Daddy's Pretty Baby

by Cassandra Dee

  “Where were you?” asked Jenny again. “And what happened to your clothes?” she asked, looking askance at me.

  I knew I looked weird, the shorts and t-shirt damp and clinging to my body. But I didn’t care and gave her a beatific smile. My interlude with Holt and Hayden had been incredible and I still couldn’t believe it had happened. Were it not for my pleasantly aching cunny and bottom, I’d almost think it was my imagination.

  But my friend didn’t have to know, so I just shrugged off her question.

  “I went and got changed,” I said carelessly. “It’s laundry day so I just grabbed any old thing.”

  With a sigh, Jenny nodded.

  “Oh and that reminds me, after lunch it’s time for us to be on laundry duty again,” she said, her nose wrinkling up. “I hate how there are chores here, I wish there were a cleaning service like back home.”

  I bit my lip. Jenny and I go to the same college sure, but our backgrounds couldn’t be more different. Whereas I’d grown up working class, Jenny was from a wealthy family and had had loads of help growing up. She told me once that they had two nannies – one for her and one for her brother, an extravagance I’d never imagined.

  So while I was used to laundromats, dragging huge bags of clothes to our local establishment, this was totally new to my friend. She’d had to read the instructions on the back of the bottle of Tide our first week of college, teach herself how to use the washing machine. Which was just as well because laundry duty was a fact of life here in the Kolstya Mountains.

  “No worries,” I said with a sigh. “At least we don’t have to save quarters like we do at school.”

  “Oh yeah, that,” Jenny sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “That’s the only good thing about it. I wanna go home,” she whined.

  And that was another difference between us. While I loved being a translator and adored the kids we worked with, this was strictly business for my friend. If it weren’t for the college credit, there was no way she’d be here when she could be on campus living it up.

  So after finishing lunch, it was with a grunt that we lugged the camp’s laundry into the backroom facility. Man, I had a lot of respect for laundry services now. For the thirty of us here from the United States, it felt like we had a hundred loads to do, all of it caked in dirt, grime, not to mention spatters of blood. Back-breaking work and then some.

  But someone was already there waiting for us there. Oh right, Veronica. She was the other intern here with us from college, and she looked just like her namesake from the Archie comics. Tall, slender, with jet-black hair, she was a striking figure with curves in all the right places and a sneer on her pretty features.

  “Finally,” she snapped, cracking her gum as she glared at us. “Where’ve you been?”

  I felt like a potato next to her, short and fat, plain as a brown paper bag. But Jenny gave back like she got.

  “What do you think?” she shot back. “We’ve been tromping all over the camp ground picking up peoples’ hampers. Where were you?”

  “I figured you guys had it under control,” said Veronica dismissively, examining her long, pink nails. Although we were in a third world country, somehow this girl had managed to maintain a perfect manicure, no chips, no smudges. Plus, it looked like a gel manicure too, one of those glossy jobs where you need a UV lamp.

  But I just shook my head tiredly. I didn’t want to get into catty sniping, we were here to work, and besides, my mind was still whirling with the events of this afternoon. Had it really happened? Had Holt and Hayden really stripped me nude and licked my pussy, letting me ride their dongs, feel those hard rods in a dirty DP? I ran the scene over and over in my head, like it was a dream from a million years ago, my body tingling all over.

  But Jenny and Veronica wouldn’t stop bickering, their voices growing sharp.

  “I hear you were dinged by Beta Tau Phi last semester,” snarked Veronica. “They were looking for a different kind of girl.”

  She was referring to rush week at college. Every year, the sororities on campus take a week to select prospective pledges, called “rushing,” and Jenny had gone through the process. It’d been brutal, my friend obsessing about call-backs, about her outfits, the parties she had to attend each night. Supposedly, there was a hierarchy of sororities and getting into the right one was a big deal.

  But Jenny wasn’t taking this lying down.

  “Oh yeah?” she spat right back. “Were they looking for someone like you, an underweight x-ray with an eating disorder?”

