Abduction (20 page)

"Oh, God yeah." Then a bunch of little porn flick whiney sounds. Then, "Oh yeah, give me that big cock, baby." More whining. Then she threw herself down on her hands and with her tits jiggling against my face she went on in a low voice,

"Oh, baby, I can't believe how big you are. You're really filling up my hot little pussy."

She kept talking, whispering in my ear. Riding me, sliding her slick cunt up and down my hard prick. I was stuck there, immobile, and she just fucked and fucked. At one point she sat up straight and spread her lips with two fingers, and I watched as my cunt-slicked cock emerged hard and red under her as she rose up, watched it disappear up inside her again. With her other hand she started rubbing her clit, looking at what she was doing, then looking at me.

"Vaughn, baby, I'm gonna come with your big cock inside me."

She bit her lip and wrinkled her forehead, and started whimpering as she slid up and down my pole, fingering her clit.

"Yeah, Vaughn, oh yeah, you're so big, so hard in my wet little pussy. Make me come. Fuck me and make me come."

She was whining, almost squealing as she bounced over my cock, rubbing her clit, her beige Barbie body glistening with all her effort. She came, or pretended to, and fucked some more, riding me in a total frenzy.

It was killing me. I'd been on the edge forever, having just come, but my throbbing, Viagra-fueled prick raging for more. All her stroking, her frenzied fucking, the sight of her touching herself and coming and jerking over me as she fucked my miserable, needful cock with her relentless cunt. I was in agony. And it felt like it would never end, like this fucking, this pain, this anxiety would go on and on forever.

Then, finally, mercifully, I felt I was about to come. She sensed me tense, or breathe differently.

“That’s a good boy, you just let me fuck you until you come.” She pushed herself back up, away from me so I could really see her, moving up and down, her tits moving up and down. She took my hands and pushed them against her tits, squeezed her breasts with my hands, pinched her nipples with my fingers. And then I came. Violently. All my muscles so soft and useless, and my cock and balls seemed to throb and release with the whole power of my limp body. I was coming. And I was crying.

I'm not sure why I cried then, when I hadn't cried through everything up to that point. Maybe I was afraid she wasn't going to stop there, that she'd use my cock until it was so chafed and sore I'd never be able to use it again. Or that she'd keep me doped 174

up on Viagra and whatever had paralyzed me, and keep me as a Ken doll dildo for the rest of my fucking life.

Or maybe…Jesus, I don't know, but maybe some little fucked up part of me didn't want her to go. I mean, I wanted her to leave but…fuck, I couldn't understand it, but I was anxious, almost afraid to see her go. And I knew, even then, even not understanding, that that fear had nothing to do with being afraid to be alone with my body not working.

She got off me, off the bed, put on her panties and her dress. She was leaving. I still couldn't move. She smiled at me as she got dressed, as if we'd just had a hot one night stand.

“Thanks for the lay. I’ll always have a great story to tell about the night Vaughn Doe invited me back to his hotel room and fucked me silly."

And then, just before she opened the door, she laughed a demented little laugh.

"You know what would be wild, Vaughn? What if you got me pregnant tonight? That would really be something, huh?"

She left me there, sticky with her juice and my come, the smell of her on my face, still unable to move, still afraid I might never be able to move again, that I might die, seething with furious resentment that she had gotten what she wanted. And, fuck me if that wasn't just an idle bluff about her getting pregnant. Jesus, what if she wasn't on birth control?

By morning I’d recovered from the drugs. I'd had all night to lie there and think about what had happened, what I would do. At first I was just waiting until I was strong enough to reach the phone and call the cops. But the longer I thought about it, the less 175

I wanted to do that. There'd be no way to keep it quiet. The press would get hold of it.

They'd make a joke of it. Even the cops would think it was funny. "Poor baby, poor little rock star comes crying to the cops 'cause some hot young girl drugged and fucked him."

Even if they'd be decent about it, it was all just too humiliating.

Writing this now, I'm realizing something besides the fear of exposure and embarrassment kept me from calling the cops. I was too confused about how I felt about what she'd done. I didn't think I could even tell the story without getting obviously aroused. Fuck, I couldn't even think about it without getting hard.

