Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Thrasher Girls VII - "Mormons" Thrasher Girls VII "Mormons" The last time I breathed fresh "free" air, it was like inhaling a trillion little ice cubes, each one cutting my lungs like quantum-sized razor blades. That was in January, before nikki porno and I got busted jacking that herman's car. Eight months later, and it's August, and the air between the front door of Springvale Youth Home and moms' car is hot and wet, just like the air inside the infirmary's laundry. I won't miss that fucking laundry, that's for sure. Even when it was 30 below outside, I'd rather have been freezing my tits off in my room with Jesus-Girl and her Bible Avengers than shaking out wet sheets in the laundry. That's what they did when a girl exercised a little freedom of thought in Gulag Springvale; they'd stick your ass in the laundry and have you unload these huge, monstrosity washing machines and shake out 800 pounds of wet sheets. All water-logged, though, the 800 pounds was more like 3,000 pounds, and the shit coming out of the compartments was over a 1000 degrees. No gloves either - no nothing. The skin used to peel off the sides of my arms in chunks like I was a well-done steak. FUCK THAT SHIT! I did my fucking time. They tried their psych-out, Clockwork Orange, voodoo shit on the little thrasher grl, and she came out -- brain in-fucking-tact! Can't say the same for the body, though. Just my fucking leg, really; too much nerve damage down my spine from the accident they tell me. Slamming 80 miles an hour into an air bag will do that to you, I guess. I'll never walk without a limp again, and on bad days I have to use this aluminum crutch that looks like something out of L.L. Geek Catalog. The crutch is definitely going. I'm going to get nikki p., and we're going to go hardcore thrifting until I find a kick-ass cane, one that goes with being an outlaw. I'm thinking some kind of shiny black deal with a jeweled handle that pulls out into a stiletto. The kind a Bond villainess would whack with. Let's see someone start something with the little gimp chick then. First things first, though, and that means surviving the ride home with moms, the step-Goober and Peanut. Peanut's my little brother, half-brother actually. I can't remember if I've really written about him or moms or the step-Goober before. If I have, I apologize for the redundant redundancy. If I haven't, here's all the data for your hard-drive. Peanut is nine .. wait ten-years-old now. His birthday is in July. I didn't get him anything. Shit! That's something else I've got to do now that I'm sprung. Moms was like 5-months knocked up with the Nut when she and the Goober tripped over the altar. I was in kindergarten. Moms and dads had been busted apart for over a year, each managing their respective affairs almost from the time I'd been born I guess. My first day of kindergarten was also the day moms told me dads was moving out. She'd tried to explain it to me like her and dads had been 'best friends', but now they weren't anymore, so they had to live apart. I kind of understood what was going on, but I was starting school, and nothing really sank in until around Halloween when dads didn't take me trick-or-treating. That's when the Goober appeared on the scene. Instead of dads with his piggy-back rides and big bear hugs I got a big-footed, clumsy dork who made it a point of not touching me at any time. When she was preggers, I once heard mom ask Goobs to lift me into the back of his van because she couldn't manage. He stared at me, stupefied, then barely took my hand and told me I needed to start acting like a big girl. I tried to jump up, but I couldn't, and I fell and scraped my knee. Then he just stood there with an even stupider look on his face while moms came back and lifted me up into the van. I heard them discussing this whole deal later on, and moms asked him why he hadn't lifted me. He'd replied that 'physical contact' between us didn't seem 'appropriate' at that point in our relationship. The funny thing is, I remember actually understanding what he was saying and agreeing with him. I was pissed I'd scraped my knee, but I didn't want him holding me and touching me like dads did. Later that day, I could tell he was still upset by the whole thing, so I went over to him and said: "I'm all right. And you're right, I should be a big girl by now and get in the van myself." From then on, that's exactly what I did, and since that day me and the Goobs kind of have this understanding - he lets me be a big girl and only helps me when I ask him, which is next to never. Moms has picked up on this arrangement, I guess, and she kind of treats me the same way. I make the grades in school and score high on all the Proficiency Tests, and she leaves me to fuck up on my own. She'd handled the visits to the principals and counselors all right, and even gave them a piece of her mind. In moms' opinion, my discipline problems are the fault of an education system, which has no idea how to handle a "brilliant, gifted young lady." She might be right there, really. Even when I was in elementary school, I was always finishing my work way ahead of everyone else, and this was when I'd get in trouble for talking, passing notes, or doodling on my desk. My teachers always tried to solve my 'idle hands' problems with dumping extra work on me, or making me class monitor, or some other bullshit. FUCK THAT! Just because I'm smarter and faster than everyone, I get punished with more work? I just refused to play that game, which sent all the counselors into a tailspin because that's always SUPPOSED to work with smart troublemakers. I guess they could never comprehend that a seven-year-old girl would be able to see through that crap. That's when my ongoing war with the public education system started. Nine grades later, and all the counselors' prophecies had finally turned true. Ronni really is the Bad-Seed, the Antichrist 666, the Whore of fucking Babylon. I felt sorry for moms more than anyone, really. She is so idealistic and so post-70s femme. She really thought if she let me 'do my own thing' while 'accentuating the positive' that I'd eventually outgrow the 'rebellious stage' and mature into a 'self-actualized' young woman without all the 'girlish' weakness and 'phallocratic social conditioning' she always bitched about. Moms only ever said two things to me about sex and drugs. One -- never let drugs or sex control you. Two -- always think of your personal safety first. Another time, she once told me that 'No kick is worth dying for.' It seemed to me now, as I crowded into the backseat of her car, that I'd broken all three of these motherly commandments, and things were probably going to be a lot different between us now. I'd disappointed and embarrassed her, exposed her to all the other moms as a 'bad mother.' Moms has an ego. She should. She's brilliant, successful, and still looks great for a lady her age. She's busted more balls than I can count, and when she speaks her mind EVERYONE in the room listens. I felt bad that I'd tarnished her