I hate my school life. I hate Arthur Gates. He might be hot, but his personality completely overpowers his looks, making him the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. The asshole has ruined five years of my life. For the past five years, I've been the target of his pranks, insults, and public humiliation. Because of him, all but one of my friends have abandoned me to save their 'reputations.'
The worst thing was that it wasn't just him anymore. It was all his friends and their girlfriends. I couldn't even use the bathroom without being harassed. The teachers disregard my situation for some reason. It pissed me off when they said crap about us having a zero-tolerance bullying policy.
I'm going to be a Junior when school starts again. Despite all of the harassment, I've kept an A average for all of my classes. I'm taking Dual Credit classes this year, so I must focus on keeping that average. That means I must get Arthur and his friends to stop harassing me….
Yeah, like I would ever get the opportunity to corner the jackass without his lackeys.
I got that opportunity three weeks before the start of the new school year.
The Dickhead had his big black truck parked in a clearing in the woods I was passing by on my daily run. I hate that the early morning rays of sunlight made the blonde highlights in his short brown hair stand out, and his green eyes look like gems. He looked like a typical teen, sitting on a blanket in the bed of his truck, reading some book while sipping on a thermos.
Seeing his relaxed body tense as I walked into the clearing loudly brought me great satisfaction.
"Gates. Just the douchebag I wanted to see." He glared at me as I walked closer, stopping almost five feet from the truck.
"Are you exercising? Finally, trying to lose some weight? Some advice: stop eating the merchandise. It's a wonder why the Chesters let a glutton work in their establishment."
"How original, Gates. Not like I haven't heard the same thing from your side piece at least a hundred times." Rolling my eyes, I clench my fists to keep myself from covering my stomach self-consciously. "Look, unlike your little groupies, I don't want to be here."
"Then what do you want, Brady?" The intensity of his glare didn't change as we locked eyes.
"Usually, I don't give a flying fuck about what you and your flunkies do to me daily." The confrontation could make things worse for me since he could use the opportunity to make me do something, but I have to take the chance, just once. "This year, I can't waste my time with your shit. You're more reasonable without your friends, so what will it take for all of you to pretend I don't even exist for the rest of your Senior year?"
As I talked, his glare faded into a blank face. It wasn't an expression I'd seen on his face when he looked at me. The emotionless face was putting me on edge. Usually, disgust and anger was the primary emotion Arthur had for me.
"Alright." His whole demeanor changed as he answered in a calm tone. "My friends and I will pretend that you don't exist for the rest of our time in high school. No more pranks or insults. They won't even look at you."
"For what price?" I asked for this, but he's giving in so easily. There had to be a catch.
The hair on the back of my neck and arms stood on end as he slowly got up from his seated position. He jumped off the bed of his truck to stand in front of me, easily towering over my five foot four stature with his six foot two muscular body.
"If we leave you alone in school and out of it, then all you have to do is have sex with me whenever, wherever, for the rest of the year." He was earnest in his statement.
"I have to let you fuck me if I want all of you to leave me alone." My disbelief was practically dripping from my mouth as I repeated his deal. "You could have any girl in the school. I mean, everyone knows that Mikenzie would gladly let you fuck her in front of the whole school if you asked. Why me? You hate me."
Arthur rolled his eyes and leaned back on his truck, crossing his arms. The position made his muscles even more pronounced, and I had to force myself not to follow the movement with my eyes.
"If I wanted an STD, I would do that. I don't want nor need a clingy girl expecting commitment after having sex. And I don't like having someone's sloppy seconds. With this deal, I get to have sex without strings attached, and I know that you haven't kissed anyone, let alone had sex. So are you game, or do you want to spend the rest of your high school life tormented by us?" I didn't think he would explain himself when I asked.
Honestly, I'm not liking how this is going. I thought he would make me do something humiliating or entirely shoot down the idea. To have my freedom, I have to give my bully my virginity and be his sex doll for the foreseeable future. Is a different kind of dominance worth never getting humiliated by them again?
Who am I kidding? Of course, it is.
"Alright, I'm game. But I want some rules and insurance. I don't trust you not to post a picture or video of me in a compromising position." A frown finally breaks his emotionless face.
"I'm not stupid." Of course, he isn't. "Doing something like that could get me jail time. What kind of insurance do you want?"
"I want a video of you admitting that you have been abusing me for years. And we are filming it now." I pulled out my phone from my jacket pocket and pulled out the headphones to videotape him.
"I wasn't abusing you." He practically growled as I started to film him, but I didn't care and raised an eyebrow at him.
"Make sure to say your full name, age, and the date for today. And it is abuse. I have the scars to prove it. Go on." I could swear his eyes flashed gold briefly before he calmed himself enough to glare at my phone.
"Fine. I'm Arthur Derek Gates. It's August the tenth, twenty-twenty. I have abused Sabrina Brady mentally, emotionally, and physically for the past five years." I make a motion to go on, and he glares harder at me. "I guess an example would be the last school day last year. My friends and I had decided to give her a going away gift."
"Being drenched in pig's blood after getting beaten wasn't a gift." I interrupted.
"We didn't beat you. You just suck at dodging." He said it so casually that I nearly started an argument.
I shake my head as I stop recording him, knowing that this was enough for me and any law enforcement if it came to that.
"What rules did you have in mind?" He asked, still glaring and tense against his truck.
"We can tell two people each about this arrangement and no one else." I put a finger up for each rule. "If you want to try anything other than standard missionary sex, you must get my verbal consent. That means if you want to use my ass or mouth, I have to give you consent. If you want to tie my hands, I need to consent. There will be no hanging out or getting to know each other. It's just sex. Unless I specifically say you don't have to use a condom, you always have to put on one before we have sex. And this is completely exclusive, which means no sex with anyone else. We won't start until you get tested, and I'm on birth control. I refuse to take the chance of getting pregnant with your spawn or getting some STD from you. I want these written on paper and to have a copy. There will be no exceptions."
Once again, his whole presence changed from angry to a severe disposition. His eyes ran over my body, making me tense on reflex. I don't know what he was looking for. My spandex pants didn't hide anything, but I had a loose hoodie over my tank top. It wasn't a very 'sexy' outfit. Whatever it was, he seemed to have found since he nodded.
"Okay. How do you want to contact each other? I'm assuming that you won't give me your phone number." He's right; I would never give him my phone number.
"You're right. I won't be giving you my phone number. We'll use emails. You do have one, right?" His serious face twitched at the question.
"Yeah. Here, go ahead and put it in." He handed me his phone.
I opened a new tab on his notes and entered my email address. Once I finished, I handed it back, making a great effort not to touch his hand. Glancing at the time on my phone, I notice that I wasted a lot of time and won't get to take a shower if I try to finish my run now.
"I've got stuff to do. Just email me when you get the results." Not lingering, I walk back into the woods to head home.
I have to say this is the dumbest thing I've ever done.