My netball uniform?” she was surprised.
“Your netball uniform,” I closed my eyes, picturing it, “It's hot you know. The other girls don't really fill it out but you look great in it. With your ponytail, the little shorts that show off your butt, the way you lean down on your knees when you've just done a sprint. It's like you're waving it in the air for me.”
“I a-am pretty awesome,” she was trying to sound confident. Hiding the fact that she was embarrassed out of her mind.
“Do you know what I'm doing, when I watch you in your uniform?” I breathe again on her ear, licking the lobe softly.
She was blushing so hard her ear was going red, “What... what are you doing?”
“I'm comparing you to the other women,” I closed my eyes, picturing it, “I'm comparing your body to your friends'.” I paused for effect, “You win every time.”
Her voice was a whisper, “Of course I do...”
I fnished her sentence, “You're hot.”
“I'm hot,” she repeated, her eyes closed.
I poked my tongue out and cradled her ear gently, tracing the contour of it with the tip, “I know you Dee,”
She gasped softly, her chest rising and falling with the sensation, “Of course you do... you're my boyfriend.”
I mouthed the words slowly, “But I know your secret.”
She paused a little while, I could hear her wondering what the secret was, and whether she could take it or not, “What do you know about me?”
I smiled, the words pouring from my mouth like smooth honey, “On the court you might be everyone's little netball hero. But in my bed? When I'm touching my dick? You're my personal little netball slut.”
She pressed her thighs together and quickly pressed her palm against my face to get it and my dirty talk away from her ear. She pretended to push her hair behind the ear that I'd been licking, but she really just meant to rub it gently with her index finger. “I have no idea what you're talking about,” she said in her regular library voice, “You're my first boyfriend, I've never had anyone else.” And that was it for the first day of what we'd later call our lunchtime encounters.

Dirty talking in the library became our little habit before long. I'm not really sure what Dee thought of it, other than secretly enjoying it. I was sure she hadn't told a soul or ever talked about the kind of things I was telling her. Despite that, it wasn't long before she was actively looking forward to lunchtimes. She passed me a note one math class that said, 'What do X and Y have in common?'
'What?' I wrote back.
'They both want to hear what you have to say today...' I frowned at the note, a little confused, but when I took a closer look at Dee, she'd folded her ear forward. She would have looked like she was doing it absently to anyone watching, because she was taking notes with her other hand, and looking directly at the blackboard. With great care, I saw that she'd written the tiniest little 'x' on the back of her ear. Presumably the other one was called 'y'.

Thanks to a certain freckly redhead, and having been a child of the early internet, I was never in want for masturbation fuel. I shared sexual fantasies with Dee while she giggled and bit her fingernails, blushing. Even though the stories I told had their origins in my desires of Nikki, I was being honest in imagining Dee in all of the scenarios I described. She had an enviable body and a pretty face, it wasn't hard when I was alone in my bed to honestly mess up my sheets by imagining myself fucking her. I was careful with every one of the little scenes I described not to mention her race, or mention her particularly Asian features, and she told me a lot later that she'd appreciated it.

It was a Thursday in early June when Dee took the initiative next. Exams were just around the corner, and the day was particularly cold for Brisbane, 14 celsius, so I was in a jumper. Dee of course was in her netball uniform, training with the team. She played Center and was running herself ragged all over the court. They had regionals in a few weeks so the tension was high and the pressure to perform was on. The girls were all competing to get picked by the coach to be on the starter team and to keep out of substitute position, and this was Dee's big shot. After the first game, I could see she was thoroughly exhausted, and she sucked air through her lungs hard as she relaxed on the bench. The next game started so that the coach could compare two more girls for center position, and that was then Dee sent me a text.

Phones back then, if you remember, weren't very good. It was a feature just to have a camera of the absolute shittest quality, let alone being able to send an MMS. Dee had made sure to set up the MMS service on my phone a while ago. I guess she'd been planning to do this for quite some time. Loading on my phone, moving slowly over the magic airwaves of telecommunications, pixel-by-pixel, was an image of Dee's bra covered, sixteen-year-old breasts with the word 'Anon' on one and 'Ymous' on the other clearly written in black. Accompanying the image were the words 'Wish you were in the locker-room with me...'. This text was followed shortly by one saying 'SHOW THIS TO ANYONE AND YOU'RE DEAD BTW!!'

I laughed at the phone and looked up towards Dee. I think she was too embarrassed to look back at me because she just tugged at her shirt and threw back her water bottle, paying attention to the game. She ended up getting the position she wanted, as we both expected. While she shook the coach's hand the only thing I thought of were the words, 'Right now, that woman has my name written on her breasts,' and I laughed to myself.

I had Dee pinned to a tree. It was a little bit later in the day. Bark was getting in her hair, leaves were falling on us, her school uniform was getting all messed up and dirty, and she was tired from try-outs. The only thing on Dee's mind at that moment though was that she was making out with me, her boyfriend. I had the strength by that stage to hold her up off the ground against the tree, and I was doing that then, making her a little taller than me, and forcing me to tilt my head up to kiss her. Her tote bag was in the dirt, my backpack had slid off my shoulders, and we were surrendering to our passions.

She broke the kiss and rested her head against the tree, breathing deeply while I buried my nose above her breasts, kissing her collarbone through her shirt. “Nnh~ Anon...” she breathed softly, giggling and stroking my hair gently. “What about my bus...”
I looked up at her, “Catch the next one.”
She smiled a distant, satisfied smile. She closed her eyes, “My mother will kill me.”
“Fuck her,” we kissed again.

'There's more to debauchery than just the basic thrusting of anatomy.' Dee wrote this in a Creative English assignment later, her character was a high powered business-woman, 'Debauchery is an expression of the needs and basic human desires between two people. It's a taboo that we're expected to shun but one in which we secretly crave. The day I experienced my own debauchery will be a day I'll never forget. It was like standing, victorious over a pile of defeated and bloodied opponents. I'd fought hard and conquered every challenge life had thrown in my way, and now it was time to release the tension that had built up inside my body. The man I had chosen for this experience was not my husband but my stud, my lecherous little toyboy. He was obliging me both happily and eagerly. All I could think about other than his lips were all the people I'd crushed on my rise to get there. All I could think about was how wrong what I was doing was, and savouring every last sin I was committing.'

I wrapped my teeth around the soft flesh of Dee's neck, and suckled gently on the taste of her sweat mingling with her deodorant. She turned her head and sighed, holding my shoulder and pushing her hair out of the way. I grabbed the breast that had my name on it and she moaned audibly, thrusting her chest forward to meet my eager palm. I fondled it affectionately for a few moments, before I reached under her blouse and felt in directly. Her heart was pounding and her eyes flew wide, “Anon! We're underage!!” Her voice was panicking.
“When's your birthday? What month?” I asked, I already knew of course.
“August...” she looked down at where her hand was on her blouse, touching my hand that was touching the supple flesh of her breast.
“Are you saying I can't touch your breasts like this until August?” I smiled and looked at her eyes deeply.
“I...” she was caught, her mouth was open and she was looking up at me with confused feelings racing across her face. “No... you can touch them.” I moved my hand again and she started a mixture of panting and moaning as she moved her hand away, “They've got... nnh~... your name on them... hahn~... after all.”
“They belong to me,” I whispered softly in her ear.
“I belong to you...” she was breathless, and her hand fell between my legs to touch the raging stiffness that her fingers found.
She spoke again after a few moments of our bodies writhing together at second base, she shivered hard from my fondling after a few seconds and then looked at me guiltily, “I have to go... the last bus...”
I let her go reluctantly, and after we adjusted our uniforms and got all the tree junk out of our hair, we parted ways. Me with a hardon the size of a building, and her with... well... whatever girls feel when they have to walk with sopping underwear. She ended up giving them to me the next day, saying it was a good luck charm to get the first cream of a virgin.

“So I was thinking,” Dee looked at me through her massive, square sunglasses, before shifting them up on her forehead. It was one of our date days and we were at The Dome with Tommy and Jousuke. It was a quirk of Deborah's family that Jousuke had an English middle name and Japanese first name, while she was the other way around. Her Japanese name was Hitomi. It was school holidays at the time, so this must have been some point in July. She was wearing a warm blue dress if I remember, which was cynched at the waist by an intricate white belt with a gold buckle. She'd had her long, raven hair tied back with a prussian blue ribbon in an intricate bow.

“And what were you thinking, Dee?” I sucked my thickshake through the straw. We'd dumped our brothers at the arcade with twenty bucks each like normal and we were chatting at the foodcourt. I was always so glad they got along. But then I think my brother could get along with Hitler if he tried. Lovable brat.

“My birthday's coming up!” She grinned with her bright teeth and leaned forward to hold her chin up on the back of her hand.
“Oh? And what's the big deal about that?” I teased her, she'd been talking about it non-stop all holiday, but I would never have guessed what she was going to bring up this time.
“I'll be legal!” Her grin was wider than the cheshire cat's. It's legal between minors to have intercourse at sixteen in Australia. Seeing the look on my face, Dee thrust her body across the crappy little plastic table and kissed my nose, “You gonna jump my bones?”

I'd never heard Dee talk like this. It was normally me that initiated this kind of behaviour. I guess she wasn't as unwilling a participant as I'd originally thought. I did wonder vaguely how much embarrassment she was hiding from acting so shameless. I sipped my shake thoughtfully, “No, if we do that you'll still be committing a crime.”
I didn't really care about that of course, I was all too happy to lose my virginity to Nikki two years ago. Nevertheless Dee sat back with a thud and folded her arms, grumpy. “Well I still want you to come over the night before and sleep with me.”
I looked at her, vaguely amused, “And how do you propose to do that, Miss I-have-a-crazy-Asian-parent?”
Dee grinned, “I have a plan... and you're my birthday present, so you don't have a choice.”

The plan was daring as hell. Stage one was for her to con her mother out of $200 for 'academic achievements and birthday money' which she gave to me. My cover story was going to be that I was sleeping at Ty's place because there was a game on, and to pay him some money to cover for us. I'd get a taxi from Ty's to Dee's at 10pm, and wait until all the lights were out. Jump the fence, climb two stories using a rope made of knotted sheets and come in through the window. I'd wake up at 5am, escape from the house before anyone got up, take the taxi back to Ty's and be done. Whatever money was leftover I could use to buy her a proper birthday present later.

Sure, it's not 'The Great Escape', but for young Dee to think this up for her birthday when she's spent her entire life afraid of her mother's wrath... well... I was pretty damn impressed. I shouldn't have been surprised really. Dee was a smart girl who liked to do well at whatever she tried. With me offering a new extra-curricular subject of sexuality and erotica, it shouldn't have surprised me when I eventually found out she'd thrown herself at researching the subject at full force. Extra credits are extra credits after all.

I climbed through the window of Dee's room on the eve of her birthday at 11:30pm. The first thing I felt when I entered the pitch-black room was the feeling of a warm body pressed against mine. Her lips pressed against mine and I wrapped my hands around her body gently. The first thing I noticed was that she was only in her underwear. She pulled up the rope and shut the curtains so that the room was completely dark.

Her voice was completely hushed, “Hello present~” and her hand went directly to my growing dick, to rub it through my trackpants.
“Happy birthday,” I matched her tone, and closed my eyes. Not like they were useful anyway.
“Did you bring them?!” she was so eager I could swear she wanted to scream it.
“Yeah...” I pulled a small object out of my back pocket and gave it to her. It was her panties that she'd worn at her netball game, with her 'virgin's first cream' on it. I might have felt a little grossed out, but something about the wrongness of her taking off her underwear in front of me and replacing it with the unwashed panties she'd experienced her first orgasm in admittedly turned me on. Even if I couldn't see anything.

“Hah~ it feels good,” she said with a sigh when she was done. I slipped out of my shoes and she guided me over to her bed, which was a pants-free zone. We climbed onto the soft mattress and I immediately noticed that it was a double. Plenty of room.
The foreplay was immediate and exploratory. Dee guided her fingers over every crevice of my body, from touching my toes and licking my feet to suckling at my nipples. She told me in the hushed whisper that as her present, it was my job to lay there and be enjoyed by her so that she could have the first time she'd always dreamed of. “Penetrate me when the clock strikes, then have your way with me until you come,” was her wish, “No matter how much pain I'm in, I'll take it. We'll make a cocktail by mixing my virgin's blood, my first cream and the first seed that you've ever shot into a woman. Then these panties will become our treasure. The record of losing our virginities to eachother.”

I laid on my back while Dee serviced my body, excited me, got me ready. I was already eager and rock solid. Dee had peeled my clothes off me and I had been in my birthday suit for fifteen minutes now. Naked as the day I was born. Dee licked sensually at the bumps of by abdomen, and swirled her tongue around my bellybutton. She teased and preened and enjoyed me, kissing me everywhere except for the face. Her hands gently brushed against my musculature, and eventually they slid down, going straight for my testicles.

I exhaled sharply when Dee started wrapping her lips around the shaft of my dick. As I said, I shouldn't have been surprised that Dee had done her research on sex. She was still inexperienced though, and her mouth wasn't used to having such a large, hard object tracking it's way through. As I lay there in the dark, I started thinking about one of my favourite fantasies at the time. A threesome with Nikki and Dee. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, and if it made me perform better when the clock struck twelve then all the better.

I placed my hand on the back of Dee's head to encourage her while she suckled on the shaft of my cock, while I turned my head to accept phantom Nikki's kiss. Her tongue was warm, both of their tongues were warm. I decided that even if she couldn't be there physically, I wanted my red-haired nymph to be there in spirit, to guide my cock into its first pussy. Nikki would help me deflower Dee, at least in my mind.

Dee lifted her head from my shaft, and I heard a little click. The next thing I knew something warm and slippery was pumping me. The feeling was intense, and my back arched readily. I almost cried out from the sensation but my mind stopped me. This was Nikki's blowjob. Slippery, wet, all the way down. She deep-throated the shaft while Deborah watched and learned how a skilled blowjob looks. Dee will be able to blow me like this one day, to pump my cock with such a tight throat. I gripped the sheets hard, and felt myself approaching an edge so hard I didn't think I could hold it in. Dee stroked my balls and cupped them in her hand, the tickling sensation was overwhelming.

The next thing I fels was a pair of bare, lubricated breasts sliding up my abdomen. Dee's or Nikki's, it didn't matter. I imagined the pair of them kissing while Dee slid her gorgeous Asian body over me. The comparison between Nikki's Irish heritage and Dee's Japanese one strangely erotic. They played with eachother's hair in my mind, gently combing it with their fingers and licking eachother's faces. Dee's olive skin and stellar athletic body against Nikki's pale, freckly body. Their breasts pressed together around my cock.

I was edging hard. My dick was begging me for just that little bit of pleasure to push me over, that feeling that you feel when you hit the very back of a vagina. I wanted it, I needed it. Instincts were strong, I wanted to shoot my seed and I wanted to shoot it into the woman rubbing herself on me. Seducing me.

“It's almost time~” Dee sounded horny. She'd probably been fingering herself the entire time she was exploring the body of the man who would deflower her. “Get ready.”
I took Dee's slender body in the dark, holding her shoulders ever so gently, and I rolled her over so that she was on her back. Immediately I felt her body reposition, and her heels hooked themselves around my back. Missionary. She wanted to lose her virginity in missionary position, in the dark. Her arms held mine, and one wrested itself free from my grip. The next thing I felt was a hand, gently gripping the base of my cock, and angling it, aiming it. I imagined the hand was Nikki's.

“It's here, stud.” Nikki's sweet voice was in my ear, “It's the moment. Your virgin's here and...” I pressed my hips forward gently, and could feel Dee's juices coating my cock, she was wet like a fountain.
“Not yet!” Dee whispered frantically, I could hear her heartbeat it was going so hard.
“She's ready for you,” Nikki whispered, licking my earlobe. “You won't need me anymore, and I'm sorry it wasn't me but...” Nikki held me sweetly, “I'm happy. I'm happy for you, Anon. I always wanted you to be happy, and here you are. Losing your virginity like you should,” she paused for a second, “To a beautiful virgin.”
“I'm so nervous,” Dee said, she was breathing heavily, “Oh God I'm so nervous.”
“It's alright Dee,” I whispered to her, giving her a loving kiss, “I'll wait till you're ready.”
“No...” she said immediately, “I want it when the clock strikes. The second it's legal, I want you in me.”
“Five minutes then,” I kissed her cheek, and traced her over to her lips.
A minute of silence passed, “I...” she whispered, “I love you... Anon Ymous.”
I was expecting her to say it, and I'd already prepared my response, “I love you, Deborah Lang.”
“It's a spell...” she said, sounding like she was smiling.
My head tilted, even though she couldn't see the gesture, “What's a spell?”
“My underwear,” she gave me a cute peck on the cheek, “It's my spell, you have sex for the first time, at midnight, in the bed you grew up in. You wear the underwear you first masturbated in, and make love to the boy you masturbated to. You mix his seed, and your blood, on your sixteenth birthday. And if everything goes right, you'll be together forever.”
I couldn't help it, I started laughing. She laughed too. It was a silly superstition, made up by a silly girl. She'd probably fantasised it and just made it up as she went, adding spell components to suit her. Despite all that, I kissed her lips, and I felt Dee grip my cock tightly. I never told her the spell wouldn't work.

Now I know what you're thinking. You can't possibly fuck this up. Right? You're literally right up against a willing woman's hymen, in her room, at night. If you fuck this up you're a complete moron. Well if you're thinking that then you don't know a woman like Deborah Lang. The girl had a knack for saying something she wasn't meant to, or for poking her nose where it didn't belong. She always had it and she still does. I think if only she stopped talking in those last few minutes her spell might have worked. I'll never know.

She spoke quietly, “I wonder what Crystal would think of me...” I lurched, pausing.
She didn't... “C-Crystal?” how does she know Crystal?
She giggled, she was probably distracting herself from her nervousness, “Crystal's a hooker I made up. We're like sisters,”
“A... a hooker?”
“Yeah, you know, a prostitute,” she went a little quieter, “a whore.”
“Oh... oh God...” I think I was shaking, I wanted to hold it back. I was really trying. I was here. With Dee. I wanted to fuck Dee.
“I've always wondered what it would be like to be called a whore,” Dee was in her own little fantasy, “I think I'd feel naughty... it's so shameless... it's exciting.” She wriggled underneath me, her body moving and almost deflowering itself with the level of her arousal, “That's why I made up Crystal...” she trailed off, giving my shaking body a little kiss, “... would you ever... call me a whore, Anon?”

An involuntary recurrent memory. That's what they call a flashback these days. I was there, in the parking lot, on the cement. I could smell the fuel, taste the rust flavoured blood in my mouth from biting my tongue. Crystal. Crystal. What the fuck Crystal. Those words echoed in my head. I saw in slow motion, the head of a whore named Crystal, being slammed against the steel roof of a car. What, Slam! The, Slam! Fuck, Slam! Crystal, and then she was backhanded and her body fell like a sack of potatoes in front of me. I watched the whole scene again, watched her falling body collapse on the floor, lifeless.

Would you ever call me a whore, Anon? She's a whore, Anon. My father. That fat, bloated, disgusting lord of sin and violence. I started shaking, I could feel the rage I felt against him. The rage when he shook Crystal by her hair, watching her frail, supple, beautiful body being beaten and ridiculed. He made her say it. He made her say that to me. “I'M A WHORE!!” I saw the look on her face again. I saw every detail, every little freckle, every strand of dishevelled red hair. “I'M A WHORE!!” she said it again. I could hear her despair, I could feel her pain. I watched her mind, her very soul, I watched it shatter to a million pieces in front of me until she was just a soulless shell, wailing in front of me like a broken creature.

When I came back to the black room, I felt something in my hands. It was soft. Fragile. I was squeezing it. I'd felt it before but the memory didn't hit me right away. “Please~” a choked voice was begging me. Oh Jesus. I let go of Dee's throat. “What the fuck am I doing?” I came back and pivoted my head. I was in a pitch black room, I was straddling someone's small, tiny body. I heard Dee hacking and coughing, breathing heavily and violently.

“Oh God... what the fuck did I do?!” I said it louder and shook with the horror of the situation as the realisation of what was going on dawned on me. “Where the fuck am I?!” I was disoriented because everything was black. I pushed off Dee's body and fell off the bed. I thumped the floor, it was hard, wood. I was naked. I held my knees against my chest and just shook. Go away world. Let me go back. I don't want this world. Let me go back and save Nikki. I cried.

I always wondered what went through Dee's mother's mind when she opened that door. It was a few minutes after I'd started balling, trying to block out the world. She would have seen her sixteen-year-old daughter, naked, panicking and trying to console her sixteen-year-old boyfriend, who was also naked, on the floor and obviously having a mental breakdown on a night when he wasn't supposed to be over. I'm not sure what I would've done. Called his parents? Asked her what the fuck was going on?

She put a blanket over me in any case, and yelled at Jousuke to go back to bed. Dee put a dressing gown on. A few minutes later I was wearing the blanket, sitting in the dining room and nursing a hot cup of milo. Dee and her mother were arguing in Japanese. In one of the strangest results of an argument I've ever overheard, Dee's mother somehow became convinced that my breakdown was due to exam stress, and we were naked because I came over to study but forgot my pyjamas. The only real drama was that my shoes were under the window and had made the floor dirty. Asian parents. I was given the guest bedroom and I went to sleep. I got dressed and went home before anybody woke up.

Dee didn't come to school for the rest of that week, or the week after. I guess she had a lot to sort out, a lot to think about. I guess I did too. I ended up seeing the school guidance counsellor that I was having some trouble, but couldn't exactly describe what it was. We talked for a while and I drew some pictures of the concepts I was trying to get across. The blocks in my brain, the things I couldn't remember, the violent episodes. He concluded that something bad had probably happened to me and I was experiencing PTSD. He talked to my mother and we ended up scheduling me for some therapy.

It was Sunday at The Dome. According to Dee's schedule it was a date day. Tommy and I were waiting at Baskin Robbins, I was staring out into the crowd and Tommy was eating his super chocolate megadeath icecream. I didn't really expect Dee to show up. What would I say to her if I saw her anyway? Hi, how's the neck? I was peeved at myself. I thought about what she said about her magic spell and I got even more peeved. She was really looking forward to losing her virginity. She had every single little step planned for it. She wanted it more than life itself but then I fucked it up. No, Nikki fucked it up. Her fucking crazy-ass life.

I sighed, I couldn't blame Nikki, “C'mon Tommy,” I said to Tommy, moving away, “Looks like Jousuke's not coming.”
“Aww man, but he's so good at Tekken!” he sounded disappointed.
“Yeah I know, you can play me instead.” Nah I definitely couldn't blame Nikki, I knew who to blame. The blame was with my father. Fat bastard.