image. She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve to be judged because of my actions. That wasn't fair. I'd fucked up all on my own. Well, at least one of her kids was turning out right. The Peanut is a great kid. I wish we were closer, but he's just so young, and he has no idea where I'm at in life. When I was around 10, and he was 4, we would play together all the time. I'd baby-sit him, and he would hug me like every chance he got. We haven't hugged since I was 11 and started doing teenage stuff with my friends. He'd ask me to play with him, but I always had something better to do, and then he just quit asking. I kind of want to reach over the backseat and hug him now, but that would just be too weird for both us. Instead, I smile at him, and he smiles back .. well, sort of. He knows I was in trouble, and that I did something wrong, and that I was 'in jail.' No wonder he's scared of me now. "I thought we'd go out to lunch," moms tells us all when we're finally out of the parking lot and headed back to civilization. "Rhonda, do you have anywhere in particular you'd like to go?" Test time. Can ronni re-integrate successfully into the suburban family social dynamic? Asking to just go home so I can lie on my own bed in my own room and try to put the last seven months out of my mind is not an option here. Ronni must demonstrate she can think of other people's feelings aside from her own. "What about Mr. Toads?" I offer, my mind still on the Peanut. Mr. Toads is his favorite restaurant - unlimited pizza and videogames. I also figure the general cacophony will cover up any awkward silences that erupt. I can tag along with the Nut, play Mortal Kombat and big sister Rhonda, and start rebuilding at least some of the seven-month's worth of bridges I've burned behind me. I catch the Peanut smile at me .. for real this time .. and we're off to Never Never Land. Moms and the Goober order two large 'Big Toad' pizzas when we get there, and the Peanut and I hit the videogames. He's still nervous, I can tell. His hands shake when I press a handful of tokens into his palm. "It's your token, Peanut .." I tell him. "Now what do you want to lose at first?" He brightens up a little when he hears me tease him like I used to do when we were younger. Beating his big sister at any game is always a big thing to him, especially if I trash-talk him a little first. He drags me over to "Xtreme Vengeance," a combat game with super-powered beings and lots of gore. We play and trash-talk each other while our animated fighters deal out lots of carnage. After fifteen minutes, we are laughing and teasing each other so hard I find it hard to remember that just one day before I was still locked up and hadn't even broken a smile for weeks. A part of my wants to tell Peanut something, something about being his big sister, and loving him, and being sorry for what I might have done to upset him. The stronger part of me knows, though, that naming my emotions would kill this moment forever. Peanut doesn't need 'reconciliation,' he just needs his big sister back. I'm glad I've trained myself not to cry. "Would you mind if I called nikki?" I ask moms after we've returned home and it's about 7:00PM. "I haven't heard from her in months. I just want to see how she's doing, that's all," I add. "She is my best friend," I keep on explaining while moms just looks at me. "A lot can happen in seven months," moms tells me slowly. "People can change. I hope you've changed .. a little at least," she smiles weakly. "Can I call her or not?" I ask, unsure of what moms is talking about. It's not like her to be so yoda. Usually the answers are straight and sure, like gunfire. "I can't stop you from calling her," moms smiles. "I just want you to know that things change and people change, that's all. You have to be prepared for that in life. I want you to remember that. Change isn't something you should judge. You can accept it or fight it, but never judge it." "O..kay..?" What is with all the Yoda shit? "I'm calling her then .. just for a few minutes." I go over to the kitchen phone and dial nikki. This is an effort on my part to show moms I'm not hiding anything from her. I just got home, and I don't'need 'issues' my first night back. "Hello?" The voice belongs to nikki's mom. Her and nikk sound so much alike, but I can always tell. "Is nikki there?" "Yes, this is Nicole .." Pause. "Rhonda?" Shit, it is nikki. I must really have been gone a long time. I could always tell the difference between nikki porno and her mom before. And what is with the 'Rhonda' shit? Moms, Gobbs and the Nut were all calling me Rhonda, too, all fucking day. "P-slut ..?" I laugh. "What's up, girlfriend?" "Are you home?" nikk asks, not answering my question. Typical nikki porno, always wants to know everything else that's going on before she'll tell you what's on her mind. "Yeah, I was sprung today," I answer. "Is it all right to talk?" "Sure .." she responds after a long pause. "Sure," she repeats quickly. "I didn't know," I keep talking. "I figured you had some kind of .. you know .. restriction on you since I never heard anything from you. Is everything cool now?" "Everything's real cool," she replies quickly and hse catches her breath. "It's just .. it's weird hearing your voice .. that's all. After everything that happened. So much's happened since .. well, you know." "Like what? Tell me everything, p--." "I .. ah .." she pauses. "Could you ..?" she pauses again. "Could I what?" "Could you .. could you call me Nicole, or even just Nikki?" "I .. uh .. sure." She sounds freaked or something, like she's talking to a ghost. What is wrong with her? "Sure, Nikki. I'm sorry," I add, only I don't know why. "It's no biggie," she laughs. "I just .. I like that better, okay." "Sure," I shake my head. Whatever?! "So what you been up to? I feel like it's been forever." "Yeah, me, too .." she pauses again. "How are you? Is you leg still busted?" "Yeppers," I try to laugh. "I'm ronni the gimper now. We need to do some hardcore thrifting and get me a killer cane so I can lose this lame crutch they got me walking on. Can't have me thrashing looking like a geek, can we?" "Um .." she sounds like she hasn't even been listening to me. "I'm kind of in the middle of a family thing here. I .. I really kind of have to go." "Sure," I try to sound casual. "I understand. Moms doesn't like me rapping with juvies either," I manage a laugh which she doesn't return. "So you wanna go thrifting maybe tomorrow or something?" "Um .. let me check .. hold on .." Her hand muffles the phone, and I'm like in limbo for almost five minutes, listening to muffled voices. "Hey, Rhonda ..?" Nikki finally comes back. "My mom wants to know if you'd like to come over tomorrow afternoon .. around 2:00 .. for lunch ..?" Never in the two-plus years we'd known each other had Nikki's mom ever invited me over to their house for anything .. EVER! I have no idea how to respond to this, but find myself answering: "Yeah, sure, Nikk. We can go thrifting after that, okay ..?" "Sure .." she still sounds a tad freaked out. "That'd be great." "See you tomorrow then." We