Red Wine?

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic


A girl goes on a date with an older man thinking she's got it under control. Story based around young girls using sex as a way of self-harming.



tw: sexual abuse, rape

Submitted: April 07, 2018

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Submitted: April 07, 2018

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“Do you prefer red or white?” he said holding up two different bottles of wine, both looking unexpectedly semi-expensive.

“Red. Definitely red.”

He chuckled. One of his front teeth was crooked.

“So you’re that kind of a girl?”

She smiled back at him. Kept eye contact while he poured up the glasses. His apartment hadn’t been as fancy as she had anticipated. With its beige walls, wooden floor, and vintage furniture it almost looked like an old lady's home. However, there was far less decor, only some wilted flowers, and posters of Led Zeppelin. No pictures of any children either, at least none in sight.

"I don't actually drink wine that often. Only when I get special visits. Such as yourself." 

Unlike his words his tone was meek. His eyes kept flickering to all the places clothes couldn't cover her skin.

"I'm the first one in a while, right?"

Again, the awkward chuckle. The crooked tooth started to bug her.

"Yeah you are, not gonna lie... I'm a little scared to admit but I was actually really surprised when someone like you matched with me on Tinder and even more so when you agreed to go on a date. I don't know it just... I mean I'm flattered don't get me wrong. But I just couldn't wrap my head around why. You must have a fetish for sad, pathetic, lonely guys like me. Wait I -. Sorry I shouldn't have said that oh god what is wrong with me...?"

She knew this was an act to gain sympathy. Although they used different tactics the goal was always to get her in bed.

"Aw, it's okay. I matched with you because not only were you handsome as hell but you also seemed really caring and just overall a sweet guy. I don't care if you're sad, pathetic or lonely - not that I think you are - because that's just what other's see. I see more than that, I see what's underneath and I think it's absolutely beautiful. Now, let us toast on that."

She only took a small sip out of the glass. Even though she had seen him pour the drink you could never know for sure what really was in there. He, on the other hand, emptied almost a fourth of what was in it.

"You're the first and only female who has ever said something like that. I'm not used to talking about my feelings but it was really warming to hear something like that."

"I tell it like it is." she said in a sort of cocky manner yet not too far over the line.

"I like that in a woman. Or girl. I like that in you. It's...different. You're not like other girls are you?" he said, now while making a smile more confident than before. Knowing that this was just the way he wanted it she played along.

"You're right... All my friends just like boys from school. But those guys only want sex. I can see through them all so easy. That was how I broke the code. Older guys just...give me a lot more than that, you know?"

She felt so dumb saying that but obviously, it worked because his smile was growing more confident every word she spoke.

"Yes, I think you're absolutely right. I knew you were more than just a pretty face. You're really intelligent, Maxine."

He was using her name. Or well, alias actually. Nevertheless, he was definitely trying to undermine her. She needed to turn the tables.

"Don't forget my body, Walter Allen." she laughed.

He joined in on the laughter and emptied the glass further. It was almost empty and he grabbed the bottle to fill it up once again.

~

Alcohol was his way of giving in to the desire. A blockage to common sense and a clearance for lust. The wine actually had some liquor in it, he had poured that not only into the bottle but also into himself minutes before she had arrived. Maxine wasn't drinking much. It was understandable, her neat little body probably couldn't handle too much.

"Yes, Maxine your body is wonderful too. But I don't want you to think that's what I'm all about. It's you."

It was true. She was like no one he had ever met before. Young, full of life and yet there was a certain darkness surrounding her. He couldn't tell where it was coming from but he could definitely sense it. He too had lived in a darkness his whole life so he knew the expressions it'd take in other people. Her darkness, however, unlike his, was alluring.

"That's what I'm talking about! All you old men I've met with are such sweethearts."

Did she say that on purpose? He didn't want to think about other men with her. She was so pure, like a porcelain doll. But she was his porcelain doll. She had matched with HIM, she had met with HIM, was drinking HIS wine. He tried to hide his self-consciousness and jealousy but noticed it was showing.

"Oh yeah? You've been with others like me?"

Suddenly her smile quickly turned into a more worried expression. Had he caught her saying something she initially wasn't gonna say?

"N-no I just meant in general. Like...the ones I've met."

"Good. I want to be your first."

He knew he shouldn't have said that. It was too much and the before so confident Maxine seemed to shrug back. But he couldn't control it now, the alcohol was getting to him. He took the bottle and chugged it half empty. Fuck it.

"You are my first. Or, you will be very soon. If...if you want to." 

The way she said it was so incredibly beautiful. So innocent yet brave. Her voice sounding like it was dipped in honey. The room started to spin. She was his only focus. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Her collarbones were showing underneath the straps on that adorable silk dress. He reached out his hand and slowly caressed them.

A giggle. "Why don't you touch these too?" She grabbed his hand and brought it to her breasts. They were the smallest but also softest breasts he ever had touched. He couldn't get enough of them so he brought his other hand too. She kept giggling. It was a cute childish giggle he'd never get tired of. He needed more. The desire had taken over him. He could picture it in his head. It was like a black mist that filled all of his veins, up to his brain and took control of the things he did next.

