Gabriel Sharpe
Seventeen Years Old
“Next.”
My father’s bored, gruff tone grates on my nerves and I itch to tug at the knot of my tie. But his shrewd nearly black eyes are on me—always on me—waiting for me to show one tiny sliver of weakness. Weakness is what he feeds on. What he has for breakfast, lunch, and fucking dinner. And he’s been feeding on me since I was ten years old. So instead, I fist my hands and I keep my features relaxed as I wait for his stupid little show to fucking end. He may be hungry, but I won’t be the one feeding his crazy-ass monster tonight. No, one of the shivering, bound, and crying girls standing in front of our fireplace will. As the next girl stumbles into the room, I close my eyes and let my mind flit to the past. Almost eight years ago, my life changed with the whap of a belt against my flesh.
“Your whore mother left us.” That was his only explanation of why Donna Sharpe wasn’t in the living room slurping down one of her signature dirty martinis after school one day. I’d been confused because, quite frankly, at ten, I had no idea what a whore was. When I cried for the loss of the calmer parent in my home, my father changed. His annoyed expression turned into one of rage, and that day he took out every ounce of his fury of her leaving on me. His expensive leather belt on my bare ass tore the skin to shreds.
But that’s not what broke me.
He crushed me later that night. When the house grew silent and I’d cried myself dry, he stepped into my room and promised to make it all better. That night, he kissed away the pain on my backside, and in the process, twisted my head into a tangled mess of strings that he would go on to pull whenever he wanted.
My father devoured my innocence and now that he can no longer feed on me, he’s transforming into a starved animal. His need to prey on the weak disgusts me. It only shows he isn’t as strong as he thinks he is. He may traipse around in five thousand dollar suits and drive an expensive sports car, but my dad is a pussy.
It took this past summer for me to come to this conclusion. When he’d come into my room after I’d spent a week at summer camp, something in me snapped. I’d watched other guys my age sneak off with girls at night. Kids all around me were happy. Naïve. Untouched. And I realized that I owed him nothing.
But he owed me everything.
The moment he slurred out my name and dragged the covers off my half-naked body, the fear and revulsion that always made me immobile was no longer present. Instead, rage—a glorious fucking feeling—lit a fire inside of me and I exploded. The fucker put up a good fight for a drunk asshole, but I bashed my fists against my father’s face until he was unmoving. My knuckles were bruised and achy, but my pride was restored.
My father never touched me again.
Instead, he treated me like an annoyance. A burden. A fucking bother. Like nothing ever happened.
But everything happened.
That night, I transformed.
I became someone better.
I became my own monster. A monster dead set on not letting him feed off me ever again. I became invincible as far as he was concerned.
Next month I’ll be graduating from high school and I’ll go on to college. Away from my father. Away from my hellish past. I’ll make a life and become someone. For once, I’m not the scrawny, lanky kid with the messy hair and quiet disposition. After that night, I began working out—fueled on by the desire to always be stronger than that beast. Eight months later and I had filled out everywhere. My shoulders were broad, I had abs, and I was no longer someone he could intimidate. Girls started to notice me and guys wanted to be my friend.
I was no longer weak.
“They’re all so terrified,” Grant Sharpe’s gravelly voice growls, interrupting my thoughts when the last girl comes to stand beside the three others.
Four girls.
All of them young.
Some my age, some considerably younger.
But one stands out among the others.
A girl with bright blue eyes and messy blonde hair eyes the group in the living room with disgust. Where the other girls are crying and huddling together, this one looks as though she wants to slaughter every one of us.
My father, his best friend, Lance, his accountant, Gordon, his attorney, Jack, and me. Four girls, four men, and me. These “pussy parties” as good ‘ol Dad called them, were nothing more than a sick form of human trafficking of under-aged girls. Lance, Gordon, and Jack are all married and their wives think they participate in monthly poker night with my father. Something innocent and legal. None of them know.
I’ve always known.
At fifteen, I walked in on one of their parties by mistake when I was supposed to be sleeping. It was then that I became the official mascot. The kid they poked fun at while they smoked their cigars and bid on girls. I hated every second of it. You see, father, in his spare time, recruited girls for a human trafficking ring. And their monthly “poker night” was where they test drove the merchandise before they sold them to the distributors.
