- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- I'm an afternoon and 1am poster lmao
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Female
- Transgender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- - Horror
- Paranormal
- Supernatural
- Biblical
- Sci Fi
- World War I II
- Roman / Greek
- 80s / 90s
- Romance
- Occult
It was 12:23AM and Chase was desperate. He needed some smokes and was all out of money. His job wasn't going to pay him until the end of next week and he couldn't survive that long. They paid him so little anyway. It was partially Chase's fault, the money mostly went to weed than anything else. It was getting to the point now where his landlord was threatening to kick him out. Chase was beginning to accept the fact he might become a homeless druggie, and probably would die on the streets. It really upset Chase, but he was nothing else to the world. Depressing as it was, Chase believed that very much.
Chase was sitting in a park, shivering a little under his flannel shirt which hung loosely off his slim frame. The wind breezed through the rips in his jeans too. His lips were dry and his hands were freezing as he sat in the dark, hoping somebody was going to come along and ask him for a 'favour.' It was always this bench where men came for an easy sexual trade for cash. It made him feel like trash and no matter how many times he did it, Chase felt bad after. But it was worth the money, surely.
With that thought, a burly man strided up to Chase and cleared his throat, "Fifty for 15 minutes right?" The man asked. Chase shamefully nodded his head. You'd think after two years doing this he'd stop feeling ashamed. But he never did. Chase stood up and sighed, taking the notes that were given to him and sliding them into his jean pocket. The man lead him even further into the park, getting behind a dumpster. Chase cringed, this was so low. "Pants off then.." The man said. Chase widened his eyes, "Uh- No...Sorry, I don't do that." Chase went to get onto his knees, the usual position, but the man grabbed him. He began attempting to pull at his jeans. Chase suddenly felt terrified, there was no way a man was doing that to him.
"HELP!" Chase screamed, panicking as the man thrust him up against the dumpster, trying to put his hand over Chase's mouth. It felt useless shouting, but Chase did. Nobody would be around, but there was always a chance.
Chase was sitting in a park, shivering a little under his flannel shirt which hung loosely off his slim frame. The wind breezed through the rips in his jeans too. His lips were dry and his hands were freezing as he sat in the dark, hoping somebody was going to come along and ask him for a 'favour.' It was always this bench where men came for an easy sexual trade for cash. It made him feel like trash and no matter how many times he did it, Chase felt bad after. But it was worth the money, surely.
With that thought, a burly man strided up to Chase and cleared his throat, "Fifty for 15 minutes right?" The man asked. Chase shamefully nodded his head. You'd think after two years doing this he'd stop feeling ashamed. But he never did. Chase stood up and sighed, taking the notes that were given to him and sliding them into his jean pocket. The man lead him even further into the park, getting behind a dumpster. Chase cringed, this was so low. "Pants off then.." The man said. Chase widened his eyes, "Uh- No...Sorry, I don't do that." Chase went to get onto his knees, the usual position, but the man grabbed him. He began attempting to pull at his jeans. Chase suddenly felt terrified, there was no way a man was doing that to him.
"HELP!" Chase screamed, panicking as the man thrust him up against the dumpster, trying to put his hand over Chase's mouth. It felt useless shouting, but Chase did. Nobody would be around, but there was always a chance.
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