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The Gimp

2506 Words | 0 |1.00

OMG, I discovered some Pulp Fiction stuff happening right in our own neighborhood! #Mystery

Just watch the movie if you don’t know what I’m talking about, but I noticed some suspicious activity, and I even called the cops.

“What kind of suspicious activity?” the 911 operator asked.

“You know, people going down there all the time, but one at a time, and coming out after a few minutes? I think they’re dealing drugs out of there, and I don’t mean weed.” That’s legal here if you get a prescription. “There’s a dispensory for that down the road, so it must be something hard-core illegal, like meth, or heroin.” Honestly, I couldn’t tell you what a meth head, or a junky would look like, or I wouldn’t have thought that.

Most of the guys were old, er. Fat, bald, with beards hanging out the bottom of their masks, and fluffing out the sides around their ears. If anything, they looked like hipsters, so maybe it was some kind of new trendy designer drug, like Extacy?

If it’s not all ready obvious, I don’t really know anything about drugs, except to stay away from them, and drug dealers in general. That’s why I was so afraid there might be one doing business in our neighborhood, because that means drug users, and even more crime once they start robbing, and mugging people to get money for drugs.

“Well, I’m sorry, but there honestly isn’t a lot here to write a report on, so if it’s not an Emergency.”

“Well, I didn’t know who else to call, the only police number I know is 9-11 but can’t you connect me with the DEA, or give me their number?”

“I suppose I could look it up, but so could you, and what you’re describing sounds more like trespassing.”

“I told you the owner of the store said it’s none of my business, and stop snooping around. Isn’t it breaking and entering?”

“Look, I don’t know, why don’t you give me your name, and.”

“Karen, uh. Karen Shelly?” I shook my head, stupid name to make up on the spot. “Shelly, that’s my middle name, but I don’t like to be called Karen.” Because I’m totally turning into the girl that speaks to your manager, “Never mind.” I just hung up, and went to look for more evidence on my own.

The store was still open, so the door was locked down to the basement. I didn’t see any needles at the bottom of the steps, or anywhere around the alley. Maybe they smoke it, or they just know better, and take it home to shoot it up. Can you even smoke meth, or heroin? I don’t even know if it’s meth or heroin we’re talking about here…


I don’t guess it’s any big surprise, what was really going on after I spoiled it in the title. Sufficive to say, I was so scared it might be drug dealers, that kept me away until my curiosity got the better of me. Then, the light came on, and the owner unlocked the door from the inside.

I got up, and saw this man put out his cigarette. Waiting, he stubbed it out with his boot before he went in, so I grabbed some clothes, and put them on over my sleep shorts. I had a tee-shirt on too, but I didn’t wear a bra to bed. Honestly, I didn’t really need to wear bras during the day for support, it was mostly to keep my nipples from showing through my tops, and attracting unwanted attention.

It was pretty cold out, but I had a quilted jacket, with a hood, and fur around that to keep me warm. The warmest boots I had were waterproof, even though it was pretty dry out there, I could slip those right on without worrying about lacing them up.

Sneaking out of the house, after dark, but not because my parents were worried about me being up to no good. Running with a bad crowd, or even hooking up with a boy. I don’t have a boyfriend, not so much because I don’t want one, but because I was so much of a goody 2 shoes, and a tattletale, that none of them wanted anything to do with me.

They probably thought that there was no way I would put out, or even let them get to second base, and they’d probably be right. Before that night, when I discovered things I never imagined in my wildest dreams, which up to that point was probably a cute boy smiling at me. Coming up to talk to me, and then waking up, because I couldn’t imagine what we would have to talk about.

By the time I got there, there was another man waiting. In a car, with the engine running but the lights off so I couldn’t even see in the windows. I wouldn’t even have known he was in there if he hadn’t left the engine on, to run the heater, but then the first man I saw came out.