Despite hating what happened during them, I began to look forward to those nights. Those were the nights when I would watch girls who were weak and breakable. I was stronger than them. Not the weakest in the bunch. For one night a month, I was a man.
Of course, he never let me do anything but sit and watch from afar, a hard-on straining in my slacks and heat burning my cheeks. I’d craved to lose my virginity to one of them. I even fantasized about falling in love with one of them—had thoughts of rescuing them from the biggest villain I know and running far, far away. But each time, my hopes and dreams were snuffed out as every one of my father’s friends took their pick and disappeared to the other rooms of the house. By the next morning, they were always gone.
Tonight wouldn’t be any different except when girl number four’s eyes meet mine, I see a flash of something that stirs my heart. She’s caged and wild. Everything in her screams to be set free. The girl is different. Not weak at all.
My gaze skims over her naked flesh and lingers over her perfect tits. Small and perky. I can almost feel my mouth watering with the need to suck on her nipple. A small groan escapes me the moment my dick thickens. I continue skimming over her flesh. Unlike the other girls, she’s dirtier. Bony. Hardened. She has a small tattoo of a black heart on her hipbone. I become fixated on the ink that mars her flesh and wonder how old she really is. The other three girls are sixteen or seventeen, but number four looks like she might be eighteen or nineteen. Our eyes meet again and something passes between us.
Not a plea.
Not fear or terror.
A threat.
I will kill all of you. Just untie me and watch.
The smile on my lips is immediate and I wink at her, flashing her a message of my own in one simple glance. I’d cut you loose and help, if I could.
“What’s the matter, boy?” Gordon says with a sneer from beside me. “You got a thing for one of the pieces? Which one? Let me guess…” He trails off and saunters over to them. They shriek—all of them but number four, of course. She bares her teeth at him and I wish he’d get close enough for her to take a bite. “Not this one. Her tits are too big for a little boy like you, and this one looks like a fucking boy with her stupid haircut. This other girl has some fucked-up acne and you’re way too pretty for that, Gabey,” he mocks. Then he continues down the line until he stands in front of the last girl. “But this one. She’s something special, isn’t she? Is this the one you like?”
A growl rumbles in my chest, but I swallow it down, knowing he’s watching me. When I don’t answer, Dad tosses a piece of ice from his glass at me. “Answer him, Gabriel.”
I swallow down the fury and swat the ice out of my lap onto the floor. “Four. I like four.”
“My name is Krista. I am not a number,” she hisses, spittle spraying him.
He wipes at his cheek with the back of his hand. “Krista,” he says with a dark chuckle. “You’d eat that boy for lunch. He’s kind of a wimp. You need a man like me or his daddy over there. A man who’ll fuck you until you bleed. Gabriel wouldn’t even know where to stick it in.”
All the men laugh at my expense and my cheeks blaze with embarrassment.
“I know where to put it,” I snap and cross my arms over my chest. I may be a virgin, but I’m not stupid.
Gordon laughs again and grabs a handful of her tit. She yelps out in pain and I’m already at my feet before I even realize I’ve blown my cool facade.
“Let go of her,” I bark out. My jaw clenches and one of my newly defined muscles ticks in my neck. “I want to buy her.” The words are spoken before I even register what they mean. But as soon as I say them, I stand behind them.
She’ll be the girl.
I’ll save Krista and show them I’m not weak.
Her determined eyes meet mine and they flash with appreciation. She sees me as an accomplice. A stepping stone to get her the hell out of here.
“Absolutely not.” Father’s voice causes prickles of rage to wash over my flesh.
“Ten thousand,” I blurt out.
I know how these things work. These guys pay a certain amount for the girl they want and Dad collects the money. Once a year they go to Vegas with the money in the pot, somewhere I’m not invited—mascot or not—and they have a boys’ weekend where God only knows what takes place. The most any of them have ever paid was six thousand and that was for a pretty Hispanic girl who shockingly had her clit pierced. She certainly wasn’t a virgin, but they all wanted her.
“You don’t have ten thousand,” Dad laughs and slaps the leather of the arm on his recliner. “You don’t have shit, Gabriel. It’s all mine, remember?”
I swallow down my hate for the man and jerk my gaze to meet his glare. “I have a trust fund,” I seethe. “Mom started it for me, remember?”
