Can't Say No

*All characters in this story are fictional and above the age of 18.

**The world depicted is fictional.

***Please do not read if you are offended by misogyny, or non-consent.

*****

I breathed in a deep lungful of air. The interior of Matt's car smelled nice. Focusing on my breath was trick I used to stay calm during sports. The steady flow of air was reassuring in an otherwise uncomfortable situation.

Signs whipped by as we cruised down the road. It hadn't taken me long to lose track of where we were headed. I had my driver's license, but I rarely drove. Mom had the family's only car. Back while I was in driver's ed, mom had saved up to buy me a car, but cars were expensive and she used the money for my soccer camp instead. At first, I was a little disappointed, but it wasn't so bad being ferried around. I was lucky to have a mom with a car anyway.

I checked my phone. Text from Evelyn. She'd sent me a link to a blog. "

10 must know techniques for a modern woman in demand

" I closed my phone.

I'm not going to read some sexist article.

I texted her back, '

not interested'.

I glanced over at Matt—my phone buzzed again—Evelyn. I opened her message. A GIF of a pregnant woman greeted me. She was dancing with apparent excitement.

I squirmed in my seat. I could still feel the place inside me where I'd failed to wipe away my teacher's semen in time. I had managed to briefly ignore reality, but Evelyn's message burst my bubble. Pregnancy was back in the forefront of my mind. My knee started bouncing up and down, a nervous habit.

In the last two hours, two men had ejaculated inside of me. I couldn't ignore the fact. I couldn't afford another mistake.

Abashed, I tilted my phone away from Matt and opened the link Evelyn sent me. If there were any tricks to be learned, I needed to know them, and soon.

"So, you got any fun plans for your birthday?" Matt broke the silence. I looked up from my reading with a jolt, several minutes had passed. I put my phone in my pocket and looked up at him.

Is he mocking me?

Matt drummed his hands on the steering wheel. As far as I could tell, his question was genuine.

I shrugged, "Just soccer practice. I'll probably go home after that. It's only Wednesday, and I've got homework to do." Matt laughed.

"Why would you even bother with homework? Once you're out of High School and settled down, no one's going to remember what grades you got. The only thing you girls have to worry about is that one class—" he looked over and snapped his fingers in my face, "Come on, what's it called?"

"EPC" I said. Matt raised an eyebrow. "Etiquette and Personal Care," I offered. He nodded, but he didn't seem to be listening to me. His eyes were on the road.

"Girls have it so easy. My parents are making me take prep classes for the College Readiness Exam, meanwhile girls only need one class to graduate, and it's about dressing yourself! I mean, I have to wear clothes every day and I don't even get credit." He laughed at his own cleverness. I felt annoyed.

"EPC isn't that easy; we have to remember—" Matt's waved his hand in front of my face.

"Yea, yea. Relax, it's a joke." He glanced down at me, "in fact, I think I understand why they have to teach you about clothes."

I followed his gaze to my outfit. My skirt sported several clay stains, and my blouse was wrinkled with buttons missing. Worry gnawed my stomach, my concern had nothing to do with Matt's dumb joke.

I look like a child who can't dress herself.

I still had EPC later today, and there was no way my outfit was going to slip past Mrs. Hoffman's inspection. Feeling embarrassed, I tried to think of a new topic.

"My mom's making me take the College Readiness Exam." I said. Matt's reaction was immediate. He snorted and hunched over the wheel. I looked down at my shoes, wishing I hadn't spoken.

"Seriously? That's so weird. Aren't you failing math?" He said. "I guess your grades are normal for a girl, but the CRE has advanced subjects." He pulled the car into a parking lot as he spoke. With annoyance, I realized we were at a fast food drive-through. This was not the type of food I wanted before soccer practice.

"Well I'm top of the class in English." I responded. The claim was a stretch, but I wanted to shut Matt up. Truthfully, I had gotten B's this year in English. I was frustrated because English was my best subject, but no matter how good my work was, I always received a B. To add insult to injury, my teacher only gave me vague feedback like "

Could be stronger.",

or

"needs edits."

"Everyone gets A's in English," said Matt, "but what did you get on the last math quiz?" My cheeks grew hot. Matt sat behind me in math. He must've seen I'd failed. I couldn't think of a response, so the silence stretched. Feeling he'd made his point, Matt turned to the drive through to order.

