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The Life of Linc 
FATTIUSPATTIUS 
FEB 24TH, 2017 
5,873 
0 
NEVER 
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“Hello, little thing.” The woman said as she beckoned him closer. 
 
In a perfect world, Lincoln thinks that this kind of stuff wouldn't happen to him. In a perfect world, he wouldn't be in the position he seemed to find himself in more often than not nowadays. 
 
His eyes are unfocused as he finds a seat on the strange woman's lap. Her hands immediately roam his body, touching and groping places his mom always said to keep for the woman he loved. 
 
At first, he was surprised. He hadn't thought there were so many women in the world who desired this sort of thing. A few girls around the neighborhood, yes; they were especially grabby. But, it was to be expected, they were as unskilled as he was then. Too excited for their own good. 
 
But the sheer number of requests he'd been getting after the first 2 months really startled him, he kept thinking “What if this one's a trap?”, CPS lurking behind every call, every text, every email. He'd learned the lingo for what his customers wanted quickly, and adapted so as to never be caught. 
 
---------------------------- 
In the Loud house, birthdays landed dangerously close to each other, and every child always wanted something substantial. Lola and Lana’s joint 7th birthday was no different: the former wanting a myriad of dresses and accessories, the latter asking for enough power tools to build a small house. 
 
Lincoln, loving his family as he did, picks up some more work in an attempt to provide them with everything they wanted this year. Small odd jobs, rake some leaves here, mow a lawn there. Nothing big, and unfortunately, nothing substantial. He knew that if he was going to finance this party, he’d have to pick up the pace. And his pace was duly noted by wandering eyes. 
 
His first “customer”, he remembers, was a girl named Maggie. He'd known her beforehand; he performed at her birthday, not a year before. She'd called him with another gig at her house, alone. 
 
He told her that it was Luan who saved the performance at her house, he wasn't the talent behind that act. She knew, she said that the thing she needed help with had nothing to do with acting. 
 
He arrived at her house excited: $100 was a lot of money for a cleaning job. He wondered belatedly what he’d be doing, he hadn’t asked after she gave him the price. A knock on the door, and seconds later she stood in the doorway, cracking a presumably uncharacteristic smile. 
 
“Hi!” he says happily. “I’m here to…. Do what you need to do. What did you need me to do, by the way?” 
 
 Now, she loomed over him, pinning his arms to her bed, his pants around his ankles, and tears in his eyes as she took what she wanted. Every unwanted thrust sending shock waves of pleasure through her, and a bit of pain through him. 
 
He remembers her hand around his throat, the lack of air blurring his vision further. She peppers his face with kisses and nips at his skin, he chokes out a moan as they ejaculate together. 
 
“Definitely better than my fingers.” she said as he lay stark naked on the bed next to her, the little boy's mind reeling as it tried to deal with his sudden and profound violation. 
 
“Do me a favor and don't tell your sisters.” she said throwing a $100 bill on his sweat covered body, as she leaves the room. 
 
He lost his virginity that day and labored for weeks to forget the experience. 
 
He’d ended up pooling the money he’d earned to buy Lola a new tiara and Lana a black and decker drill. The party passed and his sisters were happy, all in all, it served to help him forget about what he had to do to get their presents, pushing it to the recesses of his mind when he saw their smiling faces that Saturday morning. 
 
------------------------------ 
 
“You're Lincoln Loud, right?” The girl asked. 
 
It'd been 3 months before he was stopped while walking near the park. 
 
He shakily confirms her question, his wariness of the opposite gender getting the better of him. 
 
“Maggie told us what you did for her, we want in,” she said, producing $100. The girls themselves were sporting menacing grins, they looked like typical tough girls, the kind that would sooner take your lunch money than talk to guys like him. 
 
He remembers telling them that he didn't like that kind of stuff, he told them that he wasn't going to do anything like that again. He remembers being snatched up by his collar. 
 
“If you want to see your dyke sister with all her teeth tomorrow, I suggest you do what we say.” she says as he nods quickly. 
 