I sighed when I got whipped by my brother again. He was so good at this game. Little nerd played it all the damn time. I was about to put another coin into the machine to stop the game-over counter, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked over and it was Jousuke, “Oh, hey Jousuke!”
“Jousuke!!” Tommy yelled, “Kick the scrub off and let's play!!”
I stood up quickly, the little plastic game stool falling over, “You little shit!”
I heard a familiar laugh. I stopped mid-rant and turned around.

Dee was wearing her blue dress and white belt. She'd cut her hair. It was in a short bob now and held in place by a little white hairband. She waved me over and begged me to come follow, “Let's let them play, we need to talk.” Yeah, we did. We really did.

I didn't say a word until Dee and I were sitting across a table from eachother, nursing some McDonalds. I bought it for her, I figured, well. I mean it was the least I could do. “Dee,” I started, “I-”
“Stop.” Dee stared at me, her deep brown eyes on fire. I didn't speak further. She looked away, she obviously was having about as much trouble as I was with this experience. Dee flicked her bob hair absently, taking a deep breath, “I didn't know if I could see you again.”
“I was...” I trailed off when she whipped her head around and glared at me.
“Let me speak,” she said in a measured voice, her voice crackling with rage “You owe me that much.” She glared at me with more fury than I'd ever seen in her face before. I did owe her that much. I ruined her big night. I fucking choked her! If all I can do is stay quiet, that's what I'll do.

Dee looked down, and heaved her little shoulders. She was still beautiful. I remember thinking that. Even though she cut that long hair I loved so much, she was still beautiful. It accentuated her Japanese facial features somehow, her soft sloping eyes, that tiny nose. She spent a quiet moment with herself and then looked at me, deeply, “I'm not mad at you...” she started, “Or I am. I can't really decide.” She turned her body away from me, and fiddled with her thumbs in her lap, “I'm not as mad as I should be at you,” she said finally. Looking up, she said, “It wasn't your fault... was it?”
I didn't dare to speak, so I just shook my head, she saw.
She leaned against the table, facing me, her eye twitching, “Who was it...” it wasn't really a question at me, she was asking herself, “Who was it who choked me?” I opened my mouth slowly to try and respond but she held up her finger. She looked down with her eyes, breathing slowly, “It's the question I've been asking myself. Who ruined my night...” She paused, “I think it was me,” she looked up at me, I wasnted to say 'don't blame yourself' but she wouldn't let me talk. “I went somewhere, didn't I? Somewhere I wasn't supposed to,” she said quietly, “I poked something I wasn't meant to. And I got bitten.”

She looked at me in the eyes, those deep, staring brown eyes. They were flicking left and right as they changed focus between my left and my right eye. I almost shrank under the stare. “What did I poke, to make you choke me. What event did I bring back to you...” she trailed off again. It was like she was playing Poirot with me. “I tried to think of everything I could. Everything I knew about you. You're a boxer, why do you box? You're such a sweet and gentle guy. Boxing doesn't suit you! A sheltered academic who plays piano. Why do you want to hurt?” She flicked her head, “I'm a clever girl you know. I worked it out. It hit me on Wednesday like a bus.”
I looked at her, 'What hit you?' my face probably said to her.
“You're boxing to protect something.” She had a self-satisfied smile on her that only Dee could manage. “You're protecting a girl,” she tilted her head and looked away, “That bit's just a hunch, but it's normally either a girl or money.” She really was playing Poirot with me!

She leaned against the table, and considered her words very carefully, “I thought about how I felt about that. You're protecting a girl who's not me while you're my boyfriend.” She bit her fingernail absently, probably still thinking about it, “I decided I wasn't happy with that. But I also decided that I was right all along.”
I frowned, “What were you right about?” I slapped my hands over my mouth quickly, I hadn't meant to say it out loud.
She giggled at the gesture, and let the slip-up pass, “That you're a good person. Fundamentally speaking.” She paused a little to emphasise her words, “You are, a good man.” She looked to her left, and then down at her hands resting on the table, “I don't... I don't think it's wrong,” she said slowly, “to want to date a good man. Even if he messes up pretty bad.” She was choking up at this point, and when she blinked, a tear rode down her pretty cheek. She looked away from me I noticed that she was idly brushing her throat, “But I want him to love me. The good man. I want him to really love me and put me before anyone else in his mind.” Both of their eyes held tears, now, that she blinked out.

She calmed herself down by breathing slowly, going inside herself for a second and opened her eyes again. “I can't ask you to do that,” she said, shaking her head, “I can't ask you to just forget whatever you went through.”
'So she /is/ breaking up with me,' I thought to myself.
“But what I /can/ do is knock that bitch off her pedestal.” She was frowning, looking determined.
What?
She held my hands again, “Anon, I need to give you...” she searched for words, “I need to give you an experience, as equally and emotionally intense as the one you went through for the other girl.” She looked away, “I need to at least try... I don't want to just give up on you. I want to make it so I'm all you think about, so that you're addicted to my presence and you live just to be around me.”
I tilted my head, 'What are you going to do?' I wanted to ask her so bad.
“I came to my conclusions and I researched it for two days and two nights. I have to do something, give you something that only I can give you.” I was really waiting to hear this one. What did you come up with, Dee? “I'm going to give you yellow fever.”

Deborah Lang. The woman lives and breathes the word: Contradiction.

Author's note: Jousuke is Dee's little brother, I just realised I never stated it explicitly.

This is good reading, really want to know how everything is going to play out.

this chapter's really light hearted compared to previous chapters. I guess it's a nice break from the drama, but I'm not sure if I'll keep it in the final draft, so I'm calling it 6.5

This story is coming to a close, only about 2-3 chapters left to go. :)

tags - (Asian, food fetish)
~~~
I was on probation. That's how I like to put it these days. I had royally fucked up, I admitted that and I was sorry. Now it was time to pay my penance. Dee said that she absolutely didn't blame me, at least academically, for what happened on her birthday. That didn't mean I didn't blame myself of course, or that Dee could emotionally bring herself to trust me that much again. The Asian fetish thing I think was her way of saying 'Let's give this another shot, nobody's really in the wrong here, and we both need a little time to heal.' That girl was way ahead of the class when it came to love sometimes.

For the rest of the conversation in the food-court, she laid my choices out logically in front of me, and asked me what I wanted to do. First, I could break up with her. She swore wouldn't hate me if I did, and that we could still be friends. My reasons for doing so would probably be that I couldn't get over what I'd done and I hated myself too much. Second, I could apologise sincerely and make up for it. This meant subjecting myself entirely to her will, until she was ready to trust me again and take off the leash. Third, because there's always three options, was that I could apologise and not make up for it. That meant she would completely lose faith in me, hate me, and never talk to me again.

I thought about it for a good while. We just sat there quietly while I did. There was a legitimate way out after all, we could just go back to being friends again, like we were fifteen. Sure it'd be a little different, Dee would have short hair, but she'd still laugh with her friends, she'd still play netball and complain about studying. She'd have suitors immediately, boys trying to get the same opportunity that I'd thrown back in her face. She'd consider the ones she liked and probably end up turning them all down, laughing about it later. She could go back to being a normal, healthy, single high-school girl.

But option one didn't have an apology in it. I realised that when I thought about it and what that meant exactly, as I put the chocolate shake to my lips. To break up with Dee meant I could never apologise, according to her rules. Without an apology this event would never be spoken of again, and there'd be a rift between us that would drive us slowly apart. If I broke up and apologised however then I'd be in scenario three, where she'd hate me forever. If I wanted to show her how sorry I was, if I wanted to make up for it, I had to submit to Deborah Lang's rules. That woman was destined to be a lawyer, she really was.

“Option two.” I said after a while. I put my shake down, the end of the straw was bitten to pieces.
Dee's face was unmoving, she breathed slowly and folded her arms, “... go on, then.”
I moved the cold McDonald's garbage out of the way, and thought about what I wanted to say and exactly how I wanted to say it. I placed my palms on either side of the table, bowed my head and pressed it against the plastic. I tried, really tried, to look and sound like the very symbol of contrition. I'd apologised so many hundreds of times to her in my head, and now I had just this one chance to make this sound right. I said, “Deborah Lang. There is no possible way for me to tell you how I feel about what happened on your birthday. Please accept my deep and humble regrets, and know that in this moment, on this date and forever, I am truly and incredibly sorry. I beg for forgiveness.”

It was quiet for a moment after I said that. I kept my head on the table. I wasn't sure if I'd been too formal, and I couldn't gauge Dee's real reaction to what I said. It felt to me like it took hours, but it was probably only a minute until Dee responded by getting up from her chair. I felt a hand on the back of my head, “We'll see,” she said quietly. “I expected you to do this, you picked the hardest road.” I could hear she was smiling, “Just remember... mess this up and you're dead to me.” She walked off to pick up Jousuke and left me in the food-court to think about what I'd just done.

She didn't talk to me for the next week at school. I didn't really expect her to completely go back to normal anyway, she probably had plans to make. She was actually almost a completely different Dee to the one I knew beforehand. She went back to her old girlfriends from when she was fifteen, she didn't study with me in the library anymore, and I only ever had the briefest hints that we were still together, and that she was still my girlfriend. On Thursday I waited for her at netball like I was meant to, but when she was finished and changed back into her school uniform, she flicked her short, black hair and said, “I don't need you to escort me to the bus-stop today, but thanks for waiting,” and ran off.

It was frustrating. I remember feeling frustrated when I was boxing. I remember smashing the keys when I played piano. It was incredibly frustrating but this is what I'd done. I had relinquished my power of choice to her, and if I wanted her to forgive me then I had to really act like I was sorry. If she's being a bitch, smile and take it. I'd think about it, sigh, wonder how long this would last and then go back to my combo practice, or my piecework.

Dee texted me on Saturday about 9pm:
'~~Anon's Stairway to Yellow Fever~~
Stair 1: Delete all porno from computer;
Create folder called “My Girls” and HIDE IT;
Search “Asian girl tgp” or the like on Google;
Download pictures, at least a few Gb;
You may also include professional oriental actresses;
These pictures are now ALL you're allowed to masturbate to.
Don't text me back.'

Incredulous is probably the word that best describes how I felt about that text. It was very much like Dee to have a plan consisting of several steps laid out for me, but I didn't understand the purpose, I didn't understand the meaning behind it all. I could've asked Ron about it. I realised that several times over the last couple of weeks. I'd been using him as a crutch far too much though in dealing with my relationship problems. No. This was my problem, I'd chosen to ask for Dee's forgiveness, and she wanted me to develop an Asian fetish so she could trust me again.

So I downloaded some porn. 'Yellow Palace'. Charming name. I did everything Dee had set out in that text and excited myself while clicking through the Asian porno. I came to a picture that depicted two asian women kissing, deciding that was my favourite, and hid the folder in System32.

“I thought you didn't like being a fetish.” We were in class during some free time. I couldn't bear it anymore. I'd been jerking it to Asian pictures for the last two weeks now, and I needed to know what was going on inside Dee's head. We still hadn't spoken properly since the food-court.
Dee smiled at me, I thought she'd look more annoyed, “You're right. I don't.” She looked over at the blackboard and bit the end of her pen. “This is more about control,” she admitted frankly. I was actually a little surprised, “You don't know how scared I was, how helpless!” She turned to look at me, “My boyfriend just disappeared and suddenly I had a trained, seventy-five goddamned kilo boxer on me choking the life out of me!” She took a deep breath and suddenly I felt incredibly sheepish, “I never want to go through that again. I need to be in control, on a very fundamental level. I even want to be able to dictate who you masturbate for and when. Because when I give it back to you, control I mean, I want to be absolutely certain that there's nothing in there that'll hurt me again.”

In some crazy way, that did actually make a lot of sense to me, I nodded slowly and went back go back to reading my text. I felt Dee brush my arm to get my attention, she was smiling, reassuring me, “Hey,” she said, “This is so I can trust you. I want to trust you again.” She fiddled with her pen, considering her words, “Maybe you'll develop a thing for Asian girls and maybe you won't. I know I can't control a person to that level,” she said thoughtfully. “But this is more about, can I be completely helpless in front of you, and still feel safe.” She smiled at me, “This whole thing is just to distract me while I come to terms with what happened. So while I figure it out for myself, just do what I say and try to have fun, okay?”

Dee came over after The Dome that Sunday and went to the computer room. We closed the door because 'we wanted to block out Tommy's playstation noise' but Kait gave us a dubious stare. I wasn't really expecting her to, but Dee went straight for the porn. “I couldn't get gigabytes,” I said apologetically while she was clicking, “Only have a 56k modem, so I can only manage about fifteen or twenty pics a night.”
“That's okay, it's the effort that counts,” she said absently, clicking through the images.
“I like that one,” I pointed at the picture that had the two women kissing and playing with their hair as she clicked past it.
“That's not surprising,” was Dee's response.
After she had gone through all 325 images I'd gathered she threw her arms back behind her head and spun in the computer chair to face me. “They're all softcore!” she sounded like she was complaining.
“Yeah I don't like hardcore stuff,” I responded, biting my nail absently.
“Psh, man,” Dee twitched her mouth, “I thought you'd at least be into a bit of bondage. But they're all just smiling at the camera or masturbating.”
I showed her my palms and shook my head, “That's what I like to see...”
“Alright,” she smiled and moved over to kiss me sweetly, “Let's go play with Tee and Kay, before your sister dobs us in for making out without a permit.”

It was some time in October when I got this text:
'~~Anon's Stairway to Yellow Fever~~
Stair 2: Join a forum, dedicated to interracial fetishists;
Discuss your new fetish in real life;
Write me an interracial porno;
Porno must contain a harem of Asian girls of different nations;
Add hentai to your existing collection;
GET BETTER TASTE IN PORN!!
Ability unlocked: you can text your girlfriend again. :)'

I admit I laughed at this one. Maybe it was because she said she was my girlfriend again. I texted back 'Thanks, I'll get right on it.'

God those were some embarrassing conversations I had. “Yo Lao,”
“Anon!”
“What's so great about Thai girls anyway!”
“Thai girl? You think I be here if I like Thai girl?” he poked a finger at me, “You get smart an' stick to Australian.”
“They can't all be bad!”
“The best Thai girl are secretly boy. Stay away from Thai girl!”
“Alright Lao, alright. Don't kill me.”
“Nyaaah,” he waved me off.

The next people I spoke to were the sports boys I spent time with at school. “I think I'm developing an Asian fetish,”
“No shit, you've been going out with one for like a year,” Ty laughed.
“Well I can't work out what it is about them, you know?”
“Look Anon, it's like this,” Gareth piped up, he was the sagest of them all when it came to pornography, I was expecting something good, “Asian girls are just the natural progression of our society. Think about it. God gave black men the biggest cocks, white men average cocks, and Asian men the smallest cocks. People say it isn't true but everyone knows it,” sage nods all around. “Coincidentally, God's pretty smart, so he made black girls the loosest, white girls average... and what does that make Asian girls?”
Nobody answered for a second, eventually someone said 'the tightest', sage nods all around.
“Right,” Gareth continued, “Now, take for your consideration, girls like to get fucked. In particular, what they like is a cock that's only just slightly too big. It's the same how we like vaginas that are slightly too small. So white girls go for black guys and Asian girls go for white guys.”
Sage nodding, until a Chinese boy said, “Well what about me?”
“That's easy!” Gareth said, “See, God also gave you guys the hardest fucking language to learn, and made you the most numerous. But if you get sick of Asian girls, he made it so that you were better at science and math, so you'd have a better job. Having money is like the biggest fucking aphrodesiac of all, all of the colours want money, you could probably even find a blue chick if you wanted!” everyone laughed. So ended what was about the most racist diatribe on the interracial fetish I'd ever heard.

Ron was the last person I quizzed about it. “Asian girls?” He looked at me puzzled, nursing a beer like usual, “You should know more about them than me, Anon.”
I shrugged, “I guess she's the one who wants to know what you think about them.”
Ron nodded and moved his lips around to think. He took another drink of his beer before answering, “All women are the same. That's the truth. Turn the lights off an' they all make the same noise. Men like the Asians purely 'cause they look different in this country. Racial mixing's only really been around in the last forty, fifty years so people are still adjusting. According to genetics we'll all end up some sort of brown anyway. So having and being in an interracial relationship's nothin' to worry about. You're just hurrying up genetics.”

It was a fortnight later. A Sunday. Dee was spinning in the office chair of my computer room, reading my porno. “I don't understand this character's motivation,” she looked up at me, waving the sheets of A4.
“Which one?”
“The Korean,” she twitched her mouth and rested her cheek against her hand, “I mean, she's part of the harem, why doesn't she just man up and have sex with him?”
I'll admit to laughing. There's something a little odd about having your girlfriend reading a porno you wrote, “Maybe she feels embarrassed.”
“Pff,” she exhaled, throwing the sheets on the desk, “Well, you tried.” She smiled and hopped out of the chair, giving me a cuddle. “By the way, that forum you joined?”
“Asianlovers dot net?”
She grinned, “I'm nekogirl41.”
“Yeah, I knew.”
She looked crestfallen, “How!”
“You think I'd have cybersex with anyone else?”
“Psh, lame,” she went back to cuddling into my chest. “I thought I'd finally found a cheating fetish in you.” She was smiling pretty sweetly.

Dee was almost back to normal by this stage. Actually at this point in time she was acting a lot like the Dee I know now. She'd come a long way from being a shy virgin, and like me, she didn't seem to place such a huge importance on that V word anymore. Something about almost dying must do that to you I guess. In truth though, she'd kept me at arms length so long, it felt like we were playing at being a couple by this stage, rather than exciting each other. Somehow our lives had come full circle, and I felt like we were fifteen again, cracking jokes and making each other laugh, studying together and playing together like kids. It's not strange to just be friends with an attractive girl I realised. To be with someone who is objectively incredible in every way, but who you can't bring to feel those intense romantic notions anymore. That was how I felt.

I took my ring exam that November, Lao begrudgingly passed me and I was over the moon. I could finally box properly and learn to fight. That was how I felt. For the end of school-year ceremony I didn't duck out for once. In fact I had to give a concert. I played two songs for it, a romance from Mozart and the Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven first movement. The romance was more difficult, but as usual the famous piece drew more applause. As long as you have enough control in your little finger, there's nothing in the first movement to really worry about in Moonlight. It is a rather sweet song though, so I understand why people like it.

Dee kissed me after I was finished playing, and handed me a piece of paper. “This is it, Anon,” she said quietly. I turned the paper over, it was a certificate she'd printed at Officeworks. It had a green wreath traced all the way around it, with bold red lettering. 'This Certificate Hereby Certifies' and then 'Anon Ymous' in gold letters. Followed by 'As a True Appreciator of Asian Women.' It was signed by Dee. She was giggling with a pretty big grin on her face.

“I'm not sure how to feel about this...” I said slowly.
“It's your graduation!” she said coyly, turning from side to side.
“So I'm forgiven?” I asked, folding the certificate.
Dee shook her head, “There's one more thing we have to do. Then I swear you'll be forgiven.”

Later that night, I got the final text:
'~~Anon's Stairway to Yellow Fever~~
Final stair: Have dinner with your Japanese girlfriend at a traditional restaurant;
RULES FOR THE RESTAURANT!!
1: Shoes off, it's disrespectful
2: No talking, silence is golden
3: NO HANDS!!
4: Take chopsticks to start eating, put them back when done
5: Fill out customer satisfaction survey'

Well this didn't seem so bad. Dee later sent me instructions detailing a time and place. Mum was to drop me off at her place at 7pm on Saturday. It was a week before she, her mother and Jousuke were due to catch a plane to Sendai.

I came up to Dee's house and rapped my knuckles on the hard wood. After a few seconds of silence I tried again. The sound echoed. I frowned and looked from left to right in the stairwell. Just then, a small note caught my eye. It was sticky-taped to a brick, 'Please enter'. I took the note and turned it over in my hand, kicking my shoes off and trying the handle. It gave way.

The house was dark, except for a distant light down the hall. “Hello?” I called out to the darkness. My voice called back in echo. I realised I'd said the wrong thing almost immediately, “Uhh, I mean... Tadaima? Moshi mosh?” I had a terrible Australian accent whenever I tried to speak Japanese. Jousuke kept poking fun at it. In my socks, I decided to creep down the hallway towards the light. I heard the floorboards creaking under my footfalls, and realised I'd been walking on my toes. When I walked past the dresser that had the picture of Dee's father, I clapped my hands together and bowed towards it. She always reminded me to say hello to the dead whenever I entered the house.

'Dee's Traditional Restaurant'. It was a sign sticky-taped to the wall of the hallway. I looked into the kitchen, the counter was there just like normal. Moving into the room, everything suddenly became self-evident.

Laying on the dining room table, blindfolded and completely unmoving, with her hands underneath the small of her back, was Dee. Her body was exposed and open, she was entirely and completely defenseless; as naked as the day she was born. It was the first time I'd ever actually seen her naked, I realised. I felt like I'd known every part of her at this stage, but seeing her bare body before me was a milestone I only achieved just then.

As I moved closer silently, it became obvious what she wanted of me. I looked over her body. She was certainly athletic, I could tell by the look of her musculature. Her breasts looked smaller than I'd imagined from seeing her in uniform, it was because she was lying on her back. She'd made a joke a long time ago that of course she had D cups, being Dee and all. Her physique was just at the cusp of the point where her abdominal muscles would be showing. Her arms were shapely, and her thighs were thick and powerful, and ended in an ass that was round with her strong muscles. It was obvious how she ran so fast when I saw her naked. She'd actually trimmed her pubic hair for the occasion, and had made a cute little landing strip that ended at her vagina, which, ironic considering what she told me at junior graduation, was covered only by a well placed rose petal.

Laid across Dee's naked body were several small rolls of sushi. There were seven total. They were placed like little soldiers standing on her skin, between her breasts, tracing a line down her body. On her stomach was a little saucer with soy sauce on it, for dipping presumably. The other rolls of sushi were placed closer and closer to her pubic mound, which held dessert. Dessert was a little pink mocchi, placed just above her pubic hair. In between Dee's teeth were a pair of red chopsticks. She was waiting for me to take them.

I pulled my phone out to look at the text again just to confirm, cleared my throat loudly, and sat down. I understood immediately the implications of what was happening and I didn't want to disturb the girl in front of me. I particularly didn't want to betray her trust, as I reached for the chopsticks, and took them gently.
“Okairi nasai,” she said immediately, softly, and nervously, “Goshuushou-sama,” she whispered.
It meant something to the effect of 'Welcome home, Master'. I didn't speak, and gently rubbed the chopsticks together.
“Watashi wa, Rangu Hitomi,” she introduced herself, “Douzo yoroshiku onegai shimasu.”
'Please look after me' I knew that one.
“Douzo,” she spoke slowly but clearly, “Douzo goyukkuri, otanosimi kudasai.”
I didn't know what the hell that meant at the time, but I later found out she was entreating me, 'Please, enjoy what you see.'

I clapped my hands together, and took the first roll. She flinched when I approached her with the chopsticks. I realised how nervous she must have been. She was lying there, naked in front of the guy who'd choked her. She was also blind. The situation was a lot different, but it was still her heart on the line. She was still falling back, and waiting for me to catch her. She had to trust me, she absolutely had to. If she didn't trust me now, then she never would.

I finished the first roll and went for the second. My chop-sticking still wasn't all that good and I fumbled it. It rolled off her body and fell onto the table. I tried again but failed and it fell on my lap. Well, what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, I picked it up and popped it in my mouth with my fingers. While I was eating the roll, I looked down at my girlfriend. Was this really the Asian fetish? A woman who comes from a little island and lives on another little island?

What was so special about her that made her into a fetish? I dipped the salmon roll into the soy-sauce while I thought about it. Was it because she had slanted eyes that looked a bit different from mine? Was it because she spoke a language I couldn't understand? I chewed on the roll, and looked at her face. Her eyes were covered by the blindfold. Her short black hair was splayed out over the table, I wanted to stroke it with my fingers. It wasn't because of the colour though, I realised, it wasn't anything special or uniquely “Asian” about her hair that made me want to touch it. It was because this woman, laid bare before me, was my friend. I cared about her. I didn't want her to be scared of me. That was why I was here.

But man, she really had to have some of this sushi! I remembered that the text had said “enjoy the restaurant WITH your girlfriend” so I thought that might extend to enjoying the food with her. I picked up the fourth roll, and slowly brought it up over her body, and placed it just over her lips. I couldn't speak of course, so I just had to hope she understood the gesture. Using my chopsticks, I lowered the roll until it brushed her lips.

I think it shocked her. She flinched so hard that she almost spilled the soy sauce. I pressed it against her lips again, but by a subtle movement of her neck, I could see her shake her head slightly. Too bad, her loss. I popped the roll in my mouth. I think it was eating that fourth roll that I decided that I really admired Dee. I'd technically gone out of bounds by doing something not covered in the rules. I guessed it was something she hadn't expected of me, and that I probably wasn't taking this moment as seriously as I should've been. Her words at school came back to me, 'This is about trust. I want to trust you again. Even when I'm helpless.'

While I ate the last two rolls, (and spilled a little sauce on her by mistake), I thought about... well... everything. Dee's Japanese-ness did nothing to excite me, I decided. If she was a beautiful white girl with curly blond hair and blue eyes I'd be just as attracted to her. If Nikki was lying there I'd be just as happy to look at her. I couldn't fetishize her. I loved Dee because she was strong, smart and beautiful. I loved her because she could make me laugh and she was good to be around. She was an important friend to me, an important person. I wanted her to trust me again.

Friend. I'd thought the word just in passing, but somehow it stuck in my mind. Dee was just my friend. I loved her, but only as a friend. She was important to me, but as a friend. Well if she cooks sushi like this, at least I don't have to worry about her finding a husband. I'll admit I very seriously contemplated keeping up the charade just for that reason. I reached over to the pink mocchi on her pubic bone, and I almost laughed when Dee's mouth flew open. The problem was, I liked mocchi too. I held the mocchi in front of me and very seriously contemplated just eating it. I looked back down at the cute Japanese girl with her mouth open. Half of the mocchi. That was what she got.

I replaced the chopsticks in her teeth and rose from the chair, and Dee's hand slipped from under her back. A piece of paper and a pencil. 'We hope you enjoyed our traditional sexy restaurant. Please tick the appropriate box and fill out our customer satisfaction survey!' The boxes were, 'I love your sexy asian girls!! So much better than redheads!' and 'The food was super delicious, I'll definitely come back with my friends!'

I read the note a few times, and turned it over in my hand. She was asking if I still wanted to go out with her. A very Dee thing to do, I figured. I ticked a box and left quietly.

And that was how I dumped Deborah Lang... or perhaps more accurately, how she dumped me.

>>20188
Hopefully I live up to your expectations! I'm really keen to write the ending, it's one of the things driving me so hard.

Good writing as always. With the way this chapter ended I'm not sure what is coming next.

The climax! So close! I'm almost at the bit I've been wanting to write these entire two weeks!!

To my refreshing fan: your dedication means more to me than you know, I don't know how you manage to comment in under 6 hours after posting.

No tags needed for this chapter, maybe girl comparison and hair?
~~~
Seventeen. God I can NOT tell you how much I was looking forward to that year. Four words: Final. Year. Of. School. Well, I probably wasn't looking forward to it that much when I was lying flat on my back in the boxing ring, but that's neither here nor there. Boxing is hard. It's harder than any equation or five-minute-long piano trill that I've ever had to do. Every time my training partner flattened me I learned something though, that's what I kept telling myself at least.

