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  • Chav Ch. 04 Pt. 02

Chav Ch. 04 Pt. 02

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As with all of these stories, this is inspired by, and dedicated to, Ronin.

CHAPTER TWO:

FOR FUCK'S SAKE!

Becky woke with a start. Her eyes adjusted to the bright light streamed in through a window that was not hers.

Everything was blue and cream, instead of the lush countless greens and browns of the woods she had just been dreaming about. And instead of the natural perfumes of those woods every thing was now stark and clean and smelled of disinfectant.

And the realisation that she had been dreaming of Emma again developed slowly in her befuddled head. She realised even as the new reality reasserted itself in the form of unfamiliar but recognisable surroundings of a private hospital room.

Even so, she could still hear Emma and Barry fucking, hear the squeaking of those shock absorbers, she could even feel her bed moving to the back and forth fast thrusting of their fucking pace.

Barry was loud. Grunting, guttural and animalistic. Overall it was a mix of Emma's soft, high, loud throaty moans and gritty, deep and aggressive snarls from Barry.

Then, once again, reality reasserted itself and replaced Emma and Barry, the former up North somewhere with Ray and the latter dead and buried, she reminded herself, she managed to turn her head. There was a dull thudding pain inside, behind her eyes but it was no worse than a Sunday afternoon hangover, her neck ached too. However, she managed to look down herself, over the complex frame of the hospital bed, with its starched white and blue bedding, down to the far end of it. There was the woman making the noise and there was Mad-Dog making her make it while adding his own guttural grunts.

The woman was actually a Police officer, going off her uniform.

Her body armour was opened at the front revealing her pressed white blouse beneath which had also been opened. Her plain bra had been tugged up onto her upper chest to reveal small, firm breasts with stiff rosy nipples surrounded by £2 coin size areolae.

She was tanned, though her bared torso showed bikini lines of creamy pale flesh that stood out against the deeper bronzed skin.

She was a brunette, her short, bobbed chestnut hair held away from her face by silver clips and was very pretty and young looking, mid twenties was Becky's best guess. She was probably newly graduated or whatever they did.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she had long lashes and a heavy dose of eye liner.

The nostrils of her straight, up turned nose were flared and her thin, though pink lips were slack as she let out a tumult of short gasping moans before chewing erotically on her pouting bottom lip.

Becky noticed between the bars at the foot of her bed that the officer's uniform trousers were loosened but cinched halfway down her thighs, which were visible through the bars and as lushly tanned as the rest of her.

Plain white knickers were cinched just above her trousers. Her weighty utility belt was pulling her trousers further down her thighs by the second, it was only that her legs were spread apart that stopped them hitting the floor with a thud.

Behind her, his bulk and height framing her much more petite body, in an immaculate silver- business suit, was Kasey Mad-Dog Parker.

He had one hand cupping one of her small breasts, pulling at the stiff nipple between finger and thumb, while the other gripped her throat from behind. He was growling into her sucked-on ear, while he humped away at her hard and fast from behind, pounding at what had to be a sweet and perky little bottom, his cock jutting from his unzipped fly.

Not that Becky could see his cock, but she could see his trousers were still on and belted snugly around his waist.

Becky lay there trying to rest and straighten out her head but they were making too much noise. She knew from the level and tone of their noise that they were nearly done. Not that Parker would be interested in the girl-cop getting off. As long as he did.

"Take it cop-whore!" He growled suddenly, then emitted a series of heavy groans and wheezing noises as he started to empty his fat balls deep inside his young enemy's tight clutching pussy.

"Take my bastard, crack-dealing scum right up your tight little cop twat you fucking slut-cunt!" He snarled at her in time to his hard bucking hips.

Becky saw the girl-cop's cheeks flushing beetroot at his loud tirade of offence but she took it like she took his hot spunk, without complaint and in silence, just like a victim. Like she didn't have a choice.

Becky wondered what he had on her, or maybe she liked a bit of rough. Maybe it turned her on.

They parted finally and started to pull their clothes back into order. The officer, in silence, unable or unwilling to look Mad-Dog in the eye, checked herself over and then headed for the door. Parker stopped her.

"Be round at mine tonight at seven. Bring your handcuffs, your truncheon thing. Oh, and plenty a' lube. Clarence's taking you up the arse tonight."

