Sunday School
inuxxian@gmail.com
Hayley goes to church.


When my mom took me to get my ears pierced I was like 13. It was a
now-you're-a-teenager thing. Back then I wanted to get EVERYTHING pierced,
which was kind of stupid, but a girl's gotta have her punk phase. Anyway I was
just zoning out staring at the pierce gun while the wage-slave got ready and I
suddenly thought of how awesome it would be if you used the gun to just pop
somebody's eye. Like a little grape. Hold them down on that shitty fake-brick
mall floor and POP POP. And so obviously I started giggling. I mean, I'm
giggling now. Anyway, my mom asked me what was so funny, and I told her. That
was right before they sent me to the doctor for the first time.

My parents and I don't get along. Part of that is just general
difference-of-opinion sort of stuff, like, they think I should have rules and
restrictions and bedtimes and stuff and I think I should do whatever the fuck
I want all the time cuz I'm rad, but there's something else too. I think I
make them sad and freaked out. Like, they're kinda Christian, and their
beautiful angelic Virgin-Mary daughter, who by the way is their only kid
because they wanted to concentrate on me isn't that sweet, is kind of a
problem child. Like as in "Hayley painted a picture in art class of you
getting dismembered" problem child. Or "Hayley took Matt behind the classroom
and no one knows what she did to him but he hasn't stopped crying for three
hours". Or "Hayley had to leave Bobby's 12th birthday party because she told
him she'd show him his present if he got on his knees in front of her, and
then she pelvic-thrust him five times into a tree." Y'know. I'm a sparkplug.

Anyway the effect of having me as a daughter for
LOL-you-think-I'm-telling-you-how-old-I-am years is that you eventually just
give up, and just pray really hard for me every night before you go to bed.
And then have some vodka when you wake up. They're both alkies now, and my mom
has her priest over all the time (I dunno if they're trying to perform some
kind of exorcism or if he's just fucking her) and my dad at this point is
basically just this fat human wallet that I stab a straw into every now and
then and slurp some money out of. Which means he's covered all over with
little welts, just like his liver. Liam and I considered buying some heroin
and leaving it where my dad could find it to see if we could turn him into a
smack addict for Jesus, but then Liam fixed his TV so we weren't so desperate
for entertainment.

I made him pump me full of money tonight before I went out to meet Liam, who
was with some guy I'd never seen before and who I guess works at Liam's shitty
job. The guy fucked me with his eyes the second I walked up so I flayed him
with my eyes and threw his dripping fucking body onto a salt flat with my
eyes, but I think he might have been retarded because he asked me with this
dumbass leer if I went to high school and what my high school was like. And I
said it was a fucking slut high school where we were all hot sluts nailing
each other in a giant fucking hot high school slut orgy, and that he should
visit. Which made Liam laugh (always awesome, the boy is a dreamboat when he
laughs) and which more importantly made his friend shut up.

We get into Liam's car and drive around for a while and I pack a bong in the
back seat and take a couple major Hayley-rips and let it soak in like a warm
bath while I achieve fucking liftoff. I hand it to the friend, who I think is
getting turned on by watching me rip, which I totally get but which is still
hilariously pathetic. And things get even more hilariously pathetic when he
hits it himself with his eyes like looking at me all, like, smouldering or
whatever, and he fucking CHOKES OUT and a jet of nasty fucking bongwater goes
all over Liam's car. Which because I'm now halfway to blazed makes me laugh so
fucking hard I think it's gonna kill me. Like there are waves and WAVES of
fucking stoner giggling coming my way.

And Liam isn't helping, because he's acting all pissed off. He doesn't give a
shit about those seats really, but I guess the friend--or I guess "co-worker"
is really what he is--doesn't know that, because Liam's acting like this is a
HUGE fucking problem and he's REALLY fucking pissed off and he's gonna pull
the fucking car over RIGHT NOW and beat the shit out of the guy, and the guy
is obviously completely freaked out and terrified and oh God his face I wish I
could even describe it to you. You'd laugh too. Unless you have human decency
or something, in which case here is my clit, pucker up.

