Summary: Reeda sucks dick for drugs, and then she doesn't. A pre-sequel to "Hanging out till the end" [Reeda] "Ugh, this is less than half." Why I am even here? Like, dude won't fucking give me this week's stuff for less than half. But gosh I'm SO on edge! I hate exams so fucking much. Fucking Trish too. And ALLLLLL these fucking stairs too! FUCK Why does he need to live on the top fucking floor? FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF-- Okay, okay. Calm down, girl. You'll uh, negotiate. That sounds reasonable. I'm a p cool chick afterall, I'll just bat my lashes or something. If he's a square I'll just put out. FUCK I just need my fix so fucking bad... Somewhere deep down I'm embarrassed, ashamed that I've allowed myself to get into this situation to begin with. Like, normal people don't have to weigh the chances of flashing their tits for some druggie burnout. ...But that's me alright. Ugh, last fucking staircase. Fucking finally. ... Well I don't care. It's not even my fault that I don't have the money anyway. If Dad wasn't a cheap dick and he'd ACTUALLY put up his half for my tuition fees I wouldn't be having this problem. I'd have my driver's license then too, it's his fault I failed the first time around. I'm not a bad girl, it's the world that's shitty. Ffff-uh-uhhuck it's SO shitty LIKE OH MY-- I NEED MY FIX With one more step, I make it to the top floor. My body is shaking pretty bad now, and I'm not sure if it's from the exercise alone, or if it's actual honest to God fucking withdrawal. Might as well be, I'm fucking melting over here... Just a few more staps and... Aight, this is the door. Knock. Knock-knock. Knock. Knock-knock. SLAM. I sure fucking hope so that's still the password. This guy is ex-military or something, and he's a paranoid fucker. But he's got the connections. In the half minute it takes him to get to the door I fix my hair and deepen my cleavage, pushing my tits together. Ugh, I fucking hate to do this... Eventually the door opens and this junkie trash looking stego comes out. Eww, he smells fucking horrible. Can't tell if it's his ragged clothes alone - boxers, a torn muscle shirt that once was probably white, and equally torn bathrobes -, or if it's his actual body. [Stego Dude] "Was wondering when you'd turn up. It's Friday already you know." [Reeda] "Yeah, yeah, I had some uh... Monetary issues." [Reeda] "B-but I made sure to come see my pal!" I'm trying my best not to hurl as I force a girly sing-along voice. It doesn't even make sense with what I'm saying. I don't fucking care. Just fucking GIVE ME the fucking STUFF already! Except this dickwad starts counting the bills one by one, fucking rhinorex motherfucker I swear... [Stego Dude] "This isn't even--" [Reeda] "YEAH. I KNOW." I snap at him angrily, deflating a second later as a cold shiver runs all over me. Still, I feel like I'm gonna melt into the floor. [Reeda] "Just uh... Please, I'll..." [Reeda] "I'll pay double next week, just please..." [Reeda] "...I need it..." I can see he's considering his options. Please just fucking gimme the stuff... [Reeda] "...I'll do anything..." Again, as the words leave my mouth I feel the shame of what I've been reduced to, carrying favor with a methhead. I'm very glad none of my friends are here to see me like this. Trish, Fang... Anon... But I just... W-what should I--? [Stego Dude] "Anything, huh?" [Stego Dude] "Well come on inside then, we'll figure it out..." That leery fucking wink he's giving me tells me everything about his intentions. Shit, how old is this guy anyway? Fifty? The quite normal, educated, popular and respected girl inside tells me, BEGS ME to run away. To turn heel and scram. But then... Then I won't get my fix... I'm frozen on the spot, unable to leave but unwanting to go ahead. That is, till the guy puts one of his disgusting hands on my shoulder, firmly pushing me forward. His nails are all yellow and bent, dirty just like his scales. And yet as if in a trace, I allow him to close and lock the door behind me. I no longer think of escaping. I'll have to do... Anything... Anything he wants. And really, I deserve it too. I may not look the part, but I'm a drug addict all the same. This is what becomes of my shitty fucking choices. But DAMN I can smell the sweet sweet carfe from here! Shit, this guy must have a fucking truckload of the stuff. The smell alone puts me at ease, appealing to my more carnal urges. As such I don't question as the dude leads me to a stained, discolored armchair, kneeling me down as he sits in it. I don't have to be told what he wants me to do. Not like I've never done it, but uh, at least I liked those guys. A tiny morsel of panic stirs within me, but it's overcame fast as the dude hands me a bottle from a nearby table. [Stego Dude] "Aye girl, this is on the house." [Stego Dude] "But you better fucking make up for it!" With shaking hands I take the bottle, distracting myself with downing half of it straight while he unceremoniously pulls his boxers down. My mind gets hazy immediately, senses numbing. Oh fuck, I needed this... Yeah sure, I'll suck his cock, I don't fucccking care anymore! I NEEDED THIS I take another huge gulp, just barely registering as the dude grabs into my hair. What I do fucking register is his dick sliding in between my lips and into my mouth. Like, a tub of meat in itself is pretty hard not to notice, but God damn it tastes something awful. It bothers me kinda, but I guess it's fine. He looks like he tastes. Or uh, he tastes like he looks? Whatever. I let him pump my head up and down, every now and again pulling up to take another swig from the stuff. After a while the carfe taste overcomes the shitdick taste, and from there on it's kinda tolerable. Wish I wasn't sucking dick tho... Like I wonder what my pal Anon could be doing. Anon has a dick too, like, I'm fairly certain he does. Is he actually fucking Fang with that monkey cock? I kinda wonder if-- Oh hold on I'm deepthroating. ... Dude, shit, let me breathe! I smack his leg with the near empty bottle and he gives me a breather. Yeah so anyway, I wonder if Anon and Fang are a thing. Anon is kinda cute. I bet his dick would be harder. Would he like if-- Hold on again, cock in throat. Oh fuck, he's being pretty rough. Wait, is he gonna actually-- Aw fuck he is! DAMN this taste is just fucking horrible. Jesus Christ dude let me breathe already! I smack him with the bottle again, but it takes him some time to let me go. Fucker I hope you enjoyed it. Yeah so what was I thinking about? Eeeeeeh, whatever. Let's just knock myself out, shit I'm so tired. This has been a long week. With that I down the rest of the stuff, numbing my tongue and throat to the awful bitter taste of stego-semen. Shit man, dude must live off of a pineapple plantation or something. Aight anyyyywaaaayyyyy, Imma fukken sleep... * * *