The Urinal — Part 1

Chapters 3 and 4

3.

Val left messages at Nancy's home and office telephones, dressed and readied himself for confronting the girl. He started a pot of coffee for him and her and tried to put his mind in order. He needed to apologize to her, needed to call Frank or Bob or someone and have them take her. And he needed for her to get dressed; it was awkward for him being around her nakedness.

He poured two cups of coffee and carried them into the bathroom. She looked up at him, kneeling in the tub, her hands holding the cold faucet. Her head had been supported by her arm; he could see a red mark on her forehead. She smiled, tried to turn sideways.

She'd peed in the tub and the whole room smelled of urine. Val smiled back at her, set the cups on the edge of the sink and unlocked her wrists. "I'm sorry I hit you," he said. "I shouldn't have, for any reason. It's not your fault. It's not . . ."

She looked up at him, rose on her knees as she held out her hands and moaned through her open mouth. For the first time with her Val became erect which made everything even more embarrassing.

"No," he said. "I brought you coffee."

She quieted immediately, dropped her hands and settled back on her heels. "Ummmm?" she said. The rising inflection made it seem a question.

He sat on the toilet and crossed his legs, ignoring her smile. He could see her better at daytime. She wasn't as pretty as Nancy but no one would ever call her plain or ugly. He saw for the first time the network of fine scars across her forehead and bridge of her nose. They weren't obvious, but once he'd seen them they caught his eye. She had a tattoo on her right shoulder, something like a fish caught in a spider web, done in blue and black ink with shading, but like most of the tattoos unfinished. An outline, without shading, dropped down almost to her breast. Her nipples were small and pink. He raised his eyes to her face. "You can't stay here. We'll . . ." There was a knock on his door. Whoever it was, was impatient. "I'll be back in a minute."

He opened the door and three large men faced him. The one in front spoke.

"Bob said you might need help feeding the whore."

The two behind him grinned.

"We're having coffee, I don't know you, and . . ." He froze when she moaned behind him.

"Coffee's not what she wants. Is your name Val? Val." The big man looked over Val's shoulder. "Hi, sweetheart. Remember us?" He spoke differently to the girl, almost as if she were a child.

Val felt her try to pass him. The last thing he wanted his neighbors to see was her out on his porch, doing god knows what. "You'd better come in." He backed away from the door; she went around him and jumped in the arms of the big man.

"Just like a bitch in heat," the man said. "You hungry, sweetie?"

The girl wiggled in his arms and said, "Ummm." Val couldn't see the faces she was making over the man's shoulder at the others but both were grinning. One gave her a little wave.

"I need to talk to Bob," Val said.

The man's hands opened, "Down girl," and she dropped gracefully to the floor. The door closed behind them. As she opened his pants he said, "Bob and Frank left early this morning. They won't be back for three months."

"I was told three weeks."

"Three months at the least. That's a good girl." The man looked up at Val, "Look at the bitch go at it."

Val sat on his couch as three strange men got blowjobs from the crazy girl in his living room. He felt embarrassed and left out as the four went about doing something they'd obviously done before. She was finishing off the third when the first asked him, "Will you need us to give her a ride tonight?" He looked hopeful.

Val shook his head. "No. We're okay." He was going to call Jerry, someone as soon as they left.

"Still hungry, sweetheart?"

She stopped, gave a nod, and returned to bobbing her head over the third man's crotch.

"Can we use your bathroom, Val?" The man rose to his feet.

Val heard her choke and swallow. He looked back at the big man.

"That's a mighty fine ass but I wouldn't touch it without two condoms on at least," the big man said. "Probably not safe then either. The mouth, that's different. I read somewhere spit kills germs." The second man sitting on the couch nodded. "Ready bitch?" He hooked a finger through a loop on her collar and pulled her over to him. "The bathroom is where?"

Val sat back. "She knows."

"Good girl." The man followed her, turned briefly to Val, "Isn't she a good girl?"

