Professional Hazard

Emma sighed as she flipped through the channels at the Jenkins’ house. They didn’t have any of the good stations, something she should have remembered. If she had she would have brought a book or movie. Mrs. Jenkins was out of town for her sister’s wedding and Mr. Jenkins had gone out with some friends for a “guy’s night.” She was about to start looking through their DVDs when Mr. Jenkins opened the front door and walked in, along with one of his friends. Emma jumped, startled. He was home three hours early!

Mr. Jenkins smiled when he saw her and started to walk in her general direction. He and his friend were obviously drunk; both smelled of beer and neither seemed to be able to walk in a straight line.

“Hey Emma,” Bob Jenkins slurred when he stopped in front of her. “Sorry we’re early…wanted you to meet my friend David.”

“Hello sir, nice to meet you,” Emma said, striving for politeness as she held out her hand.

David hesitated before accepting it, studying the vision in front of him. Drunk or not, he could hardly fail to recognize the girl’s young age – she was in tenth grade according to his friend. That tight blouse did little to conceal the developing mounds beneath, and only a priest-in-training might fail to notice the girl’s finely shaped hips, denim-covered crotch and politically correct little ass.

The face had its own unique appeal. Bright blue eyes that shone with the promise and tease of youth. Just the smallest hint of eye-shadow, blush and lip gloss. Pretty hair whose color could not be called red or brunette but appeared almost a dark chestnut. It fell in well-groomed curls to her shoulders. The girl’s high cheeks and flawless complexion combined further to intoxicate almost every male she came into contact with.

David took her delicate hand in a bear-like grip and started to shake enthusiastically. He was chortling and snorting, he obviously found something extremely amusing. Emma wasn’t amused. Her hand had started to hurt and she had a sick sensation in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want to leave the children when their father was in this state, but she sure as hell didn’t want to stay either. She tried to pull her hand free, but David tightened his grip. She wrenched harder, desperate now to get away from the large man. Far from coming free, David’s grip tightened even harder and he pulled her into his chest. His other hand grabbed her hair and he wrenched her face up to his.

“We’re all gonna have some fun tonight little slut,” he growled lustily. Emma’s eyes widened and filled with tears at the dawning realization of her situation. She was in a house with two men, two drunken men who were much stronger than her. There was no one to help her; her parents didn’t expect her home for another three to four hours. They could do what they wanted to her and no one would know until it was too late.

In desperation she began to plead with Bob, knowing that of the two he was more likely to have compassion. “Please Mr. Jenkins; you don’t want to do this. Think of your wife, your children…if you let me go now I won’t tell anyone what happened. Please sir, I’m begging you to let me go.”

Bob looked momentarily unsure; maybe a small flicker of sobriety was shining through the inebriated fog. Emma never knew for certain however because David slapped her hard. Emma stumbled back in shock and would have fallen if not for David’s hand still gripping her arm. Her face stung and she felt her cheek flushing a bright red. “Shut up! I don’t wanna hear your whining! Fucking slut…”

Emma wanted to tell him she wasn’t a slut, that she had never even let her boyfriend fondle her. She knew now though that any defiance on her part would only lead to more pain from David. Bob wasn’t going to stop this. He was either too drunk or maybe even afraid of David’s retaliation if he said anything. Emma suspected it was a little of both.

She made an effort to stifle her sobs and stand silent before them. Tears still leaked from the corners of her eyes but they were the only indication of her horror. She couldn’t fight them, couldn’t stop them but she could try to walk away from this with her dignity intact.

“That’s better little Emma,” David crooned, stroking her hair in a gross imitation of affection. “You may even like this baby. Now tell me, are you a virgin?”

Emma nodded slowly, wary of the way the two men’s eyes lit up. “Did you hear that Bob? We got ourselves a genuine first timer.” They led the girl over to the couch and David pushed her down.