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For centuries the city has always seemed a place of refuge, a home, another chance-perhaps the last-to start a new life in the center of industry and the arts.
It has drawn the rootless, the despairing, the hopeful, the old and the young. Most come willingly, seeking something bright and new. And most are disillusioned, finding only ugliness, squalor and a demeaning existence. These newly arrived, newly despairing individuals soon drift into meaningless jobs or even more meaningless inactivity, or, if luckier, return home to friends and family and a more productive life, wiser for their experiences.
Debbi’s Dirt Road is the shocking story of one girl and the dreams she left behind in her search for love, for success, for some sort of happiness in the big city. It is also about the shame she found, the degradation she endured and the sin that became a way of life for her, an American dream that turned into an endless nightmare.
The room seemed quiet, yet somehow foreboding to young Debbi Blackwell. The bed seemed much too large for her and the heating in the building was terrible. One of the men she now lived with had given her a pair of men’s pajamas. The fabric scratched against her already hard nipples to remind her she was horny. The men had taken turns using her in any sexual manner they pleased, in return for her meals and a place to sleep. The very first night with them she had lost her virginity.
The leader of the band of vagrants who owned the small house was named Rex. And he was king. Rex had been the first to take what Debbi had so steadfastly guarded from her boyfriend Ken back in her home town of Kiler, Kansas. Debbi had always felt she was saving herself for marriage. But now that she lived on the streets, she had to abide by a whole new set of rules.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.