Even as a kid, she always had her nose in a book. She’d read while walking to school, while brushing her teeth, she used to ride to the library and come home bowed under the weight of her book bag. She was voracious about it, she devoured novels, she worked her way systematically through the library.
When her mum and dad went to shopping malls on the weekend, they often left her in a book store while they got groceries or ran errands, it was easy, she’d just sit in a corner and read and read and read.

She couldn’t quite remember when she first discovered the adult books section. She’d been young, she knew that much. Maybe 11, maybe 12. Every bookstore has one, Borders, Dymmocks, Angus & Robertson – it’s a thin slice of shelf, usually somewhere in between Self Help and Health. She was a kid, she was curious. She’d already found her mum’s copy of the Joy of Sex, she’d felt that hot guilty pressure in her lower stomach, she thought there might be more where that came from in this new genre, this new frontier, ADULT NOVELS. She stood in front of books about portion size and the optimum amount of daily steps and darted her eyes left. Hand outstretched, shaking, trying desperately to seem casual. Slipping out that first volume. Hurrying away to a corner and devouring it in hot, hungry eyefuls; feeling swollen, feeling distended and not knowing why. Clenching her thighs together. Peering around to make sure no one was coming. She wouldn’t want to get caught by her parents. Not with this.

She did that for the next four years. By that time, she could go to the mall by herself. It became a habit, she had to get her fix, the words that made her feel so filthy, made her heart pound, reading them before she even figured out how to masturbate. She always left the store feeling shellshocked, blinking at the fluorescent lights, mind filled with cunt and suck and fuck. Always frustrated that she had to leave. Buying the books that she pored over was out of the question, it’d be so embarrassing and she’d be stared at, she couldn’t shake the idea that those porn books (the word erotica had not yet presented itself to her) had an age limit and that the cashier would alert the police. Why couldn’t she just take them with her..

Then one day she just did. It was easy. She went home that day and climbed into bed and wallowed in it, gorged herself, pain and humiliation, a girl being rutted into like livestock, medical stories with bladder control and restraints, stuff that made her shudder, stuff that opened up a dirty festering shameful hole in her brain. She needed to fill it, she couldn’t get enough. She stole enough books to fill a bookcase. She never got caught. She was invincible.

A hand on her shoulder. She jerked, spinning around, eyes wide. It was the owner of the bookstore, he’d always been nice, he brought out stools for her to sit on and always waved goodbye when she left. Now he was looking straight down at her, his eyes set and serious. “Hey there,” he said. All she could do was blink. The two books in her bag burned against her side.

He held out his hand. “I’m going to have to check your bag, miss.”
She looked up at him, her eyes large and wet and terrified, frozen in place. He sighed slightly and moved to take the schoolbag off her shoulders.

“I took two books. They’re in my bag. I’m really sorry.” The words came tumbling out.

He kept looking at her. His hand remained outstretched. Gulping against the thickness in her throat, she reached her shivering hand into her bag and brought out the books, hot as fire. Oh god, the covers on them. A woman getting spanked, latex outfits, it was ridiculous. She handed them over, eyes on the ground, breath coming in gasps, stomach knotted tight. She was blushing furiously, she could feel the heat staining her neck and face. Staring fixedly at the carpet, she didn’t see his expression as he contemplated the books, and then her. He placed them to the side, made a decision.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Katy,” she mumbled automatically. He lifted her chin with his fingers, forcing them to make eye contact. She trembled, transfixed.

“Well Katy, my name is Stan. I own this store. And I see you in here all the time, you’re practically my favourite customer.” He smiled at her, and the tightness in her chest let up a little. “And I think I’d be doing my favourite customer a disservice if I were to tell anyone about this.. mistake you made. You didn’t really mean to leave without paying for these, did you?”She shook her head wordlessly, hardly daring to hope. “I didn’t think so. A good girl like you wouldn’t do something like that.” A pause. “I’ve got to ask you though Katy, these books are very advanced for someone your age. You seem like a mature young lady, so I’m sure you understand this, but the stories in them, they’re just fantasies. They aren’t real. You know that, right?”

She nodded, still blushing furiously.

“Have you ever read any Anais Nin? No? Well, I can get some in for you. You seem smart, I think you could handle it. In fact..” he walked toward his desk and she followed as if pulled by wire. He opened a door marked ‘Management Only’. “You could even read it out the back here, if you wanted. If you wanted some privacy.”

She cleared her throat, croaked, found her voice. “I wouldn’t have to hide?”
“Oh no, the door even locks.” He smiled at her. “I’ll teach you a secret knock so you’ll know it’s me.”

She felt loose with gratitude. It was all going to be ok. “Thank you so much, I just get so embarrassed out there..”

“No problem, young lady. I know how rude people can be, they just don’t understand.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Oh not at all, I barely use it. There’s a little TV and DVD player in there too, you can just hang out there if you like.”

She tried not to grin like an idiot and failed. “Seriously Stan, this is so cool of you, thank you so much for not telling my parents, they’d freak.”

“No problem at all. Feel free to come in whenever you like.”

She waved goodbye, floated home, head bobbing about three metres above her body.