I looked out the passenger window as Matt ordered. Was he really getting A's in English? Before this year, if someone had asked who the better student was, I would've said myself. Now I didn't feel confident at all. The uncertainty made me feel stupid, I hated the feeling.

The car pulled forward—I swiveled back toward Matt.

"Wait, I didn't order anything yet," I said. When I looked up at Matt, he stared down blankly.

"Sorry, we're in a bit of a hurry." He grinned, "Besides, I want you in tip top shape." He reached down and pinched my stomach. A sharp pain jolted through my abdomen. I bristled.

"Are you serious? After you insisted, I go to lunch with you? I need to eat something too." Matt's selfishness made me forget my insecurity, I was livid. I glared at Matt, but his only response was to pat my thigh.

"Calm down. It's not that big of a deal, I'll save you something." Matt sighed, "Geeze. Why do girls always expect guys to buy them stuff?" He shook his head to himself.

Listening to his comment made me fume. I tried to compose my thoughts, but my anger made thinking difficult.

Here's an idea Matt, let women have jobs, then we won't ask you to buy us stuff.

I wanted to correct his sexism, but his initial comment had paralyzed me. Now, the window for a retort was past. If I said something, I'd open myself to further ridicule. I shut my mouth.

Matt pulled the car up to the cashier's window, and offered his card to the employee. When the employee stooped to grab Matt's card, he paused. I looked over—the man's eyes flicked away from me. A familiar instinct said he'd been staring at me. I made sure not to look in the cashier's direction. The man was a few years older than us, and I didn't want his attention.

The cashier lingered at our window. Uncomfortable, I pretended to be focused on something outside, and covered my chest with my arms. Finally, he withdrew. Once he was gone, I exhaled a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Something about him felt off.

I made sure to face away from the pickup window when the cashier returned. I didn't want to do anything to attract his attention.

"Here your food," said the man. He paused, "Thanks for eating with us by the way, my name's Justin. Do you guys have names?" His straightforward tone of voice took me by surprise.

Does this creepy fast food worker seriously think I'm telling him my name?

I decided to pretend I didn't hear him. I was not indulging this creep. Though I couldn't see him, I was sure he was checking me out again. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

Drive away Matt.

Matt sounded taken aback by the nature of the man's question, but he didn't miss a beat. I heard him grab the food. "Thanks for the food Justin, I go by Matt. The quiet one over there's Jessie." The moment the words were out of his mouth, my heart leapt through my throat. Aghast, I looked up toward Matt, but he was oblivious to what he'd done. As Matt rolled up the window, I risked a glance at the cashier. To my horror, I found him staring right at me. One of his eye's was lazy. He seemed to be contemplating Matt's words.

My mind raced as the car pulled away. It was just a first name. I was probably overreacting.

"Now comes the fun part," said Matt. I barely listened to him. Did Matt have our High School's bumper sticker on his car? The last thing I needed was some stalker harassing me. I wanted to yell at Matt for being an idiot, but something stopped me. If I freaked out over him telling someone my name, I would sound crazy. Uncertainty gripped me. I was probably overreacting.

Matt navigated us through the parking lot. I wondered if he planned to park and eat, or drive back to school. He didn't do either. Instead, he took the car and pulled around to the back of the shopping strip. I watched him put the car in park.

I looked outside the car for the first time. There wasn't much apart from loading docks, and dumpsters. In contrast to the traffic by the storefronts, the backside was deserted.

Why are we here?

All at once, the car's atmosphere felt cramped.

Matt unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over me. I looked up into his face. My muscles stiffened. There wasn't enough space to move away. He used his right hand to free my seatbelt, "let's have a look, shall we?"

What is he talking—

My thought was interrupted by Matt's hands on my shirt. I tried to pull back, but he moved quickly. He pulled my shirt up, my blouse caught on my boobs a moment, then popped over. I raised an arm to push Matt back, but he'd let go. My shirt was scrunched on top my bosom now, my bra and cleavage exposed. Matt soaked in my breasts with his eyes. The enjoyment on his face made me grumpy.

"What the fuck, Matt." I mustered my indignation, but the words sounded weak. I wasn't even meeting his eye.

Look at him when you talk.

I watched him lift his hands, and imagined myself stopping him.

An instant later, he was fondling my chest. I pushed back at him, but my resistance was so feeble Matt barely noticed. He jiggled my breasts up and down, oblivious to my presence. As he groped me, I felt the marks left by my neighbor, my counselor, and my art teacher's probing hands. I winced, my breasts were already tender, and now they hurt. I yelped as his fingers pinched my nipples. He didn't stop, so I pulled his hands off.

