Chapter 1 Miley sat spacing out as her teacher droned on. It was her final year of high school, only a month remained, and she couldn't be happier to get out of the place. She had always been quiet, so she didn't really make friends easily, but more than that, she hated everyone in that God-forsaken hell hole. Today was worse than usual, too. She had a lot on her mind, and couldn't even remotely pay attention to what was being taught.
Her mother had just gotten a new boyfriend, Carl, and the guy was a total asshole, to put it lightly. She couldn't even be in the house with him without him screaming at her, and worst of all, her mother appreciated it. She thought he was a Godsend, and constantly thanked him for giving her daughter the much needed discipline she deserved.
She thought the guy should win the fucking father of the year award or something. Miley had been spending more and more time away from home, either with her boyfriend or just out walking somewhere, usually the park.
The bell rang. Miley sighed, she just wanted to go home and fall into bed. She hadn't gotten much sleep the past week, and was dreadfully tired, but she knew Carl would be there. Oh well, she thought as she sat up and followed the heard of students out of the classroom, she would just go over to pool hall and see if Mike was around. Miley didn't have a car, so she pretty much walked wherever she went, or took the bus. She used to have one, but the piece of shit broke down practically the week after she got it, and rather than waste money trying to fix it, she just threw the whole thing away.
Well that's what she said, what she actually did was push it back into the woods behind her house and made a sort of secret fort out of it. "Hey babe, my good luck charm has finally arrived," Mike shouted to her as she walked into the smoky bar. He had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and held a pool stick in his hands. He was older than Miley, about twenty-five. He wasn't particularly good looking, but she thought his scraggly hair and constant twelve o'clock shadow were sexy, not to mention the dangerous air he had about him.
The other man he was playing with was a little bit older, bald, and gave her a lecherous grin as she walked in. Miley glared at him in disgust and nodded at Mike before she went to sit by Hobbs and Joe at a little beer covered table. Miley knew before she even sat down that Joe was stoned, there had never been one occasion in the short time since she had known him that he wasn't stoned.
Mike sauntered over to her table, setting a beer down in front of her, and taking the cigarette out of his mouth and placing it between her lips, "Hey babe, lend me some money. I just need a little so I can win back what I lost." Miley had only been dating Mike for a week and a half, but she had known him for a while longer, only casually, though, they hadn't really been friends.
"I don't have any on me," she lied. Miley hardly ever had money, and she wasn't willing to give it to Mike so he could lose it to the bald guy.
She blew out a stream of smoke at Mike's departing back, "Fucking stingy bitch," she heard him murmur as he walked away. Miley briefly contemplated breaking up with him, but then forgot about the insult, instead thinking about what had been on her mind since she had started dating him: sleeping with him. Miley was a virgin, and not because she was saving herself because of some preteen notion of prince charming or anything, she just hadn't gotten around to it yet.
So when she started dating Mike, she already knew that he would be her first. She basically just wanted to get it over with, her first time, and Mike was hot and older. The only question that remained was when. Mike was constantly trying to get in her pants, but Miley kept putting it off, thinking she would do it tomorrow.
But she knew she couldn't put if off forever, though. Tonight, she decided in her mind, finishing her drink in one final swallow. "Hey Hobbs, get me another beer will you?" she asked sweetly to the man sitting beside her. She didn't want get drunk, only a pleasant buzz.
He grunted and got up to get her another beer. She had known Hobbs and Joe for as long as she had known Mike, and though he called them his friends, they were more of like his sidekicks. They always did whatever he said, and Miley soon discovered by the fact that she was Mike's girlfriend; they would basically do what she said too.
She finished her second beer and could already feel a bit of a buzz, and she decided to just have one more. "Shit!" she heard Mike exclaim, throwing the pool stick on the ground, "Fuck!" "To bad for you," the man said, towering over Mike, "Pay up." "Okay, here's the thing," Mike said nervously, backing up until he hit the edge of the pool table. "The thing? The thing?" the man's voice was rising, "There is no thing, you little fucker.
