[WARNING – This content is for mature readers only! If you are easily disturbed by violence, especially sexual violence, read no further.]
It was Friday night, and Tommy sat in his room, exploring the Internet with his WEB browser. Friday night, and all his friends were out. Billy with Jill. Sam with Robin. Frank with Sharon. Every one of the guys with a girl.
Tommy sat in his room. Looking at the only girls he could look at. The ones on the ‘Net. “Let the bitches talk to the other guys.” He checked his firewall, and security software before clicking on the link, and declaring he was old enough.
“Are you over eighteen?” He laughed. “Twenty-fucking-two. Yeah. I’m over eighteen.” That let him through to the pictures and the videos.
“I asked her! Goddamnit, I asked!” He had. He’d asked Diane, the hot red-head at work, if she’d like to go to dinner.
“With you?” She’d laughed. Laughed, damn-it! “I’d have to be out of my mind!” She’d walked off, laughing.
“Yeah. Bitch.” Tommy watched the screen, as a guy tied a girl up. Tied her hands to posts, her knees to her wrists. Then he took all her clothes off. “Yeah. I know what I’d like to do to you.” He imagined it was Diane the guy was tieing up. He imagined he was the guy. “I know exactly what I’d do!”
He watched the video, as the man had his way with the girl. As he did anything he wanted. Everything he wanted. She couldn’t stop him. She pleaded. She begged. But he did what he wanted.
He watched every detailed picture. Then, he connected to the mesh network. He had to talk about things. With his guys. His buds. They talked about being turned down. About no one dating them. No one even going to dinner. About what they wanted. What they’d like to do. “Girls are for screwing. That’s what we’d do.”
Their conversation quickly grew to five guys, then twenty-five. And it kept growing. Guys from all over, not just guys in town. “All of us. Sitting at home. ‘Cause we can’t get any.” He typed the words. And saw the answers. One “Yes!” after another.
Except for a couple of guys. “Maybe we shouldn’t ask any more.”
Tommy couldn’t help it, “What do you mean?”
“If we can’t get anywhere by asking, maybe we shouldn’t ask?”
It was Friday night. Tommy was at home. Alone. His high school girlfriend had left. “I’ll be free of you!” That’s what she’d said. Hell, she’d never even let him kiss her. He couldn’t hold her, kiss her, or anything. And she left for college. And he’d been dateless since.
“Yeah. Maybe we should stop asking.”
“And start taking.”
They all said that. They all agreed. “It’s Friday. And the night is young!”
Tommy called his friends Ted and Phil. They were part of the mesh network. They knew what was going on. “Let’s stop asking.”
They got together, went out. Patrolled a few bars, a few clubs. Found a girl. Walking by herself. At night. Alone. They didn’t ask.
Tommy slept well that night. He’d done everything he wanted. So had Ted and Phil. And that little bitch hadn’t been able to stop him. He and the boys had fun. So much fun, they agreed to do it again. Next Friday night.
So did all the guys on the network. “I needed that. It felt good.”
“I got what I wanted. I took what I wanted.”
Tommy knew what he’d do. What they’d all do. If no one would give them what they wanted. They’d take it. They’d do what they wanted. Girls were meant to be fucked. And fuck them they would. No more games. No more playing around.
Next Friday, Tommy, Ted, and Phil would do what they wanted to Diane. The red-head. The one too good for him. She’d learn.
And Tommy knew, he’d sleep damn good every that Friday night. Damn good indeed.
This is my entry for week 50 of Jeff Tsuruoka‘s Mid-Week Blues-Buster flash fiction challenge. The song this week is “Dogs Of Lust” by The The. A dangerous song indeed. Please, go read the other stories in the challenge.