𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣
⊱ ─────────── ⊰

I wake up in a warm room. I'm sweating and confused.

"Where am I?" I ask myself, rising from the mattress.

Only, I don't go far.

I'm chained to something, it appears. But what?

I use my left hand to pull the blankets from my body and see that I'm handcuffed.

Not this.

As an instinct, I try to see if I can squeeze my small wrist through. No such luck.

Then, I struggle a bit, try to twist and wiggle my way out. Nope.

Fatigued, I take a deep breath.

"HELL-O!" I shout.

"Can anyone hear me?" I call out.

"It's really hot in here! Does the AC work?"

Surely I know that if I call, someone will come. This doesn't seem like some underground bunker. I'm sure someone's around.

I run the risk of welcoming in my captor, but I've been a damsel in distress before.

A man rises from a seat in the far corner of the dimly lit room.

He's as big as an ogre, and probably as dumb, too.

"Who are you?" I ask him.

"The man of your dreams." He cackles, stalking towards the bed.

I blink slowly.

"Alright, are you gonna tell me what you want?" I ask, stale.

"You don't seem very scared?" He's confused.

I shrug. "You don't seem good at your job."

He laughs, looking down at me.

"Boss," he calls. "Get in here."

"Darling." A southern voice appears by the door after it opens.

"You're awake!" He enthuses, inching closer.

Finally, I put a face to a voice. Just as I suspected: Tate Slaughter.

"And hot." I mumble under my breath.

He laughs, amused. "I'm glad you're cool about this."

"Well, I'm not cool, that's kind of what I just said."

He laughs again. "I see why Chris kept you around."

"Speaking of, can you uncuff me before he comes? This is a minor inconvenience."

Tate digs his knee into the bed, kneeling before me.

He tilts his head. "Now why would I do that and spoil all the fun?"

"It will be fun when he beats your ass."

"I doubt that." Tate winks.

He traces his fingers over my exposed legs, mouth agape.

I flinch, making Tate pull away.

"Just let me go, alright?" I deadpan.

"You think it's that easy?"

"Well, I hoped so." I roll my eyes.

Tate chuckles, sitting at my feet.

"Do you have seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars for me?" Asks Tate, staring at my breasts.

He accepts my hesitation as an answer: no.

"Didn't think so, Arizona." He laughs in my face.

"Uncuff me, Tate. What do you really want?"

"Let's see: first I want your boyfriend dead. Then, I want to take all of your money. Then, you."

"You'll never have me."

"We'll see about that tomorrow night." He chortles.

I punch him in the nose.

"You bitch!" He screams, raising his fist to me.

I don't even flinch, waiting for him to do it because it'll taste even sweeter when Chris and Jabari get a hold of him.

"Now, now, son..." a husky voice stops Tate from assaulting me.

"We can't damage the goods. I thought I told you not to ever harm a woman, especially not one as delicate as Darling here." The older man lightly chuckles as he steps into the light.

It's Raymond Slaughter, Tate's father.

"Morgan, has he laid a finger on you? I do apologize on his behalf. My son's never been good at dealing with rejection."

"Well as a matter of fact, he has me handcuffed. So if you could be a doll and let me go, I'll just be on my way..." I charm the father.

"Of course." Raymond obliges more easily than I expected.

"Hmph!" I huff at Tate who's still holding his nose.

"Tate, the key." He asks.

"But, sir, she—"

"Aht ahht," he hisses, hand out in anticipation.

"Thank you." Raymond says once he receives the key to set me free.

I don't hesitate to book it for the door the very second I'm uncuffed.

In nothing but a bra and pair of boy shorts underwear, I make my escape.

I open the door and run... straight into the bodyguard's chest. He's the ogre from before, grabbing me by the shoulders.

"Where do you think you're going?" He taunts me, lifting me off the ground.

I flail in his arms. "LET GO OF ME!"

"What is this?!" I yell at Mr.Slaughter.

He scratches his head. "Well, I said I'd let you out of the handcuffs, not go home."

"So let me go home." I argue.

He laughs richly. "Well no. But I appreciate you asking."

"Chris is going to come and he's going to burn this shit down."

"He has to find us first." Raymond dares, smirking.

"He will," I promise them. "and you're all going to die."

"You sound like you've been through this before..."

"Maybe once or twice."

