When I was 13 years old, I thought I could do anything with little to no consequence. I had a single mother and an imprisoned father and run of our two bedroom apartment most nights of the week. My mom worked double shifts at the hospital in order to sustain mine and my brothers lives. I found out very early that a good way to get attention from boys was to pretend you were experienced in sex and making out and so forth. I hung out with a group of boys, I was not fond of female friends, they all came from single mom homes and were the men of their houses. They came and went as they pleased and luckily for me, my mom wasn't around to notice I did as well. When the guys got together to drink behind the garbage cans, I was right there throwing back beers like an expert drinker. I could hold my own with guys from anywhere. I became a circus freak, step up and pay a quarter to watch this 100lb girl drink Vodka straight from the bottle! I enjoyed the attention and I enjoyed the company. I loved to feel like I was loved and protected by these guys.
When I was 14 and in the eighth grade me and "my boys" went to a high school party, a regular weekend event for the seven of us. I immediately started drinking far more than normal, I was smoking pot like Bob Marley and cracking my regular sarcastic jokes. A guy whom I had never met offered to take me to the gas station to fill up on smokes, being 14 and "experienced" I went along for the ride. We ended up at a Safeway with me finding a random adult male to makeout with in exchange for a bottle of Jose' Cuervo. The first one to take the bait also footed the bill when I offered him a ride back to a high school party. I was manipluative, young and cute. A horrid combination in most cases, but especially in this one. I remember praying that after I chugged back for the third time that I wouldn't throw up in the high school guy's van. We rounded the corner to the party on two wheels. At some point we had lost the random guy from the parking lot and my new high school friend and I made our way into the party. I smoked in the kitchen and sipped a beer while talking to a few of my guys, they were ready to leave and pretty pissed I had disappeared with some strange asshole. I became defensive of this stranger and told them to all fuck off and stop worrying about me like their kid.
At some point after our elementary blow up, I found myself in a back bedroom with my getaway driver. We sat cross legged on the floor passing my reward of Jose' back and forth. After what felt like an eternity, I began to pass out. In and out of concience I crept, heaving the Cuervo back up faster than it went down, choking and gagging on a dick. I had never done anything more than make out and fiddle with first base and suddenly this stranger had his dick in my mouth. I bobbed back into oblivion, crying at what I knew was inevitable, blacked out I was a freebie for the guy who stuck around long enough to wait for me to pass out. I felt the jeering of my body against his while I burned in pain, throwing up on every thrust. I felt the blood trickle down my legs, burning and aching and blacking out again.
I woke up the next day on the front lawn of some strangers house, alone, in a strangers pants and my own too tight top. I burned in pain and ached from my head to my feet. I had dried vomit in my hair and blood all over my face from an assuming punch I had taken the night before. Written on my hand was, "you took it like a whore" in permanent marker. I cried and panicked and begged God it was not true, my half assed memories and my painful swagger. I knew it was real, the taste in my mouth, the pain in my crotch, the lawn, the pants that were not mine. I woke on that lawn a different person and it was not for the better.
I spent the next eight years reliving that night with every man I could get hard. I was hell bent and determined to sleep with every man I wanted, on my terms, because you can not rape the willing. I would abuse myself on my terms and I took full advantage of the opportunity.