"You're a good girl," Val said to their backs.

He called in sick at work while they were in the bathroom, got another cup of coffee and sat on the couch. The first thing he'd do was get her dressed, after cleaning her up, and they'd go out and get her some clothes. By then he should have reached Jerry or someone and they could take her off his hands. Which left Nancy and he had no idea what he'd tell Nancy. The truth? Even if he did, would she believe him?

The girl remained in the bathroom, quiet, when the men came out. They sat on the couch across from him, grins on their faces. "If you need anything, call us." The first man put an envelope on the coffee table. "My name's Bert, this here's Jeff and that's Juan. We'll be by tomorrow. Number's on here, Val. You need anything call me. You can leave a message and I'll get right back with you."

"Thanks," Val said, he stood.

"Time to get to work, boys." Bert stood. "See you, sweetie," he shouted. He walked up to Val and said in a low voice, "You take good care of the whore, hear?"

Val nodded.

"Good boy, Val. You're a lucky man. What'd I do to be in your shoes."

"You could be in my shoes, Bert. I find I'm . . ."

"Too busy, Val. The whore needs a man who appreciates her many fine qualities."

"Bert's married," Juan said.

"And my wife wouldn't appreciate my keeping a fine bitch like that chained to the bed."

"Pussy whipped," Juan said and hit Bert on the arm.

"Pussy whipped but as long as that bitch," Bert pointed to the bathroom, "sucks my cock I'm a happy man."

Val shut the door after them, carried his coffee cup into the bathroom and sat heavily on the toilet. The girl was licking the bathtub clean. Her skin glistened and the room stank of urine. Val crossed his legs and held the cup on his knee. "You don't need to do that."

She turned to him, smiled and returned to licking, this time slowly, her eyes on him.

"We're going out shortly to get you clothes."

She shrugged, wiped her chin with her wrist and licked her wrist. The girl raised her eyes. "Ummm." She dropped back to her hands and knees and resumed licking the tub.

"Please stop."

She held her tongue against the tub and looked sideways at him.

"You know what I mean. How old are you?"

She shrugged, licked the tub by the drain, making slurping noises.

"Eighteen?" She ignored him. "Nineteen?" He continued up to thirty-seven and she never responded. "Sixteen? Seventeen? Ten?" He stood. "I give up. Bathe and when you're clean we'll go out." He left her, went to his computer and wrote emails. The email to Bob was short and sweet: "You fucker." The email to Nancy, to her personal and university addresses was also simple: "Please call. I can explain. It's not what you think. It was one of Bob's pranks."

He heard the shower run, made them breakfast. She came out, sat across from him in the dining area and gave a grin. She hadn't bothered to dry off.

"Here's toast. If you want eggs or cereal let me know. Another cup of coffee?"

She pushed the juice and toast away from her, rested her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands. "Ummm," she said.

"Ummm to you. No name, right?"

She nodded, licked her lips suggestively.

Val looked away. His cellphone rang. He picked it up from the table, saw it was Nancy at work. "Nancy."

"Val, don't you ever call me." She hung up.

He set the cellphone on the table. The girl was humming, no tune, just a random lulling sound. "Damn you," he said.

She grinned, said, "Ummm?" with the rising inflection.

"You know what I mean," he wanted to add bitch and hit her. He wanted to hurt the girl. He shut the door to his bedroom and sat on his bed. He was pissed at Nancy too for not even giving him a chance to explain. He couldn't explain a thing, not so it made sense, but still he wanted a chance to try.

He felt empty.

Eventually he got up, went into the dining area and took her collar. "Em, we're going to get you dressed."

He'd considered just shoving her out his front door and locking it behind her. He didn't because he thought she'd stay on his doorstep all day and moan and the neighbors would see her and call the police. He wanted to do this right. The girl was crazy. It wasn't her fault; she needed help. He'd help her.

4.

