He doesn't give one

Betsie knew she was in deep shit. She also knew it was about to get a lot deeper if she didn't do something about it, and quick. "Please," she begged, still kneeling at Tom's feet. She looked up. One hope. "Please, for the next hour I'll fuck you." Betsie felt like she just made a deal with the Devil. "I know you've always wanted me, well here I am." Betsie kissed his crotch before standing and kissing Tom on his lips. "You don't have to tell me to do anything. My Mum's out so I have the house to myself." Betsie tried to keep a smile on her face. This is the last thing she wanted to do but gambled it was better than whatever was running through Tom's perverted mind. At least she would have some degree of control.

"Really?" Tom asked not really believing his luck. Betsie nodded her head and fought back the tears. "Awesome! Let's go!" He grabbed Betsie's hand and pulled her towards her own house. However Betsie went the other way. They both looked at each other, confused. A frown appeared on Tom's brow.

Betsie was confused as to why she wasn't going home. It was only when she saw Tom holding his own dick, as if to make sure it was still there, that the lights went on. "I need my parcel," Betsie said, remembering her mother's words.

Tom made an show of slapping himself on his forehead as if he had just forgotten the most obvious thing in the world. "Doh!" Tom practically skipped back, "I'll get it!" He grabbed the parcel and closed the front door. "Awesome. Let's go."

Betsie took a deep sign. The word 'awesome' was becoming really annoying; yet she knew it would not be the most annoying thing to happen in the next hour. She couldn't help but get a sinking feeling in her stomach as she approached her own house. Betsie wondered what she had just agreed to. She needed an escape, a way out, a miracle. Just then her phone rang. It was her mother. Betsie had never been happier to have her mum call her.

There was only one thought as Betsie answered the phone: Save me!