I want my money." Two men who had been sitting at a table by the juke box seemed to notice what was going on, and they stood up to stand next to their friend. All three men were covered in muscles, and looked particularly dangerous. Mike knew he didn't have a chance against them, especially since all he had to back him up were the scrawny Hobbs and Joe.
Mike was sweating bullets now. "Maybe we can work something out?" he suggested desperately. The man seemed to be about to quickly deny any compromise, when he gave a quick glance over at Miley. She was too drunk to really read any meaning in that, and was only upset when their voices grew to low for her to hear what was going on. Then for some reason, the men all of a sudden left, walking out the back of the bar.
"What happened?" Miley asked curiously when Mike walked over to her. He smiled nervously. "Nothing. We worked something out." She nodded drunkenly, "Let's go," she told him. "Wait," Mike said suddenly, "Come with me, I have something to show you." "What?" "Just come with me," Mike insisted, pulling her arm toward the back of the bar. Miley stumbled after him drunkenly.
"I don't think we are supposed to be back here," She protested as he opened a back room. "Just get in," he said shoving her inside. "What's going on?" she asked, even as the lights turned on and she recognized the three men Mike had been arguing with just minutes before.
"What's going on?" She asked again, panic in her voice as she tried to go for the door, but Mike blocked her way. "Listen Miley, I didn't have a choice.
They were going to beat me up," he said. "What are you talking about, I want to leave," she yelled trying to shove past him. "If you love me you'll do this," Mike said blocking her way, covering a hand over her mouth when she would have screamed, "All you have to do is give them blow jobs, it's not like you have to fuck them or anything." Miley felt her heart racing, and she probably would have collapsed if Mike weren't holding her up, how could he do this to her? Just then there was a loud pounding on the door.
"Get out of here," Mike shouted, but it didn't stop. He shoved her back to one of the men, who held her immobile with one arm and kept his hand pressed tightly over her mouth with the other. "What?" Mike asked as he opened the door just a crack. The man on the other side, however, shoved it open all the way. Miley recognized him right away, Nick, one of the meat heads that went to her school. He was tall and brunette, so handsome he was almost pretty.
He was on the swim team, and his body had a lean muscular look. Nick seamed to asses the situation for a moment, then he relaxed and leaned against the door frame.
"So how much does he owe you?" he asked casually to the man holding Miley. "What's it to you?" the big man asked Nick threateningly, and if Nick was at all apprehensive about the situation, he sure as hell didn't show it. "I might be willing to make a deal," Nick pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, opening it up, "How much does he owe you?" "Three hundred bucks." "Well, here's three fifty," he pulled the bills out of his wallet, handing them out to the man.
One of his partners took it, counting the bills quickly. "Now why would you give me three hundred and fifty dollars to pay of some other guy's debt?" the man holding Miley asked suspiciously. "Maybe I want her for myself," Nick said nodding to the girl in his arms. The man let out a laugh and tossed her over to him, she fell into his arms like a little doll.
She didn't like the way the men were tossing her around like some toy. "You got yourself a deal, kid," he said walking out of the back room still laughing, followed by his companions. When they were gone, Mike turned to her. "Miley-" he started to say, in a coaxing voice, like she would actually forgive him. Nick cut him off, though. "Now listen up," he growled, "I bought her fair and square, so I don't want to see you coming anywhere near her again.
You go it?" Mike seemed a little taken back, but nodded his head in compliance. Nick gave him a look of contempt before leading Miley out of the bar. She turned to him once they were in the parking lot, not really knowing what to say. "Thanks," she eventually spurt out. She felt guilty for all those times she had thought of him as a meat head, he had just saved her.
"Don't thank me," Nick said leading her over to his car, "I meant what I said. I bought you because I want you for myself." "What?" Miley squeaked out in a little voice. "You heard me, now get in the car," he opened the door for her, waiting for her to do as she was told.