A guy told me much later that Lao looked like he lost exactly six years off his life the first time he watched me in a proper spar. Technique out the window, fighting like a brawler, forgetting everything he taught. I was without a doubt the most untalented, worthless fighter that Lao had ever seen, and I got my clock cleaned. I train for two good years and I'm still shit at sports. Ahh well, can't be good at everything.

The rest of my life didn't look as bleak as my boxing career thankfully. My grades had slipped a little, as did Dee's. We were both still on the fast track to university though. When I realised the relatively low requirement for entrance to science at UQ I almost laughed and said, “Hey mum, I'm just gonna study at the beach every day this year 'kay?” That wasn't really me though. Ron told me I should look into studying at the conservatorium instead, and get a musical career. I laughed and told him I was hardly the next Elton John and he smacked my head for not believing in myself. As an aside, my sister also moved out that year, so I didn't have to put up with Mariah Carey anymore.

I was hanging out at the arcade one particularly stinking hot day of March. It was a Sunday because Dee and Jousuke were there. This would be a day that I was going to remember for the rest of my life. The date Sundays had lost their subtext, and now we really were just hanging out with our little brothers. Tommy and I were playing Point Blank together, but I was too busy trying to catch Dee's eye while she was playing air hockey with Jousuke.
“Look, if you wanna make out with your girlfriend you can, but you gotta get serious about this!” Tommy was scolding me.
I laughed, “Sorry sorry, I'm shooting.”
“You're wasting bullets, how are we meant to smash the high score if you can't even shoot straight!”
I patted him on the head, a gesture he was appreciating a lot less now that he was fourteen. God, I remembered fourteen. “I reckon you'd be better off with Jousuke as blue player.”
“Duh, get your head in the game.”
“Is Tommy bullying you again, Anon?” Dee asked from the table with a grin.
“Yeah,” I responded, going back to the game.

Our game was still going when Dee's was finished. We were pretty high up in the castle. The next stage was a shoot off. Falling leaf, one bullet. The stakes were high because Tommy and I were down to one heart left and he was a better shot than me. The curtain opened and the electronic leaf started falling. “GYAH!” Blam! Tommy missed with a yell. I looked over and started laughing, Dee was nibbling on Tommy's earlobe. I was laughing so hard the leaf just fell off the screen and we both lost our lives.

“Deeeeee~~” Tommy extended her name and frowned at her.
Dee giggled, “You just looked so cute when you were concentrating, I couldn't resist.”
“Whatever,” Tommy sounded mad, “You're gross, go play tongues with my brother or something.”
“Duuuude!” Jousuke was talking, “What the hell!”
“Language!” Dee used her voice like a whip crack. Man, I'll never get used to Jousuke getting a language warning for the word 'hell', no wonder Dee never swore unless she looked like she was stealing an apple.
I stopped laughing long enough to put a hand on my brother's shoulder, “Tommy, there comes a time, in every man's life...”
“Piss off!” Ahh, if only he was well behaved like Jousuke. Oh well, nothing a good arm twist wouldn't fix. Before I could though, Tommy's look changed, and he looked over at Dee, “I'm sorry, you're not gross.” Little shit, can't even punish him anymore. I scruffed his hair instead.

“Is Tommy seeing anyone?” Dee asked me, we were leaning against the doorway to the arcade.
I was sucking down one of those new bubble tea things. Of course they've popped up like weeds now, but back then they were novel, “The hell should I know.”
Dee stole my straw and drank some pearls, when she saw my expression she flashed a sly grin, “Language, Anon.” She said it a lot sweeter to me.
“Pardon,” I replied, “How, the hell should I know. Please.”
Dee laughed into the back of her hand and shook her head to stop, “I was just thinking. He's like a younger, cuter version of you. Maybe I should trade up.”
A mysterious feeling swept over me, “Have you said that before?”
Dee shrugged, “Not that I know of.”
“Deja vu...”

We stayed quiet for a little while, Dee stealing sips of my tea, a couple of girls walked past. Dee looked over at them, “Do they look cute to you?”
I shrugged, “They're okay.”
She looked at me seriously, “You can date them, if you want. I won't mind.”
“Yes you will.” I looked at her, I knew when Dee was lying to herself, “You'll turn green.”
She giggled, “I'll be an alien!” she stopped herself from laughing, “Seriously though, we should start acting like we're broken up. School's back in and all.” I kept quiet to let her continue, I'd gotten used to being able to tell when she was in mid-rant. “I mean, I think Sarah thinks you're cute, and I'm sure someone like Jesse would suit-”
“Waaaiit,” I interrupted her, and took a deep breath, “Where's this coming from?”
She looked quiet, something she didn't want to say, some topic she didn't want to broach, “The formal.”
“Ahh,” I nodded slowly. Dee was already thinking about the formal dance because she'd been put on the organisational committee. “Well let's just go together.”
Dee whipped her head around to me, “Yeah?”
I shrugged, “We made a pact, right? No dating until uni, and no-one from school.”
Dee grinned, “And then I get to lose it in a drunken fling to some footballer on my first night at college.”
“And I lose it to a creepy goth chick,” I finished the pact. Dee laughed. It was our mutual promise to regret our first time forever, so that we could just hurry up and knock boots. Something weird like that anyway.

We finished the tea and I tossed it out, Dee was still leaning against the wall to the arcade, “What's taking them so long!?” I frowned and asked her. She shrugged. Jousuke was really good at Tekken, and could normally sit on the machine for a couple of hours without paying, the street-rule was that the challenger had to pay. “You wanna pull them off?” I asked her.
She shrugged in response and flicked her bob, “I'll go,” and entered the arcade.
Dee was taking a while. Must have been a good fight. After five minutes I decided to enter the arcade myself. All I saw around the Tekken machine were a bunch of backs, everyone standing in a big circle, what the hell was going on? Just then I heard a noise that would stop me in my tracks.
“THE FUCK YOU MEAN YOU WON'T PAY ME BACK!!!” Angry screaming. Familiar angry screaming. I stood there, shaking, trying to remember where I'd heard that screaming. “That little cunt cost me twenty fucking bucks!!”
“Don't you call my brother that!!” a female response came, Dee. Oh no... I started pushing people out of the way, but by the time I was in a position to see what was going on, it was too late. Dee had slapped a bald man. Of course his response was to drop her with a backhand, Jousuke started screaming.

I saw a familiar sight. A woman. Backhanded. Her beautiful body becoming a slave to gravity as she falls, falls and hits the ground. Lifeless. I think I screamed at that point. I'm pretty sure I remember hearing my voice screaming at least. A lot of people think the word 'ballistic' means something like 'crazy' or 'wild', but the actual definition of the term is used to describe a projectile on a straight and determined path. Think about the term 'ballistic missile' or a forensic 'ballistics team' whose job it is to trace bullet angles. No better word describes my state of mind in these few seconds of blanked out rage better than the word 'ballistic'. No word describes my flying into the circle of people and making my fist connect to Baldy's temple better than the word 'ballistic'. There's also no better word to describe my state of mind when I was straddling his chest and punching his bald face over and over again. Someone pulled me off him shortly, but he wasn't done yet, he got up, rubbing his jaw. He was looking pretty ballistic himself.

I'm bad at boxing. There are two reasons, the first is that my punches aren't heavy. Heaviness in a punch is a certain element, an amount of force that you're able to exert with just your fist. Everyone's born with a certain amount of innate heaviness in the punch, and we call this quality a boxer's 'natural talent'. If you don't have a heavy punch you can still win at boxing however, by outsmarting your opponent. This brings us to the other reason I'm bad at boxing: I'm angry. Whenever I'm in a fight I just throw all my strategy out the window and rely on pure rage and fitness to win. That means, to a boxer, I'm just a little tantrum throwing three year old who can't punch hard. Thankfully, anger is a lot more effective in a street-fight.

The fight didn't last long, nor was it very interesting. I'd already tagged Baldy with a sucker punch and wailed on his stupid face a few times. He still came at me like a raging river though. It was like he was moving in slow motion to me, the adrenaline pumping my eyes full of blood, his angry telegraphing punches moved like they were in freeze frame. Before long I'd gotten him with a Lao-classic combo. Slip, slip, baaaaan! My bare fist was in his ribs. While he was stunned I threw a left hook and he was down again. His bald head smacked the floor, and he didn't bother getting up a second time.

Of course, Dee didn't know how bad I was at boxing, she threw her arms around me excitedly, laughing and crying in relief. Police arrived on the scene in fifteen or twenty minutes and decided not to press charges against me. I was pretty grateful. As for Baldy? Possession and assault. That was actually the last I ever saw of the guy, who knows what happened to him after that. Dee says I exaggerate Baldy more and more every time I retell this story, “Eventually he'll be an eight foot tall robot that spits lasers.” But you know what? Fuck you Dee, it's my story. I beat up a bastard that my fists had been aching for for two years, and I was happy.

Yeah, seventeen was a good year.

I never really took boxing as seriously after that. I felt safe again, in control. Lao told me my tension was gone whenever we did focus-pad work. I never really gave it up though, like Ron said it's a hell of a workout. But I did tone it back to focus on my studies. Speaking of studying, I was relaxing on the beach during the winter holidays. If you're ever thinking of going to the Gold Coast, make sure you have a good look around for a decent beach. They're harder to find these days but they do still exist.

The beach I was on was almost deserted, except for me, Tommy and Kait. For those of you that haven't seen it, I'll need to describe a good Australian beach. See, the one thing Queensland is good for is it's beaches, golden sand jumping into your sandals, lapping waves that kiss the shore. Turquoise water underneath a crystal blue sky. The horizon stretches forever, and if you can find a nice beach to yourself then it's all yours. The only white clouds in the sky putter along on their business like little castles made of icecream.

It was cold, but I was sunbathing. Tommy and Kait had gotten sick of playing in the water, and went to join mum and Tommy's father at the fish and chips store. I was alone. I propped myself up on my elbows, and flicked up my sunglasses so they rested on my head. The next thing I knew I felt a rush of wind against my ear. I whipped around in surprise, holding my ear to check who was blowing on it but then-

Lips. A kiss. An intense kiss. A girl with pale skin and red hair with her eyes closed, face pressed against mine. The sound of lapping waves in my ears. A warm wave of nostalgia flowing over me as memories of sight, sound and smell assaulted my senses. Nikki! I pushed her off, startled, “What the fuck!” I panted heavily.
Nikki giggled, her green eyes sparkling, “Hey stud!”
“Nikki, what the fuck!” I touched her shoulder and looked her over, not believing she was real.
She tilted her head, her long, wavy red hair falling to her waist now, “That's what I should be asking Anon!” she pushed me down and straddled my waist in her bikini, “Where the fuck did this body come from!! Are you sure that's you?”
I was on my back, Nikki was in her bikini straddling my chest, my arms were in the air and my jaw was on the ground. I looked her up and down, trying to take in her figure, but I was too shocked, “Where the fuck have you been! What happened to-”
She leaned forward, pushing her hair behind her shoulder and pressed her face against mine, “Shut,” kiss, “up,” kiss.

Well what do you say to that? I hadn't even been in her presence for five seconds and she was making out with me. She didn't want to talk about the past, or what we'd been through together. She wanted to feel my body, to press her warmth against me again and touch my skin. I wanted the same thing. I closed my eyes and just accepted it like she did. For now, at least in this moment, I could kiss Nikki again. I wrapped my arms around her body, and gently guided my fingers along her pale, lightly freckled back. She was heavier than Dee, she obviously hadn't been training for netball for the last eight years of her life, so she was softer. To call her fat would be a gross injustice though, at eighteen-years-old, Nikki sported a body that would win her more enemies than Caesar and Napoleon put together.

The softness was inviting, I decided in the end. It wasn't better than touching Dee's more sculpted, shapely body, but it was far from worse. My hands explored her back while she tickled my chest gently, playing with the fine hairs that had started growing there. She'd alternate between touching the stubble on my chin and gripping my hair while I moved to brush my fingers against all of the things I'd missed. The small of her back, I pressed my palms against it and she squirmed, reaching a skilled hand down to cup the crotch of my trousers invitingly. The shameless, lewd action was so daring and bold, it turned me on.

She broke the kiss and panted, her hair falling on my cheek. She squeezed the growing package gently and laughed at me, maybe she laughed in disbelief because she couldn't believe she was on top of me, maybe she was just happy. She laughed anyway, she laughed and I never asked why. I laughed as well. I was happy to see her, happy to touch her, happy to smell her again. We alternated between kissing, arousing each other and laughing for as long as we wanted, however long we dared. There was nobody here. Nobody at the beach at all but us. Two people in the sand, expressing a joy they'd both forgotten, being together.

“Nikki... what the hell..?” I said quietly after a while. She was still lying on my chest.
“You first,” she circled my chest with her index finger, looking at it idly, “I already know what happened to me.”
I smirked, slapping her back gently with my palm, “That's not fair.”
She slapped the beach towel and looked at me deeply with those emerald green eyes, “Alright then, question for question!”
“What are you doing here.” I said it as seriosuly as I could.
Nikki wouldn't let me be serious though, immediately she hugged me and said, “I'm enjoying the beach! My turn, how many girls have you fucked?” She wriggled her bottom impishly.
I laughed and repeated my question, “Nikki, what the fuck are you doing here?”
Nikki looked offended and pulled at my nipple, it stung, “That's not fair! Play the game, I'll answer your questions. Now you have to answer mine, how many girls have you fucked?”
I laughed and slapped her wrist to make her stop pulling at me, I put my head back to relax. Clearly I had to think harder about my questions. “None.” I said in the end.
“Really?!”
“Yeah.” I gave her that one for free, but I realised too late.
She straddled my chest again and shook me by the shoulders, my head thumped against the soft beachtowel over and over again, “What the hell are you doing!? Are you crazy?” She was one to talk... “This is your one and only chance at being a minor!! Fucking a sixteen-year-old will be illegal for you in under a year! You should be dicking cheerleaders and fingering nerds!”
What could I do? I just laughed, “Hey, my turn, my turn!” She stopped shaking me and laid over me again. I thought about the question, “How did you come to get here?”
Her eyes flicked away then looked back at me, “The bus.” She grinned, “Have you done ANYTHING interesting in the last two years?”
I frowned at her, pressing down on her butt. I probably didn't /need/ to press on her butt, but she had a cute butt so I did anyway, “Nikki, don't evade the question. You've gotta give me /something/ better.”

Nikki giggled and combed her hair with her fingers, looking away, “Oh alright. I know what you're really asking.” She removed herself from my person and sat next to me, I sat up to be on an even level with her. “I've been in Sydney.” She said finally. She couldn't stop smiling when she was looking at me, “Brisbane wasn't my scene anymore, so I decided to move with some friends.” She looked out over the ocean, and it was reflected in her eye. “My life settled down after I moved, and I had to spend a couple of years finding myself.” She let go of her hair and whipped her head to look at me, “And here I am!” She giggled, “I ended up going from place to place, I've been all over the country you know!”
“Even Adelaide?”
She snorted, “Nah, who wants to go to Adelaide!”
I tilted my head back and looked up at the sky, letting the sun's rays hit me, “So what are you doing HERE, at the Goldcoast?”
She shrugged and hugged her knees to her chest, “Gambling. Drinking. Working. Fucking. You name it. Just decided to move here after I got sick of Sydney. You big-city boys can't understand a country girl like me. Besides, the sin-capital of Australia sounds like 'just another fun place' to me!” There was subtext to what she was saying, I knew enough now to see that. I wasn't sure how to press it though.
There was just one thing I wanted to know, “Are you okay?”

Those eyes flashed and suddenly her expression fell into a sweet smiling. She closed her eyes slowly and looked out over the ocean again, “Nothing can hurt Nikki, Anon.” She whispered quietly, pulling her knees to her chest, “Nikki's always okay. Nikki is... invincible.” She smiled wistfully and spoke with quiet admiration while the waves rolled in, and her hair moved with the wind. The moment was only there for a second, but as quickly as it had come, it was gone, she took both my hands and leaned forward, grinning, “Now tell me more about you!!”

I smiled, unable to help myself, and started telling her about Dee. “Is she hot? What'd she look like?”
I clicked open my flip phone and summoned a picture of Dee playing netball, back when she had long hair. Nikki's mouth flew open, “Oh my God! I know her!” She snatched the phone off me, “That's the girl who used to hang out near you at lunchtime!!”
“What?” I frowned.
Dee giggled and pushed the phone back into my chest, “Yeah, the little Asian girl from math who used to keep looking at you. You were too busy talking to me to notice.”
I was a little stunned by the story, but I went back to the phone, “Yeah, well, she cut her hair...” I clicked over to the next picture, which was us at the arcade.
“Aww, you broke up...” she sounded sad. Damn, Nikki was on the money. I must've been looking at her strangely because Nikki giggled and looked at me, “When a girl's really upset with a guy, she cuts all of the guy out of her hair.”
“Huh.” That didn't make a lick of sense, but she was right anyway. Takes a crazy lady to understand a crazy thing like that I guess.
Nikki shook her head, looking closer at the phone, “She's really pretty!” She frowned at me, leaning forward and staring into my eyes, “So you mean to tell me you guys never did anything!”
I shrank a little under the stare, and looked away, “Well... we ate sushi together.”
She pushed me over onto my back, “So boring!!” She giggled and jumped on me, landing with an 'oof'. “Think about it Anon, you could've been her first white experience.” She put on a racist faux-Japanese accent, “Oh, me sooo ho-ny. Don' hurt me wit' yo' big Austrayan penis.”
I smacked her butt, “Stop that!” I laughed a bit despite myself.
She giggled and bit my nose, “What are you going to do to stop me?”