say bye and hang up. I turn to moms who's been listening the whole time to my side of the whole conversation. "You're going over there tomorrow?" she asks me. "Mm hmm," I nod. "Oh," is all moms says. "For lunch .. her mom invited me," I add. "I didn't think you'd mind. I promise it'll just be lunch and then going to some thrift stores. I need a cane," I explain. "This crutch thing is so lame. I can't be walking around with it my whole life. I .. uh .. I'm sorry, I guess I should have asked you first, huh ..?" I wait for an answer, but she just keeps looking at me, like she'd trying to decide whether to tell me something or not. "It's just that her invitation took me by surprise," I fill the silence. "I mean Nikki's mom has never invited me over for anything. I think I've only met her once or something. I got kind of put on the spot, you know ..?" "I don't mind if you go over there for lunch and go shopping," moms comes out of her daze-thing and nods her head. "Just remember what I said about change. People do change, okay ..? It's .. inevitable," she says softly. I nod. Whatever?! I go outside to find the Peanut and see if he wants to watch TV with me. I haven't seen television in months. Maybe we can find a cool movie. Fantasies and clit diddling. I haven't been able to really enjoy either in over six months. There was no way I could've strummed my puss with Bible Girl talking to Jesus not even ten feet away. My room was small enough, but throw in the utter lack of personal privacy, and the only time I could jack off was if I played sick. Even then, I had nurses in and out of my room at all times. I think preventing me from masturbating was part of my "therapy." Ronni the wild little thrasher slut needs some cooling down. All prevention did, though, was make me nuttier. Nothing to take the edge off, you know, especially when all that cunt therapist ever wanted to talk about was sex. She'd go home, listen to a tape of me telling some fuck story from when I was thirteen, and pop her puss good every night. I was stuck with maybe squeaking one out in the toilet, or doing a comatose stroke some night under the covers when I couldn't take it anymore. Funny - I got over craving booze and drugs quick enough, but never quit jonesing for a nice, slow finger fuck to my own private porno movie. That night, then, my first night home, I'm itching to get to bed, to get under my covers and inside myself. I missed myself the last seven months, missed the way I feel, missed the way my mind could take me to another world and drop me off a bottomless cliff. It feels weird when I finally get the lights off and my panties off. I must have jacked myself to sleep a thousand times over the years, but this time it's like I'm somehow uncomfortable with myself again, like I was when I first started playing with myself at eleven. I try to think of the wildest thing I can imagine - I am the President's daughter and I am on Air Force One getting gangraped by a group of terrorists. They have a nuclear bomb on board and they are going to blow up New York City unless I do everything they say. They make me perform in front of everyone on board - the President, the First Lady, all the news media. They make the television crews film the whole thing and broadcast it worldwide. They are all around me, tearing off my clothes, making me strip for them and the cameras. They are wearing these fucked-up turbans, waving around machine guns, and they smell like piss. They make me take out each of their cocks one-by-one while the television crews film it and the whole world watches. Their cocks are thick and beefy and all uncircumcised. Their foreskins hang out over the ends of their pricks, and I have to pump each one to get it really hard. They laugh at me, and bat my head back and forth between their cocks like a volleyball. "Look at the little American slut," the leader mocks me as he seizes me and jams his smelly cock down my throat. "She sucks cock like a whore, like all American sluts. They are all cocksucking whores. She sucks cock just like her mother taught her, don't you American girl slut ..?" he keeps shoving his cock down my throat before another man grabs my hair and impales my mouth on his cock. "I fuck the throat of the daughter of the president of the United States. Soon all teenage American girls will be on their knees sucking our cocks, brothers," he tells his men. I am surrounded by these gang-raping terrorists, and they make me perform every sexual act imaginable while the cameras roll. Then they drag these flight attendants into the fray, and force us all to eat each other out and fist fuck each others' pusses and asses while they cut our flesh with knives and carve words like "Slut" "Pig," and "Whore" into our backs and butt cheeks. Then one guy gets the idea to snuff one of us while he's fucking her ass because he once heard that dying girls give the best ride. They choose this little blonde flight attendant who is begging for her life. To shut her up, they bury her mouth in my snatch and start fucking her sphinx hard with a gun to her head. I am crying and screaming, but I am also anxious .. anxious to see what will happen. They are mashing the girl's screaming mouth into my puss, and despite my terror and I am fucking my puss into the poor girl's face. All the terrorist guys are screaming "Snuff her. Snuff the American bitch. Snuff all of them while we fuck them." I don't want to die, but I start cumming like crazy. The guy with the gun is pulling the trigger. I close my eyes and bite down on my palm to suppress my moan. I black out. A couple seconds later the room comes whirling back into my senses. My room .. my bed .. my fingers .. my puss .. my body .. my mind. MY FUCKING MIND! I hug the damp sheets and lick my taste off my fingers. I miss the feel of another naked body next to mine. I look out my window and watch the breeze seethe through the curtains. MY FUCKING MIND! Moms wants to drop me off at Nikki's the next afternoon. I want to walk. She's worried about my leg. I tell her I'm no cripple and that I want to walk. She doesn't argue with me and then hands me her cell phone. "Call me if anything happens, okay ..?" she tells me, like she expects to hear from me. I'm pretty stupefied, I mean moms trusting me with her cell phone after all the shit I've pulled. She just gives me this odd kind of grimace-smile when she sees me limp off into the afternoon sunlight. It's still fucking hot out, and after I reach the end of my street I realize how fucking uncomfortable crutches can be. Another mile. What the fuck was I thinking? I almost turn back, but I can feel moms' eyes on my back, and for some reason I feel like this is a test. How strong am I? How much am I going to have to lean on everyone else now? I keep on walking and actually start kicking on the pain in a way. Pain - mental, emotional or physical -- always focuses me. All the million thoughts screaming in my brain quiet and coalesce into one point of white-hot light. It's like when you tune all the fuzz out of a radio station and everything comes in clear finally. I march forward