So to speak, he stopped to light another cigarette, and took a long drag before he climbed up the steps. He pulled his mask up, and cupped his hands around the cigarette to keep them warm, but I just hid around the corner.

I looked down when I heard the chains jingle around his boots. Something I couldn’t see from my bedroom window, when the red light came on. He had these biker type boots, with a strap in front of the heels, rings around his ankles, and chains over the tops.

Which I thought was weird, because he wasn’t dressed like a biker at all. He wasn’t dressed like anybody, just black pants, and a hooded sweatshirt. The hood up over his bald head, and a mask over his bearded face, but of course that was the idea. He didn’t want anybody seeing him there, let alone recognize him, but as soon as he was gone.

The other guy got out of his car, and he wasn’t fat at all. He didn’t have a beard neither, and he tucked his bangs behind an ear before he practically jogged over to the stairs down to the dungeon. The red light should have been a clue too. I heard of the Red Light District in the Netherlands, I was just so focused on drug dealers, I didn’t put 2, and 2 together. I guess it could have been illegal gambling too. They have gambling addicts as well as sex addicts, but this wasn’t regular sex, of course.

“Huh!” I blew into my hands, and stuck them in my pockets. Looking back, I even though about going back to bed. It was a school night, but I knew that I’d be up all night, worrying. Again, I’d been here before, and chickened out. It was a lot more warmer back in bed too, but I stuck it out, until the next guy came out.

The emo looking one, he was even kinda cute. He pulled his mask down to light up a cigarette, and that ruined how good looking he was in the face. It doesn’t matter how good looking he is if he’s a smoker, I can’t imagine letting him kiss me with it on his breath, any more than kissing an ashtray. He took his time heading back to the car, though.

There wasn’t anyone else waiting, so I finally got the guts to run across the back parking lot, and open up the door down there. Honestly, it was cold enough that I just wanted to get inside, but also I hoped one of them left 1 clue. Maybe they shot up down there, and left the needles, or maybe they smoked it. They all smoked, but that wasn’t really the deal breaker for them that it is for me.

All I smelled was cigarettes smoke, so I wrinkled my nose, and pulled my mask back up. Then, I heard a chain jingle down the hall, and I wondered if maybe those boots were part of their gang. So, you could tell if someone was part of your gang, but not the police, if they didn’t know about the boots?

“Huh!” I peeked in, and covered my mouth, before I started giggling. Nassim had his back turned, and I didn’t even know he smoked, cigarettes. I knew he sold them, but I recognized him from behind from his body. He changed, out of the normal clothes he wore behind the counter into mostly black leather straps, with bright shiny buckles, and rings, but they didn’t do much of anything to hide his body. 2 of them crossing his back from his shoulders to his belt.

Then, he turned around to show them meet in a ring, his hairy chest, bare nipples, cuffs around his wrists, and a chain hanging from the wall over a folding chair.

“Huh!” He flicked the end off his cigarette, and dropped it. Barefoot, so he couldn’t stamp out the ember just smoldering in the middle of the floor. Then, he pulled the ball gag up over the zipper zipped open over his mouth. Oh yeah, he had a black leather hood over his head, with no eye holes at all, and a zipper over the mouth for a ball gag.

He was a gimp, this was his dungeon, and not only that, but I never saw any women come down here, neither. Just men, gay men, he was a gimp for gay sex in his sex dungeon. The chain pulled tight when he sat down, so his hands hung over his head. That’s why he had to stand up to smoke after sex, and pull the ball gag back up before he sat down.

Waiting for the next customer, the next gay man to come, an use him sexually. All of a sudden, I realized I was standing right in front of the door. Down the hall from the door to the basement. They’d see me as soon as they came in, because he had the light on in there, but I didn’t see anything like whips, or paddles? On the way out, I just started thinking of other questions like is it even S&M?

I forgot about the cops, until one called me back. Sneaking back in the house, at the worst possible time. “Hello?”