He doesn’t like his words thrown back at him and the reminder of my mother has him quaking with unmasked rage.
“Oh, come on,” Lance says, poking fun at me, “let the wimp get his dick wet. The kid’s not as scrawny as he used to be. Maybe it’s about time he fucks for the first time.”
I let Lance’s comment roll off me as I keep my hardened stare on my father. Dad’s lips pull into a sneer. “You’re not eighteen yet, mama’s boy. So don’t go getting all high and mighty.”
“I’ll lend it to him, Grant,” Jack says, and I jerk my gaze over to where he sits with his fingers steepled in front of him, hiding his wolfish grin. “Plus sixty-nine percent interest.”
His friends all laugh, each one bolder than usual as they fly high on their high dollar cocaine, but I snap my glare back to my father who regards me coldly, a humorless expression marring the face so similar to the one I see in the mirror each morning. Several seconds pass while he remains motionless. I know he’s contemplating ways to hurt me, but I don’t care. In a couple of months, I’ll be out of here anyway so it doesn’t matter.
“Five thousand. Lend him five grand. I’ll pay the other half because we’re going to share her.” His words dig a knife deep into my gut, but I don’t argue. Instead, I give him a clipped nod.
“Fine.”
The men holler with obnoxious cheers, but I tune them out as my eyes find Krista’s. She now seems shaken, and I momentarily wonder if it’s by the idea of two men having her instead of one. I implore her with my gaze to be strong. Her lip trembles, but a certain understanding passes between us.
I will save you, beautiful. Just give me a chance.
The rest of the evening is a blur as the men negotiate what—scratch that, who—they want. Apparently, the one with the boy’s haircut was their choice piece of meat because they engage in a bidding war over her. Once the money passes hands and the men drag away their prizes, I turn to Dad.
“Take her to your room. I’m giving you an hour with her before I come up. Don’t try anything stupid,” he barks out as he stands and strides over to the bar to refill his tumbler.
I nod, adrenaline surging through me, and make my way over to Krista. As soon as I reach for her, she shies away and turns her back. I grab on to her bicep and pull her to me. My lips find the shell of her ear and I whisper into it. “Trust me, sweet girl.”
Then, I guide her out of the living room and toward the stairs without sending a glance my father’s way. She stumbles up the steps, but I’m there to keep her from falling. Soon, we’re in my room and I’m shutting the door. Once I’ve locked it, I smile at her.
“You’re so beautiful,” I praise. I know I sound like a fucking fool. I’m not exactly Casanova with the girls, but it’s the truth. Underneath all the dirt and bravery, she’s really pretty. Her lips are full and pink. I love how slender and pale her neck is—I crave to mark it up with my teeth. My dick reacts to the mental image, causing the heat of embarrassment to singe my skin.
“Untie me,” she orders.
I frown, disappointed in her not acknowledging my compliment, and motion for her to turn around. “Don’t try and run away. Dad’ll end this as quickly as it started if you do. Play along with me and when the time is right, I’ll get you out of here. But you have to trust me, Krista.”
“If that’s your way of asking me to go steady, I’m going to have to pass. Your family is a touch too dysfunctional for my taste,” she snaps and wiggles her purple fingers at me.
I sigh because there isn’t any response to what I already know. With a grunt, I drop to my knees behind her and start to work at the knots at her wrists. Her ass is perfect and I’m overcome with the strong urge to kiss it.
“How old are you?”
She huffs. “Almost nineteen.”
My eyebrows knit together as I wonder what made them pick up a girl who wasn’t young like the others. “Don’t tell my dad that. You’re seventeen like me.”
She doesn’t respond. The moment I’ve loosened her wrists, she slips out of my grasp and runs to the other side of my bed. Her hand is free from the bindings in an instant and she snatches my bedside lamp up.
“Stay away from me!” she hisses and casts a wary glance at my bedroom window.
I shake my head at her as I stand. “Put the lamp down. And you’ll eat pavement if you jump from that window. Let me handle this, beautiful.”
“Stop calling me that!”
Another pang of disappointment washes through me. “Please just put it down. If he comes in here and sees you like this, he won’t be as nice as me. Let me figure out a way to get you out of here.”
