Chapter 13

Friday

I wake from sleep, and my neck is burning. Outside again, it's a chilly morning. Their mark. I gently touch at the bandage, removing it and pawing at the burn. Unsure of how it looks, or what it means.

Whatever they pumped me full of, makes me dumb. My body slow in responding to commands. Sitting up and holding my head with both hands seemed to move in slow motion. 

I don't have energy to stand, or even the desire. I just set on the cot, trying to think, to remember but everything is out of place. I'm not remembering, placing things in the right order, I know this.

My mind wanders through the fog, not being able to distinguish reality from fantasy. What did they ask? What did I tell them? I remember...the brunette, she questioned me, she pried into me.

What did she ask!?

I hear her voice, "No, stay with me."

The searing pain in my neck refreshes in my mind. They branded me. 

It means something. I'm going to be released. Why else would they mark me? Why go to the trouble? Leave an incriminating mark on a corpse? I ask these questions as I pace the small cell, regaining control of my body.

Blood flow, gets memories flashing at me.

"How scared were you little boy?"

"How did you find out? Your dad died?"

The blonde. My dad. They know about that now. What else, what else?

"We don't control your destiny...we're just here to distract you."

Distract me? From what!?

Then the brunette's in my face, "You already know, silly...our uprising."

Her voice darkens. My memory screeches to a halt. 

It's true. 

My research, all the hours of research, the deep tunnels of conspiracy. All true. 

The drug still kicking me. My mind goes sideways. I'm stumbling now, as I'm pulling memories from yesterday, while dealing with a bendy jail cell.

The nurse outfits. The dungeon. The uprising. The "shift". They know everything about me. Everything. 

I'm no longer protected by anonymity. Completely exposed.

I manage to hold myself up with the aid of the wall, my body wants to puke, but not from the drug. This level of truth. This deep of a rabbit hole. And they all but confirmed it.

You can question it all you want. The evidence adds up. It all adds up. 

My mind spins and spins, I get nowhere. No traction. I can't form coherent thoughts worthy of deeper investigation, just immediate conclusions. 

The leaks that led the purge of male deep state agents over the last six months. The drug running and prostitution ring exposed at the C.I.A. The sex scandals from both political sides. All men.

The new head of the N.S.A. Female. 

The new Lieutenant Governor of New York. Female.

Stop it. 

The new C.O.O. of the C.I.A. The head of Vera Media. The new Vice President. Iowa's Governor. All female.

That's just the last month. Who knows what's been happening, the hidden moves happening right now.

I'm numb. I barely register falling to my ass. Missing the cot, I'm slightly embarrassed, but more stunned. Words. Intelligent words escaping me. 

I don't know how long I sat. Just staring at the wall, I'm just seeing the world changing around me. Watching the new direction. The new influence. The wave of pro female programming. Female control. Over everything. Social media. Television.  Government. Corporate. Military?

Honestly, I know they wouldn't be any worse. Probably be less apt to invest in secret foreign wars, but it's the way it's going down. The secrecy. The manipulation of the true story being hid behind so many males downfalls.

Yes, the men, all the men involved are guilty. It's the manipulation; I'm hung up on, the subvertness of this tactical move. This global wave. It's a move one would expect from men.

Goosebumps cover me when I realize I'm helpless to do anything. To stop or slow this. Could my readers ever truly do anything? Here I am, rotting away in a jail cell in the middle of nowhere, and I'm worried about telling strangers, the larger story. 

Fucking. Idiot. 

I set for hours, running thru the emotions of shock, disbelief, bartering and realization. I think about having a cigarette, but I just don't have the will to get up.

The day drags on, and the sun passes overhead. Not moving lowers my body temp, and soon I'm curled up. Wrapping my arms around myself to keep warm. I hear nothing but the wind snapping outside my cell. Its late fall, wherever I am, it's colder than Iowa right now. 

I don't eat all day. One MRE remains, some snacks but my appetite has vanished. My nicotine thirst has dried up. I feel hollow all day. I don't suffer from depression, but in my mind, I somehow feel a strong sense of it.

Is it the male ego, and its loss of control? Or more of, who do I know is involved with the uprising? 

The sun sets and I begin to get up, when I hear a golf cart stop close.

"And, here we go." I say to myself.

Their footsteps on dirt and rock give them away. It's after a moment of silence before I look over to them. I'm frozen when I see what they're wearing. Two cheerleaders stand at my door. Two sets of pigtails on both their heads. Their faces covered by the clear plastic masks, fake makeup painted on.

