I was also scared that he might call the cops or tell everyone at school, so I did as I was told.I felt pathetic standing in front of another guy wearing an 11 year old’s clothes. After I got them on, he just stood there and shook his head with a grin on his face. Then, as if he was talking to a baby, Brandon said “awww, who’s a cute little princess?”.In a more serious voice he said, “that’s right. You’re my bitch now. You do whatever I want. Now get on your knees”. I listened to Brandon because I knew he was pretty angry that I was watching him, and I knew that if I didn’t listen he might get violent. I got on my knees and he made me crawl over to him on all fours. First, Brandon stuck his foot in my face. I was surprised because it didn’t have a scent at all. He made me kiss it for a little while too. Then he went and sat down and made me crawl over to him. Before I knew it, Brandon had grabbed me and threw me over his knees. He threw the skirt up above my waist. Without warning,. I could tell he knew this was absolutely torturing me. Our noses were side by side; his brow was on my mine. The only feature of our faces that wasn’t touching was our lips. I imagined what kissing him would be like, almost like finding the missing piece, a connection I had never experienced before. I felt his hand slide under mine palm up. He gripped his fingers around the base of my wrist. We were so close; I wondered why he wouldn’t just kiss me already. Was he waiting for me? Our foreheads connected, I pushed towards him. He exhaled, our faces still touching, our lips barely. His breath smelled like cinnamon and coffee. I took it in and just as I was savoring how close we were, I felt a shock run through me, all the way from my toes through my lips. He had finally obliterated the distance between us. He kissed me. I treasured every moment. He kissed me softly at first then became more aggressive. The connection was palpable. We both could not get enough of each other. I felt.
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