"That hurts," I said. In response, Matt flung my arms to the sides. My right arm glanced off the dashboard.

"I don't have time for your girly theatrics," he said. I clutched my stinging wrist. "Take your skirt off and lay down in the back."

I sat, petrified by Matt's strength and speed. I shrank down before him.

'Just do as your told'

I heard my mom. I would be ok; he didn't want to hurt me.

I remembered Mr. Stephenson. I had done everything he asked me to do. Then, as a reward for my obedience, he had cum inside of me.

I watched Matt grab and pull at the crotch of his athletic pants. Soon enough, the telltale outline of an erection formed. Icy panic set in.

Not again.

Evelyn's words filtered back through my brain,

'find some other way to give them what they want.'

I was at a crossroads. I imagined my future, countless men—friends and strangers alike pinned me down. Their weight crushed me. I closed my eyes and tried to shut them out. I'd give anything to be out of my predicament. I took a breath.

There must be a way out

.

I realized what I had to do.

An alien confidence flooded my body. It was as if the normal Jessie had slid down my spine and onto the floor. In her usual place was someone unfamiliar. She was powered by a lone desire—her scholarship. A scholarship would mean freedom.

I giggled. The sound was foreign to my ears. Matt looked up, caught off guard by this new development. I was giving in, but not really. Old Jessie was gone, all that was left, was the role she would play. Adrenaline filled me up, I felt the blood rush in my ears.

Make him happy. No room for reservations.

Matt stared at me. Confused? No, curious. I lifted my hands and grabbed hold of my blouse. A second later, I ripped it apart. My final two buttons disappeared amongst the debris on the floor—a voice in my head cried in anguish. I quashed it.

No time to second guess.

My bra was fully exposed now. I looked down at myself—sleek abs—breasts pressed tight against their confines. I took my boobs in my hands, bit my lip, and kneaded them together. I ignored the mild discomfort. My eyes locked on Matt's—I moaned. He stared down at me, mouth agape.

I let my hands wander from breasts to skirt. I pulled my legs under me and sat on my knees, thighs pressed together, like a schoolgirl. Matt's gaze was near eye level now.

I sat up. Carefully, I pulled my skirt down my hips, over my butt, and past my knees—I didn't stop until I reached my socks. I left my skirt at the bottom of my legs, tangled around my ankles. If I tried to standup like this, I'd fall.

I sat beneath Matt's gaze, nearly naked. I looked over my body—toned from competition.

Was this good enough?

My eyes swept down to the only judge that mattered. I shuddered in relief—Matt's erection had grown. His penis strained against his athletic pants. In my head I was giddy with a mixture of relief and success. I tottered on my knees, as if I couldn't balance, and plopped onto my hands and knees across his lap.

Matt grabbed hold of my butt cheek.

Good.

He used his other hand to pet my ponytail.

I need to keep things moving while he's distracted.

I pulled at his pants with resolute focus, eager to spring his dick free. Impatient, I reached into his boxers to pull him out. I fumbled a moment before getting hold of him. Wresting his dick from the elastic took a moment. Finally, he popped free.

My face was inches away, and I suddenly had a close-up of Matt's genitals. A thick nest of curly black pubic hair covered his balls and ran up his shaft. There was more hair than I'd seen before. I hesitated.

As if on cue, Matt pushed my face towards his dick. I struggled against him, in an instant, I realized how great our strength disparity was. His hairy crotch loomed before me, and I resigned myself.

As Matt increased the pressure on my head, I graciously curbed my resistance. He guided me the remaining distance.

This is what you wanted, Jessie. Either your mouth or your vagina.

I grabbed his dick; he filled my fist—warm and solid.

There was no time to let Matt change his mind. If he decided he wanted more, I would be powerless to stop him.

I placed my mouth around his dick. It was a relief to stop fighting the pressure Matt had placed on my head. I sunk down on him, hair and all. As I reached the bottom, I moaned for good measure.

Matt's hand left my butt and joined his other hand on the back of my head. Suddenly, I found myself stuck at the base of his shaft, unable to withdraw.

"This is the smartest idea you've ever had, Jess. Make yourself useful, we are low on time." Matt's words invaded my ears. As he spoke, my tongue met his bush of hair, I didn't like the texture.

