Dirty Seduction

He stares at me, I can feel it, but I can’t see his eyes in the shadows. He’s big, much bigger than me. He smells of weed and stale body spray mixed with sweat, but right now none of that matters.

I launch into a monologue, telling him my name’s Laine, and how I was out with a stupid friend who took my phone and keys with her when she left. I tell him it’s my birthday, that I’m having the crappiest night of my life and he’d make it just a little bit better if he’d please give me a cigarealizeI realize how stupid I sound, how weak my voice is. How weak I feel.

How alone I feel.

But I’ve felt alone for longer than I can remember, this shit’s nothing new.

He hands me the cigarette from his fingers, and even though it makes me feel a bit icky, I take it from him.

“Thanks.”

“Past your bedtime from the look of you,” he grunts. His voice is thick and raspy, and it makes me feel uneasy.

I press myself against the wall, trying to hide from the downpour and protect the cigarette.

“Everyone says that.” I take a long drag. “I’m eighteen. Perfectly legal, at least from today. Yesterday. It’s not even my birthday anymore. Talk about celebrating in style, things can only get better, right?”

My stupid giggle anhumoralathumoseemseem to go right over his head.

He grunts again. Perfectly legal. I regret my choice of words.

I keep puffing away, looking at the floor, concentrating on nothing but the welcome rush of nicotine.

“All alone, then?” I can hear the sneer in his tone. He has an accent, a hint of cockney. It’s gruff and deep and laced with the underbelly of this realize to realize the fine hairs on the back of my neck are standing up and it’s not from etherealizes realize I’m in a dark street with nobody around besides a man who makes me feel like a mouse in a trap.

I force a smile, gesturing aimlessly at the road ahead. “My friend will be along for me soon,” I lie. “She’s coming back, such a ditz.”

He laughs. “You just said she’d bailed. Make your mind up.”

“Figure of speech,” I lie again. “She’ll be back… anytime now…” “Sure she will.” He takes a step towards me and I take a shuffle back.

“You can drop the lost little girl shit.”

“Sorry?” I keep my smile bright, even though my heart is thumping like a bastard.

“How much for the works?” I feel his eyes on me, all over me. He takes another step my way. “How much for a go on that cute little ass? Don’t be shy now.”

“But I’m not…” I drop the cigarette. “I’m not a…” My eyes are wide, but I still can’t see his. “My friend’s coming right now… she’s on her way…”

He nudges the door behind him, and the stench of weed hits me. “Come up, get warm. I’ve got weed, or stronger shit, whatever you want. You’d like that, right? I bet you ain’t so fucking innocent as you look.” I hear the smirk in his voice.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

I shake my head. “She’ll be here soon, really not… I shouldn’t be here…”

“I bet you make a fucking fortune with that nice little girl shit.”

“I’m not playing…” I move away from him, but back into one of the wheeled bins. Cardboard boxes fall to the floor and make me jump.

He laughs louder. “Come on, baby girl, don’t be such a fucking tease.” His voice is leery, drunk. “Bet you sound real fucking nice when you’ve got a nice hard cock in your snatch.”

My back is pressed tight against the bin, and he’s close, too close. His breath is in my face. It stinks. He stinks. He smells musty and rank, Mum’s one of mMum’sold boyfriends… the window cleaner with the black tooth… the one who slipped his hand between my legs when we were watching Disney and never came over again…

“You want this… I want this…” His horrible laugh is right in my ear. I feel his lips on me. “You’ve got me all worked up, baby girl… you owe me for the smoke… you owe me now… what are you gonna do about it?”

I look around, trying to catch sight of an exit, but there isn’t one. He’s too close, too big, and even if I made a break for it, where would I go?

“Don’t…” I say. “Please…”

“Gonna warm you right up, make it feel real ice, if you’re a good girl.”

My chest feels tight, cold air hissing in my throat as I struggle to gulp it in. My heart is racing, but I feel disconnected, as though I’m not here, as though this is happening to someone else. I feel his breath on my neck, the warmth of his fingers as they slip inside my cardigan. I feel like I should be fighting, kicking and sc, and clawing at his face, but I’m so numb.

So scared.

His thumb brushes my nipple and it shocks like electric.

“Knew you fucking wanted it,” he grunts.

A strange sense of detachment washes over me, a sense of being sucked into a pit, where there is nothing, where everything is easy, where I can hide in the quiet place in my mind and pretend this is not me. It’s his tongue against my ear that snaps me back to myself. It feels wet and hot.

“No,” I say, and my voice sounds stronger this time. I’m wriggling, trying to bring my legs up, squirming away from his mouth.

“Chill the fuck out,” he hisses, and my heart pounds in my ears.

The rumble of cars at the top of the street spurs me on, and I lash outmatching him hard across the face. He swears and stumbles, touching his cheek for just long enough for me to kick out and make a run for it.

“HEY!” he calls. “GET THE FUCK BACK HERE!”

I hear his footsteps in the puddles behind me, the air in my lungs burning as my numb feet pound the street. I can feel him behind me but I daren’t look back, just keep focused on the light at the top of the street, at the sound of a car heading closer. I see the headlights, blurry through the rain, and the danger behind me drives me straight into the road. I’m waving, jumping ng, and throwing my arms above my head as I hear the screechtiresyres. I close my eyes, a rabbit caught in the headlights.

I hear a car door slamming.

I jump a mile as a hand grips my elbow.