She straddled my stomach, sitting up and threw her arms out, “Meeee! Sooooo!” she started again, shouting as loud as she could. “Hoooo-!” I tickled her. We wrestled and she laughed hysterically, saying the word 'horny' over and over again while she kicked and screamed in joy. We ended up with her underneath me, my body pinning hers and her staring longingly into my eyes. We were both panting from the exertion. “I'm horny,” she whispered, biting her lower lip and closing her eyes. She smiled in a way I didn't see very often, an expression of simple, abject joy, “I missed you so much.”

When I stroked her face sweetly, tears started rolling out of her clenched eyes. Tears of happiness, serenity, tears to express just how much she was enjoying this single moment, etched in time forever. Maybe being crazy just meant that Nikki felt emotions more strongly than other people. Or maybe she just experienced them differently to you or me. Maybe that was why she had to go wild and seek the thrills of sex and violence, because she wanted to feel an escape from all the stuff that goes on in her head. Maybe I should stop thinking she's crazy, stop being that little bit afraid or sorry for her and just see her as a girl who's happy to see me. An old friend... no. My first love. Nicole Fisher.

We ended up kissing after her trembling body had settled down. I wasn't sure why. It felt more romantic than erotic, and we just enjoyed the moment of silent solace together. She broke the kiss and looked at me, “Wanna fuck?” It was different to how Nikki would normally say it, maybe a little sweeter or huskier than normal.

My mouth twitched into a smile, and I shook my head slowly, “I'm here with my family.”
She looked really disappointed, and lifted her arms to stroke my shoulders gently, looking down my figure, “You really turned into a good guy, Anon.”
For some reason, I remembered my promise to her when she was fifteen, balling into my chest and asking me not to love her. I thought about it fleetingly, but it still felt like the right time to say it, “You should be my girlfriend. Then we can fuck whenever you like.”
Her eyes flickered up to me and she smiled. Was she going to say yes? Was she going to get mad at me? I didn't care, I needed to ask her that for me “I don't have that kind of life, Anon,” she said quietly. “You know that.”
Yeah, I did. I wanted to disagree, tell her what was possible, but there was no way she'd believe me. I was already on a roll with breaking promises, so I broke another one, “This doesn't mean you won't take my virginity, right?”
She twitched and smiled, looking happier by the second, like I'd just said magic words, “You still want me to?!”
I laughed, “You're my practice partner!”
She threw her arms around my neck, “I'd love to!” She flumped back on the beach-towel and looked at me as seriously as I'd ever seen her, “Time and place. I'll be there.”
I barely even had to think it over, “The Formal, Regis, 7:30pm. November 13th.” I knew all the details off by heart because the girl I promised to take was on the organising committee.

Sorry, Dee.

This is a god-tier story, holy shit

>>20199
great read, kinda sad it's gonna end soon. but i can't wait to read the end cause i know it'll be worth it!

>>20199
Oh, and thanks for the shout out. I post so quickly cause I'm always looking out for your updates!

This here's a two parter. *Author disappears forever*

This is it boys, the climax.
~~~
“What do you mean you're sorry!!” Dee was fuming. We were at the food-court on a Sunday, I'd finally worked up the courage to tell her. I just looked at the table, I couldn't meet her eyes just then, “Anon! What on Earth am I meant to do?!” She folded her arms under her bust crossly and kept scolding, “It's not like I have time to find a date now. Thanks a lot!”
“Like I said Dee, I'm sorry,” I looked at her and spread my hands out to apologise. It's not like she was being entirely truthful, there were plenty of guys who'd want to take her.
She just scowled at me and drank her thickshake, “Next you're going to tell me you're taking someone else.”
Oh boy, here it comes. I must have looked incredibly guilty, not like Dee didn't already have a sharp enough mind to work it out. I didn't need to say anything.
“No way!” She was going off now, “Who is it?!”
I heaved a sigh, she was yelling at me like she yelled at Jousuke whenever he did something wrong. I started mumbling, “It's a member of the public.” Best just to give her the basic truth at this point, it only turns out worse if you lie.
She slammed her palms on the table and threw her chair back as she shot up, “Hell no!!” She crossed her arms, “No! No! Absolutely not! The public tickets are SOLD OUT.”
I looked up at her, pleading, “But you're on the organising committee!”
“So you dump me, replace me and THEN you ask me for a favour?!” I'd only seen her this mad a few times before. I mean, I'm a boxer and she's just a little half-Japanese netballer, but I'd really rather have been in the ring than this conversation. She shook with anger, then she grabbed my thickshake, my chips, her half eaten burger, the McDonald's bag and threw them at me one by one. After that she stamped her foot and stormed off with her drink, steaming like a kettle.

She gave me the ticket I needed a couple of weeks later, “You'd better be grateful.” She still hadn't forgiven me, but I was so happy I hugged her anyway and said she was a miracle worker. She told me later that her reasoning behind coming around eventually was that me treating her like shit almost always came with a very good reason, and that she wanted to hear it after the formal. That was a conversation I was simply /not/ looking forward to. But for me, the world didn't exist after the formal, so it was okay.

The formal couldn't have come quickly enough for me. Renting suits, practicing the waltz in the quad, my grandmother crying and saying how grown-up I looked, the limo with the boys, shaking Smiddy's hand as I walked in. The formal was going to be a good night. As I ate dinner, listened to the speeches and gave the applause for the various social awards people were getting there was only one thing missing. That one thing should've been sitting in the seat next to me, but she was nowhere to be seen.

I excused myself from the table eventually. Ironically it happened to be at the same time The Goose was talking about dependability, reliability and any other -ility he could think of that sounded good. Another boring speech of our beloved principle that I was walking out on. It was 8:30pm, and I was still holding her ticket. Maybe she was outside, maybe she'd gotten lost. My stomach was hopping. It had all been a big gamble, I realised that when I originally invited her, but I still really didn't want to lose her again.

I opened the door, wiping my mouth. “Can't you ever stay inside?” Smiddy was looking at me.
I smiled at him and felt a little guilty for giving him so much trouble over the years, “Sorry, Mr. Smith.”
He gave me a half smile and turned his head to face forward with his body, “It's alright, I think he's a boring speaker too.”
I sniggered and put my hands in my pocket. Mr. Smith was standing next to me in his own formal suit with his hands folded on his lap, ramrod straight. In comparison I was slouching, hands in pockets and looking distracted. It was a little bit strange talking to Mr. Smith now, he wasn't as scary when you were the same height as him. The whole 'scary math teacher' and 'Smiddy stare' bit was just to keep the juniors in line, he never used it in senior. Somehow, something about it felt less like a student and teacher standing next to each other, and just two men who knew one another.

I took out my phone to look at the time and sighed, shoving it back in my pocket, anxiety was knotting in my stomach. I had a sinking feeling. “Date not coming?” Smiddy asked. He was a perceptive guy, that Mr. Smith.
“Yeah,” I responded.
“Anyone I know?” Mr. Smith squinted.
I looked at him, it hit me like a train. Of course he'd know her! “Nicole!” I said quickly, “Nicole Fisher, have you seen her?”
His eyes flew open, “Little Nikki Fisher?!” He bellowed a laugh, remembering her, “There was a fire-cracker! You still seeing her?!” He frowned after that, “I thought you were with Deborah Lang.”
“Woah,” I threw up my hands, “How much do teachers know about their students' personal lives anyway?”
“Pfffft!” Mr. Smith chuckled, “What do you think we do in the staff room all day,” it wasn't a question. “We put up with you brats at work all day every day, you think we don't have eyes? One of life's big rewards is watching you lot grow up and get with each other.” He chuckled with his own little joke, “Each grade is like it's own little soap opera.”
“Huh...” I grunted, and shuffled my feet, shifting my weight.
“Tell me the story,” Mr. Smith looked at me, folding his arms. “You're not the kind of guy who two-times.” I smiled at the compliment, and told him what was going on in general terms. After hearing it, he nodded and said, “Well, from the sounds of it The Goose's speech is wrapping up, that means the waltz is coming up. Want some advice?” he asked. I almost missed the part where a teacher called his boss The Goose. I'd remember it later though.
“Sure, sir.”
He looked away from me while he said, “Don't miss the waltz over Nicole Fisher. She'll either get here or she won't. I'll look out for her and show her in when she gets here. Give the dance to Dee if she'll still have you, it's not like Nikki knows the steps anyway. ”
Hearing relationship advice from a guy like Mr. Smith took me aback, but I nodded and thanked him, and just as I was about to go back inside, he turned his head to say, “Oh, and Anon?”
I turned, “Yeah?”
“Make sure you beg.” I laughed, but he was probably right.

It was just after the deputy principle had invited the seniors to treat the teachers and guests to the traditional waltz of the school. Deborah Lang was mad at me again, “I am NOT your fall-back girl.” Dee wasn't wearing much make-up. It was one of the things I noticed about her. She'd gotten a little pimple on her cheekbone which she was hiding with foundation, but that was about it. Her eyeshadow was a dark shade of navy, which complemented her traditional dress. She'd decided to put her hair in a complicated bun as much as possible with it being shoulder length , and the hairdresser had fixed it in place with hair sticks that ended in small wooden spheres. Her kimono was covered in large white flowers, I already knew it was her mother's, and wrapped around the formal kimono was her grandmother's yellow obi. Right now unfortunately she looked pissed, but if she smiled she'd look completely stunning.

I took a long breath, “You're right, you're not.”
Her hands flew onto her hips, and disappeared into her long sleeves, “You have NO RIGHT to ask me to dance with you. Just because your date's not here.”
I nodded, getting chastised, “You're right, I don't. But she wouldn't have known the steps.”
Her hand was flying around in an angry gesture, “You think I care about you and your problems?! I busted my little TUSH to get her here and she doesn't even have the decency to show up!”
I nodded again, directing my gaze downwards, “You're right, I'm very grateful for what you did.”
Hands back on hips, still yelling, “You'd better be grateful! You think I care if you don't have a dance partner now? Well stuff you Mister I'm-too-good-for-Dee! I have half a mind to give you a good slap for how you made me feel.”
I kept nodding. Man, how do married guys put up with this? “You would have every right to slap me Dee.”
Dee pulled her fan out and gestured with it, waving, “Well what do you have to say for yourself!? Don't just keep repeating what I say!! Man up you little ingrate!”
Everyone was almost in position by this stage, they'd all gotten their partners. I breathed in and looked her in the eyes while she hid her mouth with her fan, scowling at me. “Dee. I am a worthless person. I don't deserve it, but I'm begging you. Please, would you do me the honour of this dance?”

I like to think she was hiding a smile under that fan when I said that, but I'll never know. She closed the fan after a couple of seconds and had her lips pursed. She grabbed my wrist and dragged me onto the dance floor with me trailing behind. She probably was smiling at this stage, she wouldn't let me see her face. When we were on the floor, we took our position, and she put my hands in place, one holding hers, and the other around her waist. Her expression was sour... but a lot softer.

The waltz started. The music for the waltz wasn't famous, it just had a strong 3 / 4 beat and an unimaginative melody over it. Easy to dance to for high-school kids who'd just learned how to waltz, in that it served its purpose. I led Dee mechanically at first, she was being uncooperative and messing up the steps because she was still mad at me, but I didn't say anything about it. About halfway through the song, after the first spin I actually saw a hint that she was enjoying herself. It was a twitch in her mouth, I could only see it because I was so close, but it made me smile. The thing about my smile, was that Dee liked it. Whenever I smiled, she'd have to smile as if on instinct. By the end of the song, we were both smiling at eachother.

After the waltz the audience applauded, and the band launched into a West Coast swing number. Dee and I didn't know how to swing, so we just made some stuff up using the waltz steps. Her smile got bigger every time we made up a move, and it wasn't long before she was laughing again. Dancing is sort of like that. If you give yourself to it you just forget what you were thinking about and enjoy it. It's some sort of primal thing about moving your body to a rhythm or a melody that lets you just enjoy a moment, to just be with a person you like and enjoy their company.

I'm sure she felt the same, because I saw more and more of Dee come back as we danced. She'd never say it with words of course. 'I forgive you' would be unthinkable for her to say after what I'd done. I knew though, as I danced with her, I knew that everything between us would smooth over, that she didn't really hate me. She could say it just with the way she danced with me, the same way I could say 'I'm sorry'.

“I'm enjoying my night,” she said quietly. It was a slow song and we were more just rocking backwards and forwards, pretending to do steps. Her cheek was against my chest.
“Yeah, me too...” I petted the back of her neck gently, I didn't want to touch the complicated bun.
We stayed quiet for a little, I felt her look up at me for a second and look back, “I'm... sorry your date didn't come...”
I shrugged, “It's okay,” I said quietly, “It was a long shot anyway.”
“Who was it?” it sounded like she was biting a fingernail, “Who was so important to you?”
I shook my head, “It doesn't matter.”

We walked back to the tables with sore feet when the band was packing up. About half of the student body were still on the dance-floor, the other half were taking photos or horsing about. Dee and I were holding hands on the way back. That's when the lights dimmed for the DJ to introduce himself and start playing some pop. Dee sat down, kicking off her shoes. “My feet are killing me,” Dee said, pained, “Punch?”
“It's probably spiked,” I grinned and chuckled.
“Good, I could use the alcohol.” I laughed at Dee rubbing her ankle and moved off.

I was at the punchbowl, pouring Dee's cup when my world went black. I smiled instinctively when I heard the words, “Guess whoooooo!”
“Nikki, what the fuck!” I said, turning around with Dee's drink in my hand. “You're late!” I scolded her while Nikki threw her head back, drinking Dee's drink.
She grinned, “Had to blow Smiddy to get in.” I hoped she was joking. Now Nikki, there was a stunner. She looked amazing to me without makeup, so when she hid what little imperfections were on her face she looked almost angelic. It might be me remembering this through rose-coloured glasses, but I remember thinking a single, all-encompassing phrase to describe how she looked when I saw her. Celtic fertility goddess. Her hair was curled, and fell in locks and bangs, wild and free. Some of the bangs fell against her shoulder, while the rest swelled like a great wave or a rolling countryside down her back. Her face had it's usual softness, with freckles that covered her nose, and powdered cheeks that gave her pale skin only the slightest hint of a blush. Maybe it was a natural blush, a natural redness of her cheeks that I just hadn't seen before that made her look so... so... ravishing. There was no eyeshadow because those splendid green orbs didn't need an accent. There was no lipstick because her lips already matched her dress. Nikki looked like a woman, a woman wild and free. Tonight she wasn't a painted whore, tonight she was a debutante, looking for a bachelor.

“Mm, good vodka!” She giggled, handing the empty cup back to me, “C'mon, let's dance!” she held my wrist and tugged at me gently, “I wanna go feel up a seventeen-year-old's junk for kicks!” Well... at least her looks were more mature now.
She was tugging me desperately over to the dance-floor, I had to get back to Dee to give her her drink. I was being pulled between them in a way that I really didn't want to be, but I didn't have a choice really. My heart decided for me. In one of the most selfish and reckless things I think I've ever done, I danced with Nikki while Dee waited for me to return.

Knowing what I know now, I have a different opinion as to what was going on on that dance floor. At the time I mostly felt guilty, I was fully aware of dancing with Nikki to thumping, rhythmic music while Dee was waiting for me. Now that I think back on it though, I'm almost certain Nikki knew it as well. She wanted to prove something to me on that dance-floor, I'm not sure exactly what it was, but she had something she needed to tell me, and dancing was the only way she knew how.

The direct comparison between dancing with Dee and Nikki was self-evident. Where Dee was refined, Nikki was wild. Where Dee hid her sexuality underneath the layers of her traditional clothing, and inviting only a select few to help her unwrap them, Nikki chose to display it freely. I can't pinpoint the actual move she used that was particularly erotic or that excited me the most, it was a case of the sum being greater than the parts. It was the way she grabbed her own hair and threw her head with the rhythm to make you imagine being rough with her. It was in the way she shook her hips to say 'hold me before I fall'.

She'd trace the contours of that lewd body with her fingers while she danced and said 'this could be you touching me'. Her message was in the way her head fell back and she exposed her throat, her most sensitive, vulnerable part to say 'I'm yours'. Instead of asking you to unveil her sexuality, Nikki would violently unveil yours, she'd rip your clothing off with her eyes and fuck you with a kiss. That girl knew how to dance. She drank the attention of the men that gave it to her, and thanked them with smiles and winks. But the whole time that she made them want her, the whole time she spent grinding her ass against them and teasing them, her face told me that tonight she was mine.

The real fun started when Nikki had worn herself out, and we were headed back to the seats. I was laughing at something stupid and naughty that Nikki said if I remember, and then completely stopped in my tracks when I looked where I was going. I was in trouble. I knew it the very millisecond I saw Dee in front of me, fists balled at her side and her face hidden. I'm not sure if she knew what to say, she had so many things to be mad about she probably couldn't order them. A broken promise, a boy that didn't come back, dancing with another woman, on the night of the formal that she organised the formal that she bled for. So many little insults she couldn't even count them.

It's funny, but Ron's words struck me at that point, one day you'll love a woman and they'll mean the world to you, and then you'll hurt them. You won't mean to, it's not a point of malice or about whether or not you're a good person. You just will. Like gravity. You'll make a mistake and it'll be so monumental and catastrophic that there'll be nothing you can do to fix it. That's what I'd done to Deborah Lang in that moment. I'd betrayed her by loving a red-haired girl.

Dee didn't say anything. Just stood there, not even looking at me. She was shaking with rage and deafeningly quiet. There wasn't much to say really, the music was thumping but it seemed far away. People were having fun and moving but we were still. It was like a perfect moment that encapsulated my utter betrayal. I'd come into her life, stolen her first kiss with a lie, strangled her the night she was meant to lose her virginity, and danced with a different girl on her formal debut as a woman. There was no coming back, the event horizon was a hundred, thousand, million miles ago. None of us did anything, not even Nikki, we just watched her shake, felt her rage ooze from her as an expression of her utter pain.

It was a hissing sound at first, it grew louder and louder and came from the girl shaking in front of me. Her head lifted slowly and I saw exactly what I expected to see. Hatred. Not anger. I'd never seen it expressed so clearly as when I saw it on a betrayed woman's face. It was a hatred so deep and so pure that it froze me. She didn't want to yell anymore. She no longer felt satisfied by simply being angry. She, in that moment, felt complete and total hate for everything that had happened to her. Her memories were probably flashing with every single time I told her in a roundabout way that I liked red-haired girls and how I only saw her as a friend. She saw the feelings I expressed to the girl standing next to me and she hated me for it. She hated me because I kissed her, she hated me because she'd pressed her bare body next to mine and I rejected her. She hated me because no matter what I did to wrong her she forgave me. Most of all, she hated me because I'd told her to her face that I loved her and she'd believed me. If Krakatoa was a woman... it's name would be Deborah Lang.

“FUCK-HEAD!” She screamed it, the absolute top of her lungs and as hard as she could. After her feelings were captured in that single word she broke and cried. Before I could even reel from what she said she was running away. The worst night of her young life. Nikki just touched my arm quietly and watched. After a small reverie, Nikki reached up on her toes to kiss my cheek and drew my attention, “I'll fix her,” she said quietly. I looked down at her, a lump caught in my throat. She squeezed my arm gently, “I just wanted her to feel a little of my pain before I did, see what kind of woman she was underneath.”

Nikki was gone before I could say anything, she'd gone in the same direction as Dee, and I was left just standing there; holding the proverbial testicles that Dee had wanted to rip right off me.

Now of course I don't know what happened next exactly because I wasn't there. The only two participants in this conversation were Nicole and Deborah. So what follows is fiction. It's based on what I've researched about Nicole Fisher over the years and on what little Dee's told me about it. Part of it's just made up to link events in a way that I think is logical, based on what I know about Nikki and Dee. As far as the truth goes, nobody but them will ever really know, but I'll present here my best guess.

I believe Dee ran to the girl's bathroom to cry. She didn't want anybody to see her, so she'd be in a cubicle. Nicole would follow soon after, entering the swinging door and listening to the sound of Dee's wailing. I can't imagine what either of them were thinking. Nikki's mind was always a mystery, Dee probably just wanted to disappear.

Nicole approaches Dee's stall gingerly, and leans against it to listen to her. I think about her eyes here, how they'd just stare at the door sadly, listening to the woman she destroyed. Eventually she'd knock, gently tap her knuckles against the wood.
“Go away!!”
She'd pause for a bit, listening again and sigh. It was time to talk, now or never. “Dee? Sweety? Come out.”
“Fuck off!” her voice snapped back, “Leave me the fuck...” swallowing hard, “Leave me the fuck alone!!”
I assume Nikki wasn't used to dealing with people as stubborn as herself, so she'd take a deep breath and try again in a few minutes, “I need to talk to you. It's important.”
The cubicle door would slam right next to Nikki's face when Dee kicked it angrily. She was in mid-tantrum and not listening to anyone. The cubicle would rattle every time she smashed her fists or feet against it. “My life is OVER! FUCK YOU!!” She'd scream, “Fuck you! Fuck Anon! Fuck this school! Fuck every single fucking person on this whole FUCKING PLANET!” Once you got Dee to the point where she'd say the f-word it'd just fall out of her mouth like a waterfall, make up for lost time or something.
Nikki had had enough of this girl spitting her dummy out by this stage, but Nicole wouldn't let her other side take over just yet. One more try, in just a few more minutes. A deep breath, and then, “Dee, I know you're angry... but I really have to tell you something.”
“No.” Her response was final and definite.
Time to let Nikki out. The red-haired girl clenched her teeth furiously and balled up her fists, “Listen you yellow SLUT! Come out NOW before I steal your fucking boyfriend and have his BABY!”

“You BITCH!” The cubicle door would fly open and the cat-fight would start. I don't really like to imagine this part. Dee was pretty angry, which is all that really matters between two untrained fighters, so she'd be going for vulnerable spots. Hair pulling, eye gouging, jugular ripping, biting, kicking. Anything just to cause as much pain as she could. Nikki on the other hand has lived her entire life in pain and misery and she was still here, so she wouldn't be afraid of what some angry ex could do to her. Both of them have a mean stubborn streak and they both had a point to prove in the fight. They both wanted to know who would win.

It only really makes sense in my version of events for Nikki to win the catfight by disabling Dee. As far as I know of course these two girls just sat down and had some tea together, but in my personal favourite version both of them are panting on the floor and Dee is stuck in a four point Judo joint lock that Nikki's pressing on her. Nikki, panting would say, “Ready...” pant, “To listen...” pant, “Now?”
Dee'd respond into the floor, “Mmf...” Now of course that's probably not the truth either, but the thing to understand when you tell a story about Nikki is that she had a way with people. I'm not sure if she had it with girls as well as guys, but she definitely had a way. She could get people to listen to her, bring people to her point of view. If she said something outrageous it'd be totally fine because it's just Nikki saying it, that kind of thing.

Either way, Nikki got Dee out of the bathroom and onto the balcony. Dee was very specific that the red haired girl wanted to talk to her on the balcony. It's at this point, that I need to describe the appearance of a woman that I haven't really mentioned in this whole story until now: Nicole Fisher. Nicole looks exactly like Nikki, only she seems a lot smaller. Her hair is just as red, and the curls would cascade down her shoulders in just the same way. Instead of fiery though, I'd describe Nicole's hair as copper. Their eyes were just as green, but where Nikki had an impish giggle attached to everything she said, Nicole would just stare. She'd stare at you with half closed lids, and eyes that were on the brink of watering, like she saw how terrible a person you really were inside and it made her cry just to think about it. Nicole doesn't smile as much as Nikki does, there wasn't much in this world that could make Nicole smile at all, really.

It was Nicole that was standing on the balcony with Dee. I don't think she'd be able to look at Dee, she'd just stare wistfully out across the city, wondering maybe how badly it'd hurt to hit the pavement from this high. That sort of thing made her smile, macabre. Dee would lose her patience with the silence after a few moments and clear her throat. She just wanted to scowl at the red-haired girl some more, try and hurt her with just a look.

Nicole looks over at the noise, and stares sadly at the angry Japanese girl in her pretty kimono. She looks down at the other girl's feet, but just feels empty inside, “Thank you for coming out.”
“I didn't really have a choice.” Dee says bitterly.
“I know,” Nicole responds, looking back towards the city. “I've been trying to think. I've been trying to think really hard about what to tell you... but I just can't put it right,” she shakes her head gently.
Dee doesn't have patience, “I'm going home.”
“No.” Nicole says it quietly, but looks at Dee in a way that freezes her. It was chilling how Nicole could look at you. “I need to tell you a single story, and ask you a single question before you can go.”
“Or else what?”
“I kill Anon.” Yep, my life was on the line. The chilling part is, Nicole said this with dead seriousness, not even so much as a flinch, a flicker of her eyes or a consideration. Nicole was fully ready and prepared to kill me to get her way, to manipulate Dee into listening.
Dee folds her arms, “What do you mean you'll kill him?”
Nicole closes her eyes, and looks back out over the city, “No questions... I have to be able to tell the story my way. I really have to concentrate, so if you interrupt me I'll have to start over...” I don't know what was going through Dee's mind at this stage. Curiosity? Her pride was probably still smarting from what the woman in front of her had done in the last half hour, but maybe she did have a story to tell. I like to think it was some ethereal nature that Nicole had that made Dee listen to her, like the ancient mariner and his wedding guest.

Ok this is the exact time anyone else has ever disappeared.

>>20209
Yeah, vanish before finishing this awesome story and I will hunt you down and make you finish this misery style!

Just jokes. ;)
~~~
“My name is Nicole Fisher, and I am a whore. From my count, my body has serviced the desires of one hundred and sixteen distinct men, and I have loved none of them.” She looks at Dee, her emerald eyes sparkling with something deeper than tears, “On December eighth, 1994, I lost my virginity to my father. I was eight years old. It's one of my earliest memories, my father raping me. I really don't remember much before that, even if I try really hard...

