by Riley Moreno
Julie was just able to shift her position by inches as his hands left her hips. Then his fingers roughly attached themselves to her nipples, and he was brutal as he twisted them for his pleasure only. She couldn’t stop him. She couldn’t get away.
But she kept fighting.
Julie managed to lift her head. Something about the movement seemed to excite him, and he tore out her gag and tossed it to the side. She could already feel the break in the skin of her lip followed by a small trickle of blood. With no other weapon at her disposal, Julie swallowed and spit into his face. Her aim reached his eyes, and for a second she hoped that it was enough to get him out of her.
But he just wiped her saliva away and flung the it back in her furious, trembling face.
Julie started to slip back to the floor, but then she realized that she could speak.
“Get off of me! You fucking pig! Leave me alone!”
Her words only served to further stimulate the animal. He gripped her face and pressed it back into the floor. Julie was completely paralyzed as his fingers tangled with her hair, and he slightly lifted her head only to slam it down again and again. Dazed, Julie could do nothing but stare up as he went back to playing with her breasts.
No. This wasn’t happening.
Julie closed her eyes and wished for it to just end. Her mind drifted to Kim. What was happening to her? Was she this scared? It suddenly didn’t matter. Julie forgot everything and everyone else as the man ripped into her. He moved with the feel of a scalding knife that poked at her insides. She knew nothing but the most painful fire as he forced his tongue into her bleeding, unwilling mouth. Every part of her was violated as he pumped his awfulness under her skin, and Julie somehow twisted her head away with a sob as he grunted into her stomach and spread his fingers across her back.
It was over, but it wasn’t. The man stayed inside her and kept groaning even as she felt his hold weakening. Not that it mattered. Julie felt destroyed by his unwelcome entry, and she went numb as his hands continued to run over the surface of her skin. By now she was crying uncontrollably.
The animal finally left her but not before driving his tongue into her mouth again. When their lips separated, he smiled at her. Julie tried to close her eyes again, but he grabbed her face and made her look at him.
“Nice,” he said. “I’ll be back in a few weeks.”
He said nothing else. Why would he? Julie was nothing more than a depository for his abhorrent seed. In spite of her outrage and her sorrow, she silently prayed that there wouldn’t be an unwanted baby in the wake of this horrible night.
The man finally stood and dressed. He winked at her as he left the room leaving her ravaged and bleeding and still weeping from his assault. Julie tried to calm her breathing, and she resumed the struggle against her bonds. If she could just get up, she could find Kim and the way out. That had to be the worst of it. What else…?
Her thoughts stopped as Pete entered the room.
He wore only a pair of gray briefs and smoked a cigarette as he stared down at her.
“You asshole,” she screamed. “You’ll pay for this. You’ll---”
Pete hit her. Hard. Julie’s head fell to her side, and before she knew what was happening, Pete stripped and assumed the first man’s position. He reached for her hair and tore to the roots as he drove his body into hers. Pete’s attack was quicker. It was as if he was frustrated at having to wait for her deflowering, and he didn’t want to waste any more time staking his claim. Julie tried to dislodge his point of attack with her trembling hips. It didn’t work, and she could do nothing but look for escape. Her eyes moved from the floor to the wall, and she caught a small sliver of moonlight peeking through a high window. If she could just get there, she could get out into the night. It seemed so close, but she was unable to move as he hurt her harder than the first man, and Pete finished with another pull at her hair and a quick slap across her face. Julie’s tears kept falling as he stood and returned his briefs to his body. Then he stamped out his cigarette on the base of her throat. Julie screamed wildly. When the butt left her skin, she was still in pain, but there was enough of a release for her to sigh as he opened the door. Pete flicked some ash towards bound feet.
“I’ll keep ‘em coming, Jules. You were worth the risk.”
And then he was gone. Julie recovered enough to where she was able to think of freeing herself again. She twisted and turned, and for a second she thought she felt the latch start to give when there was another man, one that she had yet to see, one with slicked back hair and a look of fiendish determination in his hazel eyes.
