by Rob Mclean
Was she referring to his behaviour at the office Christmas party years ago? John wondered. Admittedly he was younger and dumber back then, more like Kent this evening, but that was a long time ago.
“So you’ll cover my cab fare then?” John asked.
“Just give the receipt to Samuel,” Eloise replied, “although I’d recommend the rooms.” She patted Kent on his shoulder as she moved on to the next group, “but we’re not covering the clean-up fee.”
Everyone laughed, but when she was far enough away, the laughter quickly died.
“Let’s grab a table,” John suggested.
“Good thinking boss,” Kent agreed with a wave of his glass. “Serious drinking needs sitting down.”
“What planet you think she comes from?” Marcus asked once they found their seats.
“One full of management clones?” Grace suggested.
“I’d still do her,” Kent nodded with a smarmy smile.
“Anything with a pulse, from what I’ve heard,” said Mikaela grinning.
“And more besides,” Kent raised his glass and downed the little beer left. He then stared at the empty glass in disbelief and went off in search of a refill. Mikaela followed.
John watched her catch him up. She slid her arm around his waist in a girly friendly way, but John had no doubts how their night would end. If only it were that easy with Angela…
“So now we know why he had a sex-doll,” Grace said.
“Zeke, you mean?”
“Yeah, and here I was thinking he was just a deviant sex fiend…” Grace palmed her forehead.
“How could you be thinking such a thing about a fine upstanding young man?” Marcus beamed at his own humour.
“Beats me,” John smiled. He had finished his first beer and was onto his second.
“Maybe they’ll get a DNA sample from it?” Marcus asked.
“Ewww, I don’t want to go there,” Grace pulled a face of mock disgust, but ended up laughing.
The night then settled into a much more pleasant evening than John had anticipated. Whether it was because of the drinks or the relaxed mood of his work-friends, or because the stresses of the last few weeks were now behind him, he didn’t know – or care. He was mildly amazed to find that over an hour had passed without thinking of Angela or checking his phone. Was that a good thing? Was he, like his family had said, better off without her? But just thinking about her again made him aware of the dull ache in his chest. Amid the chatter, laughter and banter, he wanted to reach for his phone and call her.
Forget her, he told himself. At least for tonight, he haggled with his yearning heart. I can worry about her tomorrow.
A diverse variety of people came and went throughout the evening, either visiting briefly or sitting for a while and sharing a drink or two. Busily networking and re-establishing connections, their conversations were superficial and banal. Safe topics, like sport or the weather were preferred, closely followed by work related gripes or gossip. Nobody wanted to talk politics or religion tonight, it seemed, unless it was to endorse their support for the New World Order and to express yet again their anguish over the death of the envoy. John just listened and agreed with whatever they said. He felt it safer that way. In the current atmosphere and especially in the present company, he felt it might be unwise to say anything that could be used against him later. He dared not voice any of the fears he held for Angela and her family, at least not in his current pleasantly inebriated state.
Eloise reappeared, making her way around the room. “Just checking up on all my valued employees,” she said, and maybe she was just doing that, making sure everyone was not doing something that might get the company in trouble with any lawyers. She certainly hadn’t given John any cause to think otherwise. Thankfully, she had treated him with the same cold indifference as everyone else.
A Scotch and Coke somehow appeared in front of John. “How’d this get here?” he asked. He definitely couldn’t remember asking for it.
“You favourite, isn’t it boss?” Marcus asked. “I got it for ya.” He raised his own drink.
“Yeah, here’s to you Johnny. A most mellow drunk.” Grace was looking fairly relaxed herself. Her hair was starting to unravel and her words were slurring as she added, “and a pretty all right boss too.”
“I’ll take that as a positive,” he grinned.
Another scotch appeared and this time Eloise added her endorsement as they toasted Grace. ‘If only all staff meetings were so chummy,’ thought John.
“Guess it’s my turn to get a round,” John said as he struggled to his feet. He thought he had been counting his drinks, but he felt far more gone now as he precariously wobbled, trying to stand, than when he was safely sitting.
