by A. R. Braun
He clomped up the steps.
Scout had stopped crying. She was thinking that the minute they left her alone, she’d try to break the window and get out.
Click.
So much for that hope. Why did she have such crappy short-term memory? Was the marijuana making her stupid already?
Click.
The handcuffs had secured her left wrist, as well as her right.
Nauseatingly, Lelila pulled a bedsheet out from under her ass and ripped it in two, using it to tie Scout’s feet to the wooden posts at the foot of the bed. She cinched it tight as fuck. “You shouldn’t have hit me. That’s gonna make it worse on you.”
“Please, don’t.” Scout’s tears fell again. “I have to get home to my mom. She’ll worry.”
“Shush. I’m gonna get your insulin as soon as I’m done with this. We’ll feed you. You’ll be fine.”
“B-but … when can I go home?” Scout whined.
Lelila shook her head. “Don’t know about all that. You’re our piece of ass.”
“Oh no.” Scout bawled again.
So it’s true. I’m not going anywhere.
Scout’s mind reeled as Lelila smacked her as hard as she could. Scout saw stars. She lay the back of her head down on the pillow hard, almost winked out.
Lelila stuck a finger in her face. “Don’t ever hit me again, bitch. You punch like a girl. But I’m a dude. I just showed you that.”
Mack came down with the bottle and the bucket. He reached into the bucket and withdrew duct tape. “Heads up!” He threw that to Lelila, also.
Lelila leaned over her, her soft black hair scented with conditioner brushing Scout’s face. “Sorry about this.”
Scout shook her head quickly. “No! No, no, no, please!”
Lelila affixed a few strips of the tape over her mouth.
“C’mon,” Mack said, “I wanna watch that rape and slasher movie, babe.”
Lelila nodded. “Coming.” She was looking over the insulin pen, probably trying to make sure she did it right. She didn’t appear to be intelligent enough to administer it. “Oh, fuck it.” She pulled the cap off and jabbed it into Scout’s forearm.
She keened from under the duct tape.
“There you go.” Lelila put the cap back on the pen and chucked it into the purse. “Go to sleep now. We’ll either be back down tonight when we get the urge, or we’ll see you in the morning.”
Scout shook her head violently back and forth, a muffled scream straining to get through the gluey tape.
Yet Lelila clomped up the stairs, shut the door and locked her inside. And turned off the lights, leaving her trembling in the dank, dark space, scented with mildew, where she wouldn’t sleep, couldn’t. Where she’d go insane for fear.
Being alone was even worse.
CHAPTER FIVE
Scout’s sleep was fitful. She kept drifting off, then waking up, electric shock hitting her brain when she remembered her captivity. How could she forget, bound as she was? Eventually, she’d fall asleep again out of exhaustion. Later, she’d wake when hearing—what the hell was that?—perhaps … ugh … rats scurrying around? Oh, that skuzzy boyfriend of Lelila’s.
Chilly temperature assaulted her. She couldn’t pull the covers over her, of course. The handcuffs chafed her wrists as she struggled to get free, a futile endeavor. Lelila had bound her feet tight enough, all right. Scout had thought she’d be able to pull and pull with her feet, thereby tearing the sheets. But she couldn’t get enough purchase. What good would it do to get her feet free when she was handcuffed to a bedpost anyway?
She wasn’t going anywhere.
Her brain threatened to catch fire with anxiety, onward into … what? Insanity? And would she even know the difference?
What a terrible thought.
She mused over how worried her mother must be. Scout could just see her, staying up all night, waiting for her to come through the door. She visualized her waiting by the phone and, finally, calling the police. She wasn’t considered missing for forty-eight hours. So what was Scout supposed to do for two days?
Her thoughts turned to her sexuality.
Guess I’m bi now, after what Lelila did to me.
Scout realized something while down in the catacombs. Just because she’d been aroused didn’t mean it wasn’t rape, a heinous crime. She’d not consented.
As if in answer to her thought, the door to the basement opened and soft pitter-pattering came down the stairs. Probably not Mack. For a few seconds, she hoped one of their other friends had joined the party and would find her in the basement and help her escape.