She visited Stan’s shop the next day and then started going a few times a week. She’d come over after school and just hang out in the back room. He’d come to the door, do the secret knock, she’d jump up and let him in, he’d get some books and go out again. She felt very safe there. Soon she was going every day. Sometimes he gave her movies to watch, or brought her hot chocolate. She’d curl up and read in an armchair and sometimes her hand stole itself into her panties, but the door was locked, it wasn’t a big deal. He got a mini fridge and kept a few beers and ciders in it, and sometimes she nicked one, sipping while her mind crawled with sex and her fingers delved between her legs.

One day when she’d skipped lunch, she drank two ciders too fast. With her mind unravelled a little, she got up and walked around the room, lights dancing under her eyelids. She thought she might watch a movie, maybe Stan had gotten Ratatouille on DVD like he’d said the other day. She saw a blank case.That’s weird, she thought. All the other cases were labelled. Curious, she pushed the disc in and pressed play. The quality was awful, grainy and spotty, but she could make out movement behind the static. Straining her eyes, she tried to focus on what was happening. Ah, that’s got to be a person, a girl, and she’s.. on her hands and knees.. and what-

Sudden realisation. Like a punch to the stomach. Eyes shuttling from side to side.

A knock on the door. The secret knock. She’s frozen.

“Hello?” Knocking again. “You ok in there?”

She tries to draw enough breath to speak. Still paralysed. “Um just hang on..”

“Katy? What’s going on?”

“Nothing I’m fine don’t come in.” The tv. He’ll see. Her brain is screaming at her stupid, uncooperative legs.

“Open the door, Katy.” Keys rattling.

“No, don’t-” Keys in the lock. He opens the door, steps in and closes it quietly, Surveys the scene, looks at her. Looks at the TV screen, where a very young, skinny girl is being mounted by a large Doberman. He smiles.

The words rush out of her, she’s numb and terrified, and ashamed in a way that doesn’t make any sense. “Stan I’m sorry I just the tape and I watched it I didn’t mean to I’m sorry I’m so sorry I’ll just go”

He just smiles. Blocking the door. He gently takes the remote from her. “How about we look at what’s on the end of the tape first, hm? Then you can decide if you still want to leave.” He presses fast forward and the images on the screen flicker past. Bondage. Gang rape.

She swallows and the sound is loud in her ears. “Its getting late I have to go I’m cooking dinner tonight..” Her voice seems to be coming from very far away.

He presses play. “Katy, look.” She looks at the screen dully. A girl in an armchair. Head thrown back a little, enough to see the underline of her jaw. Legs splayed a little. One hand holding a bottle, the other working furiously under her skirt. “It’s you.”

A sick rush of adrenaline, but she still can’t move, only gape, her mind has fled to protect itself. “But how, how did you know”

“There’s a security camera in the light, sweetheart.” He shakes his head, pityingly, but he’s still smiling.

“Oh,” she says in a small voice.

“You’re so dumb.”

She tries to gather her thoughts. “Please Stan, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have watched it but I just wanna go home, I didn’t mean to”

“Shut up.” She flinches. He approaches her, tall, menacing. “Just let this sink in for a moment. I have the disc. I have copies. I can send them to whoever I want. I could send them to your parents. I wonder what they’d think about you, frigging your cunt with a cider in your hand. Do you think they’d understand?”

“Stan no please don’t do that, please please oh god you’ve been so nice and I messed it all up but just don’t do that”

“Oh Katy, Katy, Katy…Nobody’s nice for nothing in this world.” He reaches out, strokes her hair. “I just want you to keep doing it. Only next time.. no panties. And lift your skirt up a little.”

Hand caressing her cheek. The sheer inappropriateness of it makes her clumsy and awkward, she can’t tell him to stop. She doesn’t even think she has the right to tell him no, not after what she did.

”I’m going to let you go now. And you’ll be back here at the same time tomorrow.”She tries to twist her face away. He steps back, casually backhands her across the face. Her cheek numb at first, then filled with heat. She can taste blood on the underside of her lips.

“Stop sniffling.” She manages to get herself partway under control, breathes in, blurts out “Why are you hurting me-” and dissolves into tears.

CRACK. “I said stop. Go on, bite your lips. Get yourself the fuck under control. Straighten out.” He waits, looks at her.”That’s it. Deep breath. Nothing has to change, Katy.”

She looks up at him. Flat red marks on each cheek. Puffy eyes, nose running, eyes simultaneously wild and glassy. She struggles for a second to speak. “I just have to come b-back tomorrow?” A nod of the head, yes. His gaze is approving.” You won’t tell anyone?”

He shakes his head. “I just want to watch the tapes myself. I won’t show them to anyone. I find you so attractive, Katy.”

Confused, whirling emotion. “You do? You really do?”

He grins, grabs her hand, forces it against his crotch. She doesn’t resist. “Feel that. Look how hard you’ve made me.” She’s speechless, it’s so hot, so rigid, it’s so rude what he’s doing, she feels like she’s in a tunnel, all sensation reduced to a single point.

“Go on, unzip it. Do it now. Now. Pull it out now, go on..”

“But I’ve never done that before,” she chokes out.

“You have now. Just rub it up and down. That’s it…good girl…Yes, faster…fuck…”

He pulls her closer and spunks huge gobs of cum all over her shirt. Her mouth working, lip chewing, trying to compartmentalise. He reaches down and wipes his dick on her skirt. Pats her on the head. Hand on the small of her back, opens the door, pushes her outside and locks it. Leaving her to clean up and flee the best she can.