She smells like candy. That's what strikes Erik most as he stands in Gina's bedroom, watching her sleep. He's right by her bed, getting off on how vulnerable she is, on how much power he has over her at this instant. Her bare arm is raised up over her head on the pillow, and she's breathing deeply. It's been one week since he kidnapped this girl and her little sister and took them to one of his houses a few miles away from here. In this town, nothing's very far from anything else, so he's never been far from either of them. The cops don't know who he is, and they don't believe he'll try anything with the same victim twice, because up until now he hasn't. So he's here right now in her house while her boyfriend's off playing some show downtown.
He's getting ready, looking at her throat on the pillow, in the milky moonlight. He has to be quick, but he's sure of himself. Silently, he pulls the strange metal choker out of his pocket and bends it into a straight line. It feels tight and alert in his fingers, like a powerful snake poised to strike. He's careful to ready himself at a safe distance over Gina, so she won't sense him if she's a light sleeper. The rush of the moment is making his hands shake slightly, and he's trying to enjoy the feeling as much as possible without fucking it up.
This is the last instant where he can put the thing back into his pocket and leave, but he wants her too much to do that. Committing himself, Erik brings the choker down lightly against Gina's throat. On this delicate impact, it remembers its circular nature and snaps home around her neck, as a soft guttural sound escapes her lips. Gina's eyes flutter open and this is the best part. As she struggles to awareness and brings her fingers down to touch the cold metal, before she knows she's not alone, the choker begins to work. Her fingers stop before they reach her throat, and her eyes freeze before they focus. This is the first time Erik has used something like this and he's got a painful erection. Gina's a tiny mannequin in a department store bedroom display. Frozen. He wants to whip the blanket away and spread her legs apart, but the game won't be as fun that way, so he savors the moment of her helplessness and keeps his hands to himself.
He doesn't know how, but he can tell that she knows he's there. He can feel the fear that's squelched out in the static of the choker. He senses her scrambled effort to fight it, as well as the powerful field that keeps her from moving. Erik feels it's best to keep going, so he pulls the Walkman out of his pocket and gently slips the headphones over her ears, brushing stray strands of hair back. He feels that he might ejaculate just from feeling her body heat, so he quickly sets the Walkman down on the bed and presses Play. As the brittle copy of his voice leaks from the headphones into the midnight quiet, he starts to pace the room. He knows it'll be more fun this way, but he wants her now. He paces farther away from the bed.
There's a beautiful, dusky voice: Gina slurs, "I understand," and her head droops a little on the pillow.
It doesn't seem like ten minutes have gone by, but that's his cue. He gathers up the headphones and the Walkman and slips the choker off of her neck. Then he sneaks out the open window and shuts it behind him.
The sight of this house is making Grace sick. It's only been a week, but she's getting stir crazy. The cops said that Erik wouldn't try to get her again, and they wouldn't even send men to watch her house, but Mom freaked out and said she had to stay inside while she was at work, with the doors locked. Now her mother is away on a business trip for a couple of days, and she's not supposed to go anywhere except Gina's. Maybe Mom is over reacting, but Grace doesn't have a big problem going along with her, because she's still jumpy. The other night she screamed when Mom snuck up on her by accident. So her incarceration in the house is a mixed bag she feels safe and doesn't have to get a summer job yet, but she's a bored teenager in desperate need of stimulation. And it's not even noon yet.
She's watching Dune on the Sci-Fi Network and she wishes she had some pot. That's the only way this fucking movie makes sense to her. She's trying to figure out the deal with the hand gestures employed by the guys with the enormous eyebrows and bushy hair when someone knocks on the door. It's not the first time someone has come by the house during the day since her abduction, but she still feels a bitter electric spike of panic. She's glad she's not high after all.
The girl with the pizza is distorted in the front door peephole. Grace can't really tell who it is, but she seems cool enough she's got her uniform on and her car's idling in the driveway. Plus she's not a guy, so it can't be Erik. Before she opens the door she makes sure the chain's on.