Please, God.
But God didn’t hear.
“Hello, sexy,” Lelila whispered into her ear … and ripped the tape off her mouth all at once, making her keen from the jabbing pain. Scout gasped for breath.
That gross skank. Don’t give in! These people are evil, unholy fiends, once Godlike, which makes them the wickedest persons on the planet: hypocrites.
“C-could you turn on the light, please?” Scout’s voice sounded like a whiny little girl, and it sickened her.
“Nope. Always wanted a strange encounter in the dark.”
Scout’s heart drooped.
“Always wanted to grind a bitch, too.”
“No, please. We’re Christians. God will damn you.”
High-pitched, girlish laughter flushed out the silence. “Girl, you the one damned, the situation you’re in. Now hush.”
Lelila mounted her after spreading Scout’s legs. She could tell her “bestie” hadn’t bothered to put clothes on. Her breasts squished against Scout’s, and her soft skin tempted to arouse her while her long black hair engulfed her face like a lilac-scented curtain closing on an actor. Her mane made Scout itchy. Lelila’s glossy lips touched Scout’s, and she tried to move her head from side to side, so Lelila held her face still with her hands.
“Don’t make me fuckin’ smack you again.”
Then, holding Scout’s leg, Lelila humped her, bumping and grinding with her sex. The bedsprings creaked. Scout went to a better place, a picnic at the park last year with her parents, with fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, Frisbee and her crazy metalhead cousins Devin and Clete. They’d goofed off, imitating cartoon characters like the South Park kids, Beaky Buzzard and the Family Guy cast.
Slimy moisture ensued down below, and Lelila’s vaginal lips slid across her torso.
“Always wanted to give a golden shower.”
Scout wept. “No, please, I’ll throw up.”
“Go ahead and cry and puke. It makes it all the sweeter.”
This can’t be happening. I’m having a nightmare. Any moment I’m going to wake up and be safe in my bed at home after a fun evening with … Lelila.
Yet the urine rained down, the bitter warm fluid causing Scout to upchuck all over her neck. When Lelila put fresh duct tape over Scout’s mouth, the latter wished she was dead, wished she’d never been born.
***
After Lelila left, Scout began to wonder if her mother would be looking for her, or if she even cared. She knew the suspicion was her anger asserting itself—aggressing, actually. Yet she couldn’t help it. All her mom had to do was find Mack’s truck, and she’d find her daughter. Scout reasoned that if it was her, she’d be scouring the city until she found that fucking truck. If the pigs wouldn’t do anything, she’d do it herself.
Now she lay drenched with piss and vomit. What a shitty couple of parents.
Itchy sensations thrummed on her torso and chin. She still heard the rats scurrying, but didn’t think they could climb onto the bed. When a couple of feelers tickled her lips, however, she knew she had company, and what kind of critters they were.
Cockroaches.
Or maybe beetles. They’d come for the puke and piss—tasty, Dairy-Dream treats to them.
Scout shook her head to get them off.
Mighty white of Mack and Lelila to bind me so I can’t brush them off. She didn’t eve
n wipe my face, the cunt.
But the more creatures she shook off, the more came, hungry and thirsty for the bile she was crowned with, a helmet of disaster.
Grotesque, that.
Consequently, she thrashed her head side to side, with stealth, vehemence, TERROR, doing anything she could to keep the critters off of her.
But this just made her dizzier, and she puked even more, drawing more critters, more anxiety, more horror, more fright turning into panic.
No one rescued her.
She passed out.
***
Scout woke to Lelila cleaning her face with a washcloth and a bowl. “Sorry about last night.” She eased the duct tape off this time, which hurt even more.
Scout caught her breath, then tried her best to scowl and squint. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, but you’re no friend at all. I hate you! Let me go or I’ll scream my guts out.”
Lelila smiled, somehow picturesque in the morning light shining into the one window and giving her—insanely!—a saintly visage. “I’ll put the duct tape back on, then.”
Great.
