Your Favorite Girl (YFG Series) (8 page)

I tried to rise.  "Are you okay?"

She nodded quickly, biting her lip, shooting glances at the door.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"You're back at the company," she said.  "Melissa, listen."  She lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned in so close I could smell the peppermint on her breath.  "You have to do exactly as I tell you, okay?  Everyone's pissed and I'm trying to keep them from doing anything rash."

"Like what?" I asked.  I tried to sit up
again, forgetting in my growing panic that I was tied down, the thought of which only make things worse.  My lungs felt like empty tubes of toothpaste.  I could tell the level of danger I was in by the look on Kate's face.  This was a butcher's table, and I was a slab of meat.

"What are they going to do to me?"

She broke eye contact.  "One of two things," she said.  "Keep you or kill you."

I started to cry.  Kate touched my face.

"Look," she said, sniffling.  "When they come in here, you can't act afraid.  They're killers, you understand?  They enjoy it."

"Can you call the police?"

She shook her head.  "The only outside phone lines are in the conference room and the executives' private offices.  I can only use the phone for consultations, and they monitor every one."  After a brief pause, she added, "There's no way out, either."

The
gravity of the information sucked out whatever energy I had left.  My head rolled to the side, away from Kate, and for the first time I noticed the small rolling cart standing flush against a row of cabinets.  Upon it lay a blue mat with dozens of surgical instruments.  Above the cart, on the counter, was a small glass-front refrigerator.  I couldn't make out the labels on the small glass bottles inside, but everything on the lowest rack was filled with blood.

I pulled and jerked at my straps
, murmuring, begging for help.  My muscles ached.  I couldn't breathe.  Images of scalpels slicing through skin flashed through my mind like a twisted medical slideshow.

"Hold still," Kate whispered
.

I obeyed
.  I lay perfectly still, so anxious that my legs began to cramp, which led to me biting my lip and clenching my eyes shut.

A teardrop streamed down to the corner of my mouth and broke, wetting the seam formed by my lips.

Not a teardrop
. 
I'm on my back.

It couldn't be a tear drop.  I didn't feel sad at all.

"My lips are tingly," I said drunkenly, opening my eyes to find Kate hovering so close to me that her hair walled me off from the rest of the room, leaving only her face for me to see.

"I drugged you," she whispered.  "Whatever happens, it'll make things easier."  She kissed me on the forehead and, starting to cry, said, "I'm really sorry, Melissa, but you're gonna have to m
ake them want to keep you alive.  All five of them."

All five of them.
  The way she said it.  Hesitant, drawn-out, as if considering them one by one as she spoke.

"Who are they?"

"The owners, our masters.  The five brothers who own this company.  Well, four of them own it.  Clifton is . . . well, he's their sack of shit half-brother."  She shot her head at the door and jumped away from the table, startling me.  "He's coming."

I never heard any footsteps.  The door just opened, the hinges so well oiled all you could hear was the waft of air, and in stepped a tall, fat,
hairy man dressed like he just came from an auto garage, with odd stains on his oversized t-shirt and a shine about his skin that guaranteed rank body odor.  He was so large he waddled, batting his arms out behind him as though chest-deep in water.

"Kate, now goddamn it," he bellowed with a deep, throaty, coal-miner's voice.  "You know you ain't supposed to be in here.  Come here."

Clifton rushed Kate, who backed up into the corner, pointing a finger and gritting her teeth, saying, "Don't you dare touch me, Clifton. 
Clifton!
 
You almost killed me last time!
"

With my neck arched and my head tilted back as far as it would go, I could barely see what was happening.  I saw
Clifton grabbing Kate around the waist and using his free hand to pull down his sweatpants, exposing his big pale hairy ass.

Then they both dropped below the
table and all I could see was Clifton's head.  To my horror, he turned to me just as Kate's muffled screams began.  He was grinning and shaking.

He's m
asturbating.

"What are you doing to her?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"Sittin' on her face," he replied, snorting like a pig.  "She screams and it vibrates on my balls."  He grunted harshly.  "And then she always starts bitin' me!  Damn it, Kate, come here!"

I heard Kate gasp for air and then cry out.

"Open your mouth, honey," he said, the increasing pace of his masturbation evident in the vibration in his voice, adding futility, aggression.  "You better open up, Kate, goddamn it.  I'll come tickle you every night.  You know I will."

"Leave her alone," I murmured.

"Too
late
," he groaned, and then he exhaled, wheezing open-mouthed as he ejaculated on Kate's face.

His laughter sent a chill up my naked body.

"I told you," he said.  "Every night now."

I could see him standing and as he turned to me I saw he still had his dick in is hand.  He moved around behind my head, where I had to arch my back to see him towering over me like a skyscraper, his image darkened by the bright light behind him.

Suddenly I felt something warm and slimy slide across my forehead, and I heard Clifton's phlegm-clotted laughter.

This was the grossest moment of my life.  The stench of his crotch like rotten vegetables
, amplified by his heat.

Kate lay on the floor crying furiously.

"Clifton, put your dick away and get Kate the hell out of here!"

It was the voice of a young man, one who asserted authority but might not really possess any.
  At least Clifton moved away from me.  I dared take a deep breath and the pleasure of it reminded me that I was drugged.  I became acutely aware of the wetness forming between my legs, the aching sensation.  I felt disgusting.

The young man
who had spoken approached the table.  He wore a white lab coat and thin-framed glasses.  He was pale, clean shaven.

