Author's Notes: This story has been posted to Literotica.Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.
Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
This story has been edited by myself, using Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
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"Let me have your cookie I'll be your best friend," the little girl wheedled.
Terri stared at the girl for a long moment. The smile faltered slightly under Terri's impassive scrutiny. Finally Terri picked up the contested cookie and took a bite.
It was oatmeal raisin. Terri hated raisins. She smiled at the defeated look in the girl's eyes.
"I don't want you for a best friend," Terri announced, putting the disgusting cookie onto the school lunch tray again.
Eleven years later, Terri could not even remember the girl's name. She could not remember the girl's crestfallen look. Neither that girl nor that moment in time held any significance for Terri.
She did not remember Tucker, the adorable Yorkshire puppy Santa Claus had brought to her. The puppy had been under the Christmas tree, big red bow around his scrawny neck. He whimpered and whined, little tail wagging furiously when nine year old Terri came down to see what Santa had brought for her.
"Now, this is your responsibility," Mother had declared. "You need to feed him and make sure he goes outside to do his business. And..."
Terri grew to hate Tucker. Tucker was constantly piddling on the floor, which garnered a punishment for Terri. When he wasn't piddling on the floor, he was snuffling piteously at his empty food dish, his bone dry water bowl. Threats of bringing Tucker to the Animal Shelter earned little more than disinterested shrugs from Terri.
Terri was the head cheerleader for two of the three years she was in high school. She was the Homecoming Queen. She was Senior Prom Queen. She was the valedictorian of her graduating class. Carelessly flinging her knee length white-blonde hair back out of her sparkling blue eyes, Terri shrugged off the numerous awards she received.
"Narcissistic Personality Disorder," one psychiatrist diagnosed.
"Spoiled child syndrome,' a trained psychotherapist declared.
"This is what happens when you give a child everything she wants," her paternal grandmother sniped.
"Maybe she's autistic?" her mother offered.
"Maybe you're just looking for excuses?" the paternal grandmother snapped. "I love her. Lord knows I love my granddaughter. But lord! I don't like her."
"Well, then maybe you need to leave my house," her mother snarled.
Sex was met with the same detached disinterest; she enjoyed climaxing but did not enjoy the clinging nature of her partners. Her dildo was infinitely more satisfying and she did not need to pretend any interest before sex nor did she need to make any excuses to leave after sex. This detachment was the same whether her partner was male or female.
She even pulled a few trains on fraternity row. She also tried a few gangbangs. During her first gangbang, Terri discovered she did enjoy anal sex. She did not enjoy how quickly her three partners lost stamina; two hours and forty nine minutes later, all three young men were claiming fatigue. With a sneer, she slowly wiped her hand across her drooling pussy and licked her fingers clean of their combined juices. Then she dressed and left the fraternity house.
"God damn, Double Downer that is one freaky bitch, huh?" one young man complained, wearily dragging his tired carcass from the soiled bed.
"Fucking beautiful, though, huh?" Chris 'Double Downer' Downesagreed.
She tried sex with a black man. As a cheerleader, she attended most of the college's sporting events. One of the tight ends caught her eye and after a victorious game, she went off with him to a hotel room. There would be no fumbling in the back seat of a car for her.
He was shocked; actually, he was outraged when he discovered that their one night of very passionate and vigorous fucking did not link them romantically. Her comment of 'you were good; just not great' was not meant to be a scathing commentary, but it was extremely cutting to his ego. The fact that she made this statement in front of the milling cheerleaders and several of his teammates made the flippant comment all the more cutting.
She tried a Latino as well. Ricky Lopez was a star player on the school's soccer team. Small, quick and agile, on the field he was truly a force to be reckoned with.
Ricky could not believe his luck when the gorgeous blonde cheerleader graced him with a smile. Happily, he followed her to the four star hotel, the finest and most expensive lodgings in the college town. Her kisses were hot, full of promise. He gazed adoringly at her 34DD breasts with large light brown areolae and hard nipples, He looked hungrily at her tight curls of light blonde. When she turned, displaying an ass sculpted by years of gymnastics, Ricky babbled his undying love.
Terri laughed happily as Ricky lay her on her belly. She laughed and moaned as he slobbered, babbled, licked and fingered her tight anus for several moments before thrusting his cock into her rectum.
She reached down and fingered her clitoris while Ricky hammered her anus. She managed to climax just after feeling his warm spunk shooting into her bowels. Then, to her shock, Ricky again feasted on her ass, licking and sucking on her sloppy anus. He repeated this vulgar act twice more before declaring he was done for the evening.