  She must have hit home because Veronica shot daggers at my friend with her eyes, practically frothing at the mouth.

  “You know, body acceptance goes both ways,” she hissed while pouring detergent into a cup. “I can’t help if I’m thin. It’s natural, it’s not my fault you and Summer aren’t genetically blessed.”

  Now that was punching below the belt. That made it sound like we were second class, the discards from some kind of weird eugenics study, trash that no one wanted. My hackles rose and I jumped into the fray.

  “Shut up,” I snapped, “you know nothing about me.”

  And it was true, because Veronica had never bothered to get to know us. Despite being at the camp for a week together, we’d only seen her around here and there. She never bothered to sit at the same table for meals or tried to make conversation during breaks. I had no idea what she was up to, probably fawning over Holt and Hayden in her free time.

  Plus, judging from her snooty attitude, Veronica was from an upper-class background and had never sacrificed. She didn’t know that my mom had sold our Subaru to help pay for college, how I worked at the library front desk for discounted tuition. In fact, I was only on this trip because of a scholarship for deserving students. Most kids who went overseas were from rich families which footed the bill, paying for airfare and the like.

  So her bad attitude really got me. I was here to help others, seize my chance to see the world, and Veronica was ruining it all with her stinging comments, treating me like I was lower class.

  But the woman just wouldn’t back off. Instead, if anything, her comments got worse.

  “Oh yeah?” she sneered. “Is that why you’re always eating crackers in your cabin, Summer? Give it up, stop pretending to be this holier-than-thou vegetarian,” she said. “You’ve been eating candy bars and beef jerky on the sly, everyone sees the empty wrappers.”

  And I stopped in shock. I hadn’t been eating candy bars, I’d always be curvy no matter what I ate. And the beef jerky? Even the thought of it made me puke. Not only was it meat, but it was processed meat, cured with all sorts of weird chemicals and dyes. I’d be the last person to touch that stuff.

  “Shut up!” I screamed now. “Just shut up!”

  I must have looked terrible, my face a mask of rage, my skin mottled and red, probably emitting steam from my ears.

  But Veronica was unfazed. “Why?” she sneered, tapping those long, pink nails together. “Because you’re so scary?” she taunted, and with that, she spat in my face.

  I stood stock still, not believing what had happened. Had another woman really spit in public? On me? On another human being? My mind couldn’t process it at first.

  But unfortunately, the supposedly classy girls are always the worst. Sure, Veronica looked like a million bucks, perfectly blown-out hair with a face full of make-up, but underneath it all she was a ho, the hock of her loogie hitting me on the neck with a warm splat.

  And I couldn’t take it anymore. The words, the assault, her snobby attitude combined for a terrible mix and I launched myself at her, teeth bared, my hands clawing at her face and hair.

  “I hate you!” I shrieked. “I hate you, bitch bitch bitch!”

  I grabbed a chunk of her hair in my hands and yanked hard, looking to do damage, but not before Veronica managed to grab my breast in an iron grip and twist.

  “Owwww!” I wailed even as I pulled her hair again. Now I was kicking as well, trying to land blows
to her shins, her thighs, anywhere my feet could reach.

  But the girl was like a snake, slithering just out of range even while she continued to twist my boob, so hard that I was going to have burn marks afterwards.

  Jenny, meanwhile, launched herself into the fray too, fists punching and kicking at the taller girl, piercing shrieks escaping her lips as she delivered her best ninja chops.

  “You’re … such … a … bitch!” my friend screamed at the top of her lungs. “You’re the one … who got me blackballed … from Beta Tau Phi … weren’t you?” she managed to get out before Veronica drop-kicked her in the stomach.

  And suddenly, we were pulled apart by strong arms, all three of us struggling, screaming, kicking still, our arms flailing, frothing at the mouth. My fingers had pulled out a chunk of black hair, I saw with satisfaction. I hoped that ho had a bald spot now.