inside that clarity for the next half-hour until I see Nikki's house. Nikki's house? Someone painted it and cleaned up the yard and trimmed the hedges. There's one of those fake miniature wells and a tiny cobblestone path leading up to it from the sidewalk. A small, plaster lawn-gnome sunning himself on a rock grins at me. What the ..? I start to check the address when I see Nikki appear at the front screen door. She's in a flowery dress that practically covers her whole body, and she's carrying what looks like a pitcher of lemonade. All the red is gone from her hair, and I realize I've never seen the natural strawberry blonde of her hair. No make-up or lipstick, either. "Nikk ..?" I laugh as I walk up the tiny cobblestone path. "Hi, Rhonda," she smiles. "You walked over here?" she seems surprised and a little troubled when she sees me sweating and limping in obvious pain. "Are you okay?" "Hell yes," I grin, then pause. "Wow!" I finally say what's on my mind as she opens the door and nothing stands between us. "You look sooo different. Rehab, huh ..?" I'm fishing for some kind of explanation. "Yeah," she smiles like she has some kind of secret she's not so sure she wants to share. "Kind of .." "You're playing it smart," I whisper to her as I enter her house. "Keeps 'em off your case." She doesn't reply, and I quickly forget her silence as I soak up the new interior surrounding me. It's like someone came in and removed everything familiar from her living room and replaced it with the keepsakes from another family. There are family photos everywhere -- Nikki and her parents and her brother in a bunch of different locations doing a bunch of shit I never heard about. Then I notice all the pics feature the new Nikki, and I figure it out. Seven years worth of photos in seven months. Then I see Jesus. He is everywhere, just like God's supposed to be I guess. He's laughing, he's talking to children, and he's preaching to American Indians. Then Nikki's mom comes into the room. "Rhonda!" she gushes, and it actually seems genuine. "Oh, please, sit down. You must be exhausted." She actually takes my forearm under my elbow and leads me to what has to be a brand new couch. It even smells like the furniture store. The cushions are soft, and I sink into cumfiness despite myself. "Dear," Nikki's mom smiles at her, "get Rhonda a glass of lemonade. She has to be parched." Parched? The word strikes me as even odder than the lady's outfit. The only thing I ever saw Nikki's mom wearing was her work uniform over a pale complexion. Now she's all scrubbed down and suburban - cotton summer dress, same flower pattern as Nikki's, and a deep tan. She looks like she could run the marathon or something. But it's the word 'parched' that really gets my radar up. It's like hearing someone you've known for years suddenly speak a foreign language. 'Parched' sounds like a word Jesus would use, not nikki porno's mother. "We'll eat in a few minutes," she pats my knee affectionately, and I want to squirm, but I don't. I'm too wigged to even move. "You do like tuna salad, don't you ..?" "Um .. yeah .. that'd be great," I don't know what else to say. "You look good .. strong .." she adds quickly, obviously aware I just limped into her house after a mile trek. "I'm so happy you're here. I know Nicolette has missed you. But you know how she is. It's very hard for her to talk about her feelings .. still," she adds. "She's starting to come out of her shell, though. We all are. These last several months have been hard for us .. but good," she smiles firmly. "Adversity makes us grow. But you know that, don't you ..?" "Yeah," I find myself nodding. "Nicolette has some other friends joining us," she looks up and smiles at Nikki when she re-enters the room with a tray of lemonade and three glasses. "I hope you don't mind," she turns back to me. "Tams?" I ask Nicole. Nicole shakes her head and shoots me a weird look. "No, you don't know them." "Huh .." I can't think of anything else to say. I take my glass of lemonade and drain it in one long gulp. I'm that 'parched.' Nikki smiles at me and refills my glass. The scene is so freaky that part of me wants to crawl out of my skin and slither back out onto the street. My curiosity gets the best of me, though, and I find myself settling into the surreality. Nikk is scamming something here, and I'm dying to find out what the deal is. "I'm going to check on lunch," Nikk's mom sips her lemonade and stands up. "I'm sure you girls have some catching up to do. We'll be eating in a few minutes. You did tell Eld .. ah .. Jason, Scott and Loren two o'clock, didn't you ..?" She looks over at the clock on the fake fireplace mantle next to the "Jesus Preaches to the Indians" picture. "Yes, mom," Nikk seems slightly annoyed for a second, but then she smiles. "I told them two o'clock. You know how they are when they're out. They'll be here." She smiles back at Nikk. "It'll just be a few minutes, Rhonda," she tells me again, then leaves the room. "Okay, Nikk, what the hell is going on here?" I laugh under my breath. She winces. Not the reaction I expected. "Rhonda, could you ..?" she cuts herself off, glances towards the kitchen, then back to me. "I'm not sure you're going to understand all this, but could you at least wait and give it a chance." "Give what a chance?" "I can't explain it .. not now at least .. just promise me you'll give it a chance." "What .. a chance?" "Things are different now," she started. "I'm different. I know how this is going to look, but if we're going to be friends this is how it's going to be." "What do you mean 'if we're going to be friends?'" "Like I said, I can't explain it. You'll just have to see. Just promise me you'll wait. Can you promise me?" "Sure, Nikk?" I shake my head. "Whatever you're scamming, it's got be good. I mean look at you .." The sound of a car in the drive interrupts us. Nikki springs up from her chair and sprints to the door, the way she used to when Josh and I would pull into her driveway. I find myself standing, too, and peeking through the screen door behind her. The kids getting out of the car are dressed up like they're going to church - the two guys in dark suits and ties, and the girl in a navy blue skirt and blazer with a starched white blouse. I see the leather-covered books clutched in their hands, and then the surreality turns absolutely X-Files. For the first time I notice the books and magazines strategically arrayed across the brand new coffee table: "New Era," "The Ensign," "The Holy Bible," "The Book of Mormon." Oh, shit .. The bible-pushers enter the house with a clamor of greetings and hugs for Nikki. I try to back off, but gimpy ronni isn't quick enough. "You must be Rhonda," the bible-girl closes in on me and hugs me warmly. She's covered in rusty hair and freckles over her pale skin. She can't hide her scrumptious bod beneath her geeky little bible-girl suit, and her green eyes just pierce me. I feel myself go all squishy in her arms, and I realize I haven't felt another girl's embrace in over half-a-year. Unconsciously, I hold on, pressing her into me. She is totally