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The Girl

A Young Girl's Hope

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The story you are about to read contains mature language and themes. By choosing to read this piece, you agree that you are 18 or older and do not object to such content. 

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A young girl of only sixteen, with no love or care from home. Only knowing anger and hate, parents who never wanted her, she runs. She thinks she'll get all she truly needs, if she does as they say. She seeks comfort from all the wrong people.

“Do you love me?” she pleads to the man she hardly knows, envisioning that she's finally found the one.

“Of course I do, my pretty girl,” he croons at her, knowing full well he doesn't. He plans to trick her out to all his friends for weed and speed.

She puts her faith in him, opening up to him. Believing him when he says, "Trust me, this bump will make you feel like magic." She complies, she takes the bump and injects herself with a rush of drugs.

Consumed by the poison, she is high as kite, when she is taken by him. He ravishes her body. She gives him her virginity because she thinks it is what he wants, feeling no pleasure from what he does to her.

She doesn't care, though. She can't feel it, not when she's so high. She likes this place. She knew she could trust him. So what if he fucked her, what was she holding onto it for? What good was it? He said he loved her; he wouldn't lie to her. He said, “Trust me.”

When she refused to fuck other men at first, he got angry, threaten to leave her, claiming she never loved him. She caved, giving into what Daddy wants. She wants him happy, to keep her. He says he loves her, and now fucks anyone he wants her to, never getting anything from it, except knowing it makes her daddy happy.

Soon, he begins to do as he planned and starts to whore her out. Endless men fucking her in all her holes, making her feel wanted, if used. She's giving them something that no one else will. Each time they tell her how good she feels, how much they need her.

It makes her “daddy” happy. A name he requires her to call him now. She doesn't mind, though. If it makes him happy, she will call him Daddy. What harm does it do?

He keeps supplying her with the meth, to keep her high. It's where she wants to be. “Bump me, Daddy, I beg you,” she whines, and he complies, only after she has reached her quota.

“Fuck one more, babydoll, then you can have a bump. This shit isn't free,” he growls out at her when she gets too whiny.

Not wanting to upset him, she does. Fucking just one more, which turns into seven. Sometimes she gets up to fifteen men a night. She doesn’t know where they come from. She questioned Daddy once about it, but that only made him angry again.

She notices Daddy gets angry a lot. He starts slapping her around; telling her she deserves it, she needs to be put in her place. When she acts up too much, he locks her in the bedroom, shackling her to the bed, so men can come and freely do as they please. When Daddy is really angry, the men tend to get rougher.

They stop telling her how good she feels, how much they need her. They tell her all she is good for is a fuck, and she isn't even all that good anymore. Her cravings for more bumps grow, needing the escape of the words that linger in her head, long after the men vanish.

“Daddy, please, please more, I beg. I promise to be a good girl, I'll do anything you want,” she pleads.

He agrees, sending her out in the cold to walk the streets, to earn her keep. She dresses to show off far too much, fucking, sucking or even jerking anyone who wants it. Some are nice, giving her small bumps, as long as she promises not to tell her daddy they do.

On and on this goes, until one day she realises she has a different kind of bump. One that is forming around her middle. Daddy says she has been a dirty whore and got herself knocked up, that she has to deal with it. If she doesn't, she's on the street.

She pleads with him, “Please let me keep it, I want to keep the baby, Daddy. I'll take care of it.”

“It's not a fucking dog! No, you stupid girl. You won't be able to do your job, to make your keep, if you're busy with that thing. Get rid of it!” he growls, punching her in the face.

Blood pours from her nose, gasping and choking, trying to breathe, She cries, begging for a bump to ease the pain. He gives in, saying she owes him double for this, to go and take care of the other issue first.

The botch doctor who claims to know what he is doing says he can help. That it'll be a long lost memory in no time. He has no real medicine, offering her another bump.

But something goes horribly wrong. The doctor saw the blood gushing; he didn't care. He is scared. He runs, leaving her there. Slowly and painfully, she bleeds to death.

All she is now is a dead girl in a box, with a number for her name. Case #7714.
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