  But suddenly, we stopped struggling because the men who’d separated us were strangers. We’d gotten to know everyone at base camp, so who were these people? They definitely weren’t civilians off the street. Dressed in camouflage, they looked more like soldiers, brawny and physically fit as they broke up the catfight.

  And Veronica, ever the opportunist, immediately became all smiles.

  “Hi,” she said breathlessly, “we were just having a little disagreement between girls.”

  I couldn’t contain my snort. A little disagreement? More like World War Three. But Veronica is one of those women who’s Jekyll and Hyde in the presence of attractive men. Now that we were surrounded by athletic, attractive males, she was all sweet, simpering smiles, her limbs going limp, feminine and flirtatious.

  “Oh ignore Summer,” she said, waving a hand in my direction. “We just couldn’t agree on the right amount of detergent for so much laundry. Because you know,” she said, her voice lowered, “we love doing laundry. We’re very domestic that way.”

  This time, Jenny snorted. Veronica was the least domestic person ever, always whining when we were on kitchen duty, laundry duty, any kind of menial task, so it was a lie, pretending she was a happy 50’s housewife. But I just shook my head, saying nothing, because this was just part of her M.O. Besides, who were these people? Were they Veronica’s friends from somewhere?

  But the men gave no indication that they even heard what we were saying.

  “Viete, čo hovoríme práve teraz?” I asked hopefully, trying out my Slovanian on them. My accent was a little different from the local dialect, but understandable still.

  But they gave no indication of even hearing me. Instead, the men sprang into action, wrapping us into sheets so we were immobilized like huge burritos. As an added precaution, they put pillow cases over our heads before sitting us in a corner, propping us against the brick wall.

  “What is this?” squealed Veronica. “My dad is going to have your jobs, you better watch out! What are your names, I’m taking names …”

  And suddenly she was cut off. My guess was that the commandos had stuffed a sock in her mouth, her screeching unbearable.

  Then we heard ungodly thumping sounds plus other unidentifiable noises. What the? By now, I was subdued and even a little afraid. We were captives in our own campsite, and common sense had penetrated the fog of my anger.

  “Shh,” I whispered to Jenny beside me. “Don’t say anything, don’t attract any attention.”

  There was no reply but judging from my friend’s uneven breathing, she was scared now too. The three of us were as still as mummies, listening to the odd thunks and bumps around us.

  The noises finally stopped but still too petrified to move, we remained motionless for what seemed like hours, the churn of the laundry machines droning around us. With a creaking sound, finally the door opened to heavy footsteps.

  “Holy shit!” gasped Mick, our group head. As coordinator, Mick was the nominal leader of the mission. Although he wasn’t a doctor, he handled all logistics, making sure we had visas, vaccinations, supplies, you name it.

  The older man ran in and began untying us immediately, the three of us rolling out of the sheets like Cleopatra appearing from a carpet.

  “What happened to you?” he gasped. “What? Why?”

  “It was them,” sobbed Veronica, pointing at Jenny and me even as she coughed and hacked from the wet sock in her mouth. “Some guys came and saw them fighting and decided to tie us all up.”

  That made no sense whatsoever but I felt for the girl. Snot was running down Veronica’s nose as she cried and gasped, and I could see a big damp spot on her sheets. She’d wet herself in fear, the acrid smell of urine surrounding us.

  I took a deep breath and explained what had happened. “We were doing laundry,” my voice trembled. “It was our turn to be on duty, and suddenly some guys appeared. I think they were Slovanian and they tied us up using these sheets,” I gestured at the piles of bedding around us.

  “Did they hurt you?” asked Mick, his face alarmed. “Are you okay?” He was taking in the scratches on our faces, our arms and legs. But that was the result of our catfight, not any damage the men had done.

  “We’re fine,” I assured him. “Right Jenny? Right Veronica? They didn’t hurt us, not physically at least.”

  And Jenny nodded silently but Veronica seized the chance to wail even louder.

