Run Cindy, Hide
1
Cindy is eighteen.
Today.
Her best friend Julie and a few of the guys take her to Billie's, a rowdy bar in a part of town Cindy rarely visits. Julie's boyfriend has a connection at the bar. Dan scores, and they all get high at one of the little tables in the back, by the dance floor.
Julie says she wants more.
She whispers to Cindy that they should get more.
All the girls in Carnal know you can prostitute yourself for more drugs. They have slang for it at school. They call it, hard candy. They call it, breaking bank. Or sometimes, if one of the girls desperately needs something, one of the other girls will joke, "Put your meat on the block, sister." None of the girls know anyone who has actually put her meat on the block, but that doesn't stop them from talking this way.
The guys are sitting right there.
What Julie is suggesting is obvious to Cindy, but she doesn't say no. She thinks about having sex tonight. She sets her glass on the coaster and smiles, a warm tingle in her tummy. Tim asks her to dance and she rolls her eyes, dismissing him. It's rude and Julie laughs, but Cindy feels no regret. Tim and John have been after her all night. The girls go back and forth about getting more drugs without letting the guys know what they're talking about. When the band takes a break, Julie grabs Cindy's hand, leading her into the backroom where Dan went earlier.
They find the dealer. He's a wiry black guy, with a bald head.
As he looks Julie up and down, Cindy feels terror stricken. Her breasts are too small. Her white blonde hair hangs limp at her shoulders. She didn't realize they were going out tonight, and she only wore an old pair of denim shorts and a tank top. The dealer looks at her hips, her ass. That tingle in her tummy is back, and now it's moving down between her legs. He smiles, and she looks at Julie, flushed with excitement and fear.
This is crazy.
He has to show them how to use the pipe. They've only used powder before.
The drugs in the backroom are more potent than the stuff in the front. Soon Cindy is gritting her teeth, her heart racing in her chest. She's had sex twice before. Both times it was unexpected and over in minutes. Once in the passenger seat of a Honda. Another time on a couch in an unfinished basement. She's opening and closing her knees, creating a delicious sensation between her legs. Every so often she holds her thighs tight together and then grinds her bottom against the metal lip of the chair.
Julie sees what Cindy is doing and gives her the eye.
Cindy stops, embarrassed.
There are a few middle-aged men in the room. Some younger guys. They're all watching. Cindy thinks about fucking a man, riding a cock. Squeezing her thighs together, she moves her bottom to the front of the chair, trying to be more discreet.
The dealer asks Julie to remove her pants.
Julie laughs. She is wearing leggings and a cute little halter top. On her left wrist she has a bunch of rubber bands, hair ties, and a collection of beaded string. She says she won't take off her pants in front of everyone.
The dealer raises his brow.
He looks bored. Making a motion with his hand, he signals for someone in another room. A guy with a scar on his face comes into the room. His disfigurement starts at the forehead, goes through his eye, and ends on his cheek. He can still use the eye. He has pitch-black skin and a bright white grin. Two big hounds pad into the room with him. The dogs knock into one another around his feet, tails wagging.
The dealer makes a face and nods at Julie.
Scarface puts his arm around her. She slips out of her leggings, handing them to him. He takes the pants, looks at them, but says it's too late for her to take them off.
He gives the pants to the dealer. The dealer tosses them onto the table.
Julie stands in her panties, pushing a dog's head away from her crotch. An attractive girl, she has brown eyes and dark hair tied into a ponytail. Cindy has always admired Julie's body, her ability to talk to guys. She is taller than Cindy, with slight hips. Scarface says that in the Gulf War the Iraqis were able to take Kuwait so easily because they tied up the young daughters of Kuwaiti nationals and allowed dogs to have sex with them. Julie gasps, horrified. He laughs, nodding his head. "Yeah," he says, "Crazy, right?" He explains that it's a form of torture that goes back into antiquity. Like, invading Huns and Roman Legion times, he says. You smear bacon grease on a girl's pussy and then let the dogs lick it off.
Julie looks at Cindy.
He says that even if the dogs terrify a girl, eventually she will give in to that rough tongue licking her pussy. When the dog smells her arousal, he knows he can fuck her.
Cindy laughs.
Is this a joke? This has to be a joke, right?
Her pussy is throbbing.
Scarface flips on a lamp, illuminating a bed with a scaffold floating above it, a bunch of leather straps with little silver buckles hanging down. After that, he says, it's just a problem of logistics. He flips a few more lamps on. A camera on a tripod points toward the bed. "Not a popular video," he says, "but the people that like this shit, pay a lot for it."
Cindy goes to her friend, touching her back.
Julie's shoulders shudder.
Cindy wants to say something but she's not sure what. She is really turned on and not sure why. It's embarrassing and inappropriate. She keeps her body still, desperate to hide her arousal.
Scarface stands by the tripod. "You need one camera back here, to get the big picture." He turns to the bed and holds his hands out, like a director. "Then you need another camera here." He points to the head of the bed, "Shooting her face. She's going to come and you're going to want to capture that."
Julie sobs, burying her face in Cindy's chest.
Cindy blows air from her mouth, clenching and relaxing the muscles in her thighs. Her embarrassment has turned to guilt, a deep and horrible guilt.
She strokes Julie.
Scarface stands before them, holding a handheld camera. "Then this one?" He touches Julie on the shoulder and she looks up. "This one is for getting the close ups shots, so those sick motherfuckers can see it sliding in and out . . ."
Julie's face goes white.
His face lights up. He chuckles, grinning with those big white teeth.
She throws herself at his feet. "Please, please. I'll suck cock. I'll suck your cock." Her voice is throaty and frightened. She rubs the front of his pants. "You can fuck me. You can fuck it, fuck it. You can fuck . . ."
A rush of desire makes Cindy's nipples hard little rocks. She bites her lower lip.
He puts the camera down and takes each of Julie's hands in his. He grins down at her.
"Please, fuck. Please . . ." She rubs her face on his groin.
He shakes his head, snorting. Taking her by the armpits, he hauls her to her feet. "I'm not like that," he says. She looks at him mystified. "You don't have anything I want in that department." A few of the men in the room laugh.
Julie looks over her shoulder, her mouth open, a panicked expression on her face.
Cindy meets her friend's eyes, narrowing her own.
He's gay? He's telling her he's gay
.
"Please," Julie tugs her cute shirt over her head and stands in her bra and panties. Her eyes are wide, her voice stressed. "I'll suck anyone's cock. I'll suck it. Anyone can fuck me. Anyone who wants can fuck it."
His hands go to her shoulders and he shushes her until she stops talking. Her shirt falls from her hand. He makes her take a deep breath.
"Easy," he says.
She closes her eyes. Breathes deeply.
Exhales.
"You are going to suck some cocks," he says. Julie opens her eyes, hopeful. "You are going to fuck some guys." A look of relief washes over her. Scarface raises an eyebrow and looks her in the eye. "That's what you agreed to when you took the drugs."
Julie swallows, twisting her hands together.
He tilts his head. "Right?"
She nods.
He smiles. "This is different," he says. "This is punishment for not taking off your pants."
Julie's face falls. Shaking her head, she makes a high-pitched keening noise.
He touches his finger to her mouth. "Shushhhhh."
She quiets.