Ignoring me, she throws the lamp at me but it doesn’t go very far, since it’s still plugged in, and lands on the bed. She’s fiddling with the window by the time I reach her. My arms wrap around her and I pin her naked back to my chest.
“Stop,” I order. Having her bare flesh pressed against my suit has my dick hardening. She’s dirty, but a faint scent of lotion—something unfamiliar to me—floods my senses. It smells fresh and clean. It’s a direct contrast of the girl wiggling in my arms.
“Let go of me!” she shrieks. “Are you hard right now?!”
Her words have me clenching my eyes closed. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “No,” I lie and wrangle her over to the bed. “I told you to stop moving.”
She cries out when I tackle her onto the bed. Her body is beneath mine and I have to look away from her wild eyes, so I don’t go crazy with the need to thrust into her. Her thrashing is only serving to make me more excited.
“If he thinks I can be a man, he’ll leave me be. So just go along with this and he’ll leave us alone. I’ll get you out of here. Trust me, you want me fucking you and not him. He’s a cruel bastard.”
Her body trembles, but resignation courses through her. “Don’t hurt me.”
Grinning, I slowly pull one hand from beneath her and stroke a blonde strand from her eyes. “I would never hurt you.”
I lean forward and press a soft kiss to her lips. I’d kissed a girl named Julia at summer camp because the other kids dared us. After what was the most dizzying and exhilarating moment in my life, she laughed at me and told everyone I tasted like cucumbers. Something tells me this kiss will be better. Krista won’t belittle me because she needs me to be her hero.
I’ll be her fucking hero.
“He’s probably listening on the other side,” I whisper to her. “Get it together for me, sweet girl.”
Her eyes well with tears and she nods. “Okay.”
I reluctantly release her and right the lamp back on the table while keeping my eyes on hers. Her perky tits bounce with each nervous breath she takes. When I shed my jacket, her eyes widen with fear.
“I. Won’t. Hurt. You.”
She nods again and tears her gaze from me as I undress. My dick is nothing to be ashamed of and I want her to see it. I want her to see I’m all man—not a wimp like my dad and his friends say. Her curiosity wins out because she once again flits her eyes over to me. I watch with pleasure as she skims over my body with a look of interest.
Once I’m fully naked, I crawl onto the bed beside her. I’m not sure what to do with her, but I know what my dad expects. He is going to want me to take her. Hard. The way he and his repulsive friends do. And once he takes his turn, I’ll make him sorry. I’ll save her from this hellhole and we’ll go somewhere. Together.
“I have a confession,” I say with a smile as I tenderly stroke her taut belly.
She shudders at my touch but regards me with pinched brows.
I can’t look at her when I say it. “I’m …a, um,” I struggle, my father’s taunts echoing in my head. “I’m a virgin. I know how sex works, though, so you don’t have to worry about me putting it in your ass by accident …like they said,” I rush out and then snap my mouth shut. So much for not making a stupid ass out of myself.
Her eyes flicker to mine. “We don’t have to do this,” she murmurs. “We can pretend.”
Groaning in frustration, I run a shaky hand through my hair. I hadn’t thought of that and now I feel foolish that I’m three seconds from losing my load against her naked thigh. I need to fix this. “What I mean is, I have had sex.” My eyes clamp closed and I hate the way my cheeks burn with shame. “It’s just been—“
Her eyes widen. “It’s just been what?”
A heavy sigh rushes out of me. God, why do I have to be such a fuck up? I push myself up and turn my back on her, sitting on the side of the bed, my head hanging between my legs.
I hear the bed shift, and after a second, she’s sitting next to me.
“Hey, are you okay?”
I shake my head and let out a bitter laugh—a laugh that’s far from funny. “My dad …he used to force me,” I mutter. Our eyes meet and her concerned, furrowed eyebrows motivate me to continue. “He used to force me to do things a dad shouldn’t do with his kid.” There. I said it. I drop my gaze to the floor and fixate on the carpet to avoid her gaze. I’ve confessed and now it’s hanging in the air between us—dirty and dark but no longer hidden. And, although I can’t stand the thought of looking over at her, at seeing the pity probably in her eyes, it feels good to get it out. To share it with someone. I’ve held it in for all these years. His filthy secret.
“I’m so—”
I jolt and glare at her. “I don’t need your pity.”