"Hey," she says through the six inch gap the chain will allow. A blast of hot June air heats her face. The pizza girl looks at her, and from experience Grace knows she's tripping on how pretty she is. She seems kind of old to be delivering pizzas.
"Gotta delivery for ya?" Her Southern accent is thick. It makes Grace smile.
"Nope." She shakes her head, whacking her pigtails against the door and frame a little. "Sorry, I think you've got the wrong house."
"This Eighty-four Sweetbriar?" The question is rhetorical, slightly accusing.
"Yeah, but I didn't order a pizza." Grace wants to go back inside to the television. A trickle of sweat runs down her neck.
"You're sure." The pizza girl is not convinced.
"Yes," Grace replies quickly, starting to get irked.
The driver looks around the neighborhood for a moment. Grace thinks she's checking addresses on mailboxes. Then she sighs. "Look, it's too hot for me to figure out who fucked up back at the shop. Why don't you just take this one on the house and I'll say I was late with it?"
Grace perks up a little. "Really?"
The delivery girl nods, shifting her weight a little. She looks over her shoulder again.
Grace takes the chain off the door and the heat really comes in now. She steps back to let the driver into the foyer. As she reaches for the pizza, the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She frowns and takes the hot cardboard box out of the other girl's hands, but she's got something else under that: a little carton. The weirdest thing is that she's wearing gloves. The delivery girl lifts up the little box to show Grace and her thoughts smack against a wall. She has a hot flash and sees green and red explosions. Her skin is prickly and she can't unstick her brain. She hears a "plop" and feels something wet on her leg. She's dropped the pizza and the sauce is all over the place. She looks down stupidly to take it all in, which is a big mistake, because the floor rushes up to meet her like a freight train.
"Sugar, you're going to have to get up and come with me." The voice is in the air, over Grace's head. She's lying on the living room carpet on her back. She has no idea how long she's been passed out, but it doesn't seem like much time has passed the front door is still wide open. She can tell because of the damn heat, and she can hear the air conditioner straining to cool the house. "Shug. Get up for Faye. We have to go." The voice is kind but insistent. Grace feels like she could never disappoint it, and the voice is a little bit sad that she won't get up off the floor where she's laying like a moron, covered in pizza sauce. She strains to sit up and feels thin, strong hands help her along. "That's good." Grace is relieved that she's doing better and making the voice happy, so she gets ambitious and bends her knees, then struggles to her feet. The inside of her head is still hot and it's hard to control her limbs. But then she's standing up and looking at the pretty lady who came to see her. The lady is looking out the front door again, and Grace realizes now that she has been making sure no one was watching. She knows that this lady has just done something to her and is taking her away, but those thoughts are speeding away, and the time it takes for her to catch up with them is longer than the time it takes for her to follow the pizza girl out to the driveway.
Somebody's smoking a cigarette, and the smell makes Grace want to throw up. The nausea rouses her quickly and she raises her head. She's kneeling on some plastic on the floor. Her feet are bound together and they're asleep. She's chained to something that's holding her up. Her hands are tied, hanging painfully over her head and she's naked. Embarrassment clumsily flushes her cheeks as she labors to pick out her surroundings. She's hears a confused groan escape her lips as she sees the sheets hanging around her they don't want her to see where she is. There are lamps behind the sheets so she can't make out any details beyond her little white prison.
"What's next?" the pizza girl - Faye - says from somewhere. A cloud of smoke wafts around Grace.
"We break her down. Together." It's Erik, somewhere in the room with her. Grace tries to inhale, but sobs instead. Her head is pounding and she can tell she's coming down from a powerful high. Her shoulder is sore, and from experience she knows it's from a needle.
Faye laughs softly. "Your usual games aren't doing it for you anymore?"
"We have better toys now," Erik says, rising to the bait. "And cuter girls to play with. With what we can do now, they won't even want to get away."
Faye's tenor changes. "You're lucky I understand you. Or at least put up with you. If I hadn't been able to find that Anodyne shit through Marley, if I hadn't been there to help you, you'd still be fishing at raves." She stops to take a drag.