He turned and lurched towards the bar. It vaguely worried him that he felt as drunk as he did. He was pretty certain he shouldn’t be this bad, maybe just out of practice, he grinned.
“Are you okay, boss?” Grace asked.
“Call you a cab, boss?” Marcus laughed.
John waved down their jibes and continued his teetering stagger towards the bar. At the back of his mind, a small persistent voice told him something was wrong. He shouldn’t be feeling so drunk… Maybe some water would help?
“Gotta pee,” he announced to anyone who cared to listen. Mid-stride he changed course to go to the toilets and bumped into a cluster of people,
“Sorry,” he mumbled as he staggered on. He careened and bumbled his way to the toilets amid jostles and curses.
In the quietness of the toilets, his head buzzed, a residual echo of the bustle outside. He leaned heavily against the wall. The effort to get this far had drained him of almost all his strength and will power.
“Are you okay?”
John was mildly horrified to see the owner of the voice was Samuel.
“I’m okay,” John felt his head kept spinning after he had turned back to finish his job. “Just gimme a minute…”
“Had too much, have we?” the prim P.A. asked, admonishment in his tone.
“Just… go away.” John waved the annoying little man away. After he had finished, he saw Samuel was still hovering nearby.
“Here, have some water,” Samuel said, “you need sobering up.” He offered John a bottle of water.
John eyed the bottle of water suspiciously. ‘What’s he doing following me into the toilets with a bottle of water?’ He accepted the bottle and as he cracked the plastic seal he figured that the P.A. was just following Eloise’s orders, making sure the employees didn’t do anything that might cause the company embarrassment, or liability.
“Tastes funny,” John slurred.
“It’s glacial mineral water,” Samuel tut-tutted. “You’re probably not used to it. It’s very good for you, full of trace minerals and very expensive…”
Samuel rattled on about the mineral water, but his voice receded into a droning monotone patter buzzing around inside John’s head.
He was suddenly aware of an arm around his shoulders and a supporting hand under his armpit.
“My God you’re heavy,” a male voice said.
John felt himself being turned around. “What?” was all John could manage to say.
“Get off me…” John tried to say, but pressure against the back of his knees told him he was being eased into a chair.
“You should sit down before you fall down.”
Sounded reasonable to John, but where did the chair come from?
“You just let me know if you’re going to be sick, okay?” Samuel said in John’s ear.
‘Not likely,’ thought John, but then the world lurched and left his stomach behind. He opened his eyes and saw the room sliding past. A surreal, virtual reality-like journey out of the restroom and into the marbled corridor.
“What the…” John tried to stand, but his arms were so heavy and his legs refused to move.
“Just close your eyes and relax,” Samuel patted him reassuringly on the back.
�
�Maybe I’ve been drugged,’ the languid thought drifted away before he could catch it as the darkness closed around. He surrendered his consciousness to the alluring call of sleep.
Moments later, a jolt and a splash of cold air roused him from the sanctuary of slumber.
“Careful,” hissed Eloise.
“You could’ve held the door,” Samuel replied in terse tones.
“What the hell’s going on?” John tried to say, but his voice wouldn’t work and all that came out was a garbled mumble.
“Shit! He’s waking up,” Samuel’s voice rose an octave with worry.
“No, he’s fine,” Eloise reassured. “Give him some more.”
John felt his mouth fill with the same bitter water. A hand held over his mouth ensured he had to swallow.
“How do you know how much to give him?” Samuel asked.
“I don’t,” was the cool reply.
‘They’ve drugged me,’ the realization crept into John’s mind, followed by the question, ‘but why?’
John took in his new surroundings as they moved past. A dark alleyway, harsh spot lighting and equally deep shadows, skip bins and parked cars before he lapsed back into sleep.
The next time he was roused from blissful unconsciousness the world was spinning out of control.
His eyes opened to reveal an upside down room. He was floating between a hospital bed and a wheelchair.
“Get his head,” Eloise said. He felt her hands around his feet. They stopped the spinning and guided his free floating body onto the bed.
John groaned. He was dimly aware of the cold crinkle of plastic sheets underneath him.
“Is he waking?” Samuel squeaked.
