The year is 1974. The womb is laden with various layers of man Spackle and intravenous speed abuse residue. The effects of poor diet, incoming motherhood regret and misery hang like mucous stalactites from the block party labia that part to spat forth a future living nightmare.
Living on rice and beans amidst the trash laden vista of San Diego's east county provided plenty of time for girl Michael to carefully plot her future. Surrounded by methamphetamine, convicts and a desire to fuck, her labia began to swell and part....the time had come.
Most junior high kids want to roller skate, cruise the mall or sniff glue. Not Michael. She was different than the other kids in the trailer park. She wanted vertigo eyes, shaved eyebrows, hard cock and lollipops; but at 13 she needed help.
The heavy stench of unwashed pussy fucking that hung like thick cologne in her single wide trailer, courtesy of her amped up booze laden mom provided inspiration, but no relief. Snorting lines and letting the retarded, differently abled neighbor boy fingerbang her holes whilst slobbering on her titties had become boring to Michael.
She wanted syringes. She wanted to get high and attempt to fill the void she had with dicks, spit, cum, tongues, broomhandles, soda bottles....whatever.
The pharmacist saw her coming a mile away. He asked for I D, knowing she had none. As despair set in, he offered a solution. It was easy. Go behind the dumpster in the alley out back, get rid of the lollipop and get your fucking knees dirty bitch, he said. A pharmacist throat fuck with face blast is the key to needle heaven, he explained.
As if magically transformed into a bolt of lightning, she found herself behind the dumpster, two fingers in her peach fuzzed pussy and mouth wide open hearing his zipper unzip. The rigs were on there way.
......to be continued