I panic something fierce. Sweat beads on my brow, dripping down the sides of my face. I even try to pull away from Bridget, to get free from her and make a run for it.
For a girl, Bridget has quite the strong grip. I don’t manage to worm my way out of it. I could, I bet, if I really tried to and put some force into it. That would be far too noticeable, however, and draw the wrong kind of attention to me.
My heart leaps out of my chest when I lay eyes on what awaits us. There, parked at the side of the road, positioned dead smack in front of the school, is her ride. I’ve seen it before. Everyone at school has. Even for a place like this, it sticks out like a sore thumb.
Her car is beautiful. The sleek, black metal remains absolutely spotless despite daily use. Of course, when I say it’s hers, I don’t mean hers personally. It belongs to her family. She doesn’t drive it herself, but instead gets driven around in it by the chauffeur. Such a luxury vehicle must cost a small fortune.
Okay… Maybe this won’t be so bad, or so I tell myself. The lie doesn’t help in the slightest. I still panic, especially as a man gets out of the car upon our approach.
He’s dressed in a fine black suit. While such attire is customary for a driver for one such as her, it also brings less savoury things to mind. Criminal things.
Without a word, the man opens the door for Bridget and, by extension, me. For only a moment, I’m taken aback by the sheer ostentatiousness of the interior. God, everything’s so sleek and modern. There’s plenty of room too. Hell, you could comfortably lie down back here. It’s crazy.
Bridget unceremoniously shoves me inside the car. She’s not the patient girl, I’m quickly learning.
I land on the seats in a sprawling heap. Thankfully, the fall isn’t all that painful thanks to the soft cushions. She crawls in after me, shoving me out of the way to make room for her. Having no choice in the matter, I scramble to make myself comfortable and strap in.
Before I can so much as blink, the doors shut, and the engine purrs to life.
Whelp, I guess this is really happening.
There’s no use struggling, no use panicking. What could I possibly do to avoid the fate that awaits me? I’m a dead man walking.
No amount of blackmail recordings are going to stop her father from having me ‘dealt with’ once he finds out… huh.
My eyes light up in hope. I suppose that’s only if he finds out, which now that I think about it is not guaranteed. She does, after all, have quite the slutty reputation around school. Something, I imagine he’s unaware of.
“Where to, miss?” The driver asks as he pulls out onto the road.
“Home, please.” She speaks with an unexpectedly polite tone. One I’ve never seen her use in the entire time we went to school together.
For once, I’m feeling confident about how this will turn out. As much as it seems I keep screwing up today, lady luck is ever on my side. About damn time.
“He…” Bridget starts, only to turn and look at me as she trails off. It takes me a moment to realise why.
She doesn’t know my fucking name!
What the hell is up with this girl? She did all that in the supply closet, and she has no clue who I am.
“I’m Joseph. It’s nice to meet you, sir.” I introduce myself, not just for his sake or hers, but my own too.
I want to make a good impression. There’s no harm in being polite and getting on his good side. Plus, if her family is really as shady as the rumours say, it could only be useful on the off chance, you know… He’s actually a hardened killer putting on a friendly face. That’s not the kind of guy one would want to piss off accidentally.
“He’s just a guy from school,” Bridget says flatly, as if it’s the most uninteresting thing in the world. Of course, she can’t stop there. She has to go and add on other things. “He’s going to lick my kitty-cat while I do my homework.”
…
“Ah, two birds with one stone. How studious of you, miss.” He laughs softly, but otherwise doesn’t react. Not how I think he should.
While I might sit there, outwardly radiating a sense of calmness, internally I throw a fit.
WHY THE FUCK DID SHE TELL HIM THAT?!
I can’t believe it. This doesn’t make any sense. WHY?
It’s not just her acting so fucking strange either. Why didn’t he have anything more to say about it? Is she such a slut, does her father dote on her so much, that this kind of thing is normal? No, that can’t be the case.
Oh, fuck… Her father!
There’s no way this doesn’t get back to him. I really am dead, now. And there’s no way he will make it a quick and painless one.
And yet, with such a revelation hitting me, I’m overcome with a sense of calmness. There’s only so much one can panic. Eventually you get all panicked out, and have to simply accept what’s coming.
If I’m going to die, then I’m going to do everything I can to enjoy my last moments alive.
Or maybe, I won’t die. Maybe this is all connected. My clear thoughts help me put the pieces of the puzzle together.
Ever since this morning, I’ve had the feeling of wrongness pop up again and again. With it also came these far too strange interactions. First the blowjob, then Derek catching us, now this… This chapter is updated first at g.com.
I don’t think the bully is actually a cuck. There’s no way that’s true; it doesn’t fit his personality at all. So if that’s not the case, then what’s going on? Why did he not react to finding his girlfriend in a supply closet with a pantsless dude?
And now, her driver is barely reacting to the news she’s bringing a guy home to eat her out. Odd.
Everyone is simply far too accepting. It’s almost like they’ve been hypnotised into thinking everything I do is normal. That can’t be the case, though. I’ve not done anything like that, even if such a thing were possible.
Suspicion growing within me, I turn and look at Bridget, the girl at the centre of all this strangeness. My eyes linger on her for more than is comfortable; still I look closely. I’m not sure what I’m trying to find. I’ll know it when I see it, I suppose.
She, of course, notices my intense staring. In a way, she confirms some of my suspicion. She doesn’t glare back at me, doesn’t comment rudely, as would be expected of her.
Instead, she simply says. “Yes, is there something you want?”
I need to know more about what’s going on, and given everything, I figure the best way to find out is just by asking. “What do you, personally, feel about the prospect of me eating you out?”
Under any normal circumstance, she would never so much as humour such a question from someone like me. This isn’t a normal circumstance, though.
“It is what it is.” She shrugs nonplussed.
Huh. That’s not all that helpful. Still, if she answered such a question, will she answer any I ask of her? There’s only one way to find out.
“Does your boyfriend eat you out much?”
“No, never.” She sighs wistfully. “Derek thinks it gay to give head, even to girls”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” I blurt out. “I mean, seriously, how can it be gay for a guy to eat pussy? It’s literal… You know, a pussy! It couldn’t be further from being gay. I mean, come on!”
I don’t mean to get so animated. It just kind of happens. Seriously, though, that opinion is so fucking stupid. So much so that I momentarily forget about the purpose of the question.
What is wrong with that guy?
“I know, right!” Bridget giggles, and sincerely too. It’s not the fake laugh she puts on for her friends.
The sound of her sweet voice is actually kind of soothing when she’s not being all bratty. So much so that I get a little lost in it. That is, until she goes on, saying. “If he was really worried about appearing gay, you’d think he’d be more concerned about how much he likes getting rimjobs.
What…