WinX Club Porn Story: Forgotten Chapter 1
Forgotten – A Jimmy Neutron fanfic by Nal’dralar
Disclaimer: The author of this story does not own any and all characters used in this story, they are the express property of Nickelodeon and DNA Productions.
Prologue
The girl landed face first on the pavement, a resounding thud rising from where her forehead had connected with the hard gravel. The sound of maniacal laughter rose shrilly from behind her.
A trio of males stood laughing sadistically at her motionless form, clearly revelling at the sight of her beaten and battered body.
Think the bitch has had enough? one asked, suppressing his urge to resume laughing.
No, but Ive had enough of beating her for one day. How bout we go grab some weed? They nodded and turned back around into the alley from which they had come, ignoring or simply not caring, about the possible consequences that might result from leaving a physically abused and openly bleeding thirteen-year-old girl alone on a footpath laying face down and unconscious.
Sometime after the girl stirred and forced herself up into a sitting position. One bony hand snaked up to touch her forehead, letting out a wince of pain as she did so to discover that it was grazed and openly bleeding. The girl sighed and forced herself to stand, the blood from the wound rolling down her face and down her tattered top. She paid barely any notice to this and very slowly limped into the alleyway where the three males had gone into sometime before.
The girl was slightly below the height of your average thirteen-year-old, her hair was dishevelled and her clothing was ripped and torn. Numerous bruises covered her body – most swollen – and she walked with a slight limp. She was extremely bony and dirt and grime covered her from head to toe; she had not washed in months and had consumed very little.
Five minutes later the girl arrived at a run-down building down the darkened alleyway which, to the locals around here was notorious as the housing for Retrovilles drug addicted and homeless citizens.
The girl walked right in as if it were her home.
The inside of the building was in no better condition than the outside. The building had once been a family home, long since abandoned by its former owners. Wallpaper peeled almost to ground level on the walls, up-turned and broken furniture lay in a mess all around and the floorboards creaked in all places no matter how quietly you tried to walk. Discarded packets which had once – to name a few – contained cocaine and heroin, long since consumed by its owners littered the floor of the building, some still containing traces of the substances which they had held.
The dwelling reeked of booze and the musty smell of smoked marijuana reached all areas of the building.
The girl walked with her face lowered, limping, as she went. She trailed up the stairs, paying no attention to the gazes fixed on her from the other inhabitants of the building.
When she reached the first floor she turned directly right and walked up to a door at the end of a hallway. There she stopped and took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knew would come. The girl lifted her hand, balling it into a fist and tapped lightly on the door. It slid open.
Back again? a voice she distinguished as male sounded from within the unlit room. The girl nodded.
I take it you want to stay here for the night again? the same voice said and once again the girl nodded.
Then the figure stood up and motioned for her to come in. She knew what was to come and without a word she stripped herself naked, exposing herself to the man.
The male shouts of intense pleasure and sexual gratification would shortly be heard all about the house and the screams of pain and distress of a young lady would be heard also. Not long after this the girl would leave, dressed once again in her tattered and ripped clothing and trail off into a room where she would spend the night weeping. Tomorrow she would go out into these drug and alcoholic infested suburbs again and she would scavenge for food anything that was edible and then at night she might fall asleep on a park bench or she might wander back here.
This was the life of Cynthia Aurora Vortex, now 13, homeless, alone and forgotten by all that had once cared for her. This was her life, her living hell.