Biting Roo

'What the hell is that?' Then it came back to her, and Roo cursed herself.

'I can't go home like this. He'll kill me. Goodnight Roo!'

She was right. He would kill her.

Roo was in Ladies Wear of , opting for a new bra. Trying it on for size and comfort, that was where she saw it. The cherry hicky on the boob. The bitten tit.

'Christ ! Why had Bobby been so insistent? I tried to get away from him all night and he wouldn't let me go.'

Her dress snapped and he wouldn't release her. Her shoes broke, and he made her dance on broken glass until Security said they couldn't allow such a thing, S & M being unlawful the last they time checked, much to their own obvious displeasure, clearly getting a kick out of this strapless, hapless, cut-foot girl.

Roo knows she's being unfair. Bobby hadn't asked her to bang on about no-good Nick, Bobby hadn't told her to say: 'We should have done this ages ago.'

'So I got carried away. So what! Who doesn't? Nick had it coming. Like I know where he was last night or the past six Fridays for that matter. Rugging it with his rugger pals. Like he cares one jot. But he can't see it! He'll bloody kill me!'

Roo took a good sober look. This was no rash. Neither a spot nor a boil. And if she plastered it up, even Nick would catch on.

'Why did Bobby have to get so rough? Not fair again. Both drunk, both carried away, me wanting to punish Nick and get laid properly for the first time in months, having no issue with a little savagery along the way. And Bobby simply wanting to get laid. And why not? At least it's passion and a man staying awake on me, and not just a big dumb lug that needs twelve pints of lager swilling around his thick head before he can come try be a man on top of me, pump me some while, breathe that concoction of booze, tabs and salted peanuts up my nostrils while his piss-soaked, shit-caked hands grapple me a bit.'

Not so much an impassioned grope but more for his own support in case he collapses out of bed to split his skull open against the wall again. When he's done, if he gets done, the lug sleeps. If feeling considerate he'll remember to roll over to his side and she can get on with her night, clean him out of her, maybe touch herself a little, like only she knows how, and think of someone else. Anyone. Maybe Bobby. That should do it.

'Just take me away, get out of this. Nothing was ever supposed to be like this.'

So Bobby did take her away, if only for a few hours, and however whacked out the two of them were she hadn't felt so much kindness from a man since her father was around.

'So screw the bite and screw the lug!' She'd like to have the marking cemented into her. It was her chance to exit. Roo turned her head to the side and observed her new self with clarity and pride. No going back from this.

Roo had expected much worse. Nick wasn't drunk, and amazingly, he was feeling amorous. Roo let him get there all on his own. He was too stunned to muster more than a few token knocks. Nick hadn't counted on such action.

To go out and get banged was more than he'd reckoned for. She'd always been so passive.

Roo rose from the bed and went to the bathroom to scan the damage. Not too bad. Cut lip and shiner but not a single body blow. Roo returned to gather some things. Nick was squatting on the floor, his oversized head in his oversized hands. Roo thought she could hear him say: 'What have I done?' in repetition, but she paid him scant attention. She picked up her new bra (and how very lovely it was too), leaving within a few minutes, heading out to her life.