Both of them smiling at me. Their pom poms swish in the breeze. The blonde's wig is golden blonde. The colors of their uniform coincidentally matching my high schools. Black and orange. Their legs shiny and brown, more hose.

Dammit, I'm easy.

I have to look away as they eye me like an exhibit.

"He's sooo cute, makes you just want to take him home." The brunette.

"He looks sad." The blonde says in a baby voice.

"Maybe we can give him a treat before the teacher comes over."

We're role playing now. I'm reluctant to play into their plan. 

"Come here, come here." The brunette says sweetly into my cell, like I'm a pet.

I roll my eyes, trying not to look to them. Keep some form of control.

Facing them, I look to the sky past them. I can feel their eyes pulling me to them, wanting my attention. 

"Aww, he's scared." The blonde quips.

My eyes shoot rage to hers, only to see her evil smile. My eyes deceiving me, run a once over her, and back to her eyes. It's exactly what she wanted.

Her eyes sparkle, knowing I can't resist my own temptations. Even when the world is crumbling all around me. 

"Which is it, drug me or zap me?"

They eye each other, and giggle together. I can't help but get turned on by this. 

Don't show them!

"Funny you should ask." The brunette says matter of factly, as she pulls a joint from her bra.

My eyes look from the joint, then to both of them.

"What...is this?"

"It's weed you silly boy...and we have to smoke it fast before our group comes back!" She states with enthusiasm. 

"Do ya have a light?" The blonde pulls my attention to her with rhetorical question. "Or are ya scared?"

I think I nod, my eyes locked onto hers.

They giggle and whisper to each other, eyeing me like meat. I retrieve the lighter, and turn to see them laughing and almost posing themselves as giggly cheerleaders for me. 

I can't help it. I'm rock hard, and he, who I will not name again, must have made an impression, as their eyes bulge and they laugh enthusiastically at me as I return to the door. 

Now this feels like high school all over again. 

I dare not touch the metal door as I slowly hand over my only lighter. I see the blonde eyeing me as she takes it. There's a moment I realize what I've just done, the control I've just handed over to her. 

My face has to say it.

Smiling like a temptress, she lights the joint for the brunette. Holding onto it, she eyes me as she plays with it. She sees I want it back, eyeing it then her with reservation. I watch her helplessly as she tucks in her skirt. Her eyes tell me I have to earn it back.

The brunette has taken a large drag, coughing, she holds it awkwardly for the blonde.

The blonde is locked in eye contact war with me. Not letting go of the lighter, or my eyes. She finally blinks, letting go, giggling as she takes the joint. She stands, leg bent, holding the joint like an inexperienced teenager. She takes me in as she inhales, her eyes water, as she hands it through the bars.

I take the smoking joint, and pull two big hits before handing it to the brunette. She takes it; I see her eyes sparkling under her mask. She stands close to the door, her face changes, her head lowers, her eyes boring into me.

"Did you ever get to smoke with cheerleaders in high school?"

"Not like this."

Both girls giggle, passing the joint. The brunette starts twisting her hips, causing her skirt the fly up. Both stare holes into me, looming closer to the door. The blonde begins twirling her hair, handing me the joint. 

"I bet. Probably too good for you weren't they?"

"I wasn't...popular back then, so kinda. Was that...in my files too?"

Both girls laugh without giving me a response. They stand together, I hit the dwindling joint and look back to them, to see them so close to each other; they look like a two headed fantasy monster.

They don't offer to take the roach, and I save it for later on the metal sink. I turn back to them, only to see the blonde. A click then the hum stops, and the brunette comes back into view. 

She tosses the blonde a pair of handcuffs, and their attention comes back to me. The blonde looks to me without speaking. She holds them up, as she leans in. The brunette gets my attention by crackling the stun gun to life.

The look on her face says don't resist. I realize I can't. I numbly give her left then my right. Her eyes never leave mine, attaching my wrists by feel. I'm married to the electrified metal door by metal handcuffs. Experience says, this isn't going well.

Her left hand holds on my right and I look down, then her right hand is at my face. Stroking it with affection. She eyes me like a mythical creature.

The brunette has the stun gun in one hand, and the key in the other. Her eyes penetrating me without speaking. The door unlocks, and I nervously step back.

They both push the door into me, and I back up to the wall. I'm pinned between the metal door and the concrete wall and I have two evil cheerleaders eyeing me like helpless prey. 

It's like they know my fantasies. 

My wrists are pulled through by both of them, and the metal door is in my face. Their eyes are all I see. My hands go to fists squished in between them; I feel the material of their uniforms. I'm inches from their faces. A layer of metal bars between us.