The cop-girl turned positively green, Becky would have put money on her throwing up then and there, but she didn't.

"And after he's done you can suck him off."

She heaved a little and whimpered finally stammered a complaint.

"But... But, you said I..."

"I don't give a fuck what you think I said." Mad-Dog growled. "I'm saying you're getting it up the bum. Hard. Tonight. Got it?!"

She started to cry, did a little twitchy dance, undecided whether or not to run for the door or stay put. Finally, she gave a little sniffling nod through her streaming tears and then ran.

Mad-Dog watched her go with a laugh and a semi conscious squeeze of his cock through his suit pants. Then he turned to look at Becky, apparently not surprised or concerned that she was awake and had been a witness to the exchange between him and the pretty little girl-cop.

"Her lil' sister owes me big time but she got sectioned into some mental ward or some'at. So now she's havin' t'pay the debt for her. Good for me. Shite for her." He explained with a rancid, malicious grin.

"I love fuckin' with self righteous cunts like her!" He added, laughing as he pulled a chair up to Becky's bedside.

Becky just looked at him. Numb, confused, tired.

"Fucking coppers. Fuckin' enemy ain't they." He muttered, seemingly to himself.

Becky said nothing. She was parched, and sore and tired and her head was swimming. She idly wondered why her mum wasn't here too.

"The bastards'll wanna interview you. You tell 'em shit all, got it?! You don't remember anything." The hint of warning in his voice was as obvious as it was unnecessary.

"Isn't too far off." Becky muttered, before asking the question that was burning her. "Where's mum?"

"She didn't make it. Cunts were gunning fer me obviously, tried to burn me alive in your place. But I'll see to 'em in good fuckin' time. I'll fuck 'em up good 'n proper."

Becky was numbed and shocked at the same time. Though she was aware enough to recognise Mad-Dog's lack of compassion, tact or concern, as well as his obvious self importance. Her mum had died because of him, because some drug rivals (she assumed) had tried to kill him at her house and the best he could come up with was 'she didn't make it'?! At the same time she had enough understanding of Mad-Dog to keep her outrage to herself. He just carried on his self centred discourse.

"You're coming back with me when they let you out. All your stuff's gone. Yer house got burned to a fuckin' cinder."

"You're only alive 'cause a'me, girl. I saved your ass. Remember that. You owe me big time now."

There was a long heavy silence. Parker looking absently around the small immaculate room, while Becky lay there not knowing what too feel or say or how she was supposed to act. She was soon fighting back tears.

"Sorry 'bout Sandy. She was a great lil' strawberry she was. Great fuck." He muttered, eventually.

Again, it felt like he was talking to himself more than to Becky. She had a very hard time biting down her temper.

Eventually, tears and temper under control, she managed a long weak sigh.

"Christ I need a cig." She muttered.

"Here." Mad-Dog said, fishing a packet and a lighter from his inside pocket.

He lit it for her and passed it across. Becky watched him through the smoke haze.

His eyes were on her, examining the way the hospital gown and single sheet played across the pert curves of her full, braless breasts.

Then they were interrupted by the appearance of a Doctor. He looked around, sniffed a bit and then focused on the cigarette in Becky's hand.

"Miss, there's a no smoking policy in the hospital. I'm going to have to ask you to put that out, I'm afraid."

"If she wants to smoke she's gonna smoke." Mad-Dog barked.

"It's against hospital policy, and the law..."

"Do I look like I give a fuck?! Just check what you have to check and then get the fuck outta my sight, you're starting to piss me off!"

The Doctor frowned, thought for a moment, had obvious second thoughts and then silently gave Becky a quick check before having a hurried flick through her notes.

Becky had put the cigarette out on the bedside table while he checked her pulse, and blood pressure.

Parker left a couple of minutes after the Doctor and Becky soon fell back to an aching, exhausted sleep.

The next thing Becky knew was being woken up by a nurse leading two police officers to her bedside.

It was a short interview, uncomfortable but not all that difficult.

The only thing she took from it was confirmation that the house, all her belongings and her mother were gone forever.

They said her mother had died of smoke inhalation and that the cocaine in her system would have acted like a sedative so she probably wouldn't have suffered.

The only thing the interviewing officers got from Becky in return were tears.

