Chapter 7: The Beginning of the End
"Did you pay my phone bill?" I lift my legs and a broom slides beneath them. I look up at June, and she's pondering. Her face is wrinkled in concentration, and she pulls her lips to one side. God, I love when she does that.
"I thought so," says June. She shrugs and keeps sweeping. "I hate that the stupid auto- pay isn't through yet."
"Did you use one of the new cards?"
"Yeah."
"Not one of the old cards?"
"No. Didn't you cut them up?"
"Yeah, but I thought maybe you wrote them down or memorized them.".
"I have them memorized. Do you need them?" June did have a freakishly good memory. I guess it comes from being a waitress, but strings of numbers, dates, or events never slip her mind. She's handy that way
"That's unsettling," I say.
She winks at me. "I have the new ones memorized, too."
"The identity thief, June Gladwell."
She sticks her tongue out at me and goes back to sweeping, giving her bare ass a light shake as she passes. I look back at the statement from my new phone saying that I'm behind on payments. There's no way I'm behind. It should be on auto-pay. Maybe something's wrong with the card.
I put a reminder in my phone to call the bank tomorrow, and put aside the bill. I grab my coffee from the table next to me and sip slowly. I hold the cup in front of my nose and enjoy the smell, the warmth in my hands, and the majesty of a naked woman cleaning my apartment. June does all the chores. She takes care of the bills. She cleans and does laundry. I grocery shop and cook. Old habits die hard. But for the most part, June plays dutiful housewife. I handle food, bring home the money, and get a nightly tongue bath on my pussy. It's a much nicer arrangement than I ever had with Carl.
It's been a few weeks like this. For a while, I was afraid to make any major movements. I ignored my family and what few friends I had. I haven't contacted work except to change my address and banking information. I was terrified that the smallest change would alert Reyna to my presence. I seem to be safe here. For now.
But "for now" turned into life. It turned into June growing attached to me, and honestly, I'm attached to June. She's wonderful in bed, and it's great to have a servant. But it's more than that. She's funny. And as submissive as she is around the house, she's quite aggressive in bed, giving me random bites or slaps on the ass. Last week she talked me into using the strap-on on her. It was great. I thought I'd get nothing out of it, but it builds pressure against the clit, and we can cum at the same time. She insists she's going to use it on me eventually, but I don't see it.
I know there's more to our relationship than sex, but frankly, the sex is the most distracting and time-consuming part. I was almost thankful when she got sick two weeks ago, and we had less sex. We would watch each other masturbate across the room, but we never made contact. Outside of sex, I've discovered she's kind of a yoga nut. I've enjoyed working with her on it. She's also encouraged me to start writing. I always said I would write, but I never found time. I became an editor thinking I'd have plenty of time to start writing and contacts to get published. Instead, I got so fed up with reading that I never made time or space to write.
What I thought was going to be a refuge in the middle of a hurricane ended up being a little slice of heaven. I don't think I'll marry June or anything like that, but this is nicer than anything I've ever had. I think one part of me still has a foot out the door. In case something goes wrong, I can't get too close to June. But she is soft and yummy. It's hard to resist.
These days, I've become terrible at resisting.
The bank tells me that my card has been frozen because of frequent charges to the card drafting more than the remaining balance. That leads me to ask what the balance of my account is because that can't be possible. I'm a careful budgeter, and try to be wise with money. Apparently, I owe my bank a few hundred dollars.
"How the hell is that possible?" I ask, pacing around the apartment in my bare feet.
"You are charging the card when there are insufficient funds ﾐ" intones some idiot on the other end.
"But there should be plenty of funds."
"There hasn't been a deposit in ﾉ four weeks."
"That's when I opened the account."
"That is correct."
"There's been no money added since I opened the account?"
"That is correct."
"What about my paycheck?"
"Excuse me?"
"There should be a direct deposit from my job."
"There have been no deposits since ﾐ"
"But there should be!"
"You'll have to take that up with your employer, ma'am. I'm not in a position to ﾐ"
I hang up the phone and dial the office. The intern, Kathy, tries to send me to payroll, who I've already talked to twice, but I raise enough hell for her to put me through to my boss, Diana.
"Yes?" comes Diana's voice over the phone. Diana has the voice of a matron, calm, even, commanding, and slightly elderly. She isn't ancient, in her late forties, but she dresses like she's seventy and reminds me of my grandmother.
