An unexpected offer

Alison takes a deep breath, and then seems to come to some internal decision.

“I can't give myself to you, Mr. Patterson.” She licks her lips nervously, “but you could take what I owe you.” The way Alison stresses the work 'take' makes me look at her in shock. “I don't lock the bedroom door, Mr. P, you could slip into my room while I was sleeping and overpower me. Then you can do whatever you wanted.”

“I'm not going to **** you, Angel” I put a stop to this crazy idea of hers, but Alison refuses to surrender without a fight.

“It's not like that.” Alison's wide eyes are pleading with me. “It would solve all our problems, Mr. P,” she takes a deep breath and continues intently, "I trust you, Mr. Patterson. I'm sure you'd be better than Richard, and if you just took what you wanted ...” I stare at her in disbelief as she stumbles to a halt, trying to find anything to change the topic, because I am having trouble meeting her sweet gaze.

“How'd a nice girl like you ever end up with an asshole like that?” The words pop out of my mouth before I can stop them, but Alison doesn't try to defend the man as she climbs off my lap and sits by my side.

“The first time was last spring.” Alison starts hesitantly, “I had just gotten into a fight with my parents. I wanted to stay here in Connecticut over the summer - I had an internship lined up and everything - but my dad said I needed to come back home and work in the garage.” She pauses to wipe the smudges from her eyes and then takes a deep breath and continues in a rush. “My roommate talked me into going to a party, and there was this band playing in the basement. Richard was the guitarist and he looked so bad with his tattoos and leather vest. I wished I could just tell the world to 'fuck off' like he was with his lyrics.”

“I guess he noticed me staring at him because after the second set he came over and...” She stumbles to a halting stop looking up at me for some kind of understanding. When I smile and nod she tries to explain.

“I thought he was going to say hi, but he just pushed me against the wall and kissed me. Not a nice kiss like yours, Mr. P. He tasted like beer and sweat and his tongue...” Alison's eyes are starting to tear up again, “I'd never been French kissed before, and I was so shocked I just let him kiss and grope me in that dark basement. I remember thinking that my dad would have a conniption if he knew what I was doing.” The whole thing is starting to make a little more sense, but Alison still has more to say so I keep my mouth shut and listen to her as she explains how she let Dick lead her up to an empty bedroom and pulled her down with him onto the bed.

“Didn't you try to stop him?” I ask, both angry at Dick and marveling at how lucky that bastard got when he dragged this naïve small-town girl onto that bed.

“I tried to, I swear Mr. P!” She whispered, “I struggled and told him 'no', but he just kept going. Then he got my jeans off and next thing I knew he was inside me.” Her eyes drop in shame. “He didn't even know I was a virgin.” Her hands were shaking in mine, but she is determined to get it all out. “When he saw the blood on the sheets, he thought I was on my period and got mad at me for messing up the bedding.” With a sniff she pulls her hands free from mine and covers her face. “That was how I lost my most precious gift, Mr. P. To some guy who didn't even know my name or what he did.”

“It wasn't your fault, Angel.” I tell her, but she doesn't buy it.

“Wasn't it Mr. P? I went to the party and I let him take me to the bedroom, didn't I?” She asks bitterly, “And once he put his thing inside me, I didn't even fight him. I just lay there crying and let him fuck me. It hurt, Mr. P, it hurt so bad but I got excited by it too.”

“That doesn't change what happened, Honey.” I do my best to correct this dangerous self-hate. “Why do you put up with him?” She sniffs again and pulls her hands away so she can look me in the face. “When Richard comes over we don't make love, Mr. P, not like you think. I get so tense that he has to **** my legs apart, and when he's done I can't move.” That might explain why Dick doesn't stick around, but it makes me want to punch him more than ever; Alison however is still talking and she deserves my undivided attention.

“My mother told me that on my wedding night, my husband would lie with me like that and that that painful moment of union would bind me to him forever.” Alison shakes her head sadly. “It's pathetic, Mr. P, but I can't help think that I belong to him now.”

“This isn't some John Norman fantasy, Angel.” The reference to the Gor books is of course completely lost on her, but I press on with my point. “Men don't claim and own women that way.”

“I know that, Mr. P. but I let him do it anyways - as punishment because I'm a sinful whore.”

“You don't need punishment.” I tell her firmly “You need to lose that piece of shit.” I take her hand in mine and give it a squeeze. “You are a wonderful young woman, Alison; you're not a whore.”

“Aren't I?” She asks pointedly, “I thought you were asking me to sleep with you in exchange for my rent?” Her other hand moves to rest on mine lightly, “all I'm saying is that I couldn't stop you. We could both get what we want...”