"Well, third time's the charm." Raymond voices, sparking laughter from Tate and the Ogre.

"What do you want me to do with her, boss?" Asks the large brute who's manhandling me.

I punch him and elbow his neck, hoping it'll do something but he's impenetrable. Fucking steroids.

Raymond's hand gesture tells the Ogre to let me go.

Once back on my feet, I carefully plan out my next move.

"This is where you'll be staying, Darling," Raymond tells me.

"In my room." Tate comments, smirking at me.

Ick. I cringe.

"Staying?" I make sure I heard that correctly, surely I didn't.

Raymond nods.

He begins to show me around but I'm not listening.

"Fuck, is it still bleeding?" Tate asks, holding his head back.

"Marco, handle that. You know I don't do blood." Raymond, disgusted, snaps his fingers.

"Let me see." Marco, AKA The Ogre, walks over to Tate.

While The Ogre tends to a whining Tate, I make a run for it.

"Get her, you idiot!" Raymond yells after me.

I dart straight down the hall, not stopping or slowing down.

I have no idea where I'm going, only fueled by the motivation of freedom.

"And DON'T HURT HER!" He screams out.

My heart thumps, growing louder than my inner thoughts.

The need to get out of here trumps my fear.

I have no idea where I'm going, it's like a maze. Every turn I make takes me back to the precious corridor.
This can't be a house, more like some underground tunnel.

Coming to a dead end, I have to make a choice of right or left. I choose left.

I hurry down the stairs and find a door.

Figuring there must be a way out on the other side, I push it open.

I stumble down into a room, falling to the hard ground.

My eyes must be deceiving me.

"Jasmine?" I query, head tilted as I try to make out what I'm seeing despite the compromised angle.

"Got ya!" Marco's voice suddenly appears in my ear.

Before I can move, he captures me.

Both arms behind my back, I can't put up much of a fight.

I can only squirm, but it's no use.

He takes a rag and smothers my nose in it.

Before I know it—

I'm awaken with a heavy downpour of freezing cold water.

I gasp, jumping up.

Where am I?

I look at my surroundings, it's Tate's bedroom again.

Laughter angers and confuses me.

It's Jake, one of Tate's henchmen.

He poses before the bed with a pocket in his hands.

"Rise and shine, Darling." He sneers.

I blink my eyes open and get a good look at him.

"It's a shame Ben couldn't do the job," Jake says. "he wasn't man enough. I am."

"Jake," my teeth chatter. "if you come n-near me."

"You'll what?" He challenges me.

I try to move, to fight, but I'm fully restrained. My arms and feet are tied.

I fill with fear but try hard not to let it show.

"Relax," he cackles manically, just centimeters from my lips. "I'm not going to touch you. I can't."

Relief.

"After tomorrow night, you're Tate's girl. Then, after he's done with you, we can play." Jake reveals, crawling off of the bed.

The door opens and in walks Tate.

He's in nothing but a pair of briefs, with an open bottle of imported Chardonnay.

"Jake..." Tate calls his name with a warning tone.

Jake blows a kiss at me and then gets off of the bed, exposing himself.

I start to feel sick, wondering if he had his way with my while I was unconscious.

"Dude, did you—" Tate assumes the same.

Jake addresses himself and submits to Tate.

"No," he swears, "I only jacked it to her while she was asleep."

Tate nods his head, accepting that truth.

I'm disgusted.

"You got the stuff?" Tate asks Jake.

Jake fixes a grin from ear to ear. "Here."

He hands over a little plastic baggie full of a white powder.

"Alright, bring in the girls in five minutes and get outta here," Tate gives instructions which Jake follows.

"Would you like some?" Tate thinks he's being a gentleman by asking if I'd like to do cocaine with him.

"No, thanks, I had a few lines for breakfast." I state plainly.

Tate finds me amusing, laughing earnestly, as he sits on a couch parallel to the queen-sized bed.

"You're good, Morgan," he says. "I like you."

"Thanks, I'm here all week." I monotone, trying to wiggle my way out of the restraints.

"They get tighter as you struggle, Darling." He lets me know.

I immediately stop moving.

"Why'd he call you that anyway?" Asks Tate.

"What are we, bonding?" I vibrate my lips.

Tate snorts a line and then exclaims.

"Goddamn that's good! Sure you don't want none, Darling?"

"Maybe later." I lie through my teeth.

