But I try calling for help anyway.

I try to call out for help. To tell someone that I'm getting **** outside against my will. In my mind I form the idea, but when I try to get my mouth to cooperate, my lips barely move, and just a slurred noise tumbles out.

Next I try to play dead, to go limp in his arms, but my body won't even respond to that, and I realize I already am limp in his arms. Patrons of the bar snicker and point at the lucky geek who managed to land himself a chubby drunk girl.

My eyes glance around, but the room won't stop spinning, and I can't make eye contact to plead with anyone.

Then we're outside and I can't tell where we're going but I end up in a van on my back with the geek standing over me. He smiles wide and closes the door to the van behind him. He already has his cock out, and strokes it a few times over my face. The smell is even worse with his pants open, and he reeks of dried piss and cum.

"Open up sweety," he says.