… The sexual abuse was slow at first. It would just sort of happen now and then. Once for my ninth birthday, a few months after that, December eighth again. He called it our secret anniversary, and every time December eight would come around he would introduce my body to a new form of depravity. By the time I was ten I was being routinely abused by my father every week. Like watching cartoons on Saturday. A tradition...

…I thought it was something normal, something every little girl went through with their daddy. He'd come home, give me a doll, brush my teeth before bed, rape me, and send me off to sleep in my pyjamas. He was just so normal and casual about it I thought I was being a bad daughter for not liking it...

… He called me beautiful... my father. He called me his precious doll while he put things in me. I felt like I was a toy to him, just a broken toy who didn't love her father enough to let him abuse her. He held me and told me sweet things, and at the same time he touched me places in ways that I still don't like to think about. My father was the most vile creature on earth, and on my eleventh birthday, my present... was to star in my own porno... Daddy's Angel...

… By this time, my vagina, my small child's vagina that was only designed for urination had become accustomed to servicing him. My eleventh birthday was the day that my father would finally thrust his entire penis inside of me, and rob me of the feeling of sexual pleasure forever. I had become numb down there, like it was just a pocket where he could thrust and dump part of himself and leave me crying. I was sad about losing part of my body, so sad that I cried myself to sleep, but I was also happy that I had finally become a good little girl like all the rest...

… When the other girls talked about boys at school, I told them about my graduation as Daddy's Angel. The other girls hated me immediately, 'How could you do that to your own father?' they asked me. I was shocked. I did something wrong? I'd done everything I was told didn't I? Everything I... everything I was forced to do I'd done with a smile, even when it hurt, even when I didn't want to I did it any way. I was a good girl wasn't I?...

… My mother died just before my twelfth birthday. She was the closest thing I had to a friend. I thought she was the greatest woman I knew, but the reality was probably closer to her being a beaten housewife. My father was truly a monster, and made her console me once after he was finished with me. She told me it would be okay, and told me secret things to say to myself to make all the pain of the world disappear. They were our spells, they'd keep us safe, they'd keep the bad people away...

… My father fell into alcohol further by the time I was twelve. The daily routine, was for me to come home from school, avoid his raging, get into trouble over something trivial like the dishes not being washed, be chained naked under the house, and be urinated on as a toilet. That was the way he punished me for being bad... Whenever he wasn't listening, I'd chant my mother's little spells to myself, and hope with all my heart that my father would die...”

I can't imagine how Dee felt while listening to this story, I honestly couldn't read all this in her case-file without feeling for little Nicole. Hearing it live would be fairly traumatic.

“... It was a cold night. I was sore, blindfolded, naked and chained to a steel drum. I'd defecated in shame and I was sitting in it. I felt dirty and so utterly, utterly alone. I was at the end. I couldn't take it anymore. I recited my mother's spell with one last, great effort, putting all my heart into it and feeling my tears sting my cheeks. And I swear... I swear to whatever fucked up God made this world... I felt somebody wipe it away. My tears...

… I looked up and there she was. My rescuer. I could see her even though I was blindfolded. The sister I'd summoned with my mother's spell and my last few tears. 'My name's Nikki!' she said, 'What are you doing down there?' I cried. I cried with such joy and so loudly because finally... finally I wasn't alone. It was so loud that my father woke up from passing out and unchained me...

… Nikki was older than me by four minutes. My twin. We were so close that nobody could tell us apart, we could even share the same skin. She was so much different from me though, so much stronger. She didn't let anyone tell her what to do and wouldn't let anyone hurt us. She was also a simple girl, she liked running, fast cars and guns. Things that could take us away... She told me with a whispered smile my secret, that I really was an angel, and that I could perform miracles. I had three inside me, and I'd used the first to make her. So when it came time for me to spend time with my father? I hid her. I had to, she was my precious miracle that I'd made. One of us had to get raped, and if Nikki would protect me everywhere else, I would protect Nikki from our father...

…By the time highschool came around, I'd regressed as a person until I almost wasn't there anymore. I was incredibly shy, but Nikki said she'd hold my hand all the way. She promised to make me popular, and to find a way out. She had a plan, just find a scarier man than my father and get them to kill eachother. It was genius...

… At only thirteen, Nikki was seducing seniors with her body. She had a way. You already know she had a way. It was her talent: seduction, control. Nikki lost her virginity to a pair of seventeen year old boys who were high on pot. She worked her way slowly around the stoner circle, finding older brothers, finding uncles, fathers. Any man. We had to test them. We had to test every man we met because we knew that one of them had to be strong enough to make us as scared as daddy did...

...None of them did though. The boys and girls at school didn't understand me and Nikki. They made fun of us constantly, and I never got to have any friends. I asked her why they were calling us a slut, and she smiled and said 'it means Super Luscious and Unusually Talented.' She was my only hope, my only rock. I had to believe in her plan because my father was going to kill me one day, and I had to believe that if I just prayed hard enough I could make another miracle...

… At the start of my fifteenth year I'd all but given up. It was hopeless. I'd been a big highschooler and fucked everything from jocks to teachers. Nobody could make me feel as scared as my father did. He was invincible. I cried in despair, but Nikki had another plan. One last great strategy to escape my father. A suicide pact. 'Let's face it, we aren't going anywhere anyway.' She shrugged at me, 'At best we can do hair maybe.' Then she held me, so tenderly and said, 'Let's go back to mummy and try again. I'm sure if we explain ourselves properly, God won't blame us. Let's just die and be born again, in different bodies this time' We swore, finish junior, go out with a bang, have as much fun as we could and die. Die smiling. Die free...

… And that's when we met Anon. I didn't think much of him at first. Just an awkward, wiry boy with no muscles and no attitude. Nikki threw an invitation at him, and we both laughed when he got all awkward and embarrassed. We decided to tease him for kicks. He was meant to have this big, powerful brain but he was totally clueless. We liked tormenting him softly. I don't think he ever got the joke though, because he just kept smiling at me...

… It was that smile. He was tireless in believing in me. Kept helping me with math, kept scribbling notes for me in business. He taught me better than the teachers ever did, and he just seemed to listen to me without any reserve or impatience. Anon had time for me, made time for me. And because he'd rejected Nikki's invitation, for the first time I thought 'maybe he doesn't just want to fuck'...

… Of course, Nikki told me to stop being stupid. 'He's a boy!' she'd say. Then she'd torment me by making him attracted to her. I cried to myself and I didn't want to believe it, but I saw it with my own two eyes. Anon liked Nikki, he'd never like me the way he liked her...

… But despite myself I liked hanging around Anon. Even if it was my sister he liked to talk to, I liked just to listen to him. It was like I was sitting quietly in a third chair, watching them laugh and have fun. Nikki would smile at me and even she would say things like 'He's not that bad to be around, even if he is a man'. I'd fantasize quietly about Nicole and Anon, and I secretly carved our names under my dining room table. We were hanging out at a burger joint when he first said he liked me. I was so happy I was beside myself, even though I realised I only had a few months left I got to experience a boy I liked liking me back, I was so grateful but it was so bittersweet...

...After he said he liked me he said he was afraid of Nikki because he was just a virgin. I thought that was cute, but Nikki hated him again immediately. I think maybe for the first time in her life she was jealous, Anon liked a different girl, her own sister even! She wanted to prove more than anything that Anon was like everyone else and just wanted my body... So we tested him...

… I integrated myself into his life, told him he couldn't have me, and waited to see what he'd do. And do you know what he did? He played the piano! I'd never heard a pianist play before, and he was playing for me, every time I was over for hours on end with hardly a complaint. Take that Nikki, I said to her, I knew I was right. 'Just wait' she replied, 'Just wait till you kiss him. There's a monster inside Anon and I'll prove it.'...

… When I gave Anon his first kiss, I realised that it was also my first kiss, as Nicole. I was shocked but then he kissed me again, and it felt good. Kissing felt good for the first time and I realised it was all because it was with a boy I actually liked. A boy who wouldn't hurt me. I made up some bullshit and made him stop, so he just turned around and kept playing his piano...

… You have to realise, I'd barely spoken two words to Anon by this stage. I always just listened to Nikki trying to seduce him, and laughed at her when she failed or he got too embarrassed to continue. But then Nikki did something really cruel to me, the next test. She made me make out with him. He was bad at it and he fucked it up, but he also did something that no man ever did for me. When I said 'ow' he just stopped, let go. He wouldn't hurt me even when he was on top of me and I was helpless under him. But then he fucked up again...

… He said he loved me. I freaked. I couldn't love anyone! I was going to die in a few months. What if I broke his heart? What if I fucked it all up. What was I meant to say back? I couldn't be his wife. That boy's piano, his soul, it was so beautiful and pure, and I was just daddy's toilet girl... I didn't speak to him, I just couldn't face him for weeks after that...

… Graduation, the big night. Nikki was going to prove to me once and for all that Anon was a bad person who just wanted to have sex with me. We ditched with him and found a deserted hill on top of a carpark, beneath a single lamp post. We'd found a note in our bag signed from him with 'Fuck off Slut' all over it, but it wasn't in Anon's handwriting. Do you know what he actually wrote? 'Come listen to the piano again'. I cried so hard and so long that I shooed Nikki away for the first time in my life. I decided that Nikki wasn't allowed to seduce Anon anymore. It had to be me. I had to be the one to be with Anon...

...But that was going to be my last night on Earth. Could I really let it end like that? Could I just go back to heaven and hug mummy and tell her all about Anon and his piano, and have her scold me for not being honest with him? Suddenly I got so mad and so frustrated that I screamed for hours. Why couldn't I just do what Anon wanted and listen to the piano again. Why couldn't I take this pain away. Why couldn't I just have a father that didn't urinate in my face anymore...

… and so I wished. It was the second time in my life that I made a wish so hard and with so much passion that I could explode. I wished it on top of the hill, underneath the single lamp post after Anon was gone. I wished it under the night sky, clenched every muscle in my body and just wished with all my heart. Let me hear Anon's piano again. I said it so purely and with such conviction I just knew that it had to come true. I felt a hand on my shoulder and flinched. When I whipped around nobody was there, but somehow I felt like my wish would be granted...

...It was my second miracle. I knew that as soon as I looked down at my father's lifeless body. There was blood everywhere, and I felt horrified by my own power. Even though he was such a terrible person, to see his completely lifeless body underneath my own naked body covered in blood was truly horrifying. I cried for hours and just didn't eat, didn't sleep. I didn't even put clothes on, I was just naked and shivering in the corner...

… The police found me after my father failed to turn up to work for a week. I was rescued by social workers and put into care. It was a secret home for abused and battered women. Nikki hated it there, but I thought it was like a coven of kind witches. They all had their own spells, their own recipes. They had their own ways and magic tricks that they used to help them when they were being beaten. They had miracles in them just like I did. We'd sit around the table and laugh together, and trade our stories of the way we discovered that we were magical...

… I even got to see Anon again. 'What happened to you?' he asked me. He'd never forgotten me. He was mad at me but it felt different from any other time anyone had ever been angry with me. He was angry because he cared about me. He was angry because he'd just wanted to talk to me. I decided quietly that I didn't mind this kind of scolding. It was sweet, like an expression of a feeling that I didn't quite understand...

… Anon gave me his phone so he could contact me again. Then my dream came true. My second wish was granted and I could hear Anon's fingers play music again. The coven was angry with me however, they strictly wouldn't allow me to use Anon's phone. Technology interrupted their magic. Nikki told me quietly that she'd keep the phone safe, because she knew how much it meant to me to be able to contact Anon again...

… Nikki saw how much I liked Anon. She saw what he meant to me and how much I wanted to be with him. She was still jealous of him, but she accepted that eventually that's what sisters do, they find men to love and drift apart. She said I was free to love Anon on one condition. He had to pass the ultimate test. Nikki wanted to know if Anon was like my father in any way, shape or form. She wanted to see the depths of his soul, and to reach into his heart and bring out his hate...

...She seduced him in front of me, while I sat by the piano and watched. She moved her body and weaved her magic. She spoke honeyed words into his ear and made him smile. I'd seen that look he was giving her so many times on so many men I'd gotten used to it. I wanted him to look at me like that too, but not just then. Anon truly thought Nikki meant to take his virginity, she dangled her body in front of him cruelly like a prize and laughed as he begged for it...

…Then she ripped it away. She ripped it away so that he'd hate her. Nikki had done as best as she could, and finally she could see the darkness inside Anon's soul. She was making Anon kill her. Choke her. With her point proven and her victory complete, she looked over to me, and said 'Come look in his eyes now, and tell me this man isn't our father...' and so I re-entered her skin, and looked up at Anon's face while he choked me...

… So I looked. I looked at his eyes and they were on fire. But behind that fire there was only sadness. I could see people in ways that Nikki couldn't, I could read eyes and feel the emotions that they betrayed. It was one of the special powers I'd learned from the witches. Anon didn't hate me the same way my father did. Anon didn't think of me as nothing the same way as the men Nikki seduced. Anon was just a lonely little boy who thought nobody loved him. 'Why did you hurt me when I love you' his eyes demanded. I stroked his cheek. I stroked it softly to just try and say 'I'm sorry, Anon. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll be with you' And he let go. Right before my eyes, Anon's darkness left him, like a black smoke that simply drifted away from his soul...

… Nikki and I both held him then. We both held him while he cried and thought he was a horrible person. That was the moment Nikki smiled at me and told me it was okay. She'd never seen anyone quite like him before, a boy so pure that he cried whenever he caused anybody pain. She said it was okay for me to love him now. That I could give my body to him whenever I wanted, that she trusted him...

… Unfortunately life doesn't always turn out the way you want. I didn't see Anon for a couple of weeks after that, and during that time an old darkness invaded my coven. One of the new witches had brought a monster back with her by mistake. A monster with no hair, a thousand teeth and a voice that cracked like thunder. He seduced me with sweet words and promises, abducted me, and finally shipped me off in a van like packaged meat...

… I found myself naked again. Tied against a bed with my legs forced open. At sixteen-years-old I was to be trained to be used as a whore. The bald monster and his friends traded money so that they could take turns in using me. The reward I got was a needle poked into my skin to make the pain wash away. They said I was a Crystal, renamed me. A whore isn't a person, you see. That's what you have to realise. The whore was my body; my face, the eyes I used to entice people, the smile I could use to encourage them. The whore was the holes they could use to service themselves and ejaculate in. My body was now the Crystal...

… The problem was I was still in my body. I could still watch and see the bald man and his friends use me and hit me and hurt me. I didn't know what to do. I was trapped again, used by men who were like clones of my father. But Nikki wouldn't allow it. Every time someone came in to rape me, Nikki jumped into my skin and pushed me out. 'What a good whore' they complemented me, 'She takes dick so eagerly'. But none of them knew it wasn't me. None of them knew what Nikki was doing for me...

… Nikki took every single man for me, and told me that my body was only for Anon now. Nikki could have sex with hundreds of men for me, just to protect that precious experience that I wanted with Anon. I cried all night because of what she was doing. But I swore to do the only thing I could. I kept a record of Nikki's sacrifices and etched them deep into my heart. I counted every single man Nikki fucked to protect my dream...

… Two weeks later Anon contacted me, saying he wanted to see me. This was it. I was so scared when I got his text I didn't know what to do. Nikki wrapped her arms around me while I held the phone and calmed me down. She pressed the buttons for me, and we both told him that we were ready. I wanted to finally give him the gift I wanted to. I wanted to finally show him how beautiful a boy he was. Then I could do it. Then I could disappear into a needle and be Crystal for the rest of my life because I'd achieved this one goal...

...But then Anon saw me as the Crystal. I was with the bald monster, but he was away hunting food for me. He had to keep me fed because a dead Crystal isn't worth as much money. I begged him to leave. I begged him but he just didn't understand. Then the bald one came back, and immediately threw his rage at poor Anon. I did anything, said anything I could to distract the bald man. I threw myself in his way so that Anon could run away...

… Nikki came to me that night and asked me what was wrong while I sobbed into my pillow. I told her 'I can't stand Anon looking at the Crystal!” My tears stained my cheeks and I swore over and over again, 'He can never know! He can never know!' I wanted, I needed Anon's first time to be with a beautiful and healthy sixteen-year-old girl. I couldn't stand the idea of him losing his one precious virginity to an object like me... Nikki said she'd fix it for me, she'd trick Anon and make him forget the Crystal so that he'd never know that was me...

… I thought I'd said the spell correctly, to cast my third miracle and make sure Anon never knew. But the day Anon and I met to take his virginity away would turn out to be the third worst day of my life. The first being December eighth, the second being my birthday. Because on that day in May, I met Anon's father...

… We'd just come out of the arcade. Anon forced me to go on a date with him. I was so happy I was beside myself the whole time. It was a feeling I'd forgotten in the last two weeks, being a person. I was being treated like I was important, like I was allowed to have fun. Nikki cried while she watched us, she was so happy. As we walked into the carpark I was so nervous I could've collapsed, so I did the only thing I knew how to do. I hid it by kissing him...

… But then the horror started. The bald man came back and bit Anon with his fists. He called me a Crystal in front of Anon over and over, but I thought it might be okay, because Anon was knocked out. Little did I know that Anon's father had watched us the entire time. He stormed over like a giant, and he thundered like a God. He almost killed the bald man with a punch, he broke the man's bones like twigs, and ripped his guts like paper...

… For the first time in two weeks I was free of the bald man, but I'd landed in a situation worse than I could ever imagine. I couldn't find Nikki. No matter how much I looked or what I did, Nikki was nowhere. I don't think she was hiding, I'm sure that Anon's father did something to her. When Anon woke up, I had to do the worst, most embarrassing thing I'd done since sitting in my own waste. I had to admit to Anon I was a whore, in my own words, with my own mouth...

… He knew. He knew I wasn't joking and that I was just a toy. In fact, his father proved it by commanding me to service him in front of Anon. I couldn't resist. It was like facing a vengeful God. I cried on the inside while I stroked him, I wished I was dead when I felt Anon's precious eyes on me. And then he saved me. He saved me just before I completely died on the inside again. He demanded me from his father, trading me for a piano song...

… Placated, the father left. I'd been traded for a song. To Anon I was worth as much, or more than music. I couldn't process it. I couldn't cry. I couldn't feel anything anymore. Now I belong to Anon was the only thought that ever went through my mind. But instead of being his Crystal, his sister called the nice people to come help me again...

… The nice people all wore white. They healed my body, stitched up the wounds on my skin, and freed me from needles. There were sage old men with scruffly little beards, there were beautiful young women with pearly white smiles, there was even a little dwarf with a gruff but friendly attitude. I understood eventually that the place I was in was a place for people like me, to talk and heal... and eventually I realised... I was insane...

… They told me that spells and miracles, witches and monsters, Crystals and gods, phantom sisters that nobody could see, these things didn't really exist. They were my way of dealing with something that was going on. But I couldn't remember it properly. My mind kept constructing these fantasies to suit the way I wanted to think about it. So they gave me pills and potions that helped me sleep, stopped my screaming... It's ironic when I think about it. The ones trying to convince me my fantasies weren't real were like wizards handing out potions to me...

… One of the girls I was living with snuck into their office and showed me one of the wizard's scrolls. It was about me, 'incurable', I laughed because I was never sick! For the first time I was really enjoying life again. I was in a safe place where I could be Nicole and Nikki at the same time and whenever I wanted. The other people with me weren't sick either, everyone out here had just decided they were and locked them away...

… They took us on field trips now and then. I got to go to a themepark and eat candy like a little girl. I got to go on long drives and watch the scenery whiz by. I got to see forests and go camping. And then... earlier this year... I got to go to the beach...