huggable, and she doesn't freak. She holds me until I slowly come back to reality - She's a church-geek, ronni! Gradually, reluctantly, I release my embrace. "I'm Loren," she clutches my hands and shakes them. "It's so great to finally meet you. Nicolette has told us so much about you. I'm so glad to see you're up and doing well. We have so much to talk about." She's a talker, this one. "I'm .. Scott," one of the Mormo-guys offers his hand, shaking mine briskly. He's scrubbed, and with his red hair and freckles he could be Loren's brother. I assume he's not, though, because they have way different accents. He sounds like he's from down south; she sounds like she's from Boston or New York or something. "It's so nice to meet you." He still won't let go of my hand, and his thin, wiry body shakes nervously. He's a fag - okay, bi probably -- if I ever met one. Nothing worse than a fag hiding behind his bible. "This is Jason," Nikk blurts out before the other Mormo-boy can get a word in. Jason's a big beefy jock-type with short, curly brown hair. I notice how Nikki hunches up to him, and the sound in her voice suddenly registers .. possession. So that's what's going on with Nikki Porno. I shake Jason's hand, but he seems slightly less comfortable with my presence than the other two Mormos. He can't look me in the eye or any other part of my body, yet I'm conscious that he's absorbing all of me. He makes me conscious of what I'm wearing - white belly T-shirt and cut-offs. My months at Springvale took off a few pounds around my tummy, leaving it flat and pierced and demanding attention. I smile at Nikk when I see her bible-boy get all wiggy, but she isn't smiling back. If anything, she seems pissed at his reaction, hunching into him more tightly. What is up with her? "Oh, you're all here," Nikki's mom comes out of the kitchen suddenly. "You all must be starved. Come on in. Lunch is served." The next half-hour or so is a real slice of Bizzaro World. I feel like I'm in some episode from Seventh Heaven or something. We pray over the fucking tuna salad, and then the conversation turns lumpy, white and tasteless, just like the Wonder Bread sticking to the roof of my mouth. Nikki says about three total words to me, and I catch Jason's eyes trying not to drool over me about every other second. Loren, my little rusty-haired treat, single-handedly keeps the conversation chattering, mostly in my direction. I envision myself stuffing my puss in her eager-beaver face and burying my tongue in her fiery bush. I've never devoured a real redhead before, and I wonder if she has freckles all over her body, like on her tummy and her thighs. As I eat the tuna salad, I pretend it's her puss, licking the mayo off my lips and gazing into her piercing green eyes. She never releases my gaze, always waiting for me to turn away first. After awhile, I don't even look down anymore, just zeroing in on her, and it's like we're the only two at the table. I want this little bible-girl on all fours. I want to hear her begging me, praying to ME in her eager-beaver voice. In fact, I want all three of them, bare-assed naked and slithering around on the floor in dog leashes and choke chains. I've never fucked a bible-geeks before, and I know they must be horny as hell. All that talk about sin really has to fuck their minds into warp-drive. So this was Nikki's scam. Go Jesus and thump the bible-thumpers, slam the God out of their puny zombie minds. Total corruption! Fucking brilliant, a plan so worthy of me I can't believe I didn't think of it first. This way she gets all cock and puss she wants with no bullshit because she's hanging with 'good kids.' Judging by the way she's all over Jason, she must be banging him regularly, which must be why she's pissed he's checking me out. But jealousy? Nikki Porno jealous? I guess there's a first for everything. Like moms says, people change whether we like it or not. Still, once we get all naked and tasty with each other that bullshit will fade away, and we'll be back to where we were, thrashing the shit out of these lamers. I just need to play the game cool, like Nikki. I can do this, no problem. Just eat up what they spoon out until their guard's down, then make them violate each of the Ten Commandments in order. Peace of fucking cake! After lunch, we go into the living room with more lemonade. By now I'm dying for a Coke, but I know the Mormos have something against caffeine or something. Guess they won't be hanging at Magic Beans with us then. Everyone finds a seat, and I plop down on the couch right next to Loren. Before I know it, she's holding my hand again and starting another prayer. "Thank you for leading us to our newest dear Sister, Rhonda .." she prattles amid all the God-stuff, squeezing my hand and piercing me with her eyes. "Would you like to pray, too, Sister?" Scott asks me after they're all done. Sister?! Okay, I'll play along. "I'm not really religious, bro'," I tell him. Loren's grip tightens on my hand, and I instinctively pull away, but she's strong for a geek-girl. "You don't have to be 'religious' to pray, Rhonda," Scott beams. "You just have to believe someone is listening." "That's kind of the problem," I reply. "You doubt the Lord, Sister" he nods understandingly. "Given what's happened to you, that's understandable." "What do you mean by that?" "There aren't any secrets here, Rhonda," Scott explains. "Nicolette has told us pretty much everything about her .. your past." "Everything?" I snicker. "We're not here to judge anyone, Rhonda, just to pray, just to lead the lost sheep back to the Lord." Scott's keeping at me like a pit-bull, the fire of faith flashing in his eyes every time we lock eyes. Or is it something else ..? "So you heard about us sucking big nigger dicks for drugs?" I offer. "How about when we pimped out those geek girls to the niggers for shit. Or the old fart we fucked so hard he had a fucking stroke. You know about all that, Jason?" I turn my attention to him. He's hardly spoken all afternoon. I can tell he's trying everything in his power not to rape me with his eyes, rape the wild little thrasher girl he's been hearing so much about. His cock is so hard he can't even sit up straight. He's beyond temptation. I've got his ass pussy-whipped, and he hasn't even had a taste yet. Poor little bible-boy wants a thrill fuck, he wants to bang the little wild-child. Okay, baby, once I get this whole scam figured out with Nikki Porno, we'll be getting biblical on your cherry geek ass. We'll thump you so silly your dick will look like it was wearing a crown of thorns. "W.. would you leave Jason alone?" Nikki's voice seems to have lost all its strength inside that stupid flowered dress. "Please, Rhonda, just .." "Just what?" I laugh. "Enough with all this shit, Nikk. Let's blow this lamer crusade and go thrifting. Come on, p --. You can go to bible study some other time." "We're here to pray with you today, Rhonda," Scott re-enters the fray. "And why should I pray?" I snap back. "You're looking for peace, Rhonda," Scott nods his head like he's some kind of fucking authority on ME. "It's right here