<><><>

The funeral took place two days after Becky's release from the hospital. She was left alone during those first two days. Shown her room in Mad-Dog Parker's large, detached, security-gated house. There were already new clothes and a new phone waiting for her in her room.

There was even a knee length black skirt, jacket and charcoal blouse with black lace underwear set out for the funeral in the morning.

Becky threw herself down onto her bed, picked up her new phone and started to input the few numbers she knew off by heart.

She was interrupted by a knock on the door and she sat in silence for a moment staring at the polished bronze door handle, wondering if this was Mad-Dog visiting her for a fuck already.

It turned out to be a young pretty blonde girl about Becky's age, maybe a year or two younger.

Becky remembered hearing something about Mad-Dog Parker spending a load of cash on a really over the top party for his daughter's eighteenth birthday. A weird mixture of booze, strippers, a DJ and a giant inflatable slide and bouncy castle. This must be her.

"Hiya. I'm Chloe, Kasey Parker's my dad." She announced, full of vivacity.

She really was very pretty. That youthful Nordic blonde, sweet and innocent look. Immaculate, straight, blonde hair, huge, brilliant, crystal-blue eyes, tiny little childlike nose, full, whorish lips all contained in a pretty porcelain round face with a dainty pointed chin. She reminded Becky of Ava Sambora.

Her body was a perfect example of youthful, toned athleticism, essentially curve-less, but taut and lean with almost defined muscle tone under the silky, smooth flesh. Much of it was on display as she was wearing pyjamas, or at least a baby pink vest top with a Pokemon on the front and a silky pair of loose shorts.

Becky could see erect nipples poking firmly against the cotton of her vest, and a definite camel toe under the high drawn cleft of her shorts.

"Becky Taylor." Becky answered with a nod but no smile. She hadn't felt like smiling since the hospital. No. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time she had smiled. Rochelle's maybe? And that had been forced too.

"So, you're dad's new dick-hole then?"

"What?!"

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not having a go it's just how dad thinks, we're all commodities to him. I'm no different to you. He doesn't fuck me himself but he uses me to 'sweeten deals' for him. He's got at least six kids and he doesn't give a shit about any of us. 'Specially the females, we're just holes to put dicks in as far as he's concerned. I want you to realise that. Don't for one second think that you're special."

"Jesus! Don't fucking worry about that!"

"I'm sorry, that probably came out wrong. It's great to have someone my own age to talk to. All I see are drug dealers tryin' to fuck me and a few of my dad's dick-holes who think they're better than me, or think I'm in the way. D'you like your clothes. I bought them all. Picked them out myself. Is the funeral stuff okay? I've never been to a funeral before. I wasn't sure what was right."

Becky's head was swimming. This girl just wouldn't shut up!

"Yeah, it's fine, thanks." She said once she could get a word in.

"So who died? My dad wouldn't say."

"My mum. Some enemy's of your dad burned my house down. 'Cause your dad was there."

"Jesus! I'm sorry mate. My dad's a fucking prick! I mean I love him an' all. And I'd never say it to his face, he'd fucking paste me! But he's such a fucking prick some times! Well, most of the time really."

She stayed for another half hour. Talking almost none stop about... Nothing really. Idle gossip about people Becky didn't know yet.

Finally after Becky made out three huge yawns and then, obstinately, started getting undressed in front of the younger girl, Chloe finally got the hint, said good night to Becky and left her alone.

<><><>

Sandra Taylor's funeral was a small and quick affair. There were only six other mourners besides Becky.

Jeni and her dad turned up of course. And Becky's Gran, even though the Taylor sisters hardly had any contact with her.

Accompanying Granny Taylor was Sandra's half sister, Auntie Shirley. Like their Gran, Shirley was more or less a stranger. Becky thought she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she'd seen those two... If two of her fingers had been cut off and she wasn't allowed to include her thumb.

Slightly less of a stranger was Julie, one of Sandra's neighbours and one of the few estate people who was actually friendly and caring.

Becky thought it was partly because they had been similar ages and Julie had been lonely since her elder son had been killed in Iraq or Afghanistan or somewhere. And her younger son had been taken into care.

Becky had also once caught them in a drug fuelled lesbian sixty-nine, going at it like possessed nuns or something. And she was pretty certain (by the noise that had often been been coming from the open living room window of Julie's place, that the two women had enjoyed a few threesomes and foursomes with lads they'd picked up on occasional Friday and Saturday nights.