“Did I say felt fucking sorry for you?” she snaps, but then flashes me a small smile. “What I was going to say was that I’m sorry your dad’s an asshole. People like us deserve better than the lot that’s given to us.”
People like us.
Abused. Beaten. Molested. Hated.
My chest aches from her words and I lie back down on the bed. “Uh…”
A pound on the door saves me from the mortifying moment.
“Yeah?” I bellow.
Krista scrambles to sprawl out next to me on the bed and flashes a quick smile at me as she tenderly runs her fingers along my chest. “We don’t deserve this,” she whispers. “We’ll get out of here. There’s a whole wide world out there for people like us—a world where we get to decide our fate.”
Such a concept is mind-blowing. A world without a greedy, sick, manipulative father sounds pretty good to me.
“Did you fuck her yet?” he demands, interrupting my thoughts.
I grit my teeth and say the words I hate myself for saying. “Yes, Dad.”
His laugh is demented on the other side of the door. I can hear the key turning in the lock and soon his giant frame fills the doorway. My entire body quakes at seeing him in my room after so long. His eyes lazily skim over us and he shakes his head.
“Nice try, Gabriel. Fuck her. I’m going to watch.”
She whines, but I run my fingers over her stomach in a way I hope soothes her.
“I can’t do it with you in here,” I growl and my jaw clenches.
He smirks as he sits in my desk chair. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve watched you come.”
The room spins as flames of embarrassment engulf me. I force out the things he’s done to me—the things my body did that were out of my control—and I quiver with hate.
“Fuck you,” I snap.
He laughs, but thankfully doesn’t respond. “Just fuck the girl and we’re all good, son.”
I roll myself on top of her and my lips graze along her ear. “I’ll be so gentle. I swear. Please let me so I can get you out of here.” My words are soft and nearly inaudible.
Her slight nod is enough, and I waste no time. Our lips meet again and this time she lets me kiss her like I kissed Julia from summer camp. Krista tastes sweet, like gummy bears, and I want to suck on her tongue all night. My kiss must turn her on because she untucks her legs from beneath me and wraps them around my hips. The heat of her pussy pressed against my aching dick is too much. I want inside of her so bad, but I don’t want to rush this.
“Just hurry,” she begs.
I groan with disappointment and sit up slightly. Using my hand, I stroke myself for a second. Blindly, I poke at her opening and am met with tight resistance.
“Wrong hole,” she bites out.
Dad laughs from behind me and I nearly lose my hard-on. “I’m sorry,” I grit out, overcome with shame. I move the tip of my cock up a couple of inches.
She squirms and spreads her legs further as if to help me find the right place. Her pussy feels dry, not at all like what I’d imagined it would feel like, and I’m still having trouble pushing it into her. My dick is practically weeping with need and it causes it once again to slide between her ass cheeks.
“Jesus,” she whimpers and grips me. I nearly go blind with bliss. Letting go of the embarrassment of her having to put me inside her, I allow her to guide me to the right place. As soon as the thick head of my dick makes it past the dry opening, I easily slide the rest of the way in. My dick throbs with the need to come. I hold still for a moment, so I don’t lose my load right away.
I fall back against her and try to kiss her, but she keeps her lips pressed together. I’m humiliated that she’s treating me like I’m the villain. With gritted teeth, I thrust into her as hard as I can. She yelps, and it dizzies me. I do it again and again, her small moans driving my need. I’m about to explode at any second.
“Stop.”
Dad’s harsh command has me halting and jerking my angry gaze over my shoulder. “The fuck, why?”
He rises from his seat and stalks over to the side of the bed. “Hurt her.”
My cock begins to soften as I shake my head. “No.”
Fuck my life. His salacious glare confirms that he knows he’s got me. “Fucking hurt her or I will.”
She whimpers again, and I gape at him in horror. “No.”
He pulls his 9 mm from his slacks and points it at her. “Now.”
The need to rescue her from his bullet wins over and I do the only thing that feels right. I slide my hand to her throat and grip it. She immediately clutches my wrist and claws at me, her eyes wide with an unspoken plea. Instead of releasing her, I hold her tighter. I’m saving her. If I don’t do this, he’ll kill her. I won’t suffocate her—just hurt her a little, like he says.
“Perfect,” he says with a growl.