Three days later, Terri had to threaten to tell Ricky's heavily pregnant wife of their episode for Ricky to accept that there was no future with the beautiful blonde cheerleader. Another cheerleader, watching Ricky slink away did comment that the soccer star did love the booty, though. She and Terri shared a giggle. Then she and the brunette cheerleader shared the brunette's bed for an afternoon. The brunette dropped out of college when she realized Terri did not return her feelings of love.
Drugs also garnered the same detached scrutiny. Terri drank to the point of vomiting. Then she was done with excessive drinking. Smoking marijuana produced no lasting results so she decided the coughing and hacking simply was not worth it. Cocaine did produce a very pleasant euphoria but the effects of the drug too was far too short lived for her taste. Practicality dictated that, even with her multi-million dollar trust fund left to her by her maternal grandfather, it would soon prove to be too expensive to achieve and maintain the desired effect.
Her grades were perfect; even with the hectic schedule of being a cheerleader, Terri managed to stay fully invested in her studies. She also sat in on many study groups, absorbing information like a sponge. After her first semester, her grades dictated that she was eligible to live off-campus. Terri decided to remain in the dormitory, although she could not explain why. It certainly was not that she feared being alone or lonely.
Close to mid-terms of her second semester, Terri went to an impromptu fraternity party. She smirked; very few parties on fraternity row were actually planned out. Most were simply spur of the moment gatherings.
"Hey, got some shit really fuck you up," Cozy said, sidling up to her as she sipped her cup of potent jungle juice.
"Oh yeah?" Terri asked, feeling quite relaxed after her third glass of jungle juice. "Not that crystal meth, is it?"
She'd seen the damages crystal meth could wreak on the body, particularly the face of the user. She had no desire to lose her beauty over a cheap, fleeting high.
"What? Shit, girl, shut your face too. Think I'm going have shit to do with that?" Cozy spat, indignant.
She didn't know Cozy very well; Terri wasn't even sure what his real name might be. But his pretended outrage caused her to smirk.
"Okay, so sorry. So what you got?" Terri asked, waving away a hopeful suitor that approached them.
"What can brown do for you?" Cozy asked, parroting the UPS commercial as he showed her a plastic bag with some powder.
"Yeah, sure, what the fuck," Terri agreed. "Clean needles though. I'm not picking up whatever the fuck it is that you got."
"Absolutely," Cozy agreed, guiding Terri to a small half-bath located next to the kitchen of the large house.
Terri tied off her left arm with the rubber strap. She watched as Cozy prepared the needle. Her blue eyes danced in the flickering light of his disposable cigarette lighter.
Hey, fucker! You fucking mind? We're busy here, huh?" Cozy spat as the bathroom door burst open.
x.x
Her jaws ached. There was an odd taste in her mouth and to her embarrassment, she could feel drool dribbling out of the corner of her mouth, dripping along her chin onto her throat and her chest. She moved to wipe the drool from her face.
"Ack! I, oh!" Terri grunted, realizing she could not move her hands.
At first, her fogged brain tried to decipher; was this an odd symptom of heroin use? Did heroin cause one's limbs to become incapacitated? Another attempt brought fuzzy realization to her mind; her wrists ached, burned where the binds cut into her flesh. Her shoulders ached from strain.
She twisted her head, trying to see. Her vision was blocked; only specks of dim light pierced her optic nerve as she attempted to see.
Her sense of smell was not hindered; she could smell a male aroma. The smell of sweat, of harsh soap and detergent; only a man would use such soaps on his flesh and on his clothing and bedding.
Her wrists and shoulders burned; apparently she was suspended by her wrists above her head. Futilely, she tried kicking her legs. She realized her legs were bound, bound far apart from each other. And, she realized that she was nude.
"Help! Help!" she cried out but the gag in her mouth only allowed a grunting sound to escape.
A strong hand gripped her by her hair. She could feel his nude body behind her, could smell his aroma. She could feel his coarse chest hair rasping against her back and right side as he stepped close to her.
"Heroin? HEROIN?" he hissed in her ear. "Oh, because we've heard such wonderful and positive things about heroin addiction, right?"
"I, I just, I just wanted to see, I just wanted to know what it felt like," she sobbed but her words were just grunts and mumbles.
"Oh, I know. Nothing can ever touch you, touch the great, the perfect Terri," the voice mocked.
Terri tried to place the voice. He had no discernable accent, no inflection or modulation that would give any indication of his identity. She was sure she knew his voice though. Perhaps a previous fling?
"I, I have money," Terri babbled, a real panic setting in. "Let me go and I'll pay you. Pay you whatever you want."