"I know how good you are to me, babe." Erik is trying to smooth her over. Grace can tell he's afraid of her. "You think of groovy things to spend my money on, and you brought me that little princess. Soon we'll have the complete set. I've already seen to that."
Faye snorts. "Just so long as you don't fill the house with college bimbos, and as long as you know what time it is." There's a threat in that statement that makes Grace shiver involuntarily, rattling her chains.
Erik changes the subject. "She's awake. Let's start." There's rustling: plastic and sheets. Erik steps behind Grace and starts to touch her. Grace's head is swimming and she remembers sex on this floor. "I'm going to finish what I started with you," Erik tells her, stroking her hair.
Grace can already feel a crude training in place, in her body. Erik's proximity has melted her fear, and she's swaying in the chains with base arousal. But she can still mumble through the fog of hormones. "You. You gotta let me go "
Erik sticks his finger in her mouth and she starts to suck it immediately. "See, that's the first thing we need to take care of. You want to leave, but I want you to be my house slut."
Faye steps in front of her and Grace shivers in her shadow. She grunts a little around Erik's finger. "Look at how much she likes that," Faye observes, lifting Grace's chin to see better. "That's one horny little suburban girl. Let's start this thing up." Grace hears a sound like a camera flash charging as Erik starts to massage her shoulder blades. Then she feels something like a bike helmet slip onto her head. Erik ties a strap under her chin. "Ready?" Faye asks.
"Do it," Erik invites.
There's a strobe inside Grace's head that's a mile wide. There are two alternating colors in her being silver and dark blue that flash by so fast she feels herself slacken in her chains before her aching arms go numb. The last thing she's aware of before losing her body completely is a string of drool, from her lips to her thighs. The strobe gains forward length to match its width, stretching out in front of her forever and she plummets into it immediately. She's hurtling down a silver and blue tube, striped with fractal patterns of infinite complexity. All she knows is speed, interspersed with jarring flashes of the world outside:
\A clamp on her nipple\
\Her chains removed, she spills onto the floor\
\Plastic sticking to her sweaty back\
\Her sister's voice. Cumming\
\Faye with her head between her legs. Erik taking Polaroids\
\Lying on her stomach, something in her ass. Cumming\
(Falling falling falling falling)
Gina's place is really, really clean. She's been holed up here for a week, obsessively cleaning, not venturing out at all except to stay with Seth. His place is really clean, too.
She's humming to herself as she cleans her shower, naked except for the sponge in her hand. When she's finished, she'll cruise over to Mom's and keep her little sister company. Mom's out of town and Grace has requested that she make a beer run. She's just now graduating from mixing together everything in the liquor cabinet and watering the bottles down to cover her tracks, and moving on to pestering people over twenty-one to buy Corona for her. Gina wipes some sweat from her forehead. She could use a beer.
The phone is ringing, down the hall. Careful to avoid the flashing any passers-by through the windows, she grabs the phone in the living room and ducks back into the hallway. "Yup?"
"Baby." It's Seth.
"Baby yourself, loverman," she croons. "'Sup?"
"Are you getting your sister drunk tonight?"
"There's nothing better to do, and you know very well how entertaining Grace is when she's tipsy."
"Oh, she's a laugh riot all right." Seth doesn't sound very sincere. "I wish I could hang out with y'all, though." He definitely means that.
"Fucker. I wish I could come out to your show."
"Let's wait a little longer. I don't care what the cops say." Seth is being protective. Gina's knees wobble a little. "I'll have my cell. Call me for anything. I'll put down my guitar and leave in the middle of the set if I have to."
"And soon Lain will have a new guitar player, if you miss much more band shit because of me," Gina teases. "Don't sweat me. I think I'll be fine."
"Gina, I mean it "
"Go do your sound check, asshole. Kisses. Bye."
She looks at the phone for a second like she might kiss it. Then she picks up her sponge and heads back to the bathroom, but the phone rings again. She spins on her heel and answers it. "Don't make me hurt you. Go. I'll be fine."