“This is detective Raime, at the Smithfeild police department. You called emergency services earlier tonight, Friday, last Saturday, and several times over the last month?” Yeah, well the guys mostly showed up on the weekends. This week must’ve been different, because they’re all spending time with their families?

“Uh huh, it was a false alarm. It wasn’t anything to do with drugs after all, it was all just a big mistake.”

“Well, in that case, you can do us all a favor and stop calling in false reports, okay?”

“Sorry, I got to go.” I hung up, but it was already too late. Dad turned out the light in his room before he came out, with a baseball bat.

“It’s just me dad, I’m not a burglar.”

“Well, what are you doing up so late?”

“I’m just hungry, so I’m going to get something to eat, from the kitchen. Go back to bed.”

“Well, who could be calling you at such an hour, do you know what time it is?”

“It was just a wrong number, go back to bed.” Before he sees me still dressed up with my coat on, so he asks me what I was doing out so late, and I have to lie again. Knowing I’m such a bad liar, but he finally went back in his room, so I could take my coat off.

“Huh!” That didn’t help. I wasn’t just hot, and sweaty, I was hot, and wet in the shorts, too. Honest to god, the sexiest thing I ever did see. Let’s be honest, the first, and only thing I saw in my whole entire life sexy enough to turn me on so far was Mr. Khoury. Chained up in his dungeon, even smoking a cigarette after just having gay sex with 1 man, and waiting for another one to show up, and have sex with him. Gay ass sex.

Blind in that mask, so he can’t even see the men doing him, at their mercy, bent over so he’s hanging from the chain? “Hhuh! Uh huh!” It wasn’t that hard to imagine that, bent over the kitchen counter, with my hand stuffed down the front of my shorts, scrubbing my pubic hairs with my cold fingers to warm them up. Hesitating to touch myself, the way I want to be touched, but knowing it’s just a tease. “Uh mh!” Holding my mouth so I don’t moan out loud, and my eyes flashing with images of fat manly bodies slapping together. Belly to butt cheeks, and the animal grunts of sick sodomy.

“Mh hm!” Whimpering, and just touching the barrier, to my virginity. To sex, the only thing between me and sinful sexual pleasures I dare not imagine before was just a little skin. “UM NH!” It hurt, “Snh!” Of course, but now he was inside of me. Pounding my sex roughly, so my legs slap the cubbard, and the drawer handle hit the back of my wrist so hard it hurt, but I kept humping harder, and harder. Practically raping myself, because I didn’t have a man. A real man to take me, make me, have his way with me.

“Ngh ghn! Snh! Hn!” I just relaxed, and turned my head. Felt my crotch spasm, squeezing my fingers together, and a little drool leak out the corner of my mouth.

“Oh,” that’s what it feels like. “Oh god.” No wonder it’s so addictive. “Oh, my god, I’m sorry.”

“Huh, Sharon?”

“Uh, mom?”

“Are you all right? I didn’t want to interrupt, you’re obviously.”

“I’m fine mom. I’m huh!” I just sank down to the floor, feeling faint, but also still overwhelmed by all the pleasure running up, and down my whole body from my head right down to my sex.

“Huh, I’m just. Fine. Now, mom.” Go back to bed…

“Okay, but if you need to talk, you know you can always come to me.”

I don’t know if I can. Not about this, it’s not just sex. It’s gay sex, and my father doesn’t trust Nassim, or his whole entire family, because they’re foreign. I thought it was drugs, but my dad would have gone right for the T word.

Terrorist, even though they’re Lebonese, and Christian, it doesn’t matter. They’re middle eastern, and I almost called the DEA on him because I jumped to conclusions, but does his wife know?

Does Soraya? Every time I think I get some answers, I just keep finding more questions, but it’s late. I’m tired, and I think I’m bleeding, and it’s a school night.

I better go back to bed, and get some sleep, before I even try to think of some way to get more answers…

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