I tapped his leg as an indication to let me up, but nothing happened. Instead, Matt thrust up imperceptibly. Tears filled my eyes, and my throat threatened to gag.

I blinked, angrily. I didn't want to cry in front of Matt. Instead, I waited until he was satisfied. Eventually, his hand returned to my butt. I took his hand as a cue to get started.

I worked up and down, doing my best to ignore the sensation of wet hair in my mouth. I couldn't stop, I needed to do a good job. I tried to work up a pace between my mouth and hand, but pulling my mouth back kept getting harder. Each time I withdrew, Matt increased the pressure on my head.

My mouth grew thick with saliva and hair. I tried to remember the advice Evelyn sent me.

Use more tongue. Use your hand. Go fast. Keep a rhythm. Don't gag.

The wet noises from my mouth filled my ears.

In the space of minutes, my world had narrowed to my mouth and hand.

Is he enjoying this?

I looked up, and blinked. Matt's phone stared back at me. He was filming from above me I realized. I felt shock, but it was muted. The Jessie inside me didn't care right now. She was putty in Matt's hands. She had to be perfect, for him. I looked into the phone, then back to Matt. His grin was all the motivation I needed.

I plunged my head back onto his dick. My grip on him was firm. My hand insistent, uncompromising. I groaned through my mouth. A muffled sound came out. He twitched inside my mouth, but I didn't let up. I ran my tongue around the head of his dick. My arm worked fast. Matt groaned, unrestrained. He was on the ropes.

"Happy Birthday, Jessie." Matt's palm fell across my ass. I heard a fleshy slap—felt the sting of his hand. I moaned appreciatively. His hips thrust forward. The grip on my ponytail was vicelike. He pushed me forward. Together, my head and his hand fought my mouth down every inch of him. I didn't dare gag. My throat hugged him. A spasm wracked Matt's body. His penis pulsed in my throat.

Suddenly, my mouth was flooded with liquid. I looked up at him with large eyes.

"You better swallow it." Matt said. There was an edge in his voice. I watched him. His jaw was set in a hard line. Suddenly, the car felt cramped again and I was aware of just how big he was. The new Jessie disappeared in a puff of smoke. I was scared and alone again. I didn't want Matt angry.

Reluctantly, I gulped down the extra liquid in my mouth. Slowly, his wetness slid down the back of my throat. Matt's hand left the back of my head. He chuckled.

"There you go. Didn't you say you wanted lunch?" Confused, I looked back up at him. His phone was still next my face. Matt made eye contact for a moment then erupted into laughter.

"Surely even you understand that joke Jessie." Matt shook his head and stowed his phone in his pocket, "Amazing." I watched his phone disappear uneasily. My lips felt raw and my face was wet from saliva. I wiped my face on my arm.

Matt stared at my boobs as he tucked himself away. My face prickled and I pulled my blouse from the floor. Matt smiled wryly.

I looked at my ruined blouse, now unwearable.

What have I done?

My mouth felt odd. I ran my tongue across my teeth. Something was stuck in them? I picked at the offending object with my fingers, whatever it was, it was too small to catch a hold of. There were multiple.

Did I eat something recently?

I flipped down the mirror. Something dark was sticking out amongst my normally white teeth. I narrowed my eyes.

It couldn't be.

I groaned. Matt's pubic hairs were stuck in my teeth. The realization made me gag. I spluttered, and shook my head. I spit into my hand, but nothing came out. The hairs were stuck. Once I noticed, I couldn't ignore the feeling. My mouth felt soiled, tainted by Matt.

I spent the drive back to school with the double duty of clutching my blouse together, and trying to pick Matt's hairs from my teeth.

If I took my hand away, even for a moment, my blouse fell apart, revealing my bra to the world. I cursed my recklessness.

Why on earth did I tear the buttons off?

Matt chuckled as he ate. All too soon, the familiar site of school approached. Matt parked his car.

"Here, I saved you something." Matt pushed his burger wrappers into my hand. I looked down and saw the uneaten pickles from his burger.

Matt exited, and slammed the door of his car, leaving me alone with a handful of crumpled paper and pickles.

My stomach rumbled as I looked examined the food in my hand. Forgetting my dignity, I gobbled down the pickles. I wanted to burst into tears. I was tired of being a girl. Life was exhausting.

"Let's move," Matt called from outside the car. I looked up at him, hopelessly. My shirt was a mess. I slipped out of the door.