Filthy is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.
How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.
How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.
To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.Show less
A Month Later:
Admittedly, our situation was strange. I'd been using a lot of my time trying to wrap my head around its complexities.
I had a room to myself. That was more than I could say about the room I'd shared with Kirsten back at Mother's. It had been no bigger than a broom closet and smelled heavily of moth balls. Kirsten's unrelenting hatred for me made things a bit cramped in there.
For the most part, I'd learned one important lesson since you moved me in: I couldn't manage to please you. The expectations you held for me were impossibly high and I'm short. I was trying my hardest anyway.
I stomped into the house after work that day, it was an ordinary Tuesday. Frustration had overrun my senses. At work, Jess showed up to harass me about my whereabouts, no doubt to gain information to take back to Mother and Kirsten.
You greeted me by knocking me backwards, making me slam my elbow into the door frame. The speed you were travelling made it difficult for me to decide whether or not it was done with purpose. It most likely was.
"What the hell?"
Ignoring me, you continued your power walk through the house. In the kitchen pots and pans clanged against one another loudly as you muttered harshly to yourself. I followed the noise to check on you.
"Are you alright?"
Looking away from the recipe book, you glared at me.
"Can you do something useful for once in your fucking life? Huh? Go clean the bathroom. Make sure it's spotless." You snapped your fingers at me the way you would to a dog.
Speechlessly I turned to leave the room in a hunt for cleaner. You were not an easy person to predict. I'd compare you to a flash flood. Mysterious and always leaving me wet.
Thirty minutes later you appeared, ready to inspect my work.
"There's still shit all over the mirror and get rid of that hand towel." You turned to leave but stopped in your tracks. "I'll need you to go to the store and get me some wine."
I looked at you puzzledly. "I'm not 21."
Scowling, you reached over and grabbed a hold of my wrist tightly. Your sharp fingernails leave marks in my pale skin, a delicious first of many.
"You don't think I know that, stupid girl? Tell Zoey it's for me."
It was so difficult to get to know you. Everything about who you were seemed to be locked away in a filing cabinet somewhere, the key had gotten misplaced years ago.
Did you scare me? I wasn't sure. I'd dealt with many forms of abuse in my life. Mother and Kirsten had made sure I was good and fucked up. That's not it though, not with you. It was different. The mystery about you kept me up at night. I would've done anything just to get a glimpse into your mind.
"Hurry the hell up." You slapped your debit card into my hand.
Your grip loosened up and you shoved me towards the door. Bossing me around helped you blow off whatever steam you needed to be rid of. It hardly bothered me, the attention was nice. I wanted to kiss you.
Kirsten never touched me unless she was grabbing for my wallet.
It was wrong to be advocating for abuse... Was it abuse if I enjoyed it? Sometimes I even instigated it. There were days when I'd have too many days off from work in a row and I'd grow restless with boredom. You'd be sitting on the couch leafing through one of your catalogs. I would come in and get in your face.
"What the fuck did you just say to me?" You would erupt.
The touch fueled by aggression, I'd been pining for it. You had been rough with me before, kicked things in my direction in irritation, or pulled my hair just because you had gotten a parking ticket or something. But that day was the first time you had left a mark on me and I cherished it.
I was sick, right? Yeah. That thought had crossed my mind once or twice too. Then I got over it.
The car that night was the first and only time you had been sexual with me. It was grandeur. I replayed it over and over again in my mind whenever I was alone. I wanted it again. I ached for it. But I could wait. I took whatever you could dish out. Whatever you had for me, I'd take it because I was holding out for a second round with you.
In the store, Zoey barely batted an eye when I set the wine down on the counter.
"For Cordelia, I presume." She snapped her gum.
Before that moment, I didn't know your name. When I had asked, you locked yourself into the bathroom for an hour and a half. When you came out, you went straight to bed. You didn't speak to me for an entire day.
To Zoey, I played it cool. It was disheartening. Why did she get to know your name, were you a couple before we met? I couldn't stomach the thought of it. She wore caked on makeup and her lip piercing looked crusty. I wasn't one for judgement, I know I'm not great looking. But you're everything and Zoey was a high school dropout with a wrist tattoo of a chili pepper.
"Yep," was all I could muster.
You were probably growing impatient. A devilish thought flickered in my head but I pushed it away. I signed the receipt and tried to leave.
"She's not a good person for someone like you to be hanging with."
I narrowed my eyes, I was both curious and annoyed. "Why's that?"
Zoey shrugged her delicate shoulders. "Just saying."
"Someone like me, what does that mean?" My voice echoed in my ears.
I'd grown up with a drunk for a mom. My dad, who knows where he was at any given moment. I found out I liked girls when I was in fourth grade, the day Kelsey DeAngelos moved into town. In eleventh grade, my girlfriend took a man to prom. I was pretty used to being the odd person out. Things like insults barely registered in my head anymore, especially not from Zoey Deckman.
"Someone so pure. You're like a goody two shoes, you know? I'd hate to see you get yourself into something you can't get out of. Something you'll regret."
I shoved the debit card into my pocket, took the bag with the wine in it, and walked out.
Back at the house, I opened the door ready to beg you for some physical contact. From the front room, I could see you. You were in the living room wearing a full length dress and your hair was curled. Talking with your hands, you were animated. I stepped into the room and you smiled at me thin lipped. You were so beautiful.
"Emery, this is my mom and my younger sister, Roxanne."
I stared back at you blankly and then looked around at your guests. "Um, hi." You gave me a withering look. "I have to go to the bathroom." I sat the wine down on the table and got out of there.
I was having a panic attack when you bursted in behind me a few minutes later. You were furious.
"Can't you act like a civilized human being?" You kept your voice shrill, your family was in the next room.
I rested against the wall next to the shower, counting my breaths to myself.
You rattled me to get my attention. "You're not going to screw this up for me, you got that?"
I sunk down to the floor.
A finger prodded the waist line of my jeans. "If you can be a good little girl, I'll make you feel nice. Do you want that?"
Inaudibly, I replied. You didn't like that.
"Use your words or you're not getting anything. You can stay in here for the rest of the night. That's what you deserve."
"I w-want it. I'll be g-good." I trembled.
My heart was beating too fast. I could barely hear myself speak but you accepted it. Your hand cupped my thigh before you tugged my pants off. I felt oddly exposed to you in my white underwear on the bathroom floor.
"You can listen when you want to, can't you?" You whispered.
The softness of your voice threw me off. I closed my eyes and let your touch send me to levels of bliss I'd never experienced before.
Your warm breath blew at my vagina lips, sending chills up my spine. I exhaled deep, reaching for your hair.
"Lay down." You ripped the underwear away in a swift movement to pry my thighs apart.
I laid down on the tiled floor, spotting a big area I missed while sweeping.
Your tongue pressed lightly against my clitoris making me squirm. Putting more pressure on it, you swung my legs over to rest them on one shoulder each. You stuck a finger inside of me, penetrating me deeply. I whimpered in enjoyment. It only took a couple of seconds before I was on the floor wriggling around in orgasmic euphoria.
You stood up and looked me in the eye. "Did that feel good?"
"Yes, it felt so good." I sat up. "Thank you, Cordelia."
I barely finished my sentence before you pulled your arm back and punched me square in the jaw, knocking me into the sink.
"Keep your mouth shut unless someone asks you a direct question. We're friends, period. Don't say anything stupid."
You walked out leaving me to question the hell had just happened. A minute later you returned with an ice pack. "You slipped on the floor because you didn't dry it properly while mopping. I mean it, don't be stupid out there."
I nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
My head was buzzing with wonder. You were a true queen.