"It's Sarah."
"Ah, yes. So good to hear from you. I was just ﾐ"
"Is there a reason I haven't been paid in weeks?"
"What? Uh, that's a question for payroll, you know that."
"I talked to payroll weeks ago. I called payroll twice. They say I'm not getting paid."
"Well, uh, yes."
"Why the hell am I not getting paid?"
"P-perhaps you should come into the office."
"What's going on, Diana?"
"Come into the office. Let's talk."
"Am I being fired?"
"No, nothing like that. But we've noticed some changes in your work these past few weeks and, well, it's just something I'd rather handle in person."
"You could have called me. You don't need to stop paying me. I'm still doing the work. Sure, it's slower than normal, but you need to tell someone before you fire them."
"You're not fired. Come into the office this afternoon."
She hangs up. I shake with frustration. I can't believe I've been reading trash romance novels for weeks for no pay. I'll sue them. That's what I'll do. I'll get back my pay. I can't believe this! This is preposterous. It's unprofessional. It's gotta be illegal.
I take an angry shower and keep fuming. My mind swirls with all the things I'm going to say to Diana. I imagine punching her or slamming the desk or smashing something. I should punch her through a desk. That's right; that's what I'll do.
After the shower, I eat something quickly, leave a note for June, and head to the office. I have to go downtown for our office building. It's not a huge publishing company, but it's big enough to have fancy downtown offices. Whenever I talk about it at parties, no one has ever heard of the company. But we're real, and, until four weeks ago, my paycheck was real too.
After parking, I get inside the building and head up to the fifth floor. I'm not with all the fancy publishers. I'm an editor, like a lackey or serf. Important people deal with authors and the media. I deal with books. Books are simple. Words are easy. Words never decide to randomly stop paying you.
The elevator door to the fifth floor opens, and I step out without thinking. I look around and wish I'd stayed in. The whole floor is blacked out. I see a few lights in a couple of the offices flickering, but other than that, it's like I've come in the middle of the night instead of right after lunch. The place should be swarming with interns and secretaries and editors and slave-drivers. Instead, it looks closed.
I hear something shuffling down the hallway and brace myself. It could be a janitor, or I could have walked into the middle of a zombie movie. I grab the edge of my purse strap, ready to swing the purse at anything that moves too quickly. Instead, the squirrely intern, Kathy, rounds the corner and quickly totters up to me, taking small steps on her heels and almost falling over.
"Oh, y-you're h-h-here," she says as she approaches. Kathy is an odd girl. She's in her late teens, in college I think, and she hopes to be an editor and then writer one day. Don't we all? She's cute, but under a wild mane of frizzy hair, thick circular glasses that are too large for her face, is a face covered in acne and freckles. I'm sure she'll bloom and look incredible one day, she certainly has the body for it, but that day is not today. My eyes linger on her breasts. Her shirt is unbuttoned one too many buttons to be decent, but not enough to be slutty. I can see the freckles on her cleavage as they spiral down from her neck. How did I never notice her beautiful breasts before? They're probably delicious.
"Uh, yes," I say. Kathy stands by, expectantly, as though I'm supposed to offer her my purse and coat. But I tear myself away from her tits and look past and around her, trying to see if anyone else is here. Diana must be here, I guess. I talked to her earlier, and Kathy is here. There also seems to be a definite lack of zombies, which makes me think that Diana is alive and kicking. But I still have no idea what's going on here. Did they stop paying me because they ran out of money?
"Where is everyone else?" I ask.
"W-who else?" stammers Kathy.
"Everyone. All the other ..." I wave my hand in front of me, indicating the entire floor, "people. Where did all the people go?"
"Oh. They left." She turns and rounds the corner, as though I'll follow, but I'm not going anywhere without answers.
"Left where?"
"The company," she says without looking behind at me. She rounds the corner to my right and disappears. I hesitate to follow. There is obviously something wrong. Why wouldn't I hear about the company letting go of so many people. Is this why I haven't been getting paid? Is the company going under? There's no way they'd be going under and still keep Kathy around. Did everyone quit when they stopped getting paid? I admit, I was preparing my quitting speech on the drive down here. I couldn't blame them.
"You coming?" Kathy pops her head around the corner and looks at me. "Diana's waiting for you."
"Diana still works here?"
"Of course, she does."