in front of you. You will find peace with the Lord. You just need to open your heart to him." "Sorry, don't think he's listening .." "You've had a troubling few years. I know God seems like he's not there to you, but he is. He's been here the whole time, you just haven't opened your eyes. When we experience personal crisis, even the noblest among us often turn away from Him when we need Him the most. He's always there, though, waiting patiently." He pauses when I don't automatically react with a ready 'Amen' or 'Hallelujah.' "Tell you what ..?" he offers. "Would you do something for yourself?" "What?" "Just try praying with us .. one prayer?" he asks. "Why?" "It might make you feel better," he gives me this patronizing smile that makes me want to shove a dildo up his skinny, white, freckle-covered ass. "I don't think so," I try to laugh, hoping that'll back him off. "Why not at least try?" he presses "I'm not going to become a Mormon," I blurt out. "You're wasting your time, okay ..? No offense," I add when I see Nikki shoot me another pissed-off look. "Rhonda," Nikki kind of started scolding me. "Remember you said you'd wait until .." "I know what I said," I cut her off. "But I didn't know this was about all this Mormon crap. No offense," I add again, "but no way, okay ..?" "We're not asking you to do anything but pray with us, Rhonda," Loren starts in on me now, her hands are like freckle-covered lobster claws. "Fuck that," I fire back, loving the sound of the word slamming into their holier-than-Jesus ear-drums. "I'll sit here and play all nice with you geeks, but I ain't praying to your fucking God. I don't care what scam you got going here, Nikk, that's bullshit, and you know it." "I'm not sure I understand what's upset you so much, Rhonda .?" Scott tries to be peacemaker. "Why don't we just calm down for a moment and .." "No need to calm down," I get up from the couch, reaching for my crutch. Fucking thing. How the fuck am I supposed to make an exit when I'm reaching for a fucking crutch. "I'm out of here. You guys have a fucking ball, okay ..?" I storm out the door as best I can, and I'm hobbling half-way up the street before I notice the car pull up alongside me. "Rhonda, at least let us drive you home," a voice calls from the front passenger window. It's the two bible-boys minus Big Red. She must be staying behind with Nikki. I imagine Nikk's pretty pissed at me right now. Serves her fucking right. She knows how I feel about bible bullshit. Then it strikes me. She DOES know how I feel about bible bullshit. That's what was wigging her out all this time .. yesterday on the phone, today when I got to her house. She knew how I'd react. That's why she was begging me to 'wait and see.' She's serious. Nikki Porno is serious. Nikki Porno is fucking Nikki Mormo. If I didn't have a million icy daggers of pain shooting up my leg, I'd be laughing my fucking ass off. Then an image slices across my brain, and for an instant I see Nikki Porno, sitting in church and praying like some geeked-out cult zombie. Not if I can fucking help it! I bend my foot the wrong way and stumble. In a second, I'm smooching the concrete. Then I hear the car's breaks screech, and an instant later I'm eyeball-to-eyeball with Jason. With his big hands, the bible-boy gently pries my face off the pavement. "Are you all right?" he asks, quickly joined by Scott. Together they pull me up into a sitting position. "You're in no condition to walk all the way home," Scott chimes in. "Help me get her into the back seat." I don't say anything as they lift me off the ground and start towards their gray Chevy Citation. I've got their geeky, bible-thumping asses right where I want them. If Nikki Porno wants to go all God on me, then she deserves to see the whole story, the whole TRUTH. She needs to see what these bible-thumping geeks are all about, for her own fucking good. "My leg is numb," I whine as they open the back door and slide me into the seat. "I think I twisted it somehow. Do either of you know First Aid?" "I do," Jason volunteers. "Scott, you drive," he orders while he climbs in the back with me. Scott hesitates a second, then goes around to the front. Jason closes the back door behind us. In a few seconds, we're on the road. "Should we go to the hospital?" Scott asks. "Hold on, let me check out her leg," Jason replies as his hands start feeling up my bare white calves. "Can you feel that?" "I guess," I nod, doing my best porno-star pout. "The more you rub it, yeah .. I can feel it more now. Since the accident, I sometimes I lose feeling in it. My therapist says I need to get it massages then to stimulate the nerves. That feels real good. Keep doing that .. Yeah, right there." I'm giving him my best ronni-slut voice, and it's working. He's shifting uncomfortably in the backseat. I rub my bare leg against his crotch, and he fucking spazzes like I just gave him a million volts, but not before I feel a pudgy growing in the pouch of his double-knit suit pants. So, bible-boy's got some action going. I continue wriggling my legs, and no matter where he moves my bare calves and thighs are all over him. Suddenly we lock eyes and I lift up my white belly T-shirt. His gaze leaves mine and just glides down my neck to my pierced nips. I tug the two rings, pulling my nips out a full inch, his eyes practically bugging out the same length. The rest of him is just frozen, though, and the only other things moving are his hands, which continue stroking up and down my bare legs. "Take it out," I whisper to him, but loud enough so Scott can hear. The bible-boy behind the steering wheel shoots his eyes back for a second. I tug my nips again to give him a shot, then reach up and start rubbing the pudgy in Jason's lap. "Come on, baby," I whine. "Jesus, it's so fucking hard. You've gotta have a monster cock in there, bible-boy. Take it out, pleeeease. I wanna see it," I porno-pout. "I'll suck it if you take it out. I promise I will. I just gotta see your dick, gotta feel it in my hands. It's been such a long time since I had a hot hard cock. I'll do anything, please, just take it out." "Jason .." Scott starts. "I want your cock, too, stud," I cut him off. "Take me back to your apartment. You fucking guys have an apartment, don't you ..?" "Yes," Jason barely chokes. "Take me back there and fuck my brains out. My fucking pussy is so wet. I haven't had hard cock in seven months. I just want to fuck and suck all afternoon long, you know. Just take out that big dick of yours, baby." I lean over and lick the bulge in his polyester double-knits. "I am so fucking hungry for cock." I start tearing at his fly now and he lifts his ass off the car seat. When I get his pants open, he scoots them down, then tears at the waistband of his jockey shorts. I open the bottom buttons of his white shirt and kiss his stomach. Suddenly I feel his firm, strong hands on the top of my head and he's shoving my face down his bas until his cock knock snaps up and knocks against my chin. "Oh, shit .." he gasps as he forces my lips over the head of his prick and jams his hips up, driving his cock shaft up