“No. No please!”
Would this ever end?
9
Ethan was told to pack a bag. Nothing major. Business casual for dinner at some country club, and the next morning they would hit the links.
“If we can still stand!” Geoffrey said before Victoria and Melissa returned to bid him goodnight.
“It was so nice to meet you, Ethan,” Victoria said as she kissed his cheek. Ethan laughed and awkwardly patted her arm.
“Mom, you’re embarrassing him.”
Melissa shook his hand again, and Geoffrey gave him a wink as Carter showed him to the door.
“Not bad,” Carter said.
“What do you mean?”
“I always play it sweet around them, too. And hey, what they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em, right?”
Ethan gave him a slight nod.
“So see you tomorrow?”
“Uh… guess so.”
“Awesome!”
Carter slapped his back as Ethan turned to the sound of a closing door. He made his way to the elevator, moved down between the floors, and then started through the lobby. This time around, he felt that everyone was looking at him with some kind of knowledge pertaining to Geoffrey’s intentions for the next day. It was as if they were already judging for him for something that even Ethan wasn’t entirely clear on. Sure he got the gist of it. After dinner and drinks they’d get dessert, and that was code for ladies of a different class than Mrs. And Miss Troxel. He envisioned a strip club or a whorehouse of something else entirely out of his comfort zone, and he wished that he had started down a different road with Carter or at least swerved at the sight of the first exit upon meeting Geoffrey. Now there was no turning back, and as Ethan hailed a cab and asked to go home, he started to panic.
He couldn’t do this. It wasn’t as if he had never been with a woman, but it had been a long time. He had his lonely moments, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to sit in a smoky room while scantily clad girls with too much make-up and daddy issues promised he could have it any way he wanted it. It wasn’t his style, far from his speed, and he couldn’t fight the feeling that even if the services were bought and paid for, it was too close to forcing someone to do something that was not entirely their choice.
No turning back. Maybe he could just get by with watching. Maybe he could get really drunk at dinner and feign an illness. Right. Pretending a headache would really make him seem like a man in their eyes. Ethan sighed and watched the lights of the city pass him by. How bad could it be? It was just one night. After the taxi reached his building and he paid the fare, he climbed the stoop and lingered for a moment before Nick’s door. What would he do with Geoffrey Troxel’s invitation? Probably give up a limb or two to go in Ethan’s place. Was there a way to swing that? No way. He moved on without knocking and slumped down on his couch. He loosened his tie and glanced at the clock.
12:47.
Despite the intake of alcohol, he was getting no sleep tonight. At least it was something familiar.
He clicked through the channels and settled on a marathon of one of the Law & Order shows. An episode detailing the hunt for hookers murdered by a religious nut did nothing to help his mood, and he flipped to the early morning local news. How did the anchors look so good when the sun was barely up? Ethan had missed his calling. He should be one of those that reported the news at first light. He was always awake for
it.
He left the set on as he showered, made an enormous pot of coffee, and packed the little that he would need for the weekend. As he shoved his toothbrush into the suitcase, he was suddenly seized by another thought. What if this was a set-up? What if Carter and Geoffrey were secret serial killers in wolves clothing that sized him up only to torture him slowly far from home and dispose of the evidence where no one would ever find it? Was that a plot from one of the episodes that he hadn’t turned away from? No. His imagination was just in overdrive. That was too crazy.