  “I’m not okay!” she moaned piteously, the goo from her nose streaming down her chin now. “I want my mom!”

  And although the brunette looked disgusting at the moment, I didn’t blame her. Three female exchange students had just been bound and gagged while on a volunteer medical mission, heaps of dirty laundry still surrounding us. The question was why?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Summer

  We were in the camp lodge now, all thirty Americans, Veronica, Jenny and I huddled together during the questioning by the adults.

  “What were you doing?”

  “Who were the men?”

  “What were they wearing? Did you try to call for help?”

  The interrogation was endless and we didn’t have answers for most questions. As best we could, we recounted how we’d been doing laundry as part of our chores when the strangers had appeared. No, we’d never seen these men before, and no, they didn’t hurt us.

  I saw Holt and Hayden from afar, sitting in the crowd, their faces impassive. Was it my imagination, or did a flicker of disgust cross Hayden’s face, a faint wrinkling of his brow? I turned away, dismissing the thought as I was pelted with questions again.

  Finally though, the conversation turned to what would happen next.

  “We have to inform the Slovanian police,” said Mick. “We have to report this, this is a serious offense against foreigners on their territory.”

  “Right, but what are we going to say?” asked Amelia plaintively, a bleeding heart liberal. “That three of our girls were trussed up like chickens for no reason? That it was a random attack? You know they’ll deport us if they find out, we won’t be able to finish the mission.”

  Mick’s frown deepened. That was true. Slovania wasn’t the most politically stable country in Eastern Europe, there were reports of rebel fighting in our current province, bloody clashes with the military. If the government found out that the rebels had assaulted us, they’d likely revoke our visas immediately, terminate the mission, leaving the kids with no medical care.

  I frowned as well and spoke up hesitantly.

  “Maybe we could report the assault after the mission concludes?” I suggested slowly. I didn’t want to jeopardize the trip because the surgeons were the only hope for some of the children. “After it’s all done?”

  “I don’t think so,” frowned George, a senior doctor. “We can’t let three teenage girls continue to wander around camp, not after they’ve been attacked.”

  “Well, we weren’t exactly attacked,” I said slowly. “Bundled up and tied up yes, but not attacked. Maybe the three of us could leave first,” I suggested as a compromise. “The group could report the assault after the mission en
ds.”

  That caused everyone to pause before Veronica piped up.

  “No, I want to find out who those guys were,” she whined. “I don’t want to go home.”

  I shot her a withering look. She was being difficult, as usual, but this was no time to be annoying.

  “No,” I said shaking my head. “We should go back first so that the mission can continue. Jenny, Veronica, and I, we’ll go to trauma counseling when we get back on campus, I promise,” I said.

  The doctors and nurses surrounding us nodded. That seemed like a reasonable solution. No one wanted to put us in more danger, and it was safer to pull the plug on our commitment now.

  And that was when the twins finally spoke up.

  “We’ll get them on the first flight to the States,” ground out Holt. “Our dad owns a travel agency, we can fly them home tomorrow.”

  “Or even tonight,” added Hayden darkly. “It’s not too soon.”

  And I looked straight at the twins from across the room, the eye contact electric, a tingle running through me as deep blue gazes met my stare. Oh god. What did this mean for us? Was there even an “us”? Things had happened so quickly that I hadn’t been able to process the events of the afternoon, the sensuous DP blurring with the traumatic events of the laundry room.

  But Mick interrupted again.

  “Alright, that sounds fine,” he said. “Let’s send the girls home now and keep our lips shut about the incident. After we’re done, we’ll report the assault to the authorities.”

  Hearing those words, Hayden’s brow again crinkled with disgust, smoothing just as quickly, like it had never happened. But I knew what I’d seen.

  “Until then,” Mick droned on, his gaze swinging towards us, “you girls get on the plane and don’t say a word to anyone.”

  And I felt a strange twinge in my heart, my gaze meeting the twins’ again. Would we ever meet again? Or was this a one-and-done deal?