Lelila seemed to be deep in thought—if that was possible. “Nah, go ahead and scream. We bangin’ on the south side, bein’ gangsta.”
Scout hissed, wincing in between wipes of her face. “You won’t get away with this.” She never thought she’d utter such a cliché, but there it was.
Lelila laughed. “That’s so bo-ooring. This ain’t Adventures of Superman, Lois Lane. Lex Luther wins in this world, and you know it.”
Scout could take no more. She screamed, shrieking so violently she thought the window would shatter, like in those old Memorex commercials her dad had on his VCR tapes when she’d watched an old movie with him, Rosemary’s Baby, she believed it was.
A white flash of light followed by dots in front of her eyes after Lelila clocked her.
“You don’t want to mess with me, hater,” Lelila spat. She resumed cleaning her face. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”
Fear strangled her like a home invader. Lelila had to be kidding. Scout was in real danger. She might not ever walk through that door. Got to get out of these cuffs, then I can at least try to escape. Her arms had cramped in the restraints—her legs, too.
“Lel’?”
“Hmm?” Now she cleaned her neck.
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
Lelila’s green eyes caught hers like a cat’s, sly, as if a demon’s. “Piss your bed. That’s what you get for the screamin’ shit. Gotta wash these sheets anyway.”
Scout wept again. “Please, it’ll go up my ass. I beg you, let me out of these handcuffs. My arms are cramped. I promise I won’t try to escape.”
Lelila plopped the rag into the bowl. “There. All better.” She got up, her ass perfectly-shaped, a moon in June.
“Please! I have to go right now!”
Lelila tossed her hair, and she looked over her shoulder. “Nah, you screamed. When you’re ready to be nice, I’ll let you piss.”
“LELILA, DON’T LEAVE ME! DON’T LET ME SHIT MYSELF ON THE BED! I’LL PUKE AGAIN!”
But her frenemy continued up the stairs, then crossed the threshold. She closed and locked the door.
CHAPTER SIX
Scout needed divine intervention. She couldn’t pray with her mouth taped shut, though, so she thought the prayer, hoping to God it would work.
Lord, cruel people have bound me and raped me. Please deliver me from this infernal hell-on-earth. I’m your faithful servant, and false prophets have control over me. They’ve raped me and defiled your disciple. Please, save me. Amen.
The door opened. Scout hoped to hell it was the police with her parents in tow. She strained herself to look.
Mack clomped down the stairs, holding a handgun.
Oh great. Scout didn’t think she could take another vaginal reaming. Just kill me, you bastard. Send me to heaven. I’m ready to die.
He chuckled. “How we holdin’ up?” He walked over to the bed and twirled the weapon by the trigger like a gunslinger. “I trust the accommodations are adequate?” A belly laugh from him.
Lelila stood in the doorway at the top of the stairs; she consumed a bowl of cereal.
How can she eat when she’s committed a felony and could be caught any second?
“Close your eyes and brace yourself.” He grabbed the edge of the tape.
Scout did so, knowing what to expect.
Mack ripped it off even faster than Lelila had. Scout squealed, then fought to catch her breath.
“I asked you a question, girlfriend 2.O.”
Scout spat, “I’m peachy-keen, fine-and-dandy and all around terrific. How the fuck do you think I’m doing?”
Mack laughed in a high-pitch voice. She never thought he’d stop. “I thought we’d get in a little quality time. It’s Saturday and I don’t have to work.” He craned his head to look at Lelila. “Close the goddamn door.”
Lelila scowled and obeyed.
Mack turned back to Scout, a sickening smirk on his face. “Check out my new tattoo.” He held up his right hand, and between his index finger and thumb, a strange, ugly mark made his hand yellow.
Having double vision from lack of food and sleep, Scout couldn’t make out what it was and didn’t really care. “Can I please go to the bathroom and have something to eat? I’m starving.”
“You wanna eat in the bathroom? Wow, you are a freak.”
“No!” She heaved a heavy sigh. “Go to the bathroom first, eat second.”
He nodded. “After I have a go at you.”
