chapter fifty-two.

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• FEEL IT ALL - TOKIO HOTEL

»-☠︎︎-+>

The next few hours at the club were a blur after what happened in the bathroom. Another piece was taken away from me and paid back in filthy money, pills, or praises that meant jack shit.

I felt resurrected. Full of adrenaline.

What bullshit. The other night they were cussing me out because they knew they couldn't get their dicks wet with a drunk, unconsenting minor. But a sober look-a-like prostitute looking for money, which they had?

I was pulled down on a lap, a drink held to my lips. "You gonna listen this time?"

My eyes flickered to the man, but I nodded a little and took the glass as I took a gulp of the whiskey and felt his hands move to hold my hips. Drink after drink and pill after pill, I was docile and vulnerable.

There were murmurs and rich laughs passed around the lounge, and drinks and coke splayed across the table. I turned my head to look at the man clicking his fingers in front of my face, my eyes flickering around the place. "Oh, man, look at her pupils."

There was quiet chatter coming from people walking by, giving me filthy looks or murmuring to one another. I felt so exposed. I thought this, the outfit and the attention would be fine. I dressed like this even in public. But were they really for these eyes? What happened to feeling good, to myself?

"How old are you, really?" The man whose lap I was sitting on spoke, his hand going to grasp my face. I turned my head away, my eyes closing for a minute. "Eighteen," I lied.

I could see him smirk in the corner of my eye, but I didn't comment on it. In fact, I didn't speak at all. His hands roamed over my body until they finally stopped at my thigh, and my G-string once he tugged the little bit aside.

My legs closed immediately. He had a look of disappointment flood his face, and he leaned over to grab another ecstasy. "Stage shy?" He asked, holding the pill to my lips.

. . .

"No."

"Good. Open your mouth." He said curtly. Once I swallowed it, he grabbed out some money and tucked it in my skirt, giving my thigh a firm pat and squeeze before moving further up.

Such wealthy people, and yet they have nothing better to do with their lives.

I felt so fucking high, the world felt like cotton candy and my body felt at ease. Even if I wasn't aware of myself at the moment.

"Enjoying yourself with Dixon?" Raymond said, his voice faint once he came forward to firmly pat my cheek. Not enough to hurt, but to snap me back to reality.

My eyes flickered down to the hand between my legs. Even if I was trembling, I couldn't move. I just watched what was happening while I was completely violated and exposed to the group. It was only now I'd noticed how quiet they'd become.

Sometimes, I just let things happen.

It felt good, I think. Why wouldn't it? But it was just too much. I felt sick, just at the eyes fixated on my squirming figure and the two fingers rubbing up and down on a particular spot that just made me incredibly unsettled.

My eyes were wet with tears, and I was... stuck. Hazed.

It wasn't silent like it always was. When I'd complained, I was now begging for everything to go haywire again and to wake up from this nightmare.

"You're quite small for eighteen," He muttered. "Quit moving," he breathed out before he returned his hand to my thigh, pulling the g-string back into place. It was only then he leaned in and whispered against my ear, "You know what? How about we take this somewhere else? I can pay you."

I breathed in, then breathed out.

»-☠︎︎-+>

I was forced down on my knees in the bathroom stall, rushingly undoing his belt and pulling down his pants. His hand fisted my hair, pulling my face against his groin before he forced me up, spinning me around and pressing himself against me while ripping down my skirt halfway and pulling the g-string beneath it aside.

My whole body was still tingly and numb from everything I'd had. All I could feel was his cold hand gripping my neck, then moving to my face as he thrusted inside of me. I didn't shift a facial expression until he was slapping me and gripping my jaw, leaning my head up with his other hand on my shoulder to slam into me harder.

I could feel my whole body pressing against the cold plaster, my consciousness dipping in and out momentarily.

What has my life come to?

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