“No,” Eloise said as she lifted John’s arm up to the corner of the bed and tied it firmly. “He’s just having a really weird dream.”
‘A dream?’ John thought as he drifted off again, ‘maybe that’s it.’ But then he felt his trousers being removed.
“God, he’s heavy,” Samuel groaned. John felt his pants being roughly pulled under his pelvis with short tugs.
“Hey,” John said, panic flooding his mind, temporarily banishing the effects of the drug.
Samuel jumped back with a little squeak of shock. John tried to reach for his pants, but found his hands couldn’t move.
“Get his feet,” Eloise barked.
“What the…” John felt his legs pulled apart. His ankles were held down and he watched helplessly as Eloise and Samuel bound them to the bedframe.
John roared and strained against his bindings. The bed shook and rattled. Samuel whimpered, but soon John’s strength faded.
“There, there,” Eloise soothed. She ran her hands over his body, up his bare legs, circling around his abdomen and back down his other thigh. “Just relax. It’ll all be over soon. We don’t want you getting all excited, that would never do.”
Her voice, reassuring and sweet, weaved a spell of slumber into his mind. John fought to stay awake, but the crush of sleep was relentless. His eyes closed under the avalanche of sleep.
A dull, blunt violation forced him awake.
“Wha…” John’s eyes fluttered open. Samuel was at the foot of the bed. He had just pushed something inside him. He felt the intrusion swollen inside his rectum.
“There now,” Eloise silky voice rasped, “did you feel that? Was it good for you?”
John felt a growing tingling sensation emerge from deep within his pelvis. He had been tazered before in training and he recognized the sensation.
“Is it okay to touch you?” Eloise asked in a mocking voice.
John wanted to scream out, but his voice wouldn’t come.
Her fingernails played lightly over his manhood.
“Oh it’s working,” Samuel said excitedly.
“More,” Eloise said. “Give him more.”
John then felt the electric current’s grip tighten slightly. Tension built and despite all his efforts he found his genitals had betrayed him.
“Good,” Eloise smirked. “You can go now, Sammy.”
“You sure it’s safe?”
“He’s all safely secured,” John heard the gloating in her voice. “You can play with him later.”
“Are you sure he won’t remember anything?”
“No, he might. But it could all just be an incredible dream,” she said as if she didn’t care, while she fondled her prize. “But he won’t be able to prove a thing. It’ll be his word against mine. Besides who ever heard of a woman raping a man?”
“Not like this,” Samuel agreed. “I wouldn’t have thought it was possible.”
“How else do you think they get semen samples from gorillas or rhinos?” she laughed. “Go now, I’ll call you when I’m finished.”
“Okay, I’ll be in the van.”
John heard the door close. His heart hammered in his ears as he watched Eloise hitched up her dress. She mounted him with a huge grin on her face.
John groaned and shut his eyes. He didn’t want this. He wanted to escape and sleep was his only option.
“Wake up!” Eloise slapped him hard, the pain forcing his return to consciousness.
“You should know by now, I always get what I want,” she said as she guided him inside her. “You should have taken up my offer while you had the chance.”
John groaned as she rocked back and forth on top of him. Unable to move, he could only watch as she ground herself against him.
She moaned and bit her lip. She rocked faster and faster, lifting her hips and putting more of her weight on her arms. Her panting breath was hot and moist in his ear.
Suddenly she sat up straight, dragging her fingernails down his chest, gouging furrows and drawing blood. The pain compelled his attention.
Unable to control himself, he couldn’t help but give her what she wanted. She arched herself backwards, impaling herself as far as she could upon him. He felt himself deeper than he thought possible.
Then, without any word of warning, she lifted herself up. As he watched her dismount, he felt the oblivion of sleep call to him. Like a whirlpool swirling down a drain, his consciousness faded.
One thought floated out as his mind shut down. A bubble, bobbing above the vortex of sleep, he wondered, ‘is what the aliens had done to the people who claimed to have been abducted and anally probed? Had they been collecting human samples?’
Just before he surrendered to sleep, he thought, ‘I really must ask Jarred about it.’