CHAPTER443
My gut is screaming that this whole scene is wrong, even if this is the norm for places I used to frequent. Public sex goes hand in hand with drunks and drugged up assholes. It isn’t the first time I’ve seen clubbers go at it in the shadows, but in this place, a place Arrick frequents, he would never condone any of this, and it’s sending off a million warning bells.
“I’ve had enough.” I try to hand it back to her. Certain there’s something in it, but she just shoves it back at my face. The mistrust in my stomach makes me stiffly stop it and bring my eyes to her in an act of defiance. Camilla frowns, smiles wider and leans in quickly, catching me off guard, hitting my mouth with hers and delivering a seductive lip suck and attempt to kiss me properly. That at once sends me into defensive mode and I practically spit out the taste of her cherry lipstick and champagne saliva. I pull away, shoving her back harshly and spill the drink between us in the process.
“I’m not like that.” I stutter, completely thrown. I’ve never had a girl make a pass at me, and I have no idea how to react. It sends a new wave of repulsion through, similar to what I get with men, yet somehow worse. It feels like more of a betrayal somehow.
“You’re such a square … it’s just a harmless girl snog. Everyone does it.” She licks her red lips and smiles at me, eyes homed in on me once more and edges in a lot more slowly as if somehow warning me means she gets to have another go. This time I push her further and harder and step back.
“No! I said, NO!” I snap defensively, that inner child lashing out when cornered and my breath starts hitching in panic. She giggles and runs a finger down my cheek with a pouted smile, cooling my rage for a moment.
“You’re no fun, Pooky.” She adopts a cute baby voice like she’s talking to a fucking puppy and taps my glass again. Not fazed by my outburst or hostile reaction at all. “Drink up and we’ll have a little dance instead.” She tips my glass up at my base, pushing it into my lips so I taste the first sip, my eyes glued on her warily, caught in a dreamlike state, yet my gut kicks in at a thousand miles an hour, and I know for certain I shouldn’t drink this.
She’s distracted for a second by another man, this one looks mid-thirties, leaning into her ear and saying something which has her turning away to get a better angle to listen, and I see my chance. I tip the glass to the side and empty the contents over my shoulder, feeling the splash of liquid up the back of my leg, and knowing I probably just soaked my dress and the person gyrating behind me. I pull it back to my mouth quickly as she turns back to me with a smile. Camilla grins when she sees my now empty glass and that mistrust increases in my gut, sure she has put something in my alcohol.
I suddenly picture the girl from the wall in my head, her trashed expression, and wonder if she succumbed to the same thing already. I’ve heard of drugs being used on girls in clubs, to make them more pliable, lower inhibitions and zombie them out so men could abuse them for their own pleasure. I didn’t think it was actually true, but now I am not so sure.
“Good girl. See, it’s not so hard to unwind and relax a little. You’re in good hands, Sophieboo. Trust Aunty Camilla to take care of you.” She removes it from me and slides me back into a little clearing, making it obvious she wants to dance now I have dutifully had my drink. My heart is hammering, eyes taking in the number of girls around us in various positions with these men. The goosebumps over my skin alert me to the screaming voice in my head, telling me that I am completely out of my depth. I need to get away from here and these people.
I catch sight of another girl in the corner. I vaguely recognize her as another runaway rich kid whose parents think she has gone off the rails. I’m sure her parents know mine, and she’s leaning forward on the lap of a man with gray hair, gray fucking hair! He’s like fifty, and he maneuvers under her. I can’t tell if he’s messing with her, unbuckling pants or doing the deed, but I click that under here, where another floor above acts as a roof to conceal this shit, in the dark private corner where Camilla has set up, there’s a lot of sex going on. Sex between wealthy looking older men, and young tearaway girls, like I was. Subtle to drunken dancers who are paying no attention, but I’m practically sober, alarm bells ringing and homing in on what’s happening around me in sheer mortification. It’s all so fucking sordid.
Camilla starts gyrating in towards me sexily, pulling my hips into her own pelvis and running her hands up and down me seductively, in time to the music. She seems to have no boundaries in which part of my body she can happily stroke, her hands cup my breast more than once and I slide them away. Knowing I should be moving, running, and getting back upstairs and away from this. My head’s telling me to keep calm and be rational. I never drank the champagne. I’m not in immediate danger, and if I keep my cool, I can dance, smile, and make my goodbyes after this song, without any real fallout. She will just assume whatever was in my drink didn’t work.
It will cause less drama, means I am more likely to be able to walk away from this, and when I do, I am marching to the nearest security and telling them what the fuck is going on here. My head is already trying to figure out who in the police department I should even call about this shit, if any crime is even going on here. None of the girls are saying no exactly, no one is fighting them off.
She’s trashed, acting like the worst kind of whore and obviously swings both ways, clear by the fact she keeps trying to angle in to kiss me. She has no chance in hell of getting me to go girl on girl if that’s what she’s thinking, and I bristle up inside. Holding back my panicking, violent, Sophie child, in a bid to handle this like an adult.
New hands come at me from behind, Camilla suddenly leans into me, reaching around me and pulls someone forward, so they cup my ass and male hands rest on my hips. The body heat engulfs me instantly, prickling my skin and putting me on even more of a defensive. She starts swaying me to the music and ignores my struggle to move out of this embrace, caught between an obvious male with a fucking hard-on jammed into my ass and her gyrating in my groin like lesbian of the year in a porn flick. That strangling suffocation of panic consumes me, eyes flicking up to the roof in a bid to psychically attract Arry. Needing him more than ever.