Ignoring him, I thrust deep into her. My cock is hard again and I like the way her body grows limp beneath mine. I like the way her pretty pink lips are slightly purple.
“Will you kiss me now?”
She tries to nod, and I release her neck slightly so I can press my lips to hers. God, she tastes so fucking good. I’m pounding into her like a madman when my dad once again stops me.
“Did you even give her an orgasm?”
I jerk my head to him and once again my cheeks burn. “I, uh…”
“Let her ride you. You can access her clit better that way.”
She gasps for air the second I release her throat to roll onto my back, our bodies still connected. Tears roll down her cheeks, but she doesn’t try to evade me. Her sad eyes meet mine and she places her palms on my chest.
I don’t even know where her clit is. Clumsily, I fumble between her legs until I touch something that makes her clench around my dick. The little nub stands out between her pussy lips and I massage it slowly. She continues to work her hips in a way that sends tingles down my spine while I rub her back in return. It’s fucking sensational.
“Oh, God,” she whimpers, and I realize I’m actually about to make her come. I intensify my efforts and seconds later, she’s shuddering above me and shrieking. Her pussy clamps down around my cock and I explode inside of her.
My eyes slam shut as her body milks me for all I’ve got. It’s the best feeling I’ve ever experienced. I’m still basking in the orgasmic glow when she’s unceremoniously ripped from me.
“My turn.”
I gape, too stunned to move, when he pushes her over the end of the bed. His dick is out, and he spreads her cheeks apart before slamming into her. She screams in pain, her eyes finding mine in panic.
“Stop!” I roar and rise to my knees ready to attack him.
He grunts and waves his gun at me before shoving it against the back of her skull. “I’m not finished fucking her tight ass yet.”
She once again begs me with her eyes and I see red. Krista is mine to make love to. Not fucking his! I’ve made a promise to myself I’ll save her. I won’t let him ruin one more person. When I launch myself at him with a hate-filled scream, a bang echoes around the room. Something warm splatters my thigh and I nearly pass out.
No!
In a moment of uncontrolled fury, I tackle him off of her and wrestle him to the ground. The gun is still in his hand, but when I stomp on his throat with the heel of my foot, he groans and releases it. Once I snatch it from his uncoordinated drunk grip, I stand and tower over him.
My gaze travels over to the unmoving body of Krista and I swallow down the bile in my throat. Leaving him choking on the floor, I rush over to her to check her pulse. I quickly ascertain that she won’t be coming back from the deathly gunshot to her head. There is no pulse. She’s dead. Fucking dead. I promised her I’d saved her and I didn’t deliver. I am a goddamned pussy.
“Awww,” he rasps out from behind me. “What’re you going to do, boy?”
I growl and aim the gun at his cock. This man has done nothing but take and take from me. Well, now I’m the one taking whatever the hell I want. And right now, I want his pain. Another bang and he’s howling for a God he’s never worshipped to save him. Yeah fucking right.
“Fuck you.”
I don’t know if his life flashes before his eyes, but mine certainly flashes before mine.
Bitter images of a shattered childhood. A mother who once loved me—who used to take me to the zoo or the children’s museum while Dad was away on business trips to offer a tiny bit of normalcy for her son. But my father’s fists eventually ruined all that was good in her life, so she drank away the pain. Until the day she gathered the courage to save herself. She left me behind though. With a monster. A father who never hugged me. Never took me to Little League practice. Never loved me.
Never gave a flying fuck.
With a roar of over ten years’ worth of pain ripping from my chest, I unload the rest of the bullets into his chest and skull. I keep pulling the trigger, even once the magazine is empty, unable to stop the outpouring of emotions that are flooding through me. He deserves more than death—he deserves hell. When the red haze of hate finally lifts, I watch with morbid satisfaction as the blood—crimson and thick—around his ruined body seeps into the expensive carpet. My chest is heaving, I’m dripping in sweat, and the room reeks of a pungent coppery odor of both a monster and his last victim.
“Who’s the pussy now, old man?” I mutter to his corpse.
I take one last look at poor, bloody Krista before turning back to him. With all the disgust and hate from a decade of his punishments rushing through me, I spit on him and then kick his body.
It’s finally over.
And one thing is for fucking sure.
I’m not weak.
Not anymore.
Gabe’s book coming summer 2016!!!