the bus stop,” the black guy said. “So hand it over.”
“What money?” she asked bravely. Stupidly.
The white guy kicked her in the side of her head and she went sprawling to the floor. Everything started to spin, and she could taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth.
“Fuck this,” he said, reaching down to yank her pullover up over her fat stomach and heavy breasts. “Christ, what are you, the living dough girl?”
His friend snorted laughter and reached down to prise the wads of money out of the cups of her bra. In doing so he dislodged the bra and her big tits spilled out.
“Fuck, she’s disgusting,” the white guy said.
But when Pam gazed up at him through blurry vision, she saw that her being so disgusting didn’t stop him from rubbing the obvious bulge in the front of his designer jeans.
“Help!” she screamed.
Her cries for help were cut short when the white guy kicked her hard in her bare, flabby stomach. She doubled over, the air whooshing out of her.
The black guy finished fishing out the last of the notes from her torn bra.
“I don’t fucking believe this, there’s fucking thousands here.”
“Check her bag, maybe there’s more,” said the other guy.
He proceeded to tug down her scruffy cleaning jeans, taking her knickers with it.
“Hey man,” his friend asked. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for more money. If she keeps it stashed in her bra, who knows where else she keeps it. Like, up her ass, or something.”
“Shit, we don’t have time for this, you dirty fucker. What you wanna fuck that dog for? Let’s get out of here.”
Pam remained doubled over on her side, the air cool against her bare buttocks.
Why is this happening to me? Oh God, my money…
In the distance a police siren could be heard.
“See,” the black guy said, “they’re on their way already.”
“Don’t be so fucking soft. This is fucking London, there’s always police sirens.”
“I don’t care. I’m gone.”
The white guy stared longingly down at her, then sighed deeply.
“Fine. Hey man, what’s that?”
“Dunno. It was in fatty’s bag.”
Pam blanched when she saw he was holding the lamp.
“No,” she wheezed. “Please don’t take that.”
That was absolutely the wrong thing to say.
The black man smiled. It showed lots of white teeth and the coldness of it sent a shiver down her spine.
They turned to leave, leaving her half naked and beaten, sprawled out in the alleyway.
“Shit,” one of them was saying, their figures and voices retreating. “I can’t believe that fat cunt had so much money on her…”
Pam groaned softly and pulled herself into a sitting position. Her attackers had taken every last penny. The fuckers.
But the worst thing of all was the lamp. Now she would never get her remaining five wishes.
What a fucking day, she thought miserably. She had drunk shit, been beaten up, lost ten grand, lost her job and any chance of a happy future now the lamp was gone.
Could this day get any fucking worse?
She didn’t think so.
She was wrong.
“What the fuck happened to you?”
“Hello Wayne. I got mugged on the way home.”
Wayne glared at her and Pam shrivelled inside. She knew that look and it wasn’t good. She dragged her aching body over to the tatty sofa that served as a wall, dividing the kitchen from the living room and collapsed onto it.
“I couldn’t give two shits what happened to you on the way home. I meant what the fuck happened at work.”
Fuck, he knows. He knows I walked out. Now I’m really in the shit…
“I’ve just been beaten up and mugged. Can we talk about this later?”
He was on her in a flash, pinning her down with his big body against the sofa.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. This rent don’t pay itself, you lazy, good for nothing slag.”
His breath was sour in her face, making her cringe. It wasn’t even yet midday and he’d already hit the booze.
Fucking marvellous.
“Wayne, please, have
“What money?” she asked bravely. Stupidly.
The white guy kicked her in the side of her head and she went sprawling to the floor. Everything started to spin, and she could taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth.
“Fuck this,” he said, reaching down to yank her pullover up over her fat stomach and heavy breasts. “Christ, what are you, the living dough girl?”
His friend snorted laughter and reached down to prise the wads of money out of the cups of her bra. In doing so he dislodged the bra and her big tits spilled out.
“Fuck, she’s disgusting,” the white guy said.
But when Pam gazed up at him through blurry vision, she saw that her being so disgusting didn’t stop him from rubbing the obvious bulge in the front of his designer jeans.
“Help!” she screamed.
Her cries for help were cut short when the white guy kicked her hard in her bare, flabby stomach. She doubled over, the air whooshing out of her.
The black guy finished fishing out the last of the notes from her torn bra.
“I don’t fucking believe this, there’s fucking thousands here.”
“Check her bag, maybe there’s more,” said the other guy.
He proceeded to tug down her scruffy cleaning jeans, taking her knickers with it.
“Hey man,” his friend asked. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for more money. If she keeps it stashed in her bra, who knows where else she keeps it. Like, up her ass, or something.”
“Shit, we don’t have time for this, you dirty fucker. What you wanna fuck that dog for? Let’s get out of here.”
Pam remained doubled over on her side, the air cool against her bare buttocks.
Why is this happening to me? Oh God, my money…
In the distance a police siren could be heard.
“See,” the black guy said, “they’re on their way already.”
“Don’t be so fucking soft. This is fucking London, there’s always police sirens.”
“I don’t care. I’m gone.”
The white guy stared longingly down at her, then sighed deeply.
“Fine. Hey man, what’s that?”
“Dunno. It was in fatty’s bag.”
Pam blanched when she saw he was holding the lamp.
“No,” she wheezed. “Please don’t take that.”
That was absolutely the wrong thing to say.
The black man smiled. It showed lots of white teeth and the coldness of it sent a shiver down her spine.
They turned to leave, leaving her half naked and beaten, sprawled out in the alleyway.
“Shit,” one of them was saying, their figures and voices retreating. “I can’t believe that fat cunt had so much money on her…”
Pam groaned softly and pulled herself into a sitting position. Her attackers had taken every last penny. The fuckers.
But the worst thing of all was the lamp. Now she would never get her remaining five wishes.
What a fucking day, she thought miserably. She had drunk shit, been beaten up, lost ten grand, lost her job and any chance of a happy future now the lamp was gone.
Could this day get any fucking worse?
She didn’t think so.
She was wrong.
“What the fuck happened to you?”
“Hello Wayne. I got mugged on the way home.”
Wayne glared at her and Pam shrivelled inside. She knew that look and it wasn’t good. She dragged her aching body over to the tatty sofa that served as a wall, dividing the kitchen from the living room and collapsed onto it.
“I couldn’t give two shits what happened to you on the way home. I meant what the fuck happened at work.”
Fuck, he knows. He knows I walked out. Now I’m really in the shit…
“I’ve just been beaten up and mugged. Can we talk about this later?”
He was on her in a flash, pinning her down with his big body against the sofa.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. This rent don’t pay itself, you lazy, good for nothing slag.”
His breath was sour in her face, making her cringe. It wasn’t even yet midday and he’d already hit the booze.
Fucking marvellous.
“Wayne, please, have
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