along my tongue. "Oh .. oh .. oh .." he repeats, speaking every time he plows his prick up into my throat. So, the bible-boy isn't so holier-than-thou after all. I wonder if Nikk knows that her big bad boyfriend likes to jam fuck girls in the fucking throat. He's really giving it to me, too. Who knows how many years of Jesus he's trying to fuck out of the end of his dick. My fucking neck hurts he's bouncing my head up and down so hard around his cock. I'm out of practice. I work my hands around his balls and try to ease my lips off his prick and give him some tongue. But he just keeps jamming his prick up into my mouth, butting his cock head all the way back past my tonsils. Bible-boy doesn't have a bad cock either, around seven-and-a-half inches judging by the feel in my throat. "Shit, man, fuck her throat," I hear Scott's hoarse whisper cut above the sound of Jason's "ohs." I feel the car stop and listen to Scott slam the shift into park. "You want some of this, bible-boy," I gasp as I finally tear my mouth of Jason's cock and twirl my tongue-stud around the rim of his prick-helmet then spear it deep in his piss-hole. "Oh, Jesus fuck .." Jason moans, running his hands through my hair. "Jesus fucking Christ .. suck it .. suck it .." He slams my mouth back down on his dick, and a second later it starts burping a thick load of Mormo-splooge. I let bible-boy's cum gush out of the corners of my mouth so I look like I just choked on a McDonalds vanilla shake. I smile, keep licking Jason's dribbling piss hole and turn to Scott. "I'm still thirsty," I whine. "Wipe that shit off your face," he snaps at me, his eyes bugging out wildly. "If someone from the stake sees us we're going to be in deep shit." "Chill, Scott," Jason has suddenly become Mr. Cool now that he's jam fucked my throat. "Wipe your face off on my shirt," he tells me, leaving the flaps of his white shirt untucked as he gets his cock all snug in his jockeys and zips up. I do as he says. Then they quickly open the door and Scott gets out. His eyes dart around all jittery and paranoid, like he's had a shit-load of bong hits, then he waves at me and Jason that the coast is clear. Jason picks me up in his arms and sprints up the back steps of this apartment building. A few seconds later, I'm in this dingy two-bedroom deal. Scott starts closing the curtains and pulling down his pants at the same time. I laugh when I see his little four-inch prick, all hard and red, like a beat. His whole lower body is flushed, and it makes his pale freckled torso look pink in comparison. I nip at his small, stubborn dick and he grabs me by the hair like he saw Jason do. "Oh, suck it, shit .. suck me cock," he moans as I inhale his skinny, red cock. "Oh, fuck .. Jesus Christ .. FUCK!" he yelps suddenly as a flood of bible-boy cum spurts into my mouth. "Oh fuck .. I came .. I fucking came .. FUCK!" "That's all right, bible-boy, it'll stay hard," I giggle. "Get over here," I tell Jason. He already has his cock out and wagging in my face. I grip both pricks and suck them into my mouth together. When they feel their cocks slip sliding against each other, the bible-boys start freaking and trying o pull away, but this time I'm the one in control. I close my jaws and fingers down around their pricks and start bobbing my head back and forth, stuffing both their pricks as deep into my mouth as they will go. The fact that their dicks are touching each other and the feel is getting them off starts my puss-juices flooding. Fucking bible-boys are all closet fags, and they've probably been dying to suck each others' dicks for months. But Jesus won't let them. Well, fuck Him, because He's not here. Ronni's here now, and ronni wants to see these two bible-boys get all queer with each other. Not that I'm going to have any problems. They're all cozy in my mouth now, slip sliding away and smiling at each other like drooling crack-heads. "Keep him hard," I tell Scott as I back my lips off their pricks and start scooting out of my T- and cut offs. "Jack him with your hand," I order the skinny, pale redhead. He obeys without thinking, his mouth watering as he pumps and slithers his fingers up and down his bible-buddy's hard cock-shaft. "He's nice and big, isn't he ..?" I egg Scott on and lick his balls. "Isn't he ..?" "Mm hm .." Scott grins, starting to turn red with embarrassment. He's still stroking, though, harder than ever. Jason's just gritting his teeth, frozen in disbelief at how good his bible-buddy's hand feels pumping his meat. He kind of reaches up with his hand, then, and strokes the back of Scott's neck. "Get down on your knees, bible-boys." I tug at Scott, and he's down next to me in a second, not losing his grip on Jason's dick for one second. "You, too, stud," I tell Jason, who slowly sinks to his knees, too. "Now you stuff that big cock of his up my puss," I order Scott, spinning around, lowering my face to the carpet, arching my back and sticking my ass up in the air. Scott obeys and I can him feel him clumsily trying to stick Jason's cock-head inside my pussy. As he bumps it against my labes, I get even wetter. "Come on, man," Jason grunts in frustration. "Get it in there .. I can't .. Oh FUCK!" he growls when he finally slips inside. I tense my puss and make him grunt every inch inside me. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! That is so God damned tight!" "Play with his balls now while he fucks my puss," I tell Scott. "Play with your little bible-buddy's balls. You like that, don't you, bible-boy, playing with bible-buddy's big hairy balls ..?" Scott nods dumbly, and just keeps nodding while Jason begins slamming his cock in my, slapping his lower belly into my ass. His cock feel so huge in my puss. I haven't had a hard cock inside me for months, and the flesh inside is so tender it feels like it's tearing. His cock head feels like rubber mallet pounding up inside my stomach, and I start bucking my hips back to meet ever slam. "Get down underneath there and lick my puss while he fucks me," I hiss at Scott. I feel him wedge his face beneath my cunt and his tongue stb up at the top of my puss. "That bump right on top there. That's my fucking clit, bible-boy, right under that flap of skin. Stick your fucking tongue right fucking there. That's it, right fucking there. That's all right. You can lick his big dick, too, when it comes sliding out. You don't mind him licking your dick, do you, bible-boy ..?" I ask Jason. "You don't mind if your little bible-body licks your cock and balls while you fuck my pussy, do you .?" "FUCK!" is all Jason replies. He starts tearing away inside me so hard, fast and deep that I can feel the outside air sucking up into tummy after every back-thrust. Scott's tongue is everywhere - my clit-hood, Jason's cock, Jason's balls, snaking between my labes alongside Jason's dick and double-stuffing my puss. "I want to cum so bad," I whine, enjoying my utter mastery over them. "But I can't. You're fucking me so good, but I just can't cum. You want to make me cum, don't you..?" "Yes," Jason grunts. "Yes .." "I need you to pray to God to let me cum," I hiss, slapping