Mason shrieked from above, and Ethan paced the floor of his apartment. Carter and Geoffrey said they wanted to get an early start. In their world, early meant 11, and Ethan kept drinking coffee and watched what felt like an unending episode of SportsCenter as he kept his eye of the clock. Couldn’t they just show up already so they could get this over with? He tried to focus on the safe bets for the day’s ballgames. He was curious to see if the Mets could keep up their losing streak, and he considered ignoring his phone and the inevitable knock on his door with a muted TV and held breath until Carter and Geoffrey considered him a lost cause and just went on without him. It might work. He could hide until they were out of state and only then would he venture outside and grab a couple sandwiches. And maybe a bottle of tequila. He’d need something strong to try to sleep off the guilt and the shame, and he’d spend Sunday hungover and trying to come up with excuses for where he had been and why he had missed the guys. What would fly? He’d hooked up with some sweet number after their dinner and lost track of time? Or she’d done such a number on him that he plain forgot the plan of action? An excuse like that would help him save face, but what if they invited him again the next weekend and the next and the next? There was no way that he could avoid them and their preferred playground forever.
He was out of time when the knock came. Carter or Geoffrey, which one didn’t really matter, banged against his door. Ethan’s TV was at full volume, and there was no concealing his presence. He sent SportsCenter into oblivion and trudged towards his door. He slowly strained his eye through the peephole.
Carter.
Ethan undid the latch and tried to smile at the boy. In addition to everything else, he suddenly felt ashamed of his home. It wasn’t the Troxels’ place, and Ethan figured that Carter had to have his own similarly swanky set-up just waiting to see Melissa over the threshold. For a second, he imagined being devious. He would turn Carter down and threaten to tell the Troxel women all if Carter didn’t just leave him alone. But in the long run, that would only hurt Arcadia and, by association, Ethan. He was trapped, and he simply shook Carter’s hand and picked up his bag on his way to the slaughter. When they passed Nick’s door, Ethan longed for it to open. First time for everything. If Nick would just appear, Ethan would lie that he was the reason for having to stay in the city. Nick was his friend, right? Sorta kinda? Where was Nick? Probably occupied with the blonde with the. His absence irked him more than his presence ever had, and Ethan had no choice but to enter Geoffrey Troxel’s town car and see where the weekend would lead.
“Ethan, this is going to be a blast!”
Geoffrey Troxel was already into a bottle of champagne, and he handed his travelling companions two glasses as the car sped off.
“A toast,” Geoffrey commanded.
Carter raised his glass, and Ethan followed his lead.
“To bachelors!” he said as he downed his glass in one gulp.
“At least until Sunday dinner,” Carter said as he drank deep.
Ethan sipped his glass, and his mind drifted to the ladies they’d left waiting. Did they know? They had to have suspicions. Did they know and just not care? It was a possibility. When he reflected on the penthouse and all the perks that the guys’ combined fortune could provide, it almost made a kind of sense. They’d put up with it for a taste of the finer things so long as their boys took their circus out of town. This, the trip, had nothing to do with how much they all loved each other. Ethan could hang onto that. He could view the next 36, 48 hours, whatever as some kind of a fever dream, and he would wake up on the other side having just played along with the fantasy, and then he would wash it all away with another shower when he finally made his way back home.
It’ll be okay, Ethan.
“To… possibilities,” he said.
It was both vague and dirty enough to send Geoffrey’s hand slapping against his knee, and Ethan found the confidence to ask a few questions as the liquor flowed and the car hit the highway.
“So… what’s the plan?” he asked.
Geoffrey opened another bottle and refilled Ethan’s glass.
“What’s your pleasure?” Geoffrey shot back.
At home with the Mets, but Geoffrey didn’t need to know than.
“Some… sweet young thing.”
It sounded idiotic the second it came out of his mouth, but Geoffrey was already getting drunk, and he tousled Ethan’s hair.
“Then you’re in luck, boy. They’re young and limber and---”
“And totally tied up!” Carter cut in.
Okay. So definitely a whorehouse. Ethan had to drink again at the thought of BDSM stuff that he’d never tried and hated for so many reasons. But that was different. That was truly forced. This was just going to be a game with willing participants. He’d oblige and get through it.
“Cool,” Ethan said lamely. “So you guys have done this kind of thing before?”
Carter and Geoffrey burst into laughter.
“Like every chance we get,” Carter said.