Maxine laying on the couch, completely naked. Silk dress on the floor. A body undescribably beautiful. It was nothing like in the movies he had watched. Her body was so much more glowing. His hands were all over her body. Caressing every inch of her. Fingers inside of her. It wasn't enough. He wanted her so bad he could have cut her up and lived inside of her. And he couldn't stop. Not when she seemed to get uncomfortable. Not when she started to say no. Not when she screamed.

~

Catelyn was up late that night, re-watching old episodes of her favorite guilty pleasure tv-show Dr. Phil. They were just about to introduce the dad who had sexually abused his 12-year old daughter when she heard muffled screams. At first she thought it had to be a sound effect from the tv show. She paused it to be sure. The screams continued. With the exception of full volume heavy metal from the upstairs apartment, loud sounds this late at night weren't common at all in this building. Especially not screams from what to seemed to be a fairly young girl. Catelyn started to get really worried. The walls were thick and for the screams to be heard they must be really loud. She looked down at the screen, at the young abuse victim. She looked so young yet so broken. Would she ever be able to experience the joy of sex without getting haunting flashbacks? Would the memories eventually disappear and make living a bit easier? Unfortunately, Catelyn was pretty sure the answer to both those questions was a solid 'no'. Even if those screams were just her neighbor practicing for a role in a play or any other excuse she could think of, she needed to make sure no one was getting hurt.

Dressed in her 10-year-old PJ and armed with an umbrella she went outside her apartment. The screams were louder out there. She could hear where they were coming from now. It was the apartment two doors away from her, the one belonging to Mr. Allen. Although she had never actually had spoken to him, he gave her the creeps. Fluttering, egg-shell colored skin, hair that looked just like the wig they were selling in the wig shop two blocks away (and probably was) and tiny, watery eyes that never could keep eye contact with her more than two seconds before they were staring directly at her breasts were the characteristics she remembered him by. He didn't seem to go out much. Mail was sometimes stacked outside his door. One time there had been a box addressed to him and when Catelyn had looked at the label it had said "ddlg fetish store". When Catelyn later had googled the abbreviation 'ddlg' she had become disgusted with what she had found. He was definitely a creep and the more Catelyn thought about it, the more it made sense that screams of a young girl would come from his apartment.

At first, she knocked but then quickly realized no one was gonna open. She started kicking and banging the door, screaming for someone to open. Now the screams started to change. Rather than just being vowels the girl was now screaming "help". Catelyn didn't know what to do. She wasn't the police, she didn't have the ability to knock down a door. She twitched the handle on the door. To her surprise, it opened. She felt stupid but didn't have time to reflect on it for the screams were now coming like a shockwave. So loud and full of panic. The inside of the apartment was dark, all she could see was light coming from around the corner down the hall where the living room was located. It was also the source of the screaming. Catelyn's legs felt spaghetti-like and she was trembling onto the umbrella. But this wasn't the time to pussy out. Even if Catelyn was only 23 and quite skinny she had muscles from her young years when she had practiced martial arts. If someone was gonna save this girl she was the right woman for the job.

There was no point in taking it slow so with powerful, decisive steps Catelyn advanced down the hallway. Afterward, everything happened really fast. She turned to her right. There was a vintage sofa. A big, hairy back over something smaller and screaming. A silk dress and a man's wig on the floor. What was she gonna do with the umbrella? It wasn't even that pointy. Quickly she looked around the room for a better weapon to use. A wine bottle on the sofa table. It was perfect. She dropped the umbrella, circled the couch so that she could get a better angle. Grabbed it then smashed it with all of her power onto Mr. Allen's back. The body collapsed. Red everywhere. In the dim lights, she couldn't tell what was wine and what was blood. One last scream, louder than all the ones before and then the screaming stopped. Catelyn realized the girl still must be underneath Mr. Allen. While feeling a bit of regret that she couldn't have thought of a better plan she pushed away Mr. Allen and dumped him on the floor. He was heavy and the fall was cruel. Catelyn didn't give a fuck. Instead, she turned to the girl.

Judging by her fragile, naked body the girl couldn't be any older than seventeen. Her brown hair was a complete mess, her face smeared with makeup. To Catelyn's relief, the girl was conscious. She didn't bother asking if the girl was alright because obviously, she wasn't.

"There we go. You're safe now. Come here." she said, lifted her up and placed her on the left side of the couch where there were no glass pieces from the bottle. The screams had turned into heavily sobbing.

"I...He...I just wanted to feel control and he..." the girl stuttered.

"Shh it's okay, you don't need to explain yourself. You've done absolutely nothing wrong and he's nothing but a disgusting creep. Things are gonna get better from now on."

And things did seem to get better from there on. Catelyn called the police who arrived just before Mr. Allen awoke to consciousness. Although hesitant at first, Catelyn managed to convince the girl to take this matter to court. There she won the case. Catelyn was there as a witness and Mr. Allen got sent to prison. It was a terrible story but it had a rather happy ending.

~

3 months later

Maxine: So 8 pm at Oak Avenue 78c?

Gabriel: You got it.

Maxine: And there'll be wine at your apartment?

Gabriel: Anything for you, princess

Maxine: Great. Make it red ;)


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