I chew my lip. I don't like this. "Have her come out here, then," I say.
Kathy gives an over-dramatic sigh and disappears back around the corner.
A few minutes later, Diana comes around the corner and my jaw drops. She's gone from my grandmother to a total milf, like a killer porn star in her late forties that only gets cast in roles as the slutty step-mother. Damn. Her blouse isn't flowery or bulky. It's smooth cr塾e-colored silk with sleek lines and enough undone buttons to let me know she has no bra on. Her black pencil skirt is tight and has a slight slit on the right leg. She has beautiful, fuck-me stilettos on to top it all off. She's clearly had her hair done. It's not colored, still slightly greying, but it's not puffy. It's straight and up in a tight ponytail. She's also learned to lighten up on the makeup and accentuate her eyes instead of her lips or cheeks. Damn.
"Sarah," she says with a smile on her face as she approaches. She spreads her arms and wraps me into a hug. I reluctantly accept, but I'm then delighted to feel how soft her blouse is. This must be incredibly expensive.
"Diana," I mumble into her shoulder while she rocks me back and forth. "What happened here?"
"What?" Diana breaks the hug and looks around the dark room of abandoned cubicles. "Ah, yes. Downsizing, unfortunately."
"Is the company in trouble?" I ask.
"Oh, not at all. We have a new CEO that is taking this specific division in a new direction."
"Is that why I haven't been getting paid? Am I being laid off?"
Diana looks confused for a moment and then laughs. "Oh no, nothing like that. Your situation is special, which is why I've called you in here."
"What's special about my situation?"
"Come," she says and takes my hand. I tense. Why is she grabbing me? This isn't just unlike Diana, this is unlike any employer. "Come into my office." She guides me around the corner towards her office. Her grip is tight on me, not allowing me to slow down as I try to get a better look at the office. Some cubicles and offices do have lights on, but very few of them. All of them are women, and few of them are ones I recognize. Most of them are clustered around Diana's office, which is in the back-right corner of the floor. Her office has glass windows, so normally anyone can see inside of it, but the blinds are drawn and all I can see is a dim light from inside. Thankfully, the sight of the other women present and working relaxes me. This isn't a zombie movie, and I'm not about to be killed. All of the women appear perfectly normal. They're working at their desks, reading a manuscript, or typing at their computers. This is business as usual, but with less people and less lighting.
"Kathy, come," says Diana as we pass Kathy's tiny desk in front of Diana's office.
"Why is Kathy -" I start, trying to figure out how Kathy is relevant.
"She's been learning about payroll," says Diana hurriedly.
Kathy gets up and goes ahead of us, to open the door to Diana's office. Diana keeps holding my hand outside the office as Kathy opens the door for us and steps inside. I can't see fully into the office. I can see Diana's desk and a standing lamp in the corner that is lit with a lacy shawl over it to give the whole room an orange glow.
Kathy enters the darkness and starts to unbutton her blouse. I look to Diana, confused, but Diana smiles at me. I try to step away, but Diana keeps a tight grip on my hand and pulls me into the office. Kathy continues to strip casually, without explanation. Diana lets go of my hand, but I don't move. I stand, transfixed as Kathy peels off her bra and panties without hesitation. Her body is incredible, and I can't help but wonder if she's ever eaten a woman out or if she wants to eat me out. Then I see her pierced nippled and feel a surge of panic, breaking the fantasy.
I turn around to look at Diana, and I see a couch in the corner of the office. On the couch, in a simple blue dress, is Reyna, lounging comfortably. The strange orange light brings out the light in her amber eyes and I feel my mouth go dry and my legs get weak.
"Ah, little Sarah," says Reyna. "I've missed you."
I turn and try to open the door, but it's locked. I look to Diana, but she's crossed the room to Reyna and hands her the key. Diana smiles at me sympathetically, but then begins to strip her clothing as well, revealing more pierced nipples. Wonderfully pierced nipples.
This time, I don't get distracted. I bang on the door and try to get someone, anyone, to help me escape. My eyes dart back to Reyna, Diana, and Kathy, to make sure no one tries to stop me. But Reyna looks on in amusement, and Kathy and Diana sit at her feet, on their knees. When no one answers my shouts, I start to lift the blinds in the office, to show everyone what is going on. Reyna giggles a little bit, but I look out at the dark office, where everyone diligently works on the other side of the glass. They keep working.