… They took us to a small beach on the Gold Coast. They took us to an unpopular one in winter, so that we wouldn't disturb anyone with our insanity. So you can imagine my surprise, my complete and utter surprise when I saw a car I recognised. I dropped my bag. I dropped everything and one of the wizards' ogres had to ask me if I was okay. Anon's car, Anon was close. Nikki came back to me immediately and convinced the ogre everything was fine...

… I escaped from them. I escaped the sanctuary that the wizards made for me because I needed to find Anon. Nikki was brilliant, her plans always seemed to work out in the end, and we found the beach Anon was laying on as if by magic. He was alone, lying on the sand and just watching the waves. What should I do? What do I say? What can you say to a man you haven't seen for two years when you know you're insane?...

… Nikki calmed me down, 'Leave everything to me,' she said, 'You might be insane, but I'm perfectly healthy.' I laughed and cried, but then Nikki dried my tears and worked her magic again, right in front of me. We were talking to Anon and before I knew it we were kissing again. I could feel his body pressed against mine and it felt so warm and so wonderful. I knew he'd lost his virginity by this stage, but I just wanted this moment to meet with him again, and ask him how he lost it...

… So you can imagine my surprise when he told me he'd been waiting for me! Somehow he knew I'd come back. When I looked at him, lying there on the beach, I realised. That little boy that I knew back then, Anon, to me he wasn't an awkward, wiry little boy. To me, Anon was an angel. Suddenly it all made sense, Anon was an angel, that's how he could be so bright all the time. That's where his music came from, that's how he seemed to know everything in school. He even saved me from the evil God by trading me for a song. Angels really do exist, and one had been looking after me the whole time...

… I'm so selfish. When I felt his warmth I just wanted to bask in it forever. I was so happy I cried in his arms. I was such an impure and dirty person and somehow I'd made an even an angel want me. I wasn't surprised when he told me about you. A woman who loved him. I wasn't surprised at all to find out that you were brilliant, talented and more beautiful than I could ever be. I was only surprised that he was still waiting for me, before he could give his heart to anybody else...

… You ARE perfect for him, Deborah Lang. And he loves you. Of those two facts I have absolutely and positively no doubt. I'm jealous beyond words, but I accept it. I accept that you are the woman who should be his first time. A beautiful virgin girl for a beautiful virgin boy. It's so perfect it makes me sick...

… But Anon told me he wanted me to be a woman for just a little longer before I could disappear. So I did everything in my power to make it here tonight. I lived, these last few months, homeless and begging. I begged and went hungry for days to afford this dress and this haircut. I sucked cocks for change just to put on this cheap pharmacy makeup. I starved and worked so hard to stay alive just for this one night, to make Anon's first time perfect. To make sure it was with a beautiful girl who deserved him... of course, I didn't want Anon to get some disease off me, so I made sure I was completely ready to have sex with him before I came. I wouldn't be here if there was any chance some of my darkness could rub off on him...

… You see... I'm going to disappear, Deborah Lang. I'm going to disappear tonight whether or not Anon makes love to me, because I'm sick of this life. I'm tired of being a whore. I'm tired of men who don't love me. I'm tired of the gray life at the hospital that's neither happy nor sad. I want to finally forget the horrible things that happened to me as a child. I want to meet my mother again and tell her about the angel I met. I want to be reborn with Nikki as a real sister in a different body to me. I want to die so badly, and the only thing keeping me alive right now is the idea that I might make Anon smile just one more time...

… And this brings me to why I'm here, on this balcony with you. Earlier tonight, I gave you a little taste of the experiences I've had to endure, living with Nikki. Nikki has seduced Anon over and over again in front of me, and it hurt each and every time she did it. I wanted her to do it in front of you, so I could see your eyes when you were in pain. So I could know you. You're a good person, Deborah Lang. Your heart is pure like silver, and your body is perfect like a doll's. I realised, when Nikki hurt you, that you were the one destined to have Anon, not me...

… But I'm still a selfish person. I know, as well as you do, that if I went back inside that Anon would choose me over you. I'm not like Nikki though. While she revels in a jilted lover's pain, I just can't stand seeing a woman Anon loves cry. I need... I need your permission before I can let Anon take me. I also needed you to know the woman that I am, and my story before you said no. Because if you do say no, Deborah Lang, you'll watch me as I fling myself off this balcony and into the waiting arms of death...

… Which brings me to my question. Will you grant a selfish and vile woman like myself... her last request?”

Well what do you say to that? I sure as hell don't know. I think Dee just went quiet for a while, watching Nicole at the edge of the balcony. Right now, Dee had the power to kill the red-haired girl with just a word, but she'd have to watch. In some ways, I guess this was Dee's chicken shed. This was the point where Dee realised that she had a cleaver in her hand, and that the only law that existed in that moment was the one she made up. Unlike me though, who saw the chicken as a frightened and unwilling participant, Dee's chicken was daring her. 'Go ahead. Say no. Watch me die in front of you.'

I don't think Dee tried to argue or talk Nicole down. Any word she'd speak other than 'yes' would mean that Nicole would end her life in an instant. I think Dee just thought about it, weighed the value of sex against life. If she says yes, she'll have time to call the police, let them take her away. If she says yes then maybe a sick woman can get the protection she needs. But I'd also be at risk. This insane stranger had already threatened to kill me once, maybe it'd be better to say no and just put Nicole out of her misery.

In the end, I don't know why Dee said it. She told me once that it was hard to hate someone so utterly pathetic. She couldn't hate Nicole because she'd been so hated and traumatised that any hate Dee added on would just bounce right off and not even affect her. Dee probably thought about her own problems, and her own issues, and wondered what she'd do in Nicole's shoes. Maybe she just couldn't stand the thought of watching someone die in front of her.

“Let's fix your makeup then,” she said quietly, “... you look like a whore.”

Holy fuck bro.

>>20220
Damn dude, I think I got something in my eye....

Jeez, man. This is incredible. You've got serious talent. If I could print and bind this I'd put it on my bookshelf. Can't wait for the finale. Thanks for posting this here.

>>20220
The feels are too intense...

Is it over?

>>20243

Author here: YOU THINK I'D COME THIS FAR AND NOT WRITE THE GODDAMNED SEX?!?!

Another great story to add to the list of ones posted on this board.

So many twists and turns it is great.

>>20248
I don't know man, I've been teased by others before...

Hey guys, original author here.

Before I post the finale, I wanted to rap a little bit about the issues regarding ownership and distribution. I know it's not fun and if you don't intend to save or distribute this work then you can skip this post entirely.

Basically? I don't know what I want to do with this manuscript. I started it two weeks ago on a whim, and as of about two minutes ago I just wrote the ending of what ended up being my first full-length novel. I've decided specifically NOT to release this work under creative commons. My reason for doing this is because I don't like the idea of people modifying a first draft when I'll be editing it myself, and I don't know how it affects the saleability of the work in case I do completely finalise it and send this off to a traditional publisher. Not releasing this under CC means that it's illegal to save or distribute the work in any way.

On the other side of the coin, I can't stop you. I'm physically unable, from my keyboard, to stop you from selecting text and saving it on your machine. I'm also unable to stop you from printing it, or emailing it to your friends. In fact, as the creator of this work, that's EXACTLY what I want you to do. The internet is a beautiful thing, my work exists because of it, and I want to give back to the internet by releasing this free for everyone. And the final work? After I've sat down and had a good think about this manuscript? I probably will release it under CC and go for gold, because it's my personal fantasy to find a website I've never visited and read my own story and find out people liked it.

The manuscript isn't in a form that I'd like it though, it's definitely not complete and there's still a lot of work to be done. I will release a downloadable, properly formatted pdf in either a dropbox or a mediafire link and it will contain the first draft. It'll probably be this weekend that I'll do that.

If you decide to distribute my text, then I have a single, and I think reasonable request:

If it's on a futaba-chan style message board like this one:
-Please select and paste the content of each individual post I've written. Label the subjects of your post as I have, except give the posts a proper numbering style (so 6.5 becomes 7 etc).
-Cut and paste THIS POST IN ITS ENTIRETY in between the climax (Nicole's story) and the sex.
-If time allows, please also do me a favour by posting chapters with two day intervals, as if it was being written in real time.

If it's NOT on a futaba-chan style message board; so if we're talking about releasing this on a blog or on literotica or some other story-swap site, then please do the following:
-Label chapters 1-4 as Act I: Nikki, 5-7 (relabelling 6.5 as necessary) as Act II: Dee and the rest of the chapters as Act III: The Formal.
-Do not copy this post at all.
-Put the following foreword before chapter one:

Foreword:
What you are about to read is a series of posts that originated in early November, 2013 on an anonymous, chan-style message board. This is the same style of message board that internet hacktivist group Anonymous calls home. A lot of regular people use these boards however, and under the guise of anonymity share their stories, some possibly true.

This particular story was posted under a thread titled “ITT: How you lost your virginity” and it was apparently written over a period of two weeks, while the author passionately and with many tears shared his story. It's important when reading it to understand the style used and the audience the author intended it for. When you write a story on a chan-style board, you write in first person, your main character is always “Anonymous”, and your style of narration should always be conversational and choppy. Names, dates and locations are presumably altered to protect this anonymity.

'Anon' also directs his story at people who are familiar with the memes of 2013, and hides jokes in the text in order to entertain people that are part of the board's culture. The traditional start of an anonymous story is “Be me,” which is intentionally vague, and the audience is given an information drip whenever things become relevant.

The story can be described as dark, brutal and honest. So if you can put up with the unusual, non-traditional style of narration, we hope you can enjoy the tale of sex, love and depravity that is Nikki.

I was waiting at my seat near the dancefloor. People were going home or off to the after-party. The music had long stopped and students had formed small conversation clusters where everyone was laughing and throwing their heads back. I span the empty punch glass on the table and just stared at it. Dee's fury replayed in my head over and over again, and I felt like shit. 'I'll fix it,' Nikki had said, what did that mean?

The two approached me by the side, and I stood up immediately when I saw them. They were as beautiful as eachother, that much was plain to see when they were side by side. They each had their own way, their own individual charm that permeated the air around them. Dee's mysterious eyes that flicked from side to side when she looked at you while thinking, Nikki's impish giggle that made her eyes sparkle with a hidden light. Different, but equally charming.

I remember that Dee couldn't look me straight in the face like Nikki could at that point. Her face was downcast and her expression was complicated. Nikki had a look on her face I'd barely ever seen before, not lustful or lewd or even playful, she just... looked comely. I stayed quiet, because I sensed that's what they wanted me to do, and just waited until they were an arm's length before me.

Dee reached up with a trembling hand, and gently started to dust my lapel, “Dee, I-”
“Shut up,” her voice was trembling, and she moved to dusting my shoulder. She still didn't raise her eyes to me, “... you're still a fuck-head.”
I didn't really know what to do, I didn't know what was going on, was she crying? Was she mad? I just stood there, watching the woman I'd destroyed.
Dee looked up at me, and our eyes met for just a second before she had to look away. She brought both her hands up to my tie, loosened it and straightened it, just fiddling. While she did, she looked over at Nicole, who just stared back with those infinite eyes. She drew a deep breath and looked back, resolved to say her piece, “When I was in primary school,” she started, “I liked a boy.”

“He wasn't anything special... just a popular kid in class.” She shrugged gently and took a glance back at Nicole, and moved her eyes to the floor sheepishly. “There was another girl who liked him too. One with blond hair and blue eyes. The boy liked me more than her. I know he did.” She dropped her hands from my tie and went back to brushing me off, “So she spread a rumour,” she looked up into my eyes deeply, “She told the boy, that being Asian was a disease I had. That if he touched me, or hung out with me at lunch too much, he'd catch the Asian off me.”

Her jaw moved as she grinded her teeth, I guess it was a combination of anger and sadness. “It was a stupid lie told to a stupid boy, but it worked.” She went back to fiddling with my clothing, I still couldn't understand why she was doing that, maybe to distract herself from what she had to say. “I realised as I watched them that I'd lost my first boyfriend purely because I was Asian.” she thought for a bit, “Or more, because people didn't understand Asians. So I swore two things, as a ten year old girl. I wrote them down and I recited them ten times every day. One? I would be proud of my heritage, no matter what. I would embrace it and prove to everyone that it was what made me special.” She considered her words a little, and added, “I guess, with you, I figured if I lost my first boyfriend by being Asian, I could win my second one with that same simple fact.” She paused a moment to take a breath, “The second thing I promised, was that I would never let some home-wrecking bitch just waltz in and steal love from me without a fight.” She stifled a bitter laugh, “I guess I don't have much luck.”

She stopped fiddling and took a step back, her eyes still downcast. “I really wanted you to look at me and think I was special.” She looked over at Nicole slowly, who smiled to encourage her, “I really fought for you but...” she looked up at me slowly, “It was hopeless. Your heart belonged to her even before that Saturday in May, didn't it...” She fiddled with her fingers nervously, “I was the home-wrecking bitch, wasn't I...”

I didn't answer, I would have said 'no' of course, but it didn't feel right to tell her. “A lot of things about you make sense now. Why you won't talk about that Saturday, why you box, what you were trying to tell me at the carpark... my birthday. I even understand why you only like vanilla porno, why you just want to see pretty women that like to smile.” She reached up to rest a palm on my shoulder, looked directly into Nicole's eyes, clenched her teeth and drew me into a kiss in front of her. When she was done, she looked up at me and said, “You're a good guy, you just have fucked up taste in women...” she paused a bit while her hand dropped from my shoulder, “...and I guess that includes me.”

She moved to turn away, and turned her head to speak over her shoulder. “I've decided I don't blame you anymore for anything that's happened, Anon, but I can't forgive you yet.” She smiled softly, “You ruined my romantic high-school life after all.” She looked down, and then over to Nicole, before she smiled again, “Some things are more important that a silly schoolgirl's dreams though.” She thought a while before she moved off, and thoughtfully said, “Let's meet up again when we're both in uni and a bit older. At a cafe or by the river. You can tell me all about the red-haired girl there, and how this story ends.” She managed to smile at me one last time, “Have fun... Anon. And hide the sharps.”

Believe me, considering I didn't know what Nikki and Dee had talked about? That was the most mysterious fucking conversation I had /ever/ had with Deborah Lang. And 'hide the sharps'? THAT'S the only warning I get that I'm about to sleep with an escaped mental patient who murdered her own father in cold blood? I guess Dee was still mad at me. Before her back had even disappeared out the door though, Nicole was in front of me, smiling softly. “Hey stud,” she whispered, “Told you I'd fix her.” Something felt different about her voice... huskier, sweeter. of course I didn't know about Nicole and Nikki explicitly at this stage, all I knew was that the girl I'd fallen for had a sweet side she didn't show very often. Suffice to say, that from this point on in the story, Nikki had decided that her work was done in bringing us together for this moment, and was content letting Nicole enjoy every moment of her final wish.
“You call that fixed?” I looked at her questioningly, obviously worried.
She shrugged smoothly and looked at my tie, “Well, at least she fixed your tie for me...” she looked up at me with a stare I'd never seen before, somewhere between sadness and happiness, “I offered her a threesome, but she wasn't down.”

I laughed, despite myself, and slid my hands around her waist, “You're so mean.”
“She's mean!” Nicole shot back, frowning earnestly, “I told her to talk to you. Not fucking kiss you in front of me.”
I didn't really know what to say. Nicole was still a little strange to me, so I was at a loss.
“I guess I deserved it,” she said quietly after a moment. After that, Nicole looked at me, and she seemed to smile with just her emerald eyes. Her lips soon followed the eyes in smiling, and her head tilted slightly. I'm not sure what it was about the gesture or the way she looked at me, but something was saying 'hurry up and kiss me', so my lips met hers before a second thought passed my mind.
When we'd finished kissing, I looked at her strangely, my mind still hadn't quite comprehended that this was Nicole, “What did you two talk about, anyway?”
She shrugged cryptically, “Girl stuff. I don't wanna spend all night talking about the Japanese girl you know.”
I smirked, but something seemed cruel about the way Nicole was talking, so I put in, “She's a good person.”
Nicole nodded. “She is. Tell your mum you're staying at a friend's,” she said softly, taking my wrist and guiding me to the exit, her mouth growing into a smile “I've got a lot statutory rape to commit.” She gave me Nicole's version of a naughty grin.

Nicole was balking. She turned as white as chalk and stopped completely in her tracks. When my eyes followed her gaze, only one word came to my mind. Un-fucking-believable. Thomas Little was not a kind man. I think that phrase whenever I have to think about my father. It's involuntary, like a knee-jerk reflex. It's as if reminding myself that Thomas Little is a force of complete and total evil lets me know that nothing that happens in the typhoon of his destruction is my fault. The last time I met Thomas Little was in a carpark where I was kissing a girl named Nicole after going on a date with her. This time, I was meeting Thomas Little in a carpark, after going to my high-school formal with that very same girl named Nicole.

I remember shaking. I remember clenching my fists so hard that my fingernails bit painfully into my palms. I remember Nicole shrinking behind me. My father was just standing there, about fifty feet away. He was standing there like a corpulent pimple on the ass-end of society. I wanted to pop him so bad that I could break my teeth from clenching my jaw so hard. “Hello, son,” was all he said.

“How's school,” he said quietly after a second, it was like our ritual.
“Fine.” I was shaking in rage.
“How's your mother?”
“Fine.”
“Sister?” I never answered this question. Just looked at him and shot daggers with my eyes as hard as I could.
“I see you kept that whore I gave you,” he said slowly.
“She's NOT a whore!” I screamed it, demanding, “She's what /I/ say she is, and her NAME is Nicole Fisher!”
That made him angry. That was okay though, I liked making him angry. “DON'T talk to your father like that you ungrateful BRAT!”
“Ungrateful?!” I was clenching my teeth, “What'd YOU ever do for ME!”
“WHYY I OUGHTTA--” He strode over to me raising a backhand. He covered the distance in quite a short time considering that he looked sort of like an angry biker Santa Clause.

I was prepared to kill him. All of my fighting instincts went on fire when he approached me. I thought up my strategy almost instantaneously when he started approaching. Nothing could stop my father. I knew that as a fundamental fact, and it was as true when I was a seventeen-year-old boxer as when I was a fifteen-year-old boy. I thought though, maybe I could get a few good hits in, maybe I could let him know just how much I hated him and how badly I wanted to hurt him.

Nothing could stop my father. Except himself. I was so shocked when he stopped in his tracks, his backhand raised, that I almost unclenched my fists. He lowered his meaty paw slowly, and it dropped to his side, he just looked at me.”I didn't come here to yell at you.”
“So fuck off,” I didn't let up. Never give Thomas Little an inch.
“Just let me-”
“NO!” I started walking past him. He put a strong hand on my shoulder to stop me and I tried to rip it off. The difference in our strength was obvious immediately. It's hard to fathom just how big a man like Thomas Little is until you meet him, he was a champion powerlifter, and he had the disposition of a junk-yard dog. Suffice to say that I, once again, was forced to be subjected to his presence.

He didn't say much, my father. Just looked at me in that moment. By now I was fuming, castrated and humiliated again by Thomas Little. “What do you want anyway,” my words dripped with venom.
“... to talk to my son,” he said quietly.
“So TALK!” I just couldn't stand him, I honestly and truly couldn't.
“I came to hear your concert,” he said slowly, “The one you gave at the end of school last year.”
I looked away from him, I didn't even want to think about him listening to me play piano. Especially in the same room as my mother and sister.
“It sounded good... that Moonlight or whatever.” He closed his eyes, “Sounded... sad.”
My voice was monotone, sarcastic, “Glad you liked it.”
“Been following you lately...” he said, he always spoke so slowly and so softly. A man his size never really had to raise his voice. “Saw you at the arcade with the oriental broad again.”
I glanced at him, the fuck was he on about?
“You beat the pimp who beat you up two years ago,” he rumbled thoughtfully, “Got him good. I thought yeah... my son.”
“I'm not your son.”
He nodded, “I know, I know.” That surprised me, normally he'd fly off his rocker and start smashing things for a comment like that. He looked at me deeply with my eyes, I always hated how he had my eyes, “I was never good enough to be your old man, was I?”

I think that was the point I turned to him, the first time I really saw him that night. Thomas Little. I hated that name more than life itself. “Why are you here?” I asked the question a little softer this time.
“... to talk to my son,” he said it again in the same tone as before.
What the hell was he on about? What angle was he driving.
“Principle says you're off to university.”
I shrugged, “'snot that big a deal.”
“Says you almost dux'd the school.”
I shook my head, “Didn't have to, the bar for uni entry was too low, I could get in easy so I didn't bother.”
He nodded, “Other priorities?”
“Training, piano.”
His beard bristled as he pressed his lips together thoughtfully, “Those are good priorities. And the wh... this woman? Girlfriend?”
I shrugged, I didn't really know what to say.
He looked away, heaving a great sigh, “You became a good man, son. You're a much better man now than if I'd ever raised you. I have to admit that.”
“... thanks.”

He looked at me, with all the seriousness and conviction he could muster, “I only ever wanted the best for you,” he lied, “you should know that much about me.”
“... yeah,” I could lie too.
“What do you want me to do,” he almost said it soothingly, if I didn't hate him so much. “How... how do I redeem myself, to my only son?”
I knew he wouldn't do it. “Just go to prison,” I said it so coldly I could freeze ice. “Die there. Don't hurt anybody again.”
He was shaking, his voice was what passes for emotional in Thomas Little, “I just... I didn't want you to fuck a whore... son.”
“I. Wouldn't. Have.” I paused, glaring at him again, “She's not one.”
He spoke quietly, “If you say so.”

What passed after that was a quiet, tense silence. I hadn't even spared Nicole a glance during this encounter because I didn't want to look into her fear filled eyes. I would never be sure what was going through her mind when she was listening to this conversation. Knowing what I know now, she was probably feverishly constructing a fantasy so she didn't have to deal with meeting Thomas Little again.

“Do...” he spoke quietly, even quieter than normal, “Do you think...” he paused. He was looking for words, or trying to phrase this question, “Do you think, that one day... one day you could find it,” he paused, “Somewhere, anywhere inside you, to make a little Little one of these days?”
I stepped into his face, so that our noses were almost touching. My eyes were flared and I wanted him to feel the hate in my answer drip off my words, I whispered, “I will never. I will never, NEVER give anybody your name. I'm an Ymous. Your name dies with you.” I jabbed his chest with my finger and turned away.

He looked down, and closed his eyes softly. I removed myself from his personal space. He didn't say anything else after that. I didn't care to look at him anymore and just dragged Nicole along behind me. I think she threw her eyes behind her once or twice. I'm not sure of the expression that was on her face. We left a sad and evil man to stand in that carpark. Alone. That was how I wanted him to feel for what he did all those years ago, even if my brain wouldn't let me remember it properly.