Scout hissed. “My mother and father know I went to your place. They’ll be looking for me … and the police. So you’d better turn yourselves in.”
“SHUT YOUR BITCH ASS UP!” His fist cracked across her jaw.
The lights went out.
***
When Scout woke, sweat gleamed all over her as Mack bored her sex out with his huge manhood. Her head knocked against the headboard and the motion made her feel seasick. Being June, it was getting hot, and she hadn’t seen an air conditioner down here. Sweat dripped off her like the shedding of a second skin. The pain of his thrusts made her whimper, a sword stabbed between her legs. She tried to shriek, but he’d replaced the duct tape.
He finally climaxed—leaving her in a sticky situation indeed—the five-minute man from hell. The only problem was he’d decided to give her a facial. She vomited at the end of her obsequious duty, making the bed even more of a mess.
Scout put all her effort into moving her head to the left, using the pillow case to purge herself of the slimy symbiosis, and she dry heaved.
Waving his weapon and smiling an evil grin, Mack stood over her like a rodeo clown. “I guess we’ll let you go to the bathroom now. Lelila has to wash the sheets.”
“Mighty white of your fucking ass,” Scout answered. “My arms went numb hours ago.”
“Aw, quit your bitching.” He reached into his pocket for the key and broke the hold of the left cuff. “Damn, you’re dry as a cave now that you’re broken in. Need some motion lotion.”
Scout’s arm screamed pins and needles, and she thumped it uselessly upon the mattress. The second cuff fell off. She wiggled her arms, trying to get some feeling in them. They were raw meat. He untied her legs.
This is my chance, if I can get some feeling in these arms. One good eye-gouging and kick in the nuts, and I’m pretty sure I can take Lelila, especially after she raped me. I could kill that bitch right about now.
Mack’s demonic smile told all. “Come on.” He slapped her on the ass. “Bathroom’s upstairs.”
The basement door opened and Lelila came downstairs with fresh sheets in a laundry basket. Finally getting some feeling in her arms, Scout rose. She didn’t think she could manage a knee to Lelila’s face—she didn’t train enough and knew she was lazy in addition to being a coward, a real two-time loser—but an insane situation lurked before her. Who knew what would happen when the adrenaline kicked i
n?
Scout clawed Mack’s eyes and drove a knee into his nuts as violently as she could. He doubled-over and dropped the gun. She bolted toward Lelila—Now, before she drops the laundry basket!—and crashed into her, sending her sitting down hard with the sheets covering her face.
This is it! Set a new land/speed record!
If she didn’t run like Dee Gordon now, the abduction would turn into suicide, so she took her chance, leaping up the stairs, taking them three at a time.
Before she knew it, Scout was in the kitchen. She was temporarily blinded by the sun shouting through the garden window. For a few seconds, she had the maddening thought to stop and get something to eat from the fridge, but it didn’t last, and she bolted through the kitchen toward the living room and out the front door. Thinking she was good to go because she didn’t hear the couple advancing on her, she’d practically ripped the door off the hinges …
… and ran into the mailman. He dropped his letters. She got a brief look at a handsome, short-haired blond man filling out the uniform. He gawked, bug-eyed and gaping, at her naked frame. The man was built like a Mack truck, and she had a hard time getting by him.
But why do I want to get by him? Tell him I’ve been abducted!
Yet she didn’t know him. He could be as bad as Mack and Lelila. Plus, the need to escape was stronger, so she gave him a wide berth, side-stepping around the guy, and tore into the front lawn. She blinked hard against the sun and the heat that blasted her.
Out of the corner of her eye, coming at her like a defensive tackle, was either a wide-eyed demon or Mack, who’d bolted out the kitchen door and had come around the side of the house. He was going to run her down, no doubt about it. Her heart sank. The only thing to do was to scream at the mailman that they’d kidnapped her so he could get help.
But Mack was carrying his gun. She saw the bulge in the front of his shirt.
That’s his problem. The man has to be the hero.
“Mailman, help me! They—”
A soft hand came from behind her and clamped over her mouth.