"What?" I whisper. "Is it a one-way mirror or something?"
"No, darling," says Reyna. "I didn't think you'd want an audience, but you do surprise me."
"What's wrong with them?" I ask. All around the office women keep working or reading. They either can't hear me or see me or both. I bang on the glass, but it feels solid and no one turns to see what's going on.
"They are mine," says Reyna. "And I've asked them to give us some privacy." I hear Reyna get up and cross the office to my side. We both stare out at a room full of her playthings. All of them are hers. There must be ten or fifteen people here. Every one of them is a sex slave to Reyna now? "Though, if you wish, I could ask them to watch. They would love to see me take you."
"Is that what this is? You've finally come to get me?"
"No, darling. We had a deal, remember? You will come to me when you are ready."
"Then what am I doing here?"
"Well," Reyna runs her hand down my forearm. I don't move, but my skin tightens and goosebumps spring up all over me. I don't dare turn and look at her or her eyes. "You broke the rules, didn't you?"
"The rules? What rules?"
"Well, no rules specifically. I don't know the word. Hmmm, como se dice ﾉ" She crosses back to her couch and sits down. I turn to watch, but keep my gaze on Diana and Kathy. Both of them look so happy and empty next to Reyna. Their eyes track Reyna constantly, but they don't move without Reyna's permission.
"Ah, yes!" says Reyna as she twirls and gracefully falls onto the couch. The motion is so youthful and feminine it almost makes me forget I'm dealing with a complete psychopath. Almost. "You didn't break the rules. But you abandoned the game, and that is a form of cheating to me."
"You were ruining my life," I say. I feel the panic leave my system, and the fire in my belly builds as I think of Jace, Carl, and Maria.
"Those were chess pieces in our little game," says Reyna. "Nothing personal."
"My best friend and my boyfriend weren't personal?"
"Oh, Sarah, we both know how little you valued Karla. She told me."
"She?"
"You can't leave the game," says Reyna, ignoring my question. "At first, I wanted to give you space. You needed to regroup. I understand. But this many weeks? That is too long."
"So, what? You enslave my employers?"
"Yes," says Reyna with a nod. She says it so simply, like my life and the lives of those she takes are little things to her. None of them matter. "You must admit, it was quite clever. You changed all your information, but kept the same job. I knew I could get to them, and then I could find you."
I can't think straight to process everything she's saying. How long has she known where I work? How long has she been following me, trying to get me? Was Maria a step to get me? Carl was. Diana was. How many people will she ruin just to get to me? On top of my confusion, my anger boils. I wish Reyna would just fight me. It doesn't matter that she has the body of an Olympic beach volleyball player with incredible tits. It doesn't matter that she's got a floor of sex slaves who will hold me back. If she gives me five minutes to tear her apart, I would put all of my rage into it. At least I could make her ugly.
"Sarah, darling, sit. You're too tense. This isn't an attack."
"What else would you call it?" I don't sit.
"A negotiation," she turns to Diana and strokes Diana's hair. Diana lets out a little moan at Reyna's touch. "How did you put it, pet?" she asks.
"A parley," says Diana.
"Yes. That. Peace talks in time of war, yes?" says Reyna. Diana just nods. "This is for talking. I want to go back to our game. I was having so much fun with you. You are good prey."
"This is a game to you?" I clench my fists and feel the heat rush over my body. I will kill this bitch.
"Yes. Now sit." Something flashes in my eyes, and I have to blink repeatedly to get it out while rubbing my eyes. When I finally get it out, I realize I'm sitting on the couch across from Reyna. I stare up at Reyna with confusion. She smiles.
"Let's not pretend this is a conversation between equals," she says. Again, her voice is calm and soft. I could fall asleep to it, so gentle and soothing.
"Then what is?"
"This is the moment before they let the fox loose and the hunt begins," she purrs.
"And I'm the fox?"
"Yes, and you've been quite foxxy." Kathy lets out a giggle at Reyna's unintentional double meaning. Reyna glares at her. "Kathy, pet, look into my eyes." Kathy gets on her knees and turns around to look into Reyna's eyes. I see a flicker of light in Reyna's amber iris. "You have too much energy. Try one thousand sit-ups." Kathy gets up and heads behind Diana's desk. She gets on her back and then starts to do sit-ups.
"One thousand?" I ask.