“And they’re bringing the redhead this time.”
“I gotta get a piece.”
Ethan imagined auburn locks above a familiar smile that might actually be glad for the repeat customers, and he wondered if he’d have to take a turn. The thought of all of them sharing one girl was weird, but there’d have to be others from which to choose.
He hated even thinking that.
They stopped for lunch at a greasy spoon. A fat lady with a necklace that had to limit her ability to walk showed them to a table at the back and brought them water with lemons without a specific request. Carter and Geoffrey consumed huge plates of burgers and fries in an effort to sober up some. Ethan just drank coffee and picked at a chicken salad sandwich. He noticed a strange looking man a few tables away with bulging eyes and a huge fro. When he met Ethan’s eyes, he looked as if he wanted to say something important, and Ethan tried to solve the puzzle. He lost his chance when Geoffrey called for the check and the stranger rushed out of the diner before Ethan could make further contact.
“Time to keep moving, boys.”
And then they were back in the car. They drove for another hour, and Geoffrey actually asked Carter if Melissa had shown him her intended flower arrangements. Donna could show them a thing or twelve on that front and…
What was happening?
In one breath they talked about getting their rocks off with purchased girls, and in the next it was who sits at Aunt Irene’s table with her impossibly bad breath and cruddy fingernails. Ethan needed to latch onto anything else, but all he could find was the very real chance that he would be invited to the wedding. He’d have to sit silently as Carter promised total fidelity and watch Geoffrey Troxel spin his little girl around the dance floor even as he remembered a redhead in what would have to be leather and the next chance he’d get to have some weekend fun. Ethan struggled to laugh with the others as the car turned towards an incline in the road.
They pulled up a long stretch of hill and passed condos. Visitors could only imagine what it was like to live day in and day out on greens with golf carts endlessly rolling by. Ethan had to wonder if the permanent residents made use of the local wares, and when he saw an perfectly coiffed middle-aged couple strolling along a sidewalk, the male tan with gray hair, his companion too blonde and her skin too tight for her years, he shook the thought away and decided that the people a few towns over from a place called Eatonsburg had no idea what took
place behind every closed door. They were probably better off being ignorant of the total truth.
“Here we are!”
Carter was out first, and he ordered a valet in an ill-fitting uniform to deposit their luggage in the assigned rooms as Geoffrey ushered Ethan inside.
“Get up, get dressed, and get back. Got it?”
“Sure, Geoff.”
He patted Ethan’s shoulder as the trio ascended the staircase. Ethan was relieved to get away from them, and he fell into the bathroom. The water was like ice as he splashed it against his face. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and didn’t recognize what he was or what he was about to do. But now he was too far from home to do anything but pull his body into a suit, wind a tie around his neck, and go once more into the breach. Ethan was far from home, and he didn’t even know the driver’s name.
He met them at the foot of the steps. Both men reeked of aftershave, and Geoffrey took hold of his arm.
“I could do with some grub first. You?”
Ethan nodded.
He saw mahogany pillars stretching up out of dark rugs, and he caught sight of a wedding party in a private room. There were girls in bright blue dresses with one strap of flowers over their left arms. They popped tiny grilled cheese sandwiches into their mouths of lined lips and laughed over beers as a joyous bride shared in the joke and searched for her new husband’s hand. He appeared in glasses, with a goatee, and he kissed the top of her head as he stroked her shoulders. When their eyes met, there was nothing but love. Another couple who didn’t know why they were here. Better for them; worse for Ethan.
They were shown to a table overlooking the eighteenth hole, and Geoffrey asked about Ethan’s game as drinks were served.
“What do you mean?”
He wasn’t able to stop the crack in his voice, and he felt certain that Geoffrey would leave him to his room until he and Carter had their fun. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad and…
“Your handicap, guy. Know your way around the holes?”
Back to just golf. Good. And bad. Ethan had graduated to scotch, and he polished off the drink. It stung his throat as he told another lie.