Miley backed off, shaking her head. What did he mean he wanted her for himself? Nick sighed and grabbed her by the arm, firmly but not enough to hurt, and shoved her onto the seat. It had been a long day, and Miley was emotionally and physically exhausted, and she let him put her in the car despite her wariness. Nick ran to the other side and started the ignition.
"You're not drunk are you?" he asked as she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, "I mean, you're not going to throw up or anything like that?" Miley shook her head, but didn't open her eyes. Her arms hung limply at her sides, and she felt herself drifting off to blissful sleep.
Someone was shaking her, trying to take her away take her from her warm cocoon into the cold air. Miley fought against the intruder, but he eventually won and she was awake. "Where am I?" she asked, still in the dregs of sleep. "I got a room," Nick said as he pulled her pliant body out of the car and slammed the door. Over his shoulder, she could see the blinking sign of a run down motel.
"I want to go home," she said, trying to turn around and open the car door again. "No you don't," Nick answered as he picked her up and carried her the few feet from their parking spot to a room. He set her down while he put the key in the handle and turned on the light, illuminating one king size bed, dirty carpet, and an old T.V. He pushed her inside. Miley went and laid down on the bed, maybe if she fell asleep, he would just forget the whole thing and leave her there.
No such luck, however, when he walked over to the bed and stood over her. Kneeling down where her knees were folded over the edge of the bed, he placed his hands on either side of her and spoke softly. "So, were you going to go down on those guys for your boyfriend if I didn't show up?" Miley struggled to sit up, "I was not!" she said, offended, and tried to get out of the arms that were trapping her legs.
"But you are going to sleep with me now?" he asked.
She shook her head in denial, pushing at his shoulders, which didn't budge an inch. "I wasn't." "Then why did you come and lay down on the bed so invitingly," he asked, pushing her once again onto her back. Miley shook her head vehemently, which only succeeded in making it pound, "I just wanted to sleep," she denied. Nick unzipped her sweatshirt in one full move. "I don't think that's it," he said arrogantly as he started to unbutton her shirt. "I'm so tired," Miley told him lethargically, barely even noticing what he was doing until she felt the cool air against her bare stomach.
Nick stared down at the soft, white skin of her breasts, still hidden by a lacy bra. Her stomach was flat, but not muscular, her ribs poking out as she breathed.
He didn't answer, instead pushing up her bra so her breasts fell free. They weren't too big, but nice and firm. Her nipples puckered as they were exposed to the air.
"Mmm," Nick murmured deep in his throat as he let one rough thumb stroke over the tip of her breast. He bent down and kissed where his thumb had been just moments before, her hard nipple just slipping in between his lips. The fleeting question of why she wasn't fighting him flew through Miley's head, but she simply ignored it.
It just felt so good to simply lie there. He placed warm, dry kisses between her breasts, on her stomach. He unzipped her pants, pulling them out from under her body and off her dangling feet. He kissed the newly exposed flesh just above her panties. Miley's breath was uneven and restless, as Nick touched her where no man had ever before. He pressed his mouth over her cloth, covered pussy, and her panties became soaked through, reaching his lips.
He further saturated her underwear as he gently licked her with his wet tongue. Miley was lost now.
She wasn't herself, wasn't even in a material world. She was an apparition, a ghost, floating through the dreamy streets of heaven. Her panties floated off her translucent body, and her pussy continued to be accosted by endless strokes of ecstasy. Then suddenly, there was something inside her, hard, unyielding, uncomfortable. Miley breathed out, barely more than a whisper.
"Please," she said a little louder this time, "stop—" "Don't give me that, you're loving this," Nick told her, pushing all the way into her. "Ahhh," Miley screamed as he broke her virginity. "Shit," Nick said in genuine surprise as he looked down at her pained face. "Look," and she noticed his expression for the first time that night was unsure.
