Page 4 of Mistress Mayhem

As he shoves down his pants, I zone out. They can abuse my body all they want, but that doesn’t mean I need to be present for it.

I like to remember the good times with Charlotte and the guys. We’ve all been friends since childhood, though me and Charlotte are a few years younger. Charlotte’s brother, Austin, is two years older than us. His best friend, Cooper, is three years older, and Fox is only a year older than we are. He lives across the street from my parents’ house and has for as long as I can remember. He was my first friend and when we met Charlotte, Austin, and Cooper, the five of us became inseparable.

Once we hit our teens, I started getting crushes on all three of the guys because they’re hot as hell.

Austin is a total jock, and his body shows it. He’s over six-feet tall with broad shoulders and muscles for days. His tawny brown skin is a shade lighter than his sister’s, but it’s clear they’re related. While he looks like a typical jock, he’s never acted like one. He’s a pretty quiet guy, but he’s also the sweetest. He’d give anyone the shirt off his back if they needed it. He’s honestly an all-American boy.

Cooper is the bad boy of the group—both in appearance and in attitude. His black hair is always just a little too long, hanging in his face. His steely gray eyes always seem to be hiding secrets—never from us but from the rest of the world. His tanned, sinewy body is covered in tattoos, and he has more than a few piercings. He has a barbell through his eyebrow, a hoop through his nose and lip, a tongue piercing—even his dick is pierced. Of course, he also rides a motorcycle.

Fox is a nerdy jock. He’s always been at the top of his class, but he’s also so fucking hot. He’s as tall as Austin, but he’s built like the swimmer he is. His blond hair always looks like he’s been running his hands through it. During the warm months, he always sports a tan, but once the winter months hit, he’s white as white can be. Lately, he’s been trying to grow a beard—it’s not been going well.

I never expected any of them to look at me like that, but Cooper had pulled me aside one night while we were all hanging out and asked me to go on a date with him. Only an idiot would’ve said no, and I’m no idiot. Within the week, we were together and have been for almost two years.

The three of them must be going crazy with both me and Charlotte missing. It’s why I thought they’d have found us by now. They’re all protective of us, and I’m sure they’re blaming themselves for us going missing.

I wish they would find us, and soon. Because I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

When Cary climbs off of me, my eyes follow him as he sneers down at me before heading for the door. As he lifts his key card so he can exit the room, he glances over his shoulder at me. “I think we’ll keep you drugged for the next few days to see if we can’t work out some of that fire you’re clinging to.”

“Whatever,” is my only response.

As soon as the door slides shut, the hissing sound starts up, telling me they’re pumping the room full of Supernova again. They no longer use anything to knock me out. The only time they pump gas into the room is to get me high.

That’s fine. They can get me as high as they want.

It’s not going to change anything. I’ll keep fighting, and I’ll find a way to get me and Charlotte out of here. As much as I’d like to get the other girls out of here, my main concern is me and my best friend. If I can get a few of the others out, then that’s great. But it’s never going to be my main objective.

I close my eyes, inhaling the drugs. It won’t take long for the high to kick in and then I’ll be able to forget about all of it for a bit. But then I’ll be back to planning and plotting.

It’s a few days later when they finally stop pumping my room full of drugs. I can’t be a hundred percent sure how many days have passed, but I know it’s been more than a day.

Cary and the other three monsters have come in repeatedly to beat and rape me, and it’s been enough times that I know it’s been days and not hours.

My body aches, and I know there is a new myriad of bruises gracing my skin—even if I don’t remember getting all of them.

I climb off the bed slowly, moving to the bathroom in the corner. There are no walls around the room, but it does have a toilet, sink, and shower. I don’t really care who can see me using it, as everyone here has already seen me naked. I use the toilet and wash my hands before pulling off the ripped slip of cloth I’m wearing. None of the four men were gentle with it, or me, over the last few days.

Turning the water on, I wait for it to heat up before stepping underneath it. The showerhead is amazing and they only have the best beauty products in here for us. It doesn’t make much sense to me, but what do I know about kidnapping women? I wash and condition my hair, ignoring the pulling at my ribs as I do so. Washing my body is much more painful, but I scrub my skin clean. I need to get their dried cum and my blood washed away so I can see just how badly I’m hurt.

Once I’m done, I dry off with the fluffy towel. I’m happy to see that it’s just mostly new bruises—though there is a cut running from my sternum to my belly button. It doesn’t seem too deep, and it isn’t bleeding after I clean it, so I take that as a win.

Pulling on another negligee, I glance at the girls on either side of me and shake my head as I see them sleeping. Moving to the front of my room, I try to get Charlotte’s attention by waving my hands in the air and banging on the glass, but she doesn’t move from her bed—she doesn’t move at all.

Shit.

Surely, they didn’t kill her, right? Not when their plan is to sell us.

But I can’t be sure, which is why I settle on my bed, never turning away from her room as I plot.

Whenever they’ve left me alone, that’s all I do—at least once I realized no one was coming to save us. I’ve learned what I can by listening to them talk when they think I’m out of it but still don’t have a coherent plan. Sure, I can steal one of the men’s key cards, but I know the whole place is being watched by cameras. There’s no way we’d get very far. My only option is going to be to escape when they move us on Mayhem. But first, I need to let them think they’ve broken me.

It goes against everything inside of me, but if I don’t, Cary has already said he’ll knock me out to transport me. I don’t know how many days we have left until Mayhem, but I know it’s soon. All I can do is hope that they believe that they’ve broken me after the last few days. I probably should’ve been playing along sooner, but I’ve never been one to just roll over and take it. So I fought back—definitely not my smartest decision. But what’s done is done.

I let out a sigh of relief when Charlotte slowly sits up on her bed. She doesn’t even glance in my direction, her eyes going straight to the camera. She says something I can’t hear, and I’m sure she’s asking for more drugs. I don’t think she’s been sober at all in the last two weeks, and I can’t even blame her. The hell we’re going through isn’t for the weak of heart. I wish I could protect her from this, but I know I can’t. When she lays back on the bed, I know they’re pumping her room full of Supernova, but I continue to watch her.

Twenty minutes later, two figures appear. Cary and the man he calls Howard. All four of them are old as fuck—in their forties or fifties. They don’t seem too worried about us knowing who they are, but I just haven’t been able to retain their names well. It’s probably because I’ve been referring to them in my head as asshole one, asshole two, and asshole three.

Howard ducks into Charlotte’s room while Cary pushes into mine. He gives me a malicious smirk as he looks me over from head to toe.

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