When we were outside I was still quiet, still storming off with Nicole as fast as I could. I could feel Nicole being worried next to me, and I tried to keep all of my raging thoughts to myself. She tugged at my arm gently, and I turned to look down into those splendid green orbs. She reached up to brush some hair behind my ear, and we stopped to just stare at eachother for a moment. It was a strange effect, looking deep into Nicole's eyes. I described them before as haunting and sad, but the truth was simply that she'd learned to speak with them over the years, and that she was just normally sad as a default. The eyes could express different emotions when she wanted, she'd used them on me when I was strangling her to calm me down, and she was using them on me right then. She brushed my cheek, and leaned against me softly. My rage left as quickly as it had come, when I was reminded that the only important thing, was being with the girl next to me.

It was a little Motel on the south side of Brisbane that we were heading to. I asked about condoms but Nicole told me she got checked by a doctor for viruses and that she'd long been infertile so it didn't matter. She told me that the rules for the night were 'No L-word, no forever and call me Nicole' and that she'd teach me everything I wanted to know. She was oddly quiet on the bus though, we didn't really talk for the rest of the trip. She just squeezed my hand and stared silently out the window at the lights flashing by. The bus trip actually gave me some time to think, some time to reflect in my own mind. I thought about everything that happened, Nikki, the piano, the chicken shed. I looked at the back of the curly red haired girl beside me and I couldn't help but smile a little to myself. It all came down to this. Unless the bus crashes or a herd of elephants stop us or China decides to nuke Australia, I was actually going to lose my virginity tonight, to the woman that I'd wanted to lose it to three years ago.

As we were walking to the motel, I was thinking that Nikki must not have felt the same way I did. I was just going to be another guy to her, another pebble on the side of the road. To me, Nikki was an amazing, vibrant and sexual creature that had a fun life of debauchery and sin that she reveled in. I was just some guy she thought was cute and someone she wanted to 'show the ropes' to. When I look back on it though and think about Nicole, this must have felt like the end of the longest journey she'd ever taken. Finally throwing the ring into the volcano.

We were outside the motel door before we spoke again. Nicole span on her heel and got up on her toes to give me a quick kiss. “Wait here,” she instructed. I did as she said and the door closed behind her back. Door three-two-seven. I remembered that number forever. It's funny, the little things you remember about your first time, a song playing in the background, the colour of the sheets. It's just little unimportant details that nobody cares about except for you, those little things that make it YOUR experience and YOUR special time. I leaned against the railing of the complex and looked out over the car-park. I heard the sound of Nicole turning the shower on behind me, the hiss of water hitting a bathtub. 'I guess she wants a shower' I thought to myself.

The door opened behind me and I turned around. Her skin still dry, curled red hair falling the same way over her shoulders, Nicole was wearing only a red bath towel. Without speaking, and looking very serious, she beckoned me inside. “Take off your clothes and come in,” she said once I was in the room, she disappeared into the bathroom. Rather unromantic. I wasn't even, well, hard! Was this really how she wanted me to remember having my first time? A mechanical 'Hi howdeedoo' then a 'thrust thrust finish'? It was actually somewhat practical for her not to rip my clothes of in a seduced passion though, the suit was a rental.

When I was finished undressing, I wrapped the matching red towel around my waist and opened the bathroom door. Steam was everywhere. The tiles were a sort of beige colour, the mirrors were all fogged up. The shower was a bathtub and shower combo, and the curtains had ducks on it. The thing in the room that captured my attention though, was the naked woman with Irish heritage that stood before me.

She'd washed off her makeup before I came in, so her face showed only the natural beauty she contained. Her shoulders were freckly, and her breasts had a small mark over her left nipple. I could only see her front at this stage, and what I saw I liked. She had an arm folded across her C-cup breasts, and her other one placed across her Venus mound. She was completely bare, and breathing slowly, cheeks flushed from the heat of the steam that rose from the shower.

“I thought about this for a long time,” she spoke, looking up to meet my eyes with hers. Nervous? She continued, “How do I make Anon's first time special?” She took a step away from the wall, not yet dropping her arms, “I thought, I've done everything. There's nothing that some guy hasn't suggested that I've already done three times, so some guy who's never had sex won't have anything new in his imagination.”
I shrugged softly, “It's okay, as long as it's with you.”
She shook her head, “I want this to be special for me too.” She looked away, “I want to remember little Anon and his music, and how he saved me from that mean guy. I want to remember...” she approached me, removing the hand from her pubic mound so that she could gently place her five fingers against my chest. She met my eyes, “I want to remember the boy I watched grow into a man.”
I nodded slowly and put my arms on her shoulders, “So what did you come up with?”
She took a step back from me, looking serious, “It might seem a little strange for me to say... but I wanted you to see me naked.” I think I frowned in confusion, but she continued before I could interrupt. Shrugging, she said, “It's not that hard. I mean, for a man to see my skin. I've flashed tits at school buses and shown pussy to random guys in clubs...” she looked at me deep in the eyes, “But nobody's really seen me naked before.”

Before I could ask what she was doing, Nicole turned around. She pulled her hair across her shoulder over her front, so that I could see her entire back. “It's shameful,” she spoke so softly I barely heard her. Her figure was quite nice, the pale skin and the freckles that ended just under her shoulder. That wasn't what I was looking at though. Across her back, Nicole had put a tattoo. She didn't have it at the beach, I definitely would have noticed it, so she must have done it in at some point before the formal. Just for me to see her, naked.

The tattoo was a diamond, but it was probably intended to be a crystal. A black outline of a diamond that stretched from her tailbone and up across the wings of her shoulder blades and ending under the nape of her neck. Inside the hollow crystal was text. Names and words all squished together in all sorts of different sizes and fonts to form a complete and incoherent jumble. Freddy, Damian, Luke, Mr. Mattson, Julian... it went on and on and completely covered her back. After the names ran out, there were insults, slut, whore, dirty, prostitute, mole, cumdump... All insults written in a gothic pen with flowing lettering. To describe the tattoo properly, you have to think about all these words overlapping with each other, all interconnecting so that there was no space inbetween. It was like an M. C. Escher painting of all the darkness in her life, all encapsulated in a black crystal that covered her tiny, beautiful eighteen-year-old back. It was etched forever onto her flawless, pale skin. I realised after I saw the tattoo that her dress had been designed to cover it.

“You don't have to sleep with me,” she said softly, she was trembling slightly. “I just... wanted you to know who I was... before you did.” She turned her head, so she could meet my eyes, “This ink will never wash out... no matter how hard you scrub, or how clean you try to make me. This tattoo is who I am.”
I rested my hands on her shoulders gently. I really wasn't sure how the tattoo made me feel. Of course, I knew even when she was fifteen that she was the kind of girl who ate dicks for breakfast, but it was different being confronted with it in this way. I leaned across her to kiss her cheek softly, and then held her tiny naked body and pressed it against my chest.

Even though all those names and words were inked onto her back, I was the first guy who'd ever seen it. She must have trusted me a lot more than I realised, because I'm not sure how many guys would see a tattoo like that and still accept the woman into their bed. Looking back on it though Nicole really had nothing to lose, I was either going to sleep with her and she'd die, or I wasn't and she'd die. I guess she really did want this moment to be special, she really did want this to be the night where for the first time, she presented and was accepted as who she really was: Nicole Fisher.

I didn't try to argue with her about the tattoo. I remembered that she told me that she hated pretty lies. Nicole really felt that this tattoo was who she was and I wasn't able to argue. I turned her around, and leaned down to kiss her. Her head tilted to accept, and soon I felt both her arms lock across my back. When we broke, I was able to give my response, “I think...” I was trying to put it right, “Everyone has a little ink on their back. Not losing my virginity just because you have a new tattoo doesn't make sense. So let's have fun.”

She smiled sweetly and pulled me down into a kiss. Nicole didn't grin from ear to ear like her sister did, but when she grinned her face really expressed total joy. Grabbing my wrist, she pulled me immediately into the bathtub, and the hot water pelting down. I guess we were still going to have a shower anyway. I was sweaty from dancing after all.

The hot water stung my skin, the only other sensation was the feeling of Nicole's breasts pressed against me. The water pressed her hair against her skin, and it stuck to her pale, soft shoulders as if glued there. One lock of curled hair went down and covered her supple breasts. She kissed me while she lathered the bodywash in her hands, and then ran her soapy hands over the contours of my body. I closed my eyes while she worked, enjoying the hot water pelting my skin.

The sensation of being washed by a woman, I would describe it to those who haven't experienced it as a distinct feeling of dominance. It's like the hands that she uses are there and exist just to clean you. It's a naturally servile gesture, a girl being on her knees and running her hands up your thigh to make sure you're clean, but it's not like a master and servant relationship existed between us. I know this, because when I washed her I didn't feel like I was serving her when I ran my hands across her breasts, or touched her pubic mound gently with nervous fingers. It was exploratory, a statement of 'here is my body, touch it as you will', a silent message that passed between us with every stroke and soft kiss.

While I admit I felt dominant with respect to her as she knelt and rubbed soap along the erection she enticed out of me, I felt at the same time that she was still in complete control of her will. When I reciprocated by washing her breasts and cleaning inside her vagina with my fingers the feeling of dominance was replaced by a feeling of giving. She gave her body to me as I gave mine to her. She washed me because she loved me. She wanted to touch my body in every place and make sure it was clean. She peeled back my foreskin and cleaned the knob with her tongue without complaint. She wasn't serving me when she washed me, she was simply washing me so that I'd be clean for her.

I pressed her soap covered body against the wall and we shared a wet kiss. Tongues lapping and soapy breasts massaging my chest. When service goes both ways, then it's hard to call one partner dominant and the other partner submissive. I wasn't there to feel like a symbol of male conquest over the female form, I was there to feel a connection with a woman I loved. I traced my fingers down along her tattooed back, and pressed my erection against her thigh. I lifted her body, and her leg wrapped around me while we kissed.

Her body was mine to lift and ply, her breasts were mine to squeeze and suck, her legs were mine to open and fuck. Even though her body totally belonged to me, and she wanted me to enjoy it, I didn't feel like it was a statement of masculinity to lift her off her feet and pull gently at her hair. It wasn't about me being dominant or her being submissive because this was what we both wanted. She moaned to encourage me, and grinded her bare body against mine to tell me how much she wanted more. There was no real power relationship in that steaming shower with our genitalia excited and our bodies pressing and connecting with eachother... just sex. Something we'd both been aching for for a very long time.

She reached down, her legs were wrapped around my waist so she was reaching under her body, and stroked gently over my soap-covered shaft. “I like it...” she purred into my ear.
I smiled bashfully, “How did you know what I was thinking?” our eyes were flicking over each other's faces.
She shrugged, “Guys always wonder...” she kissed me softly, “Yours is nice.”
“You're not just saying that are you?” I was self conscious. First time after all.
Nicole giggled, “Size and shape doesn't matter so much...” she tilted her head and thought for a second, “Within reason of course. If you were a horse you'd probably break something.”
I snickered and kissed her, moving the kiss down to her neck and biting softly, “So what does matter? If you're the expert...”
I'm pretty sure she smiled, closing her eyes to enjoy me biting her neck, “As the expert,” she said laughing softly, “I'd say all that matters to me is that you have fun.”
I looked at her seriously, “What about orgasm?”
She shrugged, “I can't. Not everybody can. I've known guys who can't orgasm either, even though that's less common. Being good at sex isn't all about orgasms and thrusting, no matter how much porn makes it out to be.”
I was still a little confused at this point, so I shifted my weight to let her down, “So what is being good at sex?” I pursed my lips thoughtfully, “I mean, some sex is better than others, right?”
Nicole giggled, and pressed her body against mine to kiss me again, “Of course! Some guys are terrible.” She smiled sweetly, “Don't worry Anon, we started having good sex the second we entered this shower.” She kissed me again and reached behind me to turn the head off.

With our bodies rinsed, we stepped out into the steaming room and grabbed the towels to dry off. I dried Nicole's back by patting it gently, and looked over the tattoo again. So many words and names, etched onto her soul forever. She said it would never wash off, and it didn't. I kissed the back of her neck. “Why did you do this?” I asked softly, “I mean, I really appreciate it, but I don't think the next guy...”
Her hand reached behind her to stroke my cheek, “There won't be a next guy, Anon.” She turned around to hug me, “I'm going to settle down. I don't like this tattoo, I'm sick of these guys, and all these names. I want your name to be the last one I get...” she pressed her hand against her chest, “...here.”
I frowned, “But what about a husband... kids...”
She giggled and shook her head, “I'm infertile, idiot.” She shrugged and turned her head, “I might adopt one day.”
“Fair enough then.”

When our bodies were sufficiently dry, Nicole grabbed my wrist and guided me out of the bathroom and over to the bed. There was a small gesture at this time that's always stuck with me in this moment. Nicole pulling me to the bed, her wet curls flicking water everywhere when she whipped her head around to look at me for just a second. The impression was really like a nymph guiding me to her secret place; like two children running through a grassy meadow together and one whipping their head around quickly to make sure the other is alright. I didn't think of it at the time, but it was like some of my first sexual fantasies with Nicole coming true; her as a fairy in her birthday suit guiding me to make love in the soft and loamy grass. Now if only she'd wear skin-tight lycra and bust in through the window, that would be perfect.

She laid back with me over her, and we stared into each other's eyes for a spell. Our faces pressed together and our lips met in a kiss. Laying over a girl and kissing her is nice. I figured at the time that things would feel a bit squishy for the girl, with my heavier body compressing her, but Dee described the feeling of having a man on her as 'comforting' later so I don't really think about it anymore. I was propped on my elbows anyway, so my full weight wasn't really on her.

Nicole was alternating between guiding her fingers over my chest, and wrapping around to gently scratch down my back. My erection was hanging down between my legs, and I could feel it spreading its scent across her pubic hair. We were grinding. Grinding, the sensation of want, it's got a unique pressure to it that you don't really feel with the other aspects of sex. There's no direct stimulation, but any slip up between you or her and you know that your bodies will connect in the primal bond that links men and women. The desire for sex is overflowing at the grinding stage, there's no longer room for reconsideration. The boner is painful, the cunt gushes and wets her inner thigh. The bodies that our minds are contained in are going wild, animalistic. We can have sex at any time, and the only reason we don't is because we want to drink every sensation that our bodies are offering to eachother.

Nicole pushed against my chest, and I rolled off her. Sitting up, she reached over to the nightstand to grab some KY. She clicked it open and spread it over her hands while she looked at me, I frowned softly, “How come the lube?”
“I have a medical condition,” she explained easily, “My body doesn't lubricate properly. Dries up almost immediately after penetration.” She lay next to me and kissed my cheek, while she pumped my hard cock to lubricate it, “If you fuck me dry with a cucumber like this I'll fall to pieces.”
I shit you not I almost busted my first nut hard in that hand. Dee had given me a lubricated handjob as well, which I imagined to be Nikki giving me a blowjob, but it was nothing like the way Nicole gingerly stroked every inch of my cock.

There's no substitute for experience. Nicole was better at this than Dee. Dee had pumped it furiously, she'd learned how to do it from watching porn. She gripped hard and just went for broke like what she saw. Nicole on the other hand was incredibly slow with the way she stroked it. Her soft hands behaved as if they were moulding clay, and most importantly: I could watch. Men are very visual with sex, and being able to watch while Nicole drew her fingers up along the shaft was incredibly sexy. She'd squeeze it at intervals, peel back the foreskin and tickle the glans. She'd cup my testicles and lick my ear gently, “I can't wait for you to empty these in me.” She wanted to tickle my spine with the tingles she gave me, she wanted to entice my cock into its full and utmost length. Everything about what she did was about getting the blood of my body where it needed to be, to make my dick hard, harder than it ever would be and harder than I ever thought it could be. A handjob isn't the end of sex. It shouldn't feel like a moist pussy wrapping around your cock. A handjob is the promise that the pussy is coming; the idea that while this feels good, the waiting cunt she has will be even better.

Nicole propped herself up on her elbow, and pushed her hair behind her shoulder, “So, stud,” she said with a kiss, “Top or bottom?”
I looked at her and felt myself grin. I lunged at her, tickling her ribs to make her laugh. She screamed in laughter and wriggled. I growled and behaved like an animal for fun while we wrestled. She play-acted and pushed against me, but I bit her neck to make her moan. I tugged at her hair to show her I was boss, and she cooed to let me know that she didn't need to be told. Shortly, my body was over hers again, and she was pressing her naked body desperately against mine. Horny. I traced the contour of her body while she waited, containing her lust in the soft moaning noises she was making. Her soft, pale skin that tingled with goosebumps, her nipples standing erect on those delicious mouthfuls she had for breasts. Every writhe and wriggle she made was with the full intention of bringing my cock into her waiting sheath.

“Trade secret...” she winked at me, and reached over her head to grab her pillow. Without me getting off her, she put the pillow underneath her butt to lift her hips for the right angle to penetrate. We were both breathing heavy, and her hand was gripping my cock which was hard like titanium, adamantium, deuterinium and any other goddamn metal that ends in -inium I would care to compare it to. I pressed my hips forward, her hands holding my cock so sweetly. Her trembling voice matching the little shakes I could see her body making, “Your first and my last, Anon.” Her eyes met mine and I remember just staring into those lovely green eyes. I could get lost in them without trying. “Are you ready?”
I answered her by kissing, and pressing my hips forwards. Finally! I could thrust forth into a waiting cunt and feel the delicious sensation of a vagina!!

I was half expecting, or I wanted rather, for the roof to open up at that point and a great beam of light to shine down on us while a chorus of angels sang “Hallelujah!!” but the truth was that Nicole and I just moaned. I'm assuming, that if you're reading a story about a man losing his virginity, that you're either a man who's curious about sex, or a person who wants a recently-former virgin's impression of sex, so that's how I'll frame it. I'll try to describe the emotions first, and then go back to the physicality.

There are a lot of classic metaphors for sex. Waves lapping against a beach with the water slowly swelling, a train zooming through a tunnel, a rocket shuddering as it launches itself with all of its immense power into the forbidden depths of space. Of all the metaphors and similies I could use, and have been used to describe sex, I think the one I'll pick is Space Oddity. If you need to listen to it just youtube the thing. There's a surreality to sex that's really hard to describe. You have to realise that the person under (or over) you is another person. That's self evident of course, but during sex you can feel their heart beating with yours. That mass of cells, organs, those veins that carry the blood, the little neural signals that make their eyes move and fingers stroke you tenderly. Everything about that other being is a person just like you, and they want to be there just like you do. Sex with another person is a full frontal realisation that we aren't truly alone in this world, that there are people just like us.

So why Space Oddity? Well, think about the astronaut. He's just flung himself into space, everybody's watching him. He goes through all the mechanics, does everything right, does all the checks, and then the build starts with the line “...detach from station and may God's love be with you”. It doesn't matter how much we prepare ourselves for sex, it doesn't matter how much we research or read up on it. It'll just happen. Whatever happens while you have sex will just happen and none of us have any true control. When you're at the back, your pubic bones pressed together and your cock is sunk in as far as it will go, it's just all up to God. Maybe you'll both have fun, maybe it'll suck. It doesn't really matter as long as you're with a person that you want to be with. Nicole was right, whether you have a cock of titans that makes women kill eachother for the orgasms they dispense, or you're a Pee Wee Herman, the woman you're with doesn't care. She just wants to fly with you into space and have fun and be with you. As long as she can, she wants to feel that connection with another person, she wants to feel like there's another living being with her and that she doesn't have to be in a world full of faceless people and fake friends who don't care. Sex is being alone in space like Major Tom, but not feeling lonely because of the person holding you, because ground control is always on the radio guiding you through, as if it was right next to you the whole time.

“Too fast,” she whispered softly, instructing me, “Start slow, build the pleasure. Tease.”
Well that wasn't hard. I guess I was a little zealous for my first time. My cock slipped through Nicole's vagina as if they were built for eachother. I mean, I guess they were. It's not like we're NOT meant to have sex, so it's natural to feel like the woman's privates are built for the man's. The strokes were slow and soft. I honestly thought in the back of my mind that it'd feel rather loose, because of Nicole's history, but like I said before nothing beats experience. Her cunt was skilled, and did something I've never felt since. Whenever I pulled back, I felt it sucking me back in. Her pelvic floor was so strong and well trained that she did it without thinking; rhythmically tightening her entire cunt to suckle at my cock gently while I fucked her.

She closed her eyes to surrender to the pleasure, and I kissed her. The other thing about sex that I didn't really mention while talking about Space Oddity, it feels damn good. I don't exactly want to oversell it, because if you haven't done it before then I think there's way too much expectation placed on how it physically feels. But it feels damn good. It's that tingling sensation that you get while masturbating that you feel. You can feel your heart jumping out of your chest, and you're treated to the sound of the girl your with moaning softly. Every little gasp and breath is important, to describe one and leave the others out is unfair. Nicole pressed her hand against my chest and writhed, pressing her body eagerly and wantonly onto my dick.

She scratched me down the back. Her body was screaming 'FUCK ME!' but I kept the slow rhythm to torment her and watched her in sweet agony. “Doooon't~” she moaned and pressed her head back into the pillow, she threw her cheek to the side and flinched, “Daddy, please...” she whispered. I think I got a little freaked at that and pulled out to look at her. Nicole whipped her head to look at me with surprise written on her face. As she panted to calm down, she stroked my hair softly, “Sorry...” she said, looking sheepish, “That doesn't normally happen.”
“Are you okay?”
She nodded and took a deep breath, “I was actually enjoying it...” she ran her hand against my cheek, “I say some fucked up shit sometimes,” she reached up to kiss me, “I'll try not to talk. Just ignore whatever I say.”

We started again. She gasped as I entered, and her body writhed when I was hilted. Nicole breathed out a moan and wriggled her hips slowly, I started moving in the slow rhythm again. “No, that's not right,” she said softly. “You should fuck me now...” I tilted my head, but I started to move my hips harder. Nicole bit her lip and her body bounced with the force of my thrusting, she collected herself, to talk and think about what she wanted to say, “Thrust... hah... to a rhythm.” She squeezed out a long moan, her body twitching all over, “One-two-three-four... ahn... think music.” And so I did. I started playing a song in my head that was easy to keep to. Thinking about music and distracting myself with counting actually took away a little from the rising tension I could feel in my body, but I could also tell immediately why I should be doing it.