Clifton
lumbered past, dragging Kate as she kicked and tried to jerk free.  She was sobbing, and that made me angry, which the young man must have noticed because he turned to Clifton and said, "Take Kate to a shower and then leave her alone for the rest of the day."

"She wasn't supposed to be in here,
Brian.  Oscar told me hisself.  You'n ask him when he gets here."

Brian walked away and returned with a plastic box containing alcohol-soaked napkins.  The sensation was cold and tingly on my forehead.  The first relief I'd felt since waking up in this room, Brian wiping away
Clifton's come mark.

When the door closed and the room fell silent, I felt more relief.  Kate's absence worried me, but I trusted that
Clifton would obey Brian's orders, as he seemed to be doing so far.

"Don't be ashamed to cry," Brian said.  I looked at him but he was focused on cleaning my forehead.  "I understand your frustration.  If it were up to me, I'd have killed
Clifton a long time ago.  He causes nothing but trouble."

Brian tossed the soiled napkins at a waste basket and I heard a set of keys rattling
, then a clicking sound.

My left ankle was free.

A few seconds later, my right ankle.

I drew my legs up so that my heels touched my butt cheeks.  It felt wo
nderful to be able to move.  A lump even formed in my throat.  Maybe Kate had overestimated how angry they would be.  Maybe they would let me go home.

Brian was at my side again, and I felt the sleeve of his lab coat touching my forearm as he unlocked the strap on my wrist.

With only one wrist to go, I sat up, drawing my knees to my chest.  Somehow I felt colder now, and yet the drug had me aroused, a most uncomfortable combination.  I wanted clothes.

Brian stopped at the final corner of the table and looked me in the eyes for the first time.
  His irises were unmatched splashes of color, like galaxies encircling the black holes of his pupils.  I was mesmerized by them.  At the same time, though, I couldn't get over how young he looked.  Twenty at the most.  He had a cowlick in his light brown hair, and his eyes wandered down my body uncontrollably.  His sexual experience might well be limited to his own hand.  And yet he was a co-owner in a company this sophisticated?  It didn't make sense.

Brian
wrapped his hand softly around my wrist and touched the key to the lock.

"You know how to behave, don't you?"

I nodded, then winced.  He was squeezing.

"Are you a monkey?
" he asked, barely above a whisper.  "Don't nod at me unless you want a fucking banana.  Answer my question."

"Y-yes," I said quickly.

"Yes what?"

"I know how to behave."

"Perfect," he said, unlocking my final restraint.  "I see you actually pay attention.  You're adaptable.  That's not common in young women.  And there you go, you're free."

My hand was free.  I was loose.

Without thinking, I slid off the side of the table opposite Brian, who started laughing before my feet touched the icy tile floor.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

I covered my breasts and turned around.  Brian had his hands on the table.  I couldn't tell if he was amused or enraged.  "I was just getting down," I said.

"Did I say you could do that?"

"No."

"Well."

"Well . . . what?"

"Get
the fuck back up there."

"Why?"

"Because I--what's your name?"

"Melissa."

He stood up straight and slipped his coat off.  Underneath it he wore slacks with a blue shirt and tie.  "Melissa," he said, "I'll slit you wide open if you don't do what I tell you."  He paused to hang his coat on a rack, then turned to face me.  "You know, I can stand here and tell you I know methods of torture no military force in history has dreamed or developed, but you won't believe me."  He paused again, both in speech and in movement, like a skip in a music track.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out.  "I was only asking if there was a specific reason I needed to be on the table.  I promise I
'm not going to run or do anything.  I'll cooperate."

"If you were
cooperating you'd be scooting your little ass across this table."

Whatever attractiveness I'd attributed to this
kid was merely a mirage formed in the waves of Clifton's stench.  I saw that even through the buzz of the Libido Drug.  The look on his face made me feel like a little girl alone at night, her eyes adjusting to the dark and too afraid to look directly at the figure taking shape in the corner.

He did ha
ve a grace about him, though, like the edge of a razor.  Despite my disgust, I felt drawn to him.  It's hard to describe the feeling.  I kind of wanted to bite him, like a little girl on a playground.  Bite him really hard and then run.

What made it worse was that he never stopped moving, aside from that one dramatic and deliberate hitch
.  He looked like a man braced for attack from any angle.  A ninja in plain clothing--well, scientist's clothing.

"Lie down, please," he said.

Now would be the time to run, but I couldn't do it.  Kate's voice kept reverberating:
There's no way out.  Make them want to keep you alive.

I obeyed, returning to my original position, only I put my arms at my sides, praying he wouldn't tie me up again.

"Spread your legs, please."

He came around the foot of the table to the counter.  My heart began to race as his hand glided over the surgical instruments to open a drawer next to the small cart.  He pulled out a box of surgical gloves.

"Are you going to hurt me?" I asked.

"Not if you behave," he replied without turning.

I closed my eyes, drew my legs up, and spread them.  A moment later I felt his forearm press against my thighs, gripping one with his latex-wrapped hand.

He inspected me.  Why, I didn't know.  Maybe he planned to have sex with me and wanted to make sure I didn't have any diseases.  Or a basic cavity search.  Either way, my arousal intensified and I began to breathe deeply.

Brian giggled.  "You're drugged, aren't you?  Kate thinks she's so crafty."

He put pressure on my clit, rubbing slowly, and I felt the birth and rapid growth of an orgasm.  I slipped my hand between my legs and pressed my palm on the two fingers he was using to massage me.