Becky had been driven to the crematorium by one of Mad-Dog's drivers/hard-men and he was standing out by the car, a huge, shiny, black Chrysler 300, smoking and eyeing up Jeni from a distance.

Becky had also been accompanied by Chloe and it hadn't been as bad as Becky had feared. The none-stop mouth from the previous night seemed to have been out of nervousness and the pretty blonde girl was proving to be much more sedate and favourable company, sticking close to Becky and trying to be supportive and thoughtful without being in her face.

The fact that her mother, who had died in a house fire was now being laid to rest by way of being burned to ashes in a crematorium was not lost on Becky. But the ceremony was short and simple. The MC (or whatever they call themselves) said a few lame and untrue things about "how Sandra had always been dedicated to her family and friends, had led a difficult life but always made the best of what little she had, and that she will be missed by those who loved her".

About the only part that was true was the last bit, Becky thought to herself sullenly.

She was well aware too that she hadn't shed a tear of grief for her mother. Not a real tear. The tears for the Police questioners had been a mixture of her own shock and a part of her performance.

She sat in the left hand pew alongside Chloe and her Gran, while Jeni and her dad and Aunt Shirley took up the row on the right side of the central isle.

Afterwards, people milled around the garden-of-remembrance, while they awaited the delivery of Sandra's ashes.

Becky stood by herself, smoking. There were a lot of cigarettes and Becky, though liking the calming buzz of the nicotine, found herself disturbed by the realisation that seemingly most of her family were chain smokers.

Only Jeni and her dad weren't partaking. They were standing alone off to one side, Jeni in tears, her dad hugging her and trying to console her. Becky felt exquisitely aware of her own lack of emotional support.

Chloe came over and gave her a quick hug but she was still saying very little. Becky's Gran and Aunt were standing together smoking and watching everyone else, muttering to each other with sour faces.

Eventually Jeni came over and hugged her big sister.

"I can't believe she's gone."

"Me neither. I had a feeling it wasn't gonna end well for her, not with her track record... But this...?"

Becky let out a long sigh, instead of letting the sentence complete itself.

"Jen... Look I know we've had problems in the past, and I know I proper fucked things up with your dad, and my mum, and me of course, but d'you think there's any chance of me coming to stay with you two?"

Jeni pouted but didn't even think about her answer.

"Sorry sis, but after what you did, dad really can't stand you. He doesn't bad mouth you or anything but he wouldn't even entertain the idea of you stepping foot in his house. He doesn't mind me spending time with you but he wouldn't even let you stop by to visit. I'm sorry."

Becky felt hurt and slightly aggrieved but she just sighed and her shoulders slumped. Another possibility down the pan.

"Can't blame him I suppose. The way I treated him... No way you can talk him around...?"

"Sorry. He's proper stubborn sometimes. You hurt him bad and he's one for holding grudges. I already tried when I heard mum's place was gutted. He wasn't budging for anything."

"Where are you staying anyway?"

"Mad-Dog, fucking Parker's." Becky growled sullenly her shoulders stooping even further. "Mum's boyfriend's putting me up."

"That rich older guy who liked giving it to mum up the arse?" Jeni said with a smirk.

Saying it that way was like thinking of their mum as she had lived, without the shadow of her death lingering over the memory. But it only lasted for a moment and the sisters smiles faded back into sadness once again.

"Trouble is, Mad-Dog Parker's a fucking-psycho-drug-dealer-gangster-twat though. I think he's keeping me 'round to replace mum. It'll be me taking it up the arse before the week's out. And I've no way out. You're at your dad's, Rochelle'll be up in Scotland by now. Donna's gone... Emma... I don't know what I can do."

"Well.." Jeni murmured, her face revealing her lack of conviction. "...I'll talk to dad again, but I don't think there's much chance..."

"Thanks sis but I won't hold out much hope."

"What about the council? Don't they have a duty to re-house you?"

"Parker's taken it on himself to play the good step dad or whatever, gave them his address as where I'd be staying from now on. I'm not even on their books now. Besides you know what they're like. It'd take months. Maybe if I got myself knocked up...?"

The look of shock and disapproval on Jeni's face was a picture that at one time would have had Becky raging and screaming at her, but now it cause little more than feelings of embarrassment in the elder sister.

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