"Pineapple upside down cake." It's not Seth. It's Erik. Gina drops the sponge and leans against the wall.
"Yes?" she half whispers, looking at the ceiling.
"Sit down," the voice says. Gina crouches in the hallway.
"Finger yourself." Gina complies. She bites on her upper lip as she moistens herself.
"Are you good and wet?"
"Yes." She's still saying it like a question.
"Taste your fingers." Gina plunges them into her mouth, making greedy sounds into the phone. "Now play with yourself some more." Her hand lingers by her mouth, but she traces a wet line from her collarbone to her clit and picks up where she left off. She makes some more noise.
"I want you to listen to something." There's some muffled noise, then she can hear someone calling out in the background. It's Grace. And she's cumming. Gina has never heard her sister do that before, but the sound is unmistakable. "Hear that?" Erik asks.
"Yes!" Gina's hand speeds up.
Grace starts to whimper rhythmically. Someone is working her but good. The phone is obviously right up in her face now, and Gina's back arches away from the wall slightly. Reach out and touch someone, indeed.
Grace is close to getting off, and Gina is silently encouraging her, timing her own motions to the incoherent moans crackling in her ear. Gina is sure they're about to cum together, but Grace drops her rhythm, and Gina loses track of her own groove. She grips the phone in frustration, straining to hear Grace find her way again. She's frowning, strumming herself slowly as she waits, but her little sister gets them both on track again, and then there's a weird doubling effect, which is kind of psychedelic. Gina realizes that she's keening along with Grace, and the sound of her own voice is chorusing from the earpiece, so she's got this double feedback loop going her sister unknowingly egging her on, and her own throaty encouragement. And this is too much, because she crests, and she can't breathe until her shoulders stop quaking against the wall, and the perspiration breaks through her pores as she melts to the floor, still clutching the phone for dear life.
"Gina," Erik prompts.
"What are you doing tonight?"
"Going to see Grace."
"No you're not. You'll turn in early. You have a big day tomorrow."
"Five four three two one " And he hangs up.
Gina blinks twice. She breathes deeply, then she stands up, puts the phone back in the living room, and goes back to clean the shower, humming.
"No. No more " Grace is moaning. Her ears are buzzing and whenever she closes her eyes she sees vivid patterns that make her feel sick. She doesn't understand the machine they've been using on her, but she knows in her bones that they're not using the recommended setting. They're trying to burn out her neurons.
Erik leans over her on the floor and absently reaches out to her nipple, which makes her cum instantly. Again. He's been hovering over her ever since she woke up, sticky, next to an empty can of whipped cream. He leans in and licks her, from her belly button to her throat. Her thighs lock together as the multiples fire off. "Stop "
Erik smacks his lips, then kisses her on the mouth, causing her to flinch against the climax. Inches from her face, he says, "I won't stop until you want it over and over again, until you can never get enough. You're still resisting." It sounds to Grace like he wants her to keep resisting for a long time.
"I can't stand it any more," Grace whines softly, rolling around a little on the plastic.
Erik looks like he's hearing her for the first time. He takes her pulse, which thankfully doesn't make her cum. He makes her drink some water, then he stands up. "Get some sleep. I'll be back later."
Grace is so relieved by his absence that she drifts into sleep as soon as she can't hear his footsteps anymore.
It's a really hot afternoon, and Gina is driving home from Seth's. She's not really one for air conditioning, so she's got all the windows down and she's blasting Crystal Method some off the wall remix by DJ Tril B. She thinks about swinging by Mom's to see if she's back from her trip, but she'd want to change out of her negligible halter and bikini bottoms to avoid a prudish lecture about "giving away the whole store", so she decides to go by later. She adjusts her fly Kerropi sunglasses at a stoplight and taps her toe on the floor to the music. Today's the first day that she feels mellow after the abduction and she doesn't know why, exactly. Maybe it has something to do with the three wild rounds of sex with Seth on his kitchen floor today. Gina grins her boy can't get enough of her.