"I'm sorry," the words were hesitant on his lips, as though he was unsure if that was what really he wanted to say.
Miley tightly shut her eyes, she couldn't look at him. She didn't even know him, yet they were in the most intimate situation between a man and a woman. She didn't know how she thought she could just do this casually with Mike.
She felt vulnerable, and exposed. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. "It'll be okay," he said softly.
He started to move in and out of her tender flesh, and despite herself, Miley started to feel her pleasure rising again. She didn't want to feel it, was too embarrassed. "Stop," her voice was a tiny squeak. He kept thrusting in and out of her, her breasts jiggling. Two tiny tears escaped the corners of Miley' tightly closed eyes as she orgasmed. She clenched her fists at her side. Nick spilled his seed into her tight, petite body beneath him.
Miley was just a wisp of a thing, her body like a little china dish in juxtapose to him. Her face was screwed up like a little rabbit, her teeth squeezing her bottom lip tight. "You're okay, Miley," she heard him say hoarsely. "Just—" but he trailed off. Suddenly she felt him slip an arm under her back and lift her just high enough to yank the cover from under her and place it back down, over her body. Miley was glad for the cover.
She turned on her side away from him, drawing her knees up against her belly. She heard him pacing around a bit behind her, but then after about ten minutes, or maybe it was an hour, he left, shutting the door quietly. Miley sat in the back of the classroom, her hands wrapped up in the long sleeves of her hoodie. She thought about yesterday. She hadn't woken up in time for school, hadn't even woken up until late in the afternoon. When she had gotten home it was awful.
Her mom was outraged, said she was worried that she had stayed out all night. Had watched her stepfather beat her with his belt. The pink welts still stung a little, but not too bad. What she was more worried about was seeing Nick.
Would he talk to her? Miley couldn't decide what would be worse, him saying something or him not saying anything. Nick walked into the room, looking particularly refreshed and happy.
A lock of his brown hair fell carelessly on his forehead. He was walking and talking to some junior intently; he didn't even glance her way. Miley stared at the back of his head all period, and was a bit concerned that he would suddenly turn around and catch her staring, but she might as well have not even worried about it, because he didn't look at her at all, not even once. It was like any other day, like nothing had even happened.
That was what she wanted, though, wasn't it? To get on with her life, forget the whole thing. No. For some inexplicable reason she wanted him to acknowledge her. She wanted him to take responsibility in some way, she didn't know how, but some way. She wanted him to look at her. Without even thinking about what she was doing, Miley stood up and in one swift motion, flipped her desk over. Her books went with it, smashed at awkward angles beneath her desk and the chair of the person in front of her.
At the loud crash, all heads turned to her. Miley stared right at Nick, who was looking at her with the same curious, dispassionate expression as the rest of them. "Miley?" the teacher asked, wanting an explanation. Not having one, or at least one that she wanted to give, she turned and walked out of the room. The hallway was empty, and she made her way to a back door. Leaving through it, though not more than a few feet, she leaned against the scratchy brick wall.
The tears were coming uncontrollably now. And all she could think was that she never cried, not when her step dad beat her, not last night when Nick had forced himself on her, or at least not enough to count, not even when her dad had died. Why was she crying now? Miley felt arms go around her and she was being dragged up against a strong chest.
He smelled good, not like the the sickening smell of cologne, but like a fresh, clean soap. Miley cried into the shoulder that was offered so chivalrously to her as hands ran gently over her back. Calming down a bit, she pulled back, and saw Nick looking down at her. She didn't know who she thought it was hugging her, but Nick was the last person she wanted to see at that moment. "Go away," she said on a sob, shoving him back from her. "Miley," there was a note in his voice that she couldn't quite decipher, almost like regret.
"Leave, I never want to see you again," Miley started crying all over, falling to her knees, she sobbed into her hands, thinking about nothing but her own misery. She didn't hear him go, but the next time she looked up, he was gone.