So it's like the instant the choke-out happened the whole night took this turn
from being a boring hangout night to being a Hayley and Liam get baked and get
their antisocial jollies night, which makes whatever-this-guy's-name-is
Potential Victim #12 and which totally kicks ass, and which I, like,
inaugurate by putting one hand on the side of the dude's head while he's still
like apologizing and trying to calm Liam down, and slowly pushing him out the
window--he tries to push back but turns out they have really good gym class in
hot slut high school--and then raising the window so it grinds against his
cheek and traps him there with like his squished face poking out of the car
and catching the bugs and yelling something.

"What's he saying, Hayley?" Liam says from the front seat.

"I think he's mad I'm on his side, Dad," I say, which cracks Liam up. I lie
back in the seat and practically fucking purr I am so happy. "Turn left here.
Church."

"Definitely."

We're near my parents' church, like a couple blocks away, and we pull into the
parking lot because when I was like seven my parents still made me go to
Sunday school and I stole the spare key to the church basement and I don't
think they even fucking noticed, because the key still works. Liam and I get
high down there a lot. We usually pour the bong into the holy water after.
We're very mature.

So I get out of the car and because it is a perfect warm SoCal night I take
off the jacket I was wearing, which was Liam's anyway, and give my shoulders
some air. Taking off a jacket when you're really happy is halfway to dancing,
and since I'm stoned I get all the way there, dancing in the church parking
lot, doing little fake oopsie-slips with my spaghetti straps, really fucking
enjoying myself. Liam is yanking Potential Victim #12 out of the window and
putting him in a headlock.

"Stop acting like a fucking kid," he says.

This actually kinda kills my buzz and I glare at him. "I AM a fucking kid,
PERVERT," I say. "Rape me." Which makes him laugh again. I unlock the door and
let him go first so I can look at his ass while he goes down the stairs. I'm
getting this tingle in my whole body and I realize I'm doing this thing where
I'm flexing every muscle I think I'm gonna use tonight and enjoying the
teaser. I have really excellent cleavage in this top, by the way. Go right
ahead and picture that; God's not watching.

He's probably watching us though, because Liam just threw 12's body into a
shelf and there's papers and boxes and little pictures of Jesus falling all
over him. And I'm walking across the room to him with my hands in my jeans
pockets while Liam turns on the light, and I'm giving him a big smile and
saying the first thing that comes into my stoned happy brain, which for some
reason is "Hi, buster! Are you in my homeroom?"

At which point he starts full-on slasher-movie screaming, and I start full-on
slasher-movie having a fucking blast. I drag him up off the floor and
bitch-slap him hard enough to knock a tooth out, and I headbutt him just like
I did Eric and drop him the instant I do, and I kick him in the balls when
he's on the floor and he convulses and all the muscles I was flexing are like
hell-O Hayley you SEXY THING. I hear the bong bubbling behind me because Liam
is taking a rip, and that boy can take some epic awesome bong rips and I kinda
want to be part of the history he's making back there. So I kick the
Twelvester in the nuts again and go over to Liam and kiss him and the smoke
curls out of his mouth and down my throat and he puts his hands on my ass and
squeezes and every single nerve in my body is on red-alert
fuck-this-gorgeous-stud-immediately mode, and it's actually HARD to pull
myself away and blow smoke all over 12's screwed-up face and get back to
business. I mean, kinda hard.

I sit on Twelvie's chest and grab his weak little chicken arms and do the
why-are-you-hitting-yourself thing, which is way funnier high, and giggle at
him and hock a big snotty perfect loogie onto his nose, which is actually an
AMAZING FUCKING ACHIEVEMENT high what with the cottonmouth and which someone
should probably give me a fucking trophy for. He starts crying here--I'd give
his crying a 4.3, which isn't so good, but the way the rest of this night's
going it doesn't matter--and I take one hand and palm his face and lift his
head an inch or two above the concrete floor and then slam it down, kinda
hard, not hard enough to do anything serious, yet. He looks terrified so I
lick my lips and make this slurping sound and say "CONCUSSION TIME!" which
does not make any fucking sense at all but I have a good delivery so it ups
his crying to like a 4.7.