They drag him to the park bathrooms. 2 standing guard while the first girl shoves him inside, she locks the door. 
 
Lincoln stood stock still as she circled him, he couldn’t really believe this was happening again. She slaps his ass as she commands him. 
 
“Pants,” she demanded. he tried in vain to talk himself out of this.

He’s turning purple before she lets him take a breath. She pulls her panties from his mouth, a small allotment of mercy to allow him to breathe. His chest heaves as quickly as he can manage, greedily sucking down all the air he could. 
 
“Ho- Wh-” he starts only to be silenced by her hand on his throat again. His breath hitches as he freely lets tears fall. To his surprise, the hand is gentle, merely caressing his throat as he whimpers in fear. 
 
“You know, Linky.” She says, profaning his nickname. “I can’t think of a single reason why we hang out with Leni.” 
 
His breath hitches again at the mention of his sister, only this time, in anger. 
 
“I mean, she knows a bit about fashion, I’ll say that. But, other than that, she’s as dumb as a bag of rocks, isn’t she?” she flicks his nose, as she sees the anger in him grow, he’s baring his teeth now. 
 
“But then, It's times like this when I remember exactly why I would hang out with such a retard.” she says, venom lacing her voice as she leans into him, as to whisper in his ear. 
 
“Because at the end of the day, I could either make or break her.” his eyes widen at the implication. “Such a dull girl, you wouldn’t want me to break her, would you, Lincoln?” she says, sitting up to look in his eyes. 
 
He looks back at her, he looks at her, his eyes wide as she bares a sadistic grin and her wild eyes. This was a whole new level of depravity, this wasn’t his first time being taken advantage of, but this feeling was new. 
 
Anger. He feels it now, it’s not the same childish, benign anger he feels when something doesn’t go his way, when plans fall apart when he’s targeted by a prank or some other problem. This was hate, a hate that burned him as she took what she wanted. The fire in his eyes stirs as she slides his pants down and takes a seat. 
 
She begins to move, stifling a moan. For the first time, he doesn’t moan, he doesn’t grunt in frustration, he doesn’t let the pleasure win. All he does, Is lock eyes with this woman, he memorizes every aspect of her face as she rides him, her putrid smile burning his core as the scowl on his face starts to hurt. Every pockmark, every blemish. 
 
The girls restraining him renew their force, feeling his arms tense under their grasp. His fingers flex as one attempts to stroke his face, to calm him down supposedly. It won't work. 
 
He’s down to the number of hair in her left eyebrow before she finishes, a whimper overtaking her, as she slides down his shaft a few final times, trying to squeeze every inch of pleasure out of her victim. 
 
Her crooked grin is forced upon him in a sloppy kiss, in which Lincoln immediately breaks away, attempting to bite her face as if he was a wild animal. A slap so loud he thought she’d wake the house resounds. 
 
“I like you, Linky,” she says squeezing his cheeks. “A feisty, good fuck, just like Carrie’s boyfriend,” she says, pointing one of the girls holding him down. 
 
“Yeah….. Wait, what?” Carrie responds. 
 
“But, I can’t say you’re worth anymore time than this,” she says dismounting him. “Too much emotional baggage.” 
 
As if forgetting the fact that she was raping him. 
 
“Well, that’s enough for me,” she says. “Come on, girls, it’s almost morning, I heard Linky makes breakfast.” She exits the room. “Oh yeah,” she says, stepping back a bit. “I forgot to pay you,” she crumples a 100 dollar bill and throws it at him, it lands on his chest. “And remember, your sister’s social future lies with you, keep that in mind if you feel the need to tattle, little boy.” 
 
“Wait, I don’t get a turn?” Carrie says following after Debbie. 
 
The last girl watches them leave. She looks back at the broken boy, his eyes seeming to burn with anger, the only thing to illuminate the dark room. She looks as if she’s preparing to speak. 
 
“I-I’m Sorr-” 
 
“Get out.” Is all he needed to silence her empty platitudes, the damage had been done, there was nothing left to say.

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