A Sex Slavee To Alien Masters

Families always have problems, I know that. Mine just seemed to have more than most. My uncles had all spent time locked up and now they couldn’t get work. My mother was a drunk and my dad had never been in the picture. To say we were dysfunctional was an understatement.

Somehow mom had managed to buy the house we were in. It was small, just a few bedrooms and a kitchen/ living area. It was full of people, though.

We became the crash pad for anyone in the family with nowhere to stay, which was pretty much everybody. They blamed the bad economy. I blamed the stuff they kept snorting up their noses. Fear of another beating kept me from ever saying anything Like that.

I’d had my own bedroom until my Last uncle moved in. Uncle Eddy told mom he “needed” to have a comfortable bed. He was creepy enough he probably wouldn’t have cared if I stayed. My mother told me I could sleep on the couch, but she spent most nights there passed out drunk.

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

Occasionally I found myself sleeping in a chair on the front porch.

shock when I managed to graduate

I finally turned eighteen I’d got out of there as fast

took a job cleaning rooms several hours down the interstate in a seedy motel. My boyfriend drove me and my meager belongings to the motel.

motel was not exactly nice, but

stay there. I had my own bed

and span. Soon I learned to

work at the motel was hard and thankless. Mr. Pensky refused to buy me even simple things, like gloves. My hands were red and raw from the chemicals I used. After a couple months the

to grope me daily, but I was fast. I’d Learned years ago how to avoid my uncle’s unwanted

For once, I could lock my room, so nobody stole what I bought. I rarely had fresh fruit or

There was a place there the to’ ts ‘tf you climbed the steep slope down, you had your

when I managed

out of there as fast