Liam is coming up in front of me and unbuttoning his jeans while I keep
hitting 12's head on the same lump, and his briefs look like they're going to
rip open because he's an idiot boy and still wears tighty-whiteys even though
his dick's way too big for them. And now I have this total THING for
tighty-whiteys that I never used to have and it's his fucking fault, which
makes me mad enough to slam 12's head down harder than I'd meant to and
there's a weird cracking sound. That's gotta hurt.

I'm going to give Liam's dick a tongue-bath but a few seconds after the
cracking sound 12 starts, like, GURGLING, like he's trying to talk but
something's gone wrong inside his head, like maybe a teenage girl has cracked
it open on the floor. And Liam laughs at me and says "Jesus, anger problems,"
which because I DO have anger problems changes my plans and I do this like
little barracuda-lunge at his dick and snap my teeth shut just in front of it,
and he jumps back and yells "Fuck!" and I get up from 12's head and leave him
to keep up his drainpipe noise and jump Liam and force him against the wall
and French him like a boy while his pants drop down and I wrap my legs around
those fucking tighty-whiteys. Then we kind of fall down to the floor, right
next to 12, me on top of Liam with my jeans kicked off somewhere into the
basement and impaling myself on that grade-A fuck-yeah 20-year-old cock, which
like--I hate to say this because I think you're kinda cool and dig telling you
these stories, but it's way bigger than yours. Like big enough to asphyxiate
you if he decided to shove it down your throat, which, depending on how high I
was, I might think was really funny. I'm just warning you, if we're gonna keep
internet-hanging.

Anyway but now two perfect things happen. The first perfect thing is that
while I'm riding Liam's dick and grinning like a stoned cat and stretching my
arms up in the air and looking down at my flawless fucking idol of a stomach,
I notice that the bong we've been ripping from is still within reach, and so
is 12, whose gurgling is more like sputtering now and who I suspect might need
a few sick days and also a live-in nurse. So like, what would you do? I reach
over and pick up the bong and do one last rip from it even though it's mostly
cashed, and then I hold it out over 12's sputtering face while Liam fucks me
and I pour the filthy water down P.V. #12's throat and I think at least half
of it goes into his lungs. And I get back to cowgirling my big psychotic
boyfriend, who is listening to the sounds 12's making now and pants out,
"Hayley, I think he might die."

"Don't jinx it," I say.

And I fucking leave the real world behind and go bye-bye to pure fucking
blissville. Which is when the second perfect thing happens. I swear to fucking
God, the door opens, the stairway light goes on, and there is MY FUCKING MOM.
Standing behind her fucking priest, holding a bottle of wine, coming down here
to get drunk on something different for a change and have dirty-Christian sex
with Father Whogivesafuck, or maybe she's just here to cry on his shoulder
about her sad life. Which she's probably really gonna need now because I might
as well be spotlit, down here in the basement, my pants off, my green top
half-rolled up, her problem child, impaled on some dumbass dropout's dick and
fucking to the sound of a guy with a concussion choking on bongwater. It's a
lot to take in. Plus a few seconds after she sees me--I really cannot help
this--Liam blasts his spunk into me and I have probably one of the five best
orgasms of my life. I think her brain catches fire. So does mine, honestly.

"HAYLEY?" she wails from the top of the stairs.

Liam twists his head to look at her and I clamber down from my rocketship
orgasm and arch my back and purr and give her a look that is probably the
exact opposite of a loving daughter-to-mom look.

"God, Mom," I say. "OCCUPIED."

She runs. He runs, too; he probably thinks he's having a nightmare, or a
vision of Hell. They can write a whole new chapter of Revelations about me.
They slam the door and run while Liam laughs so fucking hard I think he's
going to cum again. So I basically own my mom now. I mean, even more than I
did. Which means I'm gonna be wake-and-baking a lot more. Also, Potential
Victim #12 finally stops making any kind of noise at all, which I guess makes
him Victim #12 and which I'm pretty sure is going on my Permanent Record.
Oops. Really gotta get that under control. Teen Orgy High School's fucking
strict.