Still, somehow I thought I would tell Edi when I got home. It wasn't something I could tell her over the phone. But then, when I was with her again, I couldn't tell her. I just wanted to forget it, pretend it hadn't happened. For lots of reasons. Yeah, it was scary, and ugly, and strange. I guess it's normal, to want to move on, even to live in some kind of denial, when someone's broken in and…raped you. I guess that's what she did to me. She raped me. It seems weird to say that about myself.

But I think maybe there's more to it than that. I don't know.

Anyway, in the end, I never told anyone. Instead I put lots of effort into forgetting the whole thing. When I got home I laid out a pile of cash on beefing up our home security system, and installing a home gym and hiring a personal trainer. I knew perfectly well that what had happened in that Austin hotel room had nothing to do with whether or not I was physically strong—shit, I probably outweighed that little thing by a hundred pounds, and what difference had it made? But I needed it. It helped me feel like my body was mine. And when I didn't question things too much it gave me a sort of feeling of security.

But those feelings of security and self-possession didn't last long.

January 19th

That stuff in Austin was crazy. Scary and beyond belief. But it was fucking nothing compared to what happened later. I mean…

Shit. I'm not going to get anywhere if I sit here crying like a fucking idiot.

I can't. I can't.

January 23rd

All right, I'll try this again. Good old Jack Daniels. Courage and reckless honesty in a bottle.

Okay. So. Seattle, a couple months ago. November.

Edi had left that morning for New York—a business trip. I'd just gotten in from a long day at the studio. I gave Edi a call at her hotel, and we talked for a while. When I hung up the phone it rang just a second or two later. I figured it was Edi, that she'd forgotten to tell me something. I picked up and a woman started talking.

"Hello, Vaughn." It wasn't Edi.

"Hey…"

I was trying to place the voice. Throaty. Sexy.

"Are you lonely?"

"Who is this?"

"Since you're wife's out of town, I thought we'd come keep you company." She spoke in a sultry whispering tone. "I'll see you in a minute, Vaughn."

Before I could say anything I heard a click. I tried to get back on the line, star-sixty-nine and find out who'd called me, but the phone was dead. I was still messing around with it, trying to get a dial tone, when my front door opened and a woman walked in.

I just thought, 'this is not fucking happening.' I mean, it couldn't. How could it?

"Get the fuck out of my house." I meant for it to be a shout of rage, a threat. But I heard myself. I sounded afraid.

I charged toward her. It would be easy, I thought, to grab her and toss her out the front door. She smiled a big red lipstick smile and pulled something out of her pocket.

Some kind of black device.

"Don't be rude, Vaughn. Say hi to my friends."

She was strangely composed for a woman being rushed by a guy my size. She calmly stood her ground, and her sultry voice was soft and low. With that little black thing in her hand she gestured past me. I turned and there were two other people standing by the patio door. A man and a woman. I wondered how the hell they had gotten past the security system.

"What the fuck is this?"

"Just a little party to entertain you while your wife's away."

Another flash of shiny red lips and shiny white teeth. I made my move. I had to get out of there. I didn't touch her, and she didn't touch me. I got to the front door. My hand was shaking as I turned the deadbolt. Maybe if I'd kept my cool…but before I got it unlocked she jammed something into my back, and I fell on the ground. I felt like I was having a convulsion. She'd tasered me.

When I came to my senses all three of them were standing over me Like shadows. I heard voices. Then hands hooked under my arms. My limp body was dragged, hoisted onto the sofa. God, no. Please. Not again. I couldn't.

"That wasn't nice, Vaughn, trying to walk out on your guests like that." It was the one with the red lips. The one with the stun gun. "Now, puppy, let us introduce ourselves and tell you about the fun we have planned for tonight."

Christ, fuck. Why? What am I talking about? Why what? I guess… just…why such ugly, using, meanness?

The three of them stood a few feet in front of me, looking like characters out of a movie. The one who'd tasered me had a kind of Betty Page thing going—long black hair, short bangs, red lipstick. But her body was more Russ Meyer than Betty Page. To her left, a petite blond who looked barely out of high school. And on the other side of Taser Girl, a seedy looking guy, skinny and scruffy and pale in a heroine chic kind of way.