At the mall, Val took the girl into a store that looked like it might have clothes that were appropriate. He barely knew the difference between Talbots, The Gap and Victoria's Secret except Victoria's Secret didn't look like the style he had in mind for her. Jeans and blouse, shoes of some sort, and feminine stuff. Right now she wore a pair of his jeans (too big), shirt (too big) and flip-flops. Except for the shorn head she looked kind of cute. With her grinning at every man she saw, shaved head, and steel collar (all too obvious - he didn't have a hacksaw so it remained for the moment) they attracted too much attention.

She wasn't any help at all and the clerks stayed away from them. The girl hummed and watched the mall concourse, making small oh sounds every time she saw a male.

Val selected several jeans and blouses and handed them to her. "Try these on." He turned back to the rack to look some more. He was absorbed in the difference between petites, misses and juniors when he heard a giggle. He turned around and saw the girl standing naked, her back to him, front to the large window onto the concourse, clothes lying in a scatter on the floor. Val saw the clerks talking, obviously he and the girl were more excitement than they'd had for a while.

"Em, get your clothes on." She turned to him slowly, rotating at the waist. She pointed to her mouth.

"We'll eat in a bit. Get dressed. You can't act like that here. Em." He raised his voice, glanced over to the clerks. "Get dressed now."

The girl shrugged. She bent to pick up a blouse. "Ummm."

"That one fit?"

She tried it on and it was too small.

"We can't do that here like this." He picked up all her clothes, pulled her past the clerks, "Sorry," he said to them, pushed her into a dressing room.

When he shut the half door, the door didn't go to the sill or the header, the girl's face became radiant. She fell onto her knees before him and fumbled with his pants, moaning softly.

Val pushed her hands away. "No, Em." He shoved the clothes at her. "Try these on."

Nothing fit. Nothing was even close to fitting.

"Wait here," he said and left her. The clerks pretended they were busy when he walked up to the counter.

"I need to buy clothes for the woman over there. Could you help me? Do you have something her size?"

The blonde asked, "What's her size?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." He tried to look as helpless as he felt.

The blonde turned to the brunette and arched her eyebrows. The brunette studied him for a second, said, "I'll help you."

"Thank you. Thank you." He was starting to sound as crazy as the girl acted. He followed the brunette to a rack of juniors and held the items she selected.

"Try these."

"Thank you."

"Is she your girlfriend?"

He shook his head. She smiled, pushed her hair over her ear. "Is she on something?"

"No." He didn't think so but that would explain a lot. He didn't think there was a drug that could do this to a person and last for so long.

"So you're her pimp, right?" The clerk's tongue briefly passed over her lower lip.

"No. Of course not." The clerk didn't believe him and followed him to the dressing room. When they got close they heard the girl's moaning.

"Need any help?" The clerk quickly looked over her shoulder to the counter and back at him. She smiled.

"I don't think so. I, maybe I do. Thank you." He handed her the clothes and held the door open for her. The girl leaned against the wall, legs spread, facing them, eyes shut, hips slowly rotating. The clerk looked at him, paused and went in. He joined them.

With the clerk's help, the girl left the dressing room wearing hip huggers, a pink blouse that was too cute, a cheap pair of shoes and carried her underpants in a bag. Everything was more expensive than he expected. He used his credit card, looking over his shoulder at the girl who stood in the doorway to the concourse.

The brunette clerk followed him to the door. "I get off at seven."

"That's good. I mean, thank you. I think we'll be busy tonight. Thank you."

"Tomorrow at seven. The parking lot, blue zone, twenty-three, red Civic." She licked her lips, looked back at the counter, leaned closer to him. "Please."

The girl's moaning was louder. Her ohs were perceptible to passerby.

"Thank you. If I'm able, but I might not be."

"You know where I work." The clerk looked at the girl, raised her eyes to him. "Please."

Her eyes held his for a minute then she walked away. His eyes followed her as she went back to the counter and bent to say something to the blonde. He turned, took the girl's hand and led her to a restaurant. He let her carry her small bag; he carried a larger bag with his clothes she'd worn earlier.