"You haven't been a very good fox," says Reyna. "A good fox will run. A good fox may hide. But you aren't playing at all. And that makes my hunt boring. I hate being bored, almost more than I hate being disrespected." Reyna's eyes flicker to Kathy. Reyna pulls lightly on Diana's hair until Diana looks into her eyes. "Get rid of Kathy when she's done. Forever." Diana nods, and Reyna stands. She goes to the door, unlocks it, and looks at me. I quickly glance at her feet, which are bare, instead of making eye contact. "Come, little Sarah. I'm tired of this place."
She leaves the room. I hesitate to follow. I look at Diana, who begins to slowly stroke her pussy with a blissed-out grin on her face. I look over to Kathy and see her doing sit-ups. The pain is evident on her face, but she keeps going. I can't stay locked in here with Reyna's drones, so I follow her out of the office. She extends her arm and gestures for me start walking through the cubicles. I walk, and Reyna falls in alongside me. As we walk, I look at all the women working in the cubicles. None of them even glance at us, like we're invisible to them. Reyna doesn't say anything as we walk. I look at her out of the corner of my eye. She's in a simple blue dress and bare feet, no sex appeal. She's almost girlish, this psycho sex godess.
"You want a good hunt," I finally say.
"I do."
"Why me?"
"Because you are great prey. Like white shark."
I know she means the white whale, but I don't say anything. I can't do a thousand sit- ups. I don't think Kathy can either, and I don't want to try.
"And what if I refuse?"
Reyna stops and turns to look at me. I look quickly look at her feet. "You think you have a choice?" I don't move. The weight of the situation crushes my chest. She could do to me what she's done to Kathy or Carl or worse. Could she command me to kill myself? Could she enslave me by force, make me beg to eat her out for the rest of my life? What am I gaining by resisting her? Every time I resist, I upset her, and every time I upset her, other people suffer.
Reyna strokes my chin with her long fingers and manicured hands. "I am a gentle goddess, little Sarah. You will enjoy your demise, I promise." Her fingers guide my chin up, until I am looking into her eyes. I don't resist. What's the point of resisting anymore?
Her eyes are perfect. Almond shape, giving her a vaguely Asian appearance. Her eyes are a glowing amber, almost gold or like a crystal. It looks like there are stars in her eyes, almost constellations. I can see the patterns, swirling around her iris like watching the stars in the night sky pass overhead. They're so beautiful. Why did I ever resist looking at them? How did I have the self-control? The stars could spell out words or make images if I connect them carefully. One star at a time. That's all I need to do. I need to focus on the stars. I've been so careless before. So, stupid. I've been avoiding her eyes for so long, when all I have to do is focus on them. I need to pay more attention, not less. Past the constellations is an unfolding sea, with waves pulling pack layers like the petals of a rose. I strip away the layers, trying to peel my way to the center of her eyes. But there is always more. It's consuming me, to go so deep into her. Goddess, she is so vast. I move through the folds of her eyes, finding new stars to track, new constellations to mark on my mind, until I realise it looks like a pussy. No, not a pussy. A cunt. The word comes so clearly now. A cunt. I need to find a cunt. Any cunt. A cunt with layers and depth like Reyna's beautiful eyes. I need to pull back the layers with my tongue. That's what the stars want.
I feel Reyna's fingers leave my face as she steps away from me. I blink, and look around the office. Some people have left. Some of the lights have gone out. How long was I looking into Reyna's eyes?
Then I remember, this has happened before. In the bathroom, the first time we met. I got lost in her eyes, and time skipped ahead. What did she do to me just now? What did she do to me then? I look up at Reyna and she smiles. The panic gushes out of my mind with a sigh. There she is: my center.
"Let me show you that you have no choice in being prey. You are prey because I chose you. That is all you need to know."
I nod before my brain tells my neck to nod. The thoughts are sluggish, not getting to the body parts in time, so the body rebels and acts alone. Reyna points to one of the women reading a book, a manuscript, in a cubicle next to us.
"Eat her out, little Sarah. She will not engage you. To her, you do not exist. Make sure she cannot ignore your tongue."
My whole body is in rebellion. I tell the legs to wait, but before the thought gets there, the legs go. I tell my hands to strike at Reyna, instead, they take off my shirt. I tell my mouth to scream, but it smiles.
I don't want this, but I might as well enjoy it.