As Nicole fell into the rhythm, her body started to thrash more. She'd meet me with trembling kisses as my tempo naturally increased. With the pillow raising her hips, we were at a perfect angle to fuck hard and comfortably. I felt like any of my thrusts could be the one to push me over the top. I felt a primal urge to impregnate her rising in me. Her clenching cunt was inviting me with every squeeze. 'Dump it' her body told me, 'Fertilise me'. I didn't need to be told, I started moving with the rising passion, and thrust my cock harder and deeper as I went. I'd alternate the rhythm now and then to build her small climaxes, change the angle of penetration to surprise her, and stay buried in her balls deep so that her body could enjoy the size and shape of the cock fucking her.

“Daddy! Daddy!” She started moaning it. She'd lost control of her mouth again. Maybe she wanted to roleplay? I didn't know. I bit her neck and kept thrusting hard and deep. I could feel fatigue setting in and I desperately wanted to reach the peak and cum in my first woman before I stopped. There's a lot less romance at this stage of sex. At some point it moves from a surreal experience to being all about just a hard dick and a wet cunt sliding together. The anatomy comes together with one desperate purpose: making babies. Nicole's entire being at that moment was centered around the goal of me cumming inside her, her body wanted it, her brain wanted it. At some point sex moves from an expression of closeness to a desperate urge to breed. That's how you know you're at the tip of the rising action.

I probably don't have to tell you what it feels like to want to impregnate a woman, but I will anyway. At this point, I think Nicole's legs and arms were both wrapped around me, and I was enjoying her body desperately trying to cum while she was crying and screaming 'Daddy stop please' over and over again. Sex had come full circle and was now only about the climax. The grand ideals of romance and togetherness were out the window and I was trying my damnedest to get the cum out of my testicles and into the womb of the woman I was fucking. Imagery flashed in my head of those old science tapes everyone's seen, a brave little sperm going into an egg.

It was hard to concentrate with Nicole screaming her pain, but she'd told me to ignore it, and it wasn't me who she was telling to stop so I kept going. Every now and then Nicole's body would tense and writhe in pleasure to let me know that it was indeed pleasure she was experiencing and her mouth was just running. I hoped to God it wasn't some horrible flashback, but that still wasn't at the forefront of my mind. Her cunt was twitching, my artificially lubricated dick was absolutely hammering. One overriding thought was present in my brain as I approached the climax. Make. A. Baby! It didn't matter to me that her body was infertile, the only thing I wanted to do was empty my balls and have her young, supple body accept my cum. I gritted my teeth and lifted my body, pinning her there by the shoulders. She was going to stop her bullshit and take my seed. Her panting, tear soaked face looked up into mine. I didn't care at that point. I didn't care about her issues or what she was going through. All I wanted, the one thing I wanted for my beautiful Nicole was for her to take my cum and make a child with it, one with red hair and my eyes.

Her lip trembled, and I lost control of the thrusting. The penis grows slightly when it ejaculates. I'm not sure if a woman can feel that or not, but Nicole certainly reacted as if she could. Her head tilted back, and her eyelids trembled and flickered. She'd already told me she couldn't experience an orgasm, so I knew that's not what it was. Some sort of acting or faking, but it still seemed like some sort of pleasure climax. Maybe she felt the energy from my own orgasm, or her body wanted to enhance my experience. It didn't really matter. “Anoooon~” the long moan of my name and the feeling of her hands wrapping around me and squeezing my body, as if you'd squeeze a toothpaste tube to get the last few drops out, she wanted every drop of my cum inside her. Legs wrapped around my hips helped the complete squeezing feeling. She wanted to make sure that my cock stayed in, plugging her, keeping the cum pushed right up against the wall of the cervix and swimming up inside the womb eagerly.

You can't describe an orgasm. There's not really any experience to compare it to. An orgasm is an orgasm. I believe there's actually a unique word to describe the concept of an orgasm in every human language. That says something about the feeling. It's a unique and important feeling to our existence; the orgasm. If you want it, just touch your genitals for a bit while you look at some porn and you'll find it. Physically that's what an orgasm and cumming feels like. Cum leaves your body and goes off on its merry way, and you're left with an overall tingling sensation and a total sense of immense pleasure.

If I had to describe cumming inside a woman and completing my deflowering, well that's a little different. Cumming inside a woman, I would use the word 'complete'. It's a feeling you really only get from being inside and having her body underneath yours. You think about things like how beautiful she looks, and comprehend everything you've both just been through. You both just had sex. You both expressed to each other your joint longing for the other's body. You were just closer with a person than you've ever been in your entire life and it felt good. You kiss her tenderly, probably half to apologise for some of the things that raced through your head while you were fucking her, but mostly just to kiss her.

I stayed inside her, and rested my body over hers again. She just smiled and held me. “That was good,” she whispered softly, settling her body. She didn't need to say it with her words, ninety percent of human communication is non-verbal, and her whole body was already raving about the sex. Her body was hot and sweating, her hair was haggard and everywhere, she trembled with a squeak whenever I twitched my cock in her. Having done its business, my cock settled itself slowly, and I drew it out.

Our naked bodies pressed against each other on the sheets after we were disconnected. We shifted underneath the covers, and Nicole reached over to turn off the light. One of the things about sex, is that it's fairly exhausting. We were only exercising for about maybe twenty to thirty minutes, but we were worn. It wasn't long before I was holding her precious form and drifting comfortably in and out of sleep in a post-orgasm blissful haze. And thus my first time was complete, and I was no longer a virgin. I was glad during the sex that I'd chosen Nicole for the experience, or that fate had chosen her. If I'd lost it to Dee I'm sure the whole thing would have just been painful for her and sucked. I didn't know what to do, how to thrust, how quick to go or anything about foreplay. How could I? Not like it's taught in school. Having someone experienced for your first time is definitely the best way to go, she gave me some really good feedback, and held my hand through the whole thing.

I woke up to the sensation of sunlight on my face. As my consciousness flickered in and out, I felt around with my hand. Nicole was gone. I lifted up my body, blinking in the morning light and looking around dazed. Where was she? The bed was empty except for me, she'd gone like a dream. I got up and looked around the room, her clothes were gone, nobody in the shower. My attention was drawn eventually to a small note left on the dresser. It was written in pink pen, with a lipstick kiss in the corner, 'Hey stud! B- at best sweety. Make sure you practice on lots of cute blonds in uni! xoxo!' I smirked and flipped the note over in my hand. Sitting down on the bed, the radio alarm came on at the same time while I read the message on the other side, it was written in purple 'Anon. Well what can I say? For that to be my last time, I'm so glad it was with you. You already know I'll love you forever, and I'll treasure that precious memory I've had of you and your piano until the day I die.'

Two messages, both in Nicole's handwriting but written in different pen. I sat there, turning the paper over in my hand over and over again. I tried to work out what it meant. I recognised those sides of her, the sexual vixen that first seduced me, and that sweet girl that I fell in love with. I looked out the window at the tops of the trees and thought about it. The paper was like a true metaphor for Nicole Fisher, two sides to a single coin.

And... over the radio? The lyrics filled the air:

Boom boom acka lacka lacka boom!
Boom boom acka lacka boom boom
It was a night like this! Forty million years ago
I lit a cigarette, picked up a monkey, start to go
The sun was spitting fire, the sky was blue as ice
I felt a little tired, so I watched 'Miami Vice'

I walked the diiiiinosaaaauuuur! I walked the diiiinosaaauuuuur~~

Open the door, get on the floor
Everybody walk the dinosaur
Open the door, get on the floor
Everybody walk the dinosaur

Fin.

>>20256

Well you were WRONG son.

Epilogue is still to come dudes, so stay tuned.

>>20248
Actually yes I would, there are at least like 10 stories I have read on here that if I had the money I would just throw at the authors to finish. You know like strippers on a stripper pole? Except 100 dollars bills. Too bad I don't have the money.

>>20258
lol you fuck! cant wait for the epilogue!

You have serious talent man. If this is ever published, I will be first in line to get a copy. Personally, I like reading nikki's story after the rest. It makes more sense in my head to reveal her full story after yours. I guess it's the clarity it provides for her actions. That's just me, though, keep doing your thing. You've continually impressed me with each chapter.

I awoke to the sound of clattering plates. Dreams fading immediately, I stayed in bed for a little just to listen to it. I thought about things in that bed sometimes, what was here, what happened in this room and what could have been. I dispel the thoughts as I get up and pull on my boxer briefs. Heading downstairs to the source of the clattering noise, I see what I already suspected the noise to be. Dee humming quietly while she washed the dishes.

She always did that the morning after sex. Cleaning. It's like some instinct takes over her and she decides to go do something, or feels energised to fix something up. I'm quite the opposite, after sex I just think about having more sex with her. We were probably about twenty-one at this stage, four years since the events of high-school. She'd forgiven me in her roundabout way in second year, we spoke again in a cafe, and I was understandably horrified when Dee told me about the conversation she'd had with Nikki. Dee was equally understandably horrified when I showed her the note Nicole/Nikki had left me.

That was two years ago though, we'd both dated some people, ended up fucking, broke up, fucked again at new years. It was a strange relationship I had with Deborah Lang. We were about to break up a few months from the scene I'm describing but neither of us knew it yet. Or we did, we just didn't care. We seemed to hate each other's guts and get along like best friends at the same time... in fact I can prove it. I snuck up behind her that morning and swatted her butt while she cleaned the dishes. She was only wearing my t-shirt and some panties, so I felt like it.

“Pig,” she spat at me.
“You love it,” I smiled back.
“Fuck you.” She was a lot easier with her tongue after she tried pot.
“That's your job.” I saw her shoulders shake softly while she giggled.

I reached around her and drew her into a kiss, “I'm... mmf... I'm wash-” she giggled when I started tickling her, then she kicked me hard in the shin, “I'm washing the fucking dishes, rack off.”
“I'll dry.” I said it to apologise. My shin smarted, but I pretended it didn't hurt. Dee was a girl you really had to read the mood off. There was a playful 'no' that meant I could get away with teasing her more, and there was a strict 'I'll fucking kill you' no that meant you had to do something to make up for it. It's what a lot of her boyfriends sort of failed at, reading the mood. I think Dee's current fiance has a good knack for it, I hear he likes sushi too... lucky bastard.

We washed the dishes in silence for a spell, me mostly naked and her half naked. I was busy drying a plate when she said “You should put a shirt on, Jousuke will be up soon.”
“Jousuke's at mums.”
Dee spun on her heels and looked at me with her jaw open, “Well he didn't tell me!!”
I shook my head, “You're not his mother.”
Dee hated that line, I immediately regretted saying it. She glared at me, “Well /his mother/ is busy fucking off to Japan! What the fuck am I supposed to do?!”
I knew that tone. I put the plate down and put my hands on her shoulders, I knew exactly how this script went down, 'Don't try to calm me down'
“Don't try to calm me down!!”
And then 'I'll get mad if I bloody well please'
“I'll get mad if I bloody well please!”
Followed by 'Jousuke should focus on his fucking studies, it's his last year of school, how's he going to get a job at this rate?!'
Well... let's just say I was right about that too. Dee stopped ranting after about five minutes and I kissed her when it was over. Sometimes she just had to blow her top to let off some steam. She really was like a little Japanese kettle sometimes.

Jousuke and Tommy were still close friends at this point. As far as I know they still are. Despite his sister's efforts... or maybe to spite his sister's efforts he ended up competing in a national Tekken league. I think he came fifth or something, Tommy was pretty devastated. Tommy ended up putting his people skills to good use and became a salesman. Pretty good one too if what he tells me is accurate.

“You know the day?” I asked Dee, we were chatting over cereal.
“Yeah...” she said quietly, “You wanna pack lunch?”
I shook my head, “We'll get something while we're out.”

Mum and Ron are still friends. Mum never really moved in with Freddy, so I guess that sort of stayed complicated. Ron still talks to me from time to time about love, life and all the rest. Don't see him as often though since I moved out. Last I spoke to him he'd taken a trip around Queensland and decided to head out country. He's probably living on some ridiculously idyllic mountain home, painting it over and over and listening to Neil Diamond while he works. He always liked the mountains.

The car trip with Dee was quiet. We both knew each other better than to talk. There wasn't much to say anyway, considering where we were going. I looked out at the rushing scenery and just sort of... I don't know, looked at it. Dee was driving, I didn't like driving on December eighth.

Not much to say about my school friends or Smiddy. Mr. Smith is still a teacher, The Goose is still a boring old fuck. Most of my school friends took honest jobs or went to uni. My sister actually did end up fulfilling her dream of being a policewoman. She met her husband on the job, he was fixing a machine at a cafe that got robbed.

Dee pulled up to the cemetery, and we stepped out. We made our way across the grounds slowly. I didn't really want to be here, I don't think Dee did either. Every December eighth though we'd force ourselves to confront that person that drew the two of us together. That common bond of shared history that made us never really hate eachother. The one thing that could remind us what was more important than pride, love or anything else in our trivial, small lives.

As for Lao Nuk? Well he retired eventually. I quit boxing around the same time. Never had an actual fight in the end, didn't really have the stomach for it truth be told. I started out by studying rocketry in university but I didn't really like it much, so I switched majors a few times and ended up in Astronomy. So there you go Nikki, you ended up fucking an astronomer instead of a rocket scientist, but I did my best. As for relationships after Nikki? Well, I took her advice. Fucked some blonds, dated a Japanese girl on and off and had some fun. I'm currently recruiting a wife I guess, but it doesn't feel that important to me. I'm still young.

We ended up in front of her grave. Here lies Nicole Fisher, etc. There's no real epitaph, no statement saying that she was a beloved daughter or a respected mother. Just a simple piece of carved stone to state that she ever lived at all, and that she died at the tender age of nineteen. The coroner never even worked out when she died properly. They found her carcass after it was all destroyed and picked apart by carrion birds. And so she died as she lived, feeling unloved and alone. It fucks me over to think about her last night on Earth, what she must have thought about, who she cared about, what she remembered. I think about my one and only time with her now and then, I think about the soothing music I was listening to in my head while she was screaming 'No! Daddy stop! Please just stop!' and wailing. It's a haunting sound.

Dee and I don't try to guess the exact date she took her own life, because we both already know when Nicole Fisher was killed, and that's the anniversary we remember her. December eighth 1994. The day her father killed her by raping his own eight year old daughter. Eight fucking years. She should've been playing with fucking barbies and wearing pretty dresses, but she was too fucking busy getting raped. I cry at the grave, and Dee puts her hand on my shoulder, she's probably crying too.

And so we come to the end of our story, at a lonely grave that nobody cares about. But to me this isn't the same story as what most people read. It's not a story about sex and depravity, or how I lost my virginity, it's not even a story about the horrors of child abuse and the long twist of the knife. Early this year, Thomas Little died. He was also unloved and will soon be forgotten. For what it's worth, he actually did redeem himself somewhat in my eyes by going to jail and dying there. He wound up in prison in July the year after Nikki and I were together. He went on a spree killing and murdered five people.

In amongst Thomas Little's personal effects, was you. You just don't make any fucking sense. I look at your picture every fucking night and ask myself 'how'. I've looked for you, looked for you everywhere but for the life of me, no matter what I do or how much research I put in I just can't fucking find you. I've run myself ragged, I've run Dee ragged too. But you exist. The proof is right here in my fucking hands in this photo. My eyes, your mother's hair.

This story isn't about Nikki, Dee or even me. This story, this whole sordid fucking tale that I just want to forget and bury, it's all here in the vague hope that you might read it one day. Because there's one thing that Nikki taught me, one thing that Thomas Little, Ron and even Dee taught me. One single fucking lesson in all of this that I took home, and that you can take home too. A boy needs his father. A boy needs his father to grow, and to learn, and to emulate. A loving father can be the difference between a guy who grows up to be an astronomer, and a girl who winds up dead and unloved at nineteen.

I couldn't find you, son. I looked into every orphanage, every adoption agency and every other fucking place I could think of. I couldn't find you. But maybe, if you read this, you can find me. I think I've left enough clues. I'm tired of being your anonymous father.

>>20266
>I couldn't find you, son. I looked into every orphanage, every adoption agency and every other fucking place I could think of. I couldn't find you. But maybe, if you read this, you can find me. I think I've left enough clues. I'm tired of being your anonymous father.

Did I miss something? Is it like a metaphorical son or something else?

>>20257
"came here for a fap, found an interesting story"
haven't yet read the final part, but first wanted to thank you for this nice story, and to comment a bit about Creative Commons. To the extend of my knowledge, publishing your work in CC should not prevent you to propose a more complete version for sale. My guess would be that an editor probably don't care that much about the CC bit, and more about the fact that it's already readable for free on the internets. Except that we can see this fact doesn't prevent web comic from going paper, and selling well. So, all in all, you might have your chances.
(obviously, IANAL)

No, Nicole managed to conceive before she died. I assume Thomas Little knew about her being pregnant, seeing as how he managed to watch them without being noticed quite often. Anon was supposedly the father, though I could be wrong. Could have been Thomas himself, but that would make it anon's brother. The way I read it, anon impregnated her when he lost his virginity (thus that whole huge rant about the purpose of sex being impregnation at a point) and then she disappeared, living just long enough to give birth. I'm guessing Thomas Little watched over his grandson until he was imprisoned. Somehow he wound up with a picture of him, too.

This is one of the best story i have read in a while. I didn't expect this to be as good as it is when i started reading it. i would definitely buy this if it was in book form.

>>20270
>The proof is right here in my fucking hands in this photo. My eyes, your mother's hair.

Oh. I missed that part. Thanks.

Well, ya finished it.

Author here: I don't want to spoil the mystery, I just wanted to mention that I did actually add a line to one of the last lines: But you exist. The proof is right here in my fucking hands in this photo. Nikki's third miracle. I thought again about how she looked when I came inside her, thinking about you. My eyes, your mother's hair.

There IS a series of events in my head that exist for the ending to make sense, but it's one of those reader mystery things, so enjoy it :)

>>20269

So I took a couple of days to think about your post. I had to examine my real feelings about CC and saleability and stuff.

Basically, I realised that my fear of reducing the saleability of the work by this becoming widely distributed is the pinnacle of stupid and irrational. The truth is, if I want a publisher to take note of the manuscript, then what I WANT is for this story to be put up all over the internet. Free advertising.

That being said, I realised at the same time that 90-100% of the reason I actually do NOT want this distributed, and the reason I'm keeping the distribution rights, is because I love this story. You guys think YOU had feels, when Nikki told me about what she went through (she told me the climax of the story after I wrote chapter 2) I cried myself to fucking sleep thinking about it. I couldn't get the images out of my head of her as a little girl being chained up and urinated on and her just crying in a dark room alone. So I wrote it, I put my whole life on hold and poured it out as hard as I could. AS you can see, I even wrote a book about it.

I really love this story. I want everyone to read it. I want every single person to sit down with this text and absorb the story it contains. But what I REALLY want most of all is for them to read the ULTIMATE form of the story. THAT is why I don't want this distributed. I look at parts of this draft and I get annoyed at my own lack of ability. It needs editing, it needs consistent voice, it needs to be gone through carefully and rewritten and moulded line by line until it's perfect. Because when people read Nikki's story, I want them to experience a complete and professionally presented manuscript that is compelling, emotional and real. I even want art with it, for covers, for scenes where words aren't enough. I don't want them to read a rambling, stream of consciousness draft that isn't even formatted properly.

When the story is finished, I'll throw it at the internet myself. Every fucking site I can manage. Hell I'll make a site FOR it and put it there as well. Until then, I want this draft to just stay here on 7chan, because the story's not being told properly yet. It's not yet presented the way I want to present it, so I don't want to present it to anyone else until it's ready.

I'll put up a pdf of the first draft that you guys can print and save on the weekend. :)

Great story op!

This had so many twists and turns, it was great.

>>20281
Just curious, How much of this story is true?

Aight, this will be my last post in this thread. Here's a pdf version of everything in this thread (so, the first draft), formatted a little better and ready for printing.

http://www.mediafire.com/view/h5cv4unrzxbj0wc/nanowrimo.txt.pdf

>>20285

The characters are composits (Dee is like... 6 people?) and the situations are fantasy, most conversations are more or less real or only conjiggered to fit the story.

Coincidentally, as per the name of the text, I realised I'd completed nanowrimo for the first year ever without meaning to. :P

Oh well, see you nigs in a few months after the editing's done

>>20325
The MediaFire link has your name in it. "nanowrimo.txt.pdf shared by (Not Anonymous).", unless that is a made up name you used.

>>20330

made up

Bump to save great story

>>20097

You know what, OP? Fuck you. I came here for a fap. Not a quick fap. I'd watch a porno if I wanted that. No, for an elit fap. With enough nosex and backstory so it gets a bit personal. So you get to know the characters behind the fucking. It's monday night and I have to get up in the morning,so no going out for the actual personal sex thing. But I'm sitting here, reading part 3, with my pants down and a flaccid cock in my hands. Reading the philosophy behind rape, about whores and pimps and shit. If I wanted serious literature I' read something that's better written and were the protagonist isn't called Anon Ymous. Still I pour myself a glass of bourbon and read on. Damn you.

tl;dr. Fuck you. Great story. Not high literature but easily the best story here. Not what I came for, but still made my night.

This is masterful. Absolutely masterful.

OP, I have lurked for years across the chans. That is not hyperbole. Your story gets my comment-virginity, appropriately. This story is more than what it appears to be, and if this is the rough version, I could see the final being a story that shakes the world.

I came here to cum. To fap. When the moment arrived? When the consummation happened? I couldn't. I couldn't do it. Because my goal had changed. I had to keep reading this damned, wonderful story.

If you visit this thread again, OP: thank you.

My eyes are using up all my bodily fluids. I can't fap to this.

I think I need a hug after reading this.

I'm not caught up yet, but in the few hours i've been sitting here reading this, the boy has turned into a fucking boss, and it didn't even seem forced. Good on ya op.

After all of the good parts of this story i have to stand up and pace a bit to calm down before i can carry on. Like another anon said, God-tier. Twilight for men even.

>>20281
Op, thank you. Seriously.

Well fuck. This nearly made me cry. I only hope to find a woman that loves me so much.

Fucking hell. I came for faps, four hours later and I cried like a bitch.

Fuck you, man. Now I can't fap.

oh, no no no. don't scroll off!

I've never actually read this, which makes me sad up to this point. It was a beautiful, tortured story. It had a lot of nice ups and downs (kind of like Book of Mike). I really liked it, even though its been years since it was posted. Thank you.

Not a fapfic but what a great story

Holy Shit, anon. I idly started reading this right before bed and stayed up half the night reading it. Awesome, if depressing, work.

holy fuck, what a read

personally didn't like the ending, but a good story nonetheless.

I wonder did the author ever realise his vision with this one?

Fucking good story

Fantasy and wicked imaginations.