so I sat on my bed and took several deep breaths, bringing myself more or less under control.
Eric Lockwood. Where had I heard the name before today? It sounded so familiar. If I was any of the other students at my school I would have just got on the internet and looked him up, but we were dirt poor, I’d have to wait until school the next day. If I went.
Oh my God… if I didn’t do something, this guy would be my step-dad… and he made me call him ‘daddy’ when he fucked me in the back of his car. Oh my God.
The thought brought an image to my mind of his huge cock in my hand as I stroked it, and I pushed it aside mentally with all the shame and indignation I could muster. I was disappointed that I couldn’t muster more … and that I had automatically licked my lips when I pictured the scene.
On the bed with me was a box, sealed with a pretty red ribbon. I frowned, not recognising it from any of the shopping done that afternoon, and tugged at the bow, which pulled apart with silky ease.
Pulling the top off I looked inside to see a school uniform for my school, with regulation-black shoes, all brand new. I thought back to all the teasing I’d endured over the years for my second-hand uniforms, all the wrong sizes and completely worn out because it was all we could afford.
My hand reached out to touch it, as if it was the most beautiful Cinderella-Ball-Dress I’d ever seen, but I snatched it back before I made contact.
“No. No, God dammit. You can’t buy me, Eric Lockwood.”
I shoved the box on to the floor.
*****
My alarm clock woke me up at 7am sharp, but I was far from ready to meet the day. Our apartment was small, the walls were thin, but I counted myself lucky to have my own room.
Until the age of thirteen I had shared with my Mom, and last night would have been beyond unbearable if that had still been the case. Twice I was woken by the sounds of my mom being ravaged every bit as hard as I had been the previous day, even with the pillow over my head blocking her squeals and his assurances that he was going to cum in her ass, I could still hear, feel , the thuds of the headboard against the wall.
The arrogance of the man, the sheer unabashed arrogance, was mind-boggling. How he could be so unconcerned with how I would react was beyond me. Surely he must know that I would be outraged.
After my shower, I pulled the crumpled heap of my old school uniform out of my backpack, where I had stashed it after my unexpected shopping spree the previous day. My heart sank when I looked at it. More than ever it looked like the threadbare, patched, second-hand junk that it was.
It’s not like my head was dunked in the toilet at school or I had the crap beaten out of me, but the popular girls made life hell, there was no two ways about it. I never knew if it was going to be a neutral day or a crappy day full of subtle or blatant insults, making fun of me, making fun of my mom, belittling my whole life.
The new uniform sitting in the tipped-over box at the foot of my bed was too little too late, such ‘finery’ would have no impact on my social standing at school, not with only a month to go in my entire high school career. But still… it would be nice to not be asked if I stole my shoes from a homeless person. My resolution to not wear anything he bought me crumbled like a sand sculpture in a paint mixer.
These days I was normally out of the door before my mom was out of bed because I needed to catch a bus to school and it wasn’t the speediest of journeys. I prayed that Eric would stay there with her until after I was gone, but it wasn’t to be.
I didn’t even hear him enter the kitchen, I was bent over a cupboard putting the bag of rolled oats away when I heard an appreciative murmur from behind me.
“Mmmhmm, that’s just what I like to see in the morning,” he said.
The new uniform was a comfortable fit, but the skirt was barely regulation. Bent over
Kevin J. Anderson, Rebecca Moesta, June Scobee Rodgers