I'm not going to say anything, so I stand silently, waiting for them to lead.

"Now, I see that cuteness. Look at him, trying to act tough." The blonde says leaning in. 

"And now I smell that fear." The brunette adds, leaning in so close she smells me. "I love the way he smells."

In this close quarters, my eyes shift from each girls faces. Only their eyes are visible behind the plastic. The blonde and her blue eyes. The brunette with her green eyes. Both sets look illuminated, vampire like. Contacts. 

 "What would you do if we turned the juice back on?"

"Probably invent a couple new dance moves." I say unsure I want to imagine that scenario.

They both snicker, staying close to me. I feel my hands being pried open. I don't resist, until I see the brunette making her way into my hands. My hands are pushed apart, with just enough room she slides in between my secured wrists, forcing them to hold her. I feel her skirt and shell, both feel rough. Feels uncomfortable to wear.

She shimmies in my hands, running them over her skinny hips, over her skirt. I open my hands, attempting to not touch her anymore than I have to. Even though I really, really want to.

My resistance drives her; I can see it in her eyes. Slowly moving back and forth, her eyes locked into mine. Her hands make their way to my face, holding it directly facing hers.

I feel another hand moving over my hips. Running under the waistband of my sweatpants, then my boxers. I feel her nails running over my skin as I can't move, I can't look away.

"You have me helpless, now what?"

"Completely." The blonde starts.

"Helpless." The brunette finishes. 

The brunette continues shimmying in my hands; I feel her raise up on her toes. My hands run further down her skirt, and I try to protest as they go past the tip of fabric. She drops back down, and my hands run up her hosed legs. 

My hands try to protest, but the bondage keeps them on her. My heart rushes and the blonde's hands make their way forward. Then lower.

I can't help it. I'm hard. I'm immobile and I can't look away. My hands begin to betray me first, becoming soft on her legs. The blonde grabs hold, and my eyes bounce from each face.

Scared but excited. A fantasy roller coaster I have no control over. I can't get off or stop.

The brunette notices my hands and I see her face change to excitement under the mask. She moves her hips slower and harder in my hands. I can't stop, my hands grab. She notices, her hands grab my neck harder. My eyes glued into hers.

Her masked face leans in close to mine. I swallow dried saliva, wetting my lips. I rush a fading thought about my breath.

My face is held tight, she moves closer until I smell her breath. Sweet, like strawberries. Her shampoo is citrus infused expensiveness. Her face tilts, matching mine.

The blonde tugs gently at me with one hand, the other pulls me close to the bars. I feel cold steel on my stomach. My groin is cold outside her warm hand. 

"What...where-"

The brunette cuts me off by touching her face to mine. I feel her real lips touch mine. I stop and hold myself there. She doesn't kiss me, gently running her lips over mine. I feel her tongue grazing me. 

Her eyes stare into mine without a word. I'm frozen, breathing shallow gasps with her lips on mine. I try to move to the right; she moves just a fraction with me. Her eyes overconfident, expects me to jerk to the left. 

I swallow instead, and wait. Another moment goes by, I can't help it, I breathe into her mouth. Holding it in for as long as I can, only builds pressure, making it hard not to think of breathing. Hitting her with my horrible breath. 

She doesn't react, instead I feel her closer to me on the other side of metal. I feel the warmth from their bodies pressing into me. I feel her pull me closer, our lips press into each other. 

I can't take it anymore, I try to push my lips into hers, and she pulls away. Staying just inches from my now outstretched lips. I lean forward, she pulls back a fraction. 

Molecules away from me. Just staying out of touch. Her eyes sparkling evilly at me.

She got me. 

I lean back, realizing I lost round one. Realizing the game.

The blonde begins rubbing her leg on the bar, slightly getting my attention. She raises it to catch my eye. Perverted instinct gets me to look. 

She smiles silently, raising her leg just enough for me to see. Slipping her knee in between the bars. She provocatively stares holes into me, slightly smiling at my slipping resistance. 

I hear her nylon graze the metal before I feel it gently on my skin. She feels me swell and harden. Her face changes to excitement. I feel it on my hip, my face wains, and I have to wake my eyes from glazing over into hers.

The brunette moves out of my hands, I can't stop my hands from running over her underwear. Turning back, she smiles coyly.

She stops five feet from me, standing rigid, she faces the door.

"Ready?! Okay!" 

"Oh no." I say out loud to myself, trying to look away.

The blonde grabs the back of my neck with her right hand. My face is forced into the bars, I can't look away. Her left stays firmly on my member.