Her cell phone rings, so she fishes it out of her handbag. The light turns green and she steers with one hand while she pulls the antenna out with her teeth. She notices the guy in the car next to her is checking her out hardcore. He grins at her and nods, so she throws him a bone and smiles coyly around the antenna in her teeth, then puts the phone up to her ear. "Scully," she says. She'll never get tired of that one.
"Pudding in a cloud," a voice intones. Gina feels her smile fade as her face relaxes.
"Where?" she asks, paying rapt attention to the road.
"Destination number three." Click. Call's over.
Gina drops the phone into her lap and steps through the directions left on Fryberg, right onto Maxwell. As she rounds the corners the street names are erased from the list of directions in her head. There could be a giant monster chewing up the world behind her and she wouldn't know or care, she has someplace to be. She hopes she looks hot enough.
Sometime later she pulls into a driveway. She knows she has to wait, but doesn't remember what for until the garage door in front of her creeps open automatically. She pulls in and turns off the ignition, then steps out of the car. She's staring at the wall because she doesn't have anything left to do on the list, and she doesn't remember anything after getting out of the car.
"Go through the door on your right and come into the living room," a voice says over an intercom speaker. It's the same voice as the one on the phone, the one that's making her bikini bottoms sticky. She feels dizzy.
Gina tromps through the garage in her flip-flops and marches through the door, through a hallway, and into a typical living room. Erik's here and she's thrilled and nervous. She doesn't remember why she's nervous, and she doesn't care because he's kissing her and grabbing her ass. She's straining to meet his mouth because he's so much taller, so he scoops her up into his arms and starts to carry her off somewhere. She starts to giggle, but she sees a strange woman glaring at her across the room. She's tall, thin and pretty in a strange, exotic way. Gina decides she hates her.
"So this is the big sister?" the woman says, with a cruel emphasis on "big."
"Yes, this is the sister," Erik says. "The one that clocked me on the head last week. Isn't she the hottest little thing?" He gives Gina a squeeze.
"She looks like a skank. What's that outfit about?"
"Jealous, Daisy?" Gina inquires, getting a load of the girl's cutoff shorts. The woman makes a lunge forward with clear intent to bust her in the mouth, but Erik says, "Faye!"
Faye catches herself and stares Gina down. "Your sister was Erik's project. But you get to be mine." She stares bullets at Erik. "Right babe?"
Gina gets apprehensive at the same time Erik does she can feel it in his body language. "Right," he says hesitantly, giving her an unreadable look.
"My sister?" Gina squeaks. She had forgotten all about Grace.
Faye looks very pleased with herself. She looks like she's just figured out what makes Gina tick and she's going to take a screwdriver and dismantle her, spring by spring. "Oh, I picked up your sister yesterday, and we've gone to work on her already." She puts her hand to her mouth and calls upstairs. "Grace? Come down and meet the company."
Gina feels a dark pit form in her stomach and starts to wish she could remember how she got here. She gets very tense in Erik's arms and tries to think of the name of the last street she turned down. If that comes to mind, she hopes to God the previous one will shake lose, and so on. She's thinking very hard about this because she's trying not to hear the soft footsteps on the stairs. But Erik swivels around so she can see Grace at the bottom of the stairs. She's wearing a lot of makeup. She's decked out in a prep school girl uniform, with her shirt tied over her belly like that stupid fucking pop singer in that video that makes Gina want to throw a brick through her television. Grace's face is expressionless, infantile, and it's getting closer because Erik is carrying Gina over to her.
They just look at each other stupidly, because Grace looks totally fried and because Gina is being restrained by something in her head. Somehow, Erik has already done this to her without her even knowing it. She can't jump out of his arms and grab Grace and run for the car, and she doesn't have a clue where this house is. So she just stares at her little sister in her ridiculous plaid skirt, with a vague notion of how fucked they both are.
"Baby baby " Grace babbles, raising a little box up to her big sister's face. Gina's ears are buzzing, burning, and her eyes roll back in her head. She's dimly aware of Erik carrying her up the stairs.
To Be Continued