"I'm Brigid, this is Jimmy, and this," she paused for effect, "is Miranda." I didn't like the way she said it, the other girl's name.

The girlish blonde gave a huge, eager smile better suited to greeting a prom date than meeting her hostage. Right away, right then, I dismissed her. She seemed so…sort of inconsequential. It was the other two, the woman with the taser and the man, who scared me. But now I think about her, Miranda, more than the others.

The red lips went on talking. "And now, about tonight's fun and games. Do you like games, Vaughn?"

I felt my strength returning and I was waiting for my chance to get the fuck out of there. I wasn't drugged this time. I hadn't seen a real gun. No fucking way was I going to let them…touch me.

"There are just a few rules you need to understand before we start playing. There are two teams of four."

I started half wondering if this was some weird, extreme reality TV thing.

"What are you talking about?" I was confused, hoping, needing there to be a reason, any absurd reason, for them to be there.

"Be patient. I'm explaining it. Here's how it works. We tell you what we want you to do. If you do it, goodie for us. And if you don't, well, the other team gets to have the fun."

I was staring at her, trying to parse.

"Here, let's do a practice round." She turned to the blonde. "Miranda, what would you like your little puppy to do?”

Miranda blushed, then turned to Taser Girl and whispered behind a cupped hand.

“Don’t you want to tell him yourself?”

Miranda shook her head.

“All right sweetie.”

The two women turned to face me again, and Miranda was almost wiggling with excitement as Taser Girl spoke.

"Vaughn, Miranda would like you to take off your shirt."

I jumped up, ready to shove my way through their line and get out of there. How was this happening again? Taser Girl waved her weapon at me.

"Naughty boy. Sit back down."

The thought of being shocked again had me scared enough. It wasn't the pain, it was the fear of being incapacitated. Of being vulnerable. Like the last time. I sat.

"Now, either you take off your shirt, or the other team gets a turn. Know who the other team is? Hmmmm? Graham, Perry, Rick, and, your darling wife, the lovely Edi."

Not her name in that mouth.

"What? What the fuck…"

Not Edi. I couldn't take it.

"Sshhh." Taser Girl hushed me impatiently. "Pay attention, Vaughn. Since your wife's all alone in that great big suite in her New York hotel, I sent a couple of my friends over to keep
her
company, just like we're keeping
you
company."

I don't know what I thought when I heard that. It was too much to take in.

"Right when the phone went dead—just after I called you—remember? My friends were paying a visit to your lovely wife. They're with her right now, in her hotel room. So, whenever you refuse to do something we want, it's their turn, and Edi will have to do what they want."

"You're full of shit."

I spat my words at her. I wasn't even going to cry. It was too awful to even think of believing it. And it was impossible.

"Waldorf Astoria. Room 2636," Taser Girl challenged.

"Wrong. Wrong hotel, wrong room number." I was bluffing. Right hotel. And I didn't know what room she was in.

"Oh, no, Vaughn.
Right
hotel.
Right
room number. And let me think, what else did Graham mention? Oh, yes. Red pumps, red skirt, and a tight black sweater that really hugs her tits."

Red skirt, black sweater. Her clothes. What she'd worn to the airport. It was true.

Someone was with her—had her. I couldn't face this.

"What are you saying?"

I could barely speak, my strength had all drained away. I was cold. Taser Girl's bantering manner faded away and she spoke with blunt cruelty.

"Mrs. Doe, your darling Edi, is in her room with three men. If you don't play nicely with us, they get to play with her."

"Please. You can't be doing this."

I was ready to puke. The things I was picturing, Edi crying, men grabbing her, hurting her.

"Don't snivel, Vaughn. It's not manly. Just be a good team player, and your little Edi won't suffer anything worse than a tense couple of hours. Right now, the boys are just keeping her company, sitting quietly like nice gentlemen. Sure, they've tied her hands behind her back and stuffed a ball gag into her mouth—Graham has a thing for ball gags. But, if you're a good boy, it will go no further on that end, and you can tell your precious Edi that it was just a ransom thing. You paid, they let her go."