Seated in the restaurant, Val said to the girl, "Point to what you want on the menu and I'll order it for you." He felt good thinking of that. The girl closed the menu and turned away from him, staring at a table full of men. Her fingers played with the buttons on her top, opening them, closing them.

Val ordered burgers and cokes for both of them, ate his and watched her ignore hers. The girl said, "Ummm," long and drawn out when the men left, turned to him. She pointed to her mouth.

"Your burger is getting cold." She pushed it away, turned from him.

"Look, Em. We need to talk. I'm going to offer two choices. Number one and number two. When I'm done explaining them, you hold up your fingers. One finger for choice number one. Two for choice number two. Understand? Look at me."

She faced him, nodded, put her hands on the table. Her blouse was half unbuttoned.

"Choice number one is that I take you somewhere where you'll be safe. My girlfriend knows people and I'm sure we can find a place for you. Where you'll be respected. You won't have to do things you don't want to do. You'll be with friends, people who like you. Who won't, well, you know. They'll respect you. We'll get rid of that silly collar," her fingers touched her collar, "maybe something can be done about the tattoos and you won't have to do things with people like Bert," or Bob or Frank, he thought, "and you can be happy." She was frowning at him.

"Choice number two is that we go to Rudy's tonight and I guess everything will be like it has been. I'll try to keep things safe but you know what it'll be like." She nodded and smiled. "You decide." Val thought number one was the obvious choice but he wasn't sure watching her reactions to his words that she thought the same.

The girl took a moment, raised two fingers and smiled.

Val wasn't happy with her choice. How could anyone . . . She was tapping his wrist. He looked at her. She pointed to herself, then at him. She raised three fingers. She did it again, pointed at herself, at him, smiled and raised three fingers. She nodded, watching him.

"No." Val shook his head. "No, I told you . . ."

She left the table, left the restaurant.

He grabbed the two bags, left a tip and paid the cashier. He looked right and left on the concourse, saw her take the escalator down. She was far ahead of him, moving with a steady pace, not running, she didn't need to run.

Val was clumsy, holding two bags, dodged people, trying to keep her in sight.

She turned to the right; when he reached the spot he saw it was a passageway leading to the restrooms. He wanted to follow her, hoped she went to the ladies, didn't want to see her in the men's. He backed up, found a wrought iron bench close by, next to a potted palm. He sat there and waited. After ten minutes he knew.

Val knew where she was by the look on men's faces as they came out of the passageway back onto the concourse. He expected to see a security team at any moment. He expected to see her hauled out, but maybe not. There must be a back way, a service passage. The girl would be naked, filthy; they wouldn't take her onto the concourse.

No security appeared. Val checked his watch. In an hour he'd look and see. If she was still there, he'd see if he could get her to go home with him. Which was crazy. He didn't want her back home with him but he couldn't just leave her. He wanted to be sure nothing happened to her. Not so much though so he'd go to the men's room now.

The brunette clerk came out of the passageway, saw him and came over. She sat next to him, didn't look at him.

Val was sweating and uncomfortable. He faced the passageway.

"How much will she make for you in there?"

Val shrugged. It was all too involved to explain.

"My name is Megan. I forgot to tell you. Tomorrow?" She stood. "I need to get back to work. Tomorrow?"

Val said, "Maybe," wishing he could say never. He didn't want to hurt her feelings. She passed by him and he didn't watch her walk away. He remembered the nice sway to her hips.

Go to next two chapters.

Part 1
Chapters 1 & 2 | Chapters 3 & 4 | Chapters 5 & 6 | Chapters 7 & 8
Chapters 9 & 10 | Chapters 11 & 12
Part 2
Chapters 13 & 14 | Chapters 15 & 16 | Chapters 17 & 18 | Chapters 19 & 20
Chapters 21 & 22 | Chapters 23 & 24

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