“I never imagined you would be this kind of girl,” said the homeless man. “I think this is for you now.”
He was holding the red collar of the missing dog. Somehow it felt right. She bent her head down, allowing him to wrap the collar around and tighten it around her neck. There was a finality to it and Gabriela felt something inside her snap.
When the mutt was finally done with her, she couldn’t lift her eyes up. She just stood there, a broken mess. The man got up from the mattress, leaving her head to fall down on it. There was a dirty spot right in front of her face. She tried to identify what it was from, but her vision was growing blurry and there were too many smells mixing up in the air. It didn’t matter.
The homeless man got behind her and pushed his dog away. Her skirt was lifted up and part of the filth oozed out of her, dripping onto the floor. That didn’t matter either - there was plenty left inside of her, more than enough to seep into every corner of her soul.
The old geezer didn’t seem to mind being second. Gabriela felt his touch on her wet skin, felt him slide on the gooey slippery surface that had once been her innocence. It was almost endearing. Somebody cared for her. Somebody wanted her, even now. Even from the depths of her depravity, she was still good enough. For him.
He came in fast and hard. Still on the floor on all fours, her hips bounced back and forth against his hanging belly, making a wet, splashing sound. Her face rubbed against the mattress, pushed with a force that she did not fight. Old candy. The dirty spot was from an old candy, flattened and molten into the surface of the tissue. She could see it now that her head was shoved on top of it.
Fast. He was getting faster. Tight around her waist. She was so slender he only needed one hand to grab her. The other moved to her neck, pulled the collar towards him. Hard.
Her head sprang upwards, arching her back towards the ceiling. Her vision shifted from the grey surface of the mattress to the gloomy space of the room. And darkness. The light of the TV screen barely illuminated the cardboard walls with bleak colours, but there was no sound.
Harder. The collar tightened around her neck as the man pulled on it. Her breathing was shallow and difficult. Her mind was dizzy and something primal awakened deep within. She tightened around the deformed member inside her, daring him, begging him to spill his filth inside her.
Warmth and wetness. One of the dogs had began to lick her face. It was like it was telling her that she could let go. That it would be OK. The collar was even tighter. So tight.
Air. She gasped for air but her hips shook violently, demanding satisfaction. Then it came - suddenly and violently, as the old man groaned, holding her tightly underneath him. The room grew darker still. It was done.
When she came to her senses a minute later, a little bowl was placed in front of her. The young girl dug into the stale dog food, the best that she’d ever had. As she crunched at it, the second dog climbed on top of her, eager to take its turn. The man grabbed another beer and sat next to her, turning up the volume of old TV. Her moans were drowned with the broken sound of a sports commentator. The man gently patted her head as his second hound had his way with her. The first one had already recovered and was eagerly waiting its turn again.
Gabriela closed her eyes. The road here had been so dangerous. But now she was home.
This is an excerpt from the story "The Dangerous Way Home".