my ass back into his belly and feeling him impale my puss all the way up to his balls. "You both have to pray to God and beg him to let me cum. Please .. I want to cum so bad .." "God, please let ronni cum!" Jason hisses. "I beseech you, Lord. Please let her cum while I fuck her. I want to feel her cunt cum while cock is inside it." "Please, God," Scott follows suit. "Let ronni cum. Please!" "I can feel HIM," I cry. "I can feel God inside me now. Can you feel him?" I wail. "Can you feel God inside my cunt with your cock, fucking me. Can you feel God fucking me right alongside you? Can you feel him?" "Yes," Jason bawls. "I can feel God with us." "I can, too," Scott sobs. "Tell God to fuck me," I snarl. "Say 'Fuck her, God. Fuck ronni's tight, teenage cunt!'" "Fuck her, God!" both bible-boys exhort in unison. "Fuck ronni's tight teenage cunt!" "More .. I need more prayer to deliver me," I hiss. The two bible-boys are yelling at the tops of their lungs now for God to fuck my cunt. I grind my hips around in circles trying to stroke the inside of my puss with every inch of Jason's stiff prick. I am so fucking close to cumming, but I can't. Something is wrong. Something is missing. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot my purse. My mind wanders a moment to earlier that day - Nikki's house, my house, last night in bed, the fantasy of the gang-rape, performing in front of TV cameras for everyone to see, back to this morning, waking up, then this afternoon, talking to moms in the kitchen before I left for Nikki's - scenes swirling around until they all jumble into one crystal-clear image. Fuck YES! I reach for my purse, and as Jason and Scott beseech God to fuck me and make me cum I snatch out my cell phone. I dial Nikki's number without thinking. "Hello?" Nikki Porno's voice answers. I turn the phone receiver up. Jason and Scott are totally fucking clueless, and they just keep screaming. "Fuck her, God. Fuck ronni's cunt. Make her cum, God. Please let ronni cum!" "Did you ever fuck Nikki like this, baby?" I ask Jason as he batters into me. "Fuck no," he grunts, oblivious to the fact she's listening to every word. "She wouldn't let you touch her, huh .. since she found God .?" I keep at him. "No, fucking slut .." he gasps. "That's why you started going out with her isn't it, coz you knew she was a fucking slut and you could get some, huh ..?" "Fucking slut won't even let me see her tits .." "You just want to fuck cunts, don't you ..? And get your big hard cock sucked, huh ..?" "Fuck, yeah!" "Did you like how I sucked your cock, baby?" "Fuck yeah!" "How does my puss feel fucking your hard cock, baby?" "Fucking excellent .. fucking tight teenage cunt!" "Fuck Jesus, and fuck my tight cunt, huh ..?" "Yeah, fuck Jesus and fuck your tight cunt .." I don't know how long Nikki listens to this. When I put the phone back to my ear, there's just silence. I dial again, and after a few rings it's Nikki's mom who picks up. "Hello?" she asks. Pressing the phone to my face and trying to cut off all the background noise, I manage to steady my voice. "Th..this is ronni," I speak slowly. "Could you tell Nikki I'm all right. In fact, I'm over here at Jason's and Scott's apartment praying right now. Tell her I think everything's going to be all right now." "Don't you call here or speak to my daughter ever again you .. you whore!" "Is Loren still there?" I ask all sweet-and-innocent. "Tell her we have another spot open in the prayer circle if she's interested." CLICK! As soon as the phone slams in my ear, I cum like a hot wave of lava imploding inside my tummy. I'm only slightly aware of Jason pumping a load of bible-spunk into me before sliding out of my puss and finding Scott's mouth. Out of the corner of my consciousness, I watch the two bible-buddy's cuddle up to one another and slowly, cautiously begin exploring each other's bodies. Time stands still, then, as I drift lazily down off the peak of my fuck and float back into my body. When everything becomes solid again, Scott's and Jason's bodies are wrapped up inside each other, joined in a 69 with Scott on top. I crawl over to them and start slapping Scott's ass hard until it pinks up on me. In my purse, I get out some moisturizer and grease his sphinx open until I can get three whole fingers up there. "You want his big dick up your ass, don't you, bible-boy ..?" I hiss as I slap Scott's bony white ass. "You want to feel him split you open with that hard cock of his, don't you ..?" All Scott can do is whimper. I push him off Jason and sit down across his shoulders, facing his ass. I continue beating his cherry white ass with one hand and grabbing Jason's hard-on with the other. I pull him up so that he crawls over us. He looks at me and bites his lip. I point to Scott's ass and pry it wide open with my fingers. Scott keeps whimpering, trying to sound like he doesn't want the ass fucking he craves. "Fuck the little bible-boy's ass, stud." I yank Jason down onto Scott by his cock. "I got him all greased up and ready. You think my puss was tight, wait 'til you sink that cock-meat into his cherry white shinx. Look at it. All puckered and ready to be popped." I press his cock-head down so that it slides into Scott's pale, freckled ass crack. Jason is biting his lip so hard it's bleeding. I kiss him and suck his blood into my mouth, letting some dribble out the corners of my mouth. I slap Scott's ass again while Jason looks on, stroking his cock against Scott's tight white buns. I pry open Scott's cherry white ass even further, and he bawls something unintelligible. "Fuck it!" I hiss under my breath. Closing his eyes, Jason shudders his cock head between Scott's ass-cheeks and then slowly skewers his little bible-buddy while the smaller boy thrashes around bleating like a sacrificial lamb. "FUCK!" Jason's whole body shivers with every thrust up Scott's tight ass pipe. As he begins to pick up the pace into a steady pounding, I rub my puss against Scott's bony shoulder blades and hump the wind out of his gasping lungs. This is the exact position we're in when the door opens and Loren storms in, her red-hair raging like frizzy fire. An old guy and two other bible-boys in suits follow her into the dingy apartment. Everyone starts screaming. I climb off Scott and start getting dressed. They are all screaming at each other, but no one says a word to me except Loren, and all she does is scream the word "Whore" in my face over and over again until one of the new bible-boys drags her away. "Hey, let's do this again sometime," I smirk once I'm outside the apartment and in the hall. Loren dives at me from the couch, but she's held back. When I close the door, the last thing I see is Jason and Scott, naked, their limp cocks glistening with each other's spit. They are crying at the feet of the old man while the others huddle on the couch, praying at the tops of their lungs. I make it down the stairs and out onto the street without even using my crutch. I have no idea where I am, and I don't care. I just start walking, knowing I'll find my way back somehow. I'm home now. MY MIND! MY FUCKING MIND!