"No." She says loud enough for me to hear. "You're going to watch."

I look into her eyes, trying to move.

"Not me. Her." She eyes the brunette, then back to me.

I defiantly look away, and feel her nails dig into my sensitive skin. My eyes bulge, looking to her in pain.

"Watch. Her." She firmly states, then releasing her claw grip.

I gasp out a breath, trying not to let her know how much that hurt. My eyes reluctantly blink, and go to the brunette. The blonde's eyes stay on me; I feel her leg rubbing my stomach. Nails at the ready to dig in. 

The brunette stands rigid, still smiling big. Her hands on her hips, pom poms in each hand.

"I said, ready!? Okay!...Two-four-six-eight, the N-S-A is really great!"

I try to pull away feeling myself forced harder into the bars. My eyes defiantly slam shut, and her nails dig into me harder than before. I cough out in pain, as I feel a sickness creep into my stomach. I resist, trying to jerk out of grip. I pull and tug, only to feel more pain, and now nausea.

My eyes open with tears welled in them. My eyes go back to the brunette, who waits for my eye contact before smiling big again. I inexplicably let out a whimper, and feel the blonde eat it up.

"Awww, be a little good boy then." Whispering in my ear.

"Fuck you." I hear myself thru grit teeth.

"Does this still feel like a game?"

I pull my arms back, and push away from the bars with what strength I have. She still has a tight grip, and this is the worst decision I've made so far.

The pain stops all strength causing me to let go. I'm forced back into the bars. She has such a tight grip; I'm literally putty in her hands. She knows I still want to fight, and holds me tight with both hands.

The brunette finishes her cheer by jumping up and down, screaming "Yeah!" repeatedly, pom poms flaring out around her. Her eyes, lasered into mine. 

Walking up to me, her face changing from overly happy to seductress confident. I'm completely helpless in her eyes. I give in; my body becomes one with the metal bars. The blonde's grip lessons, then slowly let's go.

The brunette saunters to me, dropping the pom poms, then gently grabbing my wrists, putting them over her head. I see the blonde disappear behind her as she grabs the door with both hands. 

She slowly dances backwards, I'm helplessly pulled along. Her eyes never leaving mine. I take small step after small step until I hear the door click shut. 

My eyes finally break from hers, looking for the blonde. The door.

The brunette stays in my arms. The door doesn't come to life. My eyes dart around looking for the blonde, who stays out of sight. She moves something towards her face.

I'm too slow, my eyes fall back into hers, I think I see her biting her lip, a smile starting. I'm too concerned about feeling that pain again to notice.

She leans forward; her eyes softly look up to me. My face isn't buying round two. She looms closer and closer, until my eyes betray me, breaking character. Her lips press into mine, and before I know it, our lips are locked.

For a brief moment she lets me have control. I engulf her lips, wanting so much. She pulls back from my aggressive start, allowing me to learn to slow to her pace. She shows me, slowly pulling me in, making her lips soft; teasing me by pulling away. She releases her grip on me and I feel something other than her tongue enter my mouth.

My eyes meet her in confusion. It's hard, a toy? A key?

She pulls away, smiling a Cheshire grin.

The key.

"Three...two...one." Her face changes to evil.

I jump back, confused. I hear the click, followed by the electric hum. My arms careful to not touch. I'm standing awkward, arms outstretched, kinda squatting to keep my sweatpants at my waist. Real attractive like.

The blonde comes back into sight, they stand together, giggling and laughing at the sight of me. With the key in my mouth, I can sense where this is going. 

"Ok, well we're going to go now." The brunette almost finishes without laughing. 

Of course.

I don't give them a response; I figure my face says it all. My eyes burn holes into both of them, I go as dark as these looks will allow. Both of them notice, and mock me.

"So mean."

The blonde faces me first.

"This was fun." She genuinely states before giving me a flirtatious smile. 

"Was it?" I ask with the key in my mouth, censoring my Iowan dialect. 

She looks at me with a "you know you liked it" face.

"Would have changed a thing or two." I say looking away.

She reaches thru the bars and strokes my face, looking at me until my eyes match hers. I feel her nails gently scratch my beard.

"Maybe next time." She smiles at me, then turns and walks out of sight.

"I hate you." I call out sarcastically.

The brunette kneels down and picks up her pom poms, then strolls over to me.

"You hate me too?"

I stifle out a legitimate laugh, almost choking on the key. It's the absurdity of it I tell myself. My face must tell all.

"I see." She continues, "Well, I like you."

"Do you now?' I say with my tongue handicapped by the key.

"I mean