“Just relax, don’t fight it and he will make you feel really, really good. Richard is hung like a donkey and fucks like a bull.” She whispers into my face, running her mouth across mine again. I recoil and my head bangs into a male chest behind me, aware I am being completely backed into submission with no way out, somehow, she has impaled my body in his and has my wrist in hers, held tight, feet pinned to the floor by the weight they have on me.
Hands come around to grab my breasts and I lash out furiously, trying to yank free with little effect, wriggling to move but it’s almost futile. I’m held taut, and I can only imagine they think the super drug is going to render me docile at any minute. I start to panic. So many flashing images running through my head to send me over the edge if I let that pervert back in to render me useless. I claw away the visuals and try to focus on staying here, in the now.
“What the fuck, Cam?” I snap at her, but the male behind me yanks me back against him harder, clutching my breasts painfully from behind, diving into my naked neck and shoulder and biting my skin with little care to leaving marks. I react psychotically, turning in his arms with new found strength from a sudden adrenaline boost, yanking my wrists free and throwing my hands at his chest with slaps and shoves that are quickly restrained with fast reflexes and what feels like a million hands.
“She’s a feisty one. You know I love me some fucking fire, Cam.” He laughs at me and looks over my head, trying to back me further into the secluded area with him. I struggle and fight, head full of that girl being pounded against the wall, panicking like crazy, tears biting my eyes and heart exploding in my chest.
I don’t hear her response, don’t turn to see her before he dives in again, yanking me cruelly close with strong hands and forces his mouth on mine, his grip on my arms biting hard. Teeth clash against my lips which I have slammed shut, in the most painful way.
He’s not the kind of young boozed up asshole I’m used to dealing with; he’s about thirty-five maybe more, strong, well-built, and obviously works out. He just reeks of money and power and no way in hell am I able to fight him off. He’s intent on getting what he thinks he’s owed. Some sort of sex hungry prick with little concern about raping women it seems. I open my mouth and bite his lip hard, tasting blood with satisfaction, trying like crazy to get him off me, but he’s like an octopus with limbs encircling and trapping me. He grabs me by the throat and tightens harshly, hurting and choking off my air supply, pulling me into his mouth with a deadly evil gaze, right into my eyes which makes me momentarily mute. I’m completely terrified. Gasping at the shock of his swift reaction, aware that I can’t inhale, or swallow and my body goes limp.
“I have a million fucking rape fantasies; I suggest you play nice if you don’t want to be on the receiving end. I love slaves and some BDSM, really know how to make a girl fucking scream, and I don’t mean in pleasure. Camilla owes me. Pipe down and let the drugs take effect, you will thank me for it later.” His cruel words calm me momentarily, my body reeling in shock and that psychotic, controlled tone makes me freeze submissively for a moment.
I turn my head slightly to catch Camilla, to plead for her to help me with wild eyes and tears falling freely. I don’t know why I think she will, considering the bitch tried to drug me. She blows me a kiss, cold and uncaring and turns on her heel with a little smirk. Disappears into the crowds around us and leaves me trapped in this cruel embrace.
Finding my inner fire, sparked by her response, clawing out from inside me as his mouth ascends on my cleavage. He is obviously someone who is used to getting what he wants, doesn’t take no for an answer, but I am not about to give in because I know I can’t win. It isn’t in me to give in that easily, even when my father abused me for years. He left me black and blue from the beatings because I wouldn’t yield to him. I am not about to fucking yield now, to this power-crazy asshole with a hard-on, especially not when surrounded by people who might actually help me if I make a scene.
I push with all my might and bring my knee up hard into his groin, the way Arrick taught me years before. Little memories of self-defense moves he tried to get me to remember. Kept hounding me to learn under his careful guidance, and right now, I wish I’d listened to him and took more lessons. I get a twisted sense of satisfaction when I collide with something soft, then hard, with a force to hurt my own limb in the process, and he lets me go, crumbling into a bent pose with a muffled ‘ughhh’.
I make a dash for it, but he’s only half wounded, recovers inhumanly fast, grabbing my wrist and tugs me back to him so I collide once more. This time he grabs me by the throat and pulls me tight to him, so I’m nose to nose. Squeezing so I can’t breathe, can’t take a breath and I panic. I grasp at his fingers with both hands, no longer fighting to get away, but fighting to take in air as, that terror-inducing fear points out I can’t. I’m suffocating and I’m going to black out if he doesn’t let up on my throat. His grip is superhumanly tight, and he has no qualms about applying pressure, obvious he uses this form of control frequently.
He lifts me up a little, so my feet scrape the floor, making it tighter. Weird gasps come from my mouth and he sneers at what he’s doing to me. A smirk on his face that puts the fear of God into my soul.
This here is a monster, much like the one I ran from. A man who has no qualms about inflicting pain and suffering and taking what he wants. I know I’m pretty much screwed; even in a public club like this, this kind of shit happens all the time. With enough money and power, you can make anything go away, and he knows it. This obviously isn’t the first time he has exerted force on a little girl, and I have no doubt that as soon as I get weak or pass out from this, he will fuck me, in a dark rancid corner like that girl, and then walk away as if nothing happened. His smug confidence in how he’s handling me makes that clear."