Teeth comes and sits beside me on the bed.

"Really, how'd you get that name? Is it 'cause you're so darling?"

I roll my eyes. "Honestly, I don't know."

"Malcolm wasn't a good man to you, I know that, but I would be. I'd treat you right, take my time..."

"The problem is I don't want you, Tate."

"You'll change your mind."

"Speaking of Malcolm, how do you like the room?"

"The red velvet? Eh. What does that have to do with Malcolm?"

"Didn't he have you in that— what was it— velvet room? No, it was, uh, lavender. Shit." He finds it funny.

"How do you know that?"

Tate doesn't say anything, he just caresses my face.

"I'm not going to touch you, I just want you to look at me," he speaks in a low voice, staring me in the eyes.

It helps that his are kind despite the drugs in his system that haven't hit yet.

He looks at my face as if he's waiting for it to reveal some sort of magic.

I don't look away from him, I can't, he looks so entranced.

It isn't until his eyes roll back and an "ahh" flies out of his open mouth that I realize what he's doing.

I look down and see his erect penis in his hand, dripping.

I scream internally but don't freak out solely out of fear. If I take him out of this moment, he might have a rage episode and take it out on me. I've already hit him and the only thing that stopped him from striking back was his father.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Yes! Saved by the bell, I think.

I pray that it's Raymond, coming to interrupt again.

"Tate, it's the girls." Jake's voice disappears as fast as it appears.

Two girls walk in, their high-heels clacking along the concrete floor.

"Fuck," Tate breathes. 

He looks at me and says, "You're gonna like this."

"Who's she?" Asks the thin redhead with nipple clamps.

"She just likes to watch." Tate makes something up.

He sits up in the bed and beckons each girl over.
They address him with a kiss on the respective cheek.

The redhead dances for Tate and steps out of her thong while the black girl straddles his lap.

"Hey, Daddy." She whispers.

As she kisses Tate, he looks at me over his shoulder.
"Say hi to your best friend," he cackles.

"Jasmine." I gasp.

The masked girl waves to me.

She's the same complexion as Jas, her hair is in a style that Jasmine would wear - long knotless braids.
Except she's much thinner.

Tate offers her a bump which she snorts.

He slaps her ass and she returns to kissing him.

He crawls back onto the bed, never minding me, and strokes my hair as she rides his face.

Oh my God. Help me!

I squeal and squirm in place, feeling violated in all sorts of ways.

Both girls strip bare and begin to make out.

"You can join us, you know?" The redhead says, tugging at my underwear.

I try to fight her off of me but the restraints tighten around my limbs.

"Next time." She flirts sensually.

The girls trade places and the redhead is now kissing Tate as Jasmine orally pleases him.

"Jasmine, psst," I whisper to get her attention.

"You don't have to do this," I tell her.

"Jasmine, please..."

She doesn't even look my way.

"Fuck, yes!" Tate roars with ecstasy.

The girls both start to moan louder and louder as if that was their cue to.

I look away but it's like a train wreck, you want to but can't.

The three of them entangle in another position, giggling and kissing with each exchange.

Tate watches the two girls make out and scissor while he strokes himself right beside my face.

Eventually, they slow their hips and add Tate back into the mix.

Jasmine lies on her back on the bottom of the pile while the redhead gets in between her legs and lies on top.

I regrettably watch Tate buck into the redhead over and over.

"Fill me up!" She screams, eyes rolling back under her mask.

I'm not impressed.

"Mmmm!" Jasmine moans, sealing her lips.

"Jasmine," I try talking to her again. "It's me. Please. Stop doing this."

"Shit, I'm cumming!" Tate announces.

"Look at me, Darling." He whimpers, grabbing my face to hold it still.

Gulp.

"O-o-oh. Fuckkkkkk!" He groans heavily, releasing.

"Finish each other off." Tate pants for breath, falling over on the mattress.

Having had enough, I finally say something.

"Jasmine, stop! This isn't you. Why are you doing this?" I plead, tears saturating my eyes.

"Oh," Tate starts to laugh. He's hysterical.

"This isn't Jasmine." He tells me.

"What?" I sniff, confused.

As the girl lies on her back, getting oral from the redhead, Tate removes her mask.

The unfamiliar face makes me feel uneasy.

"You lied." I say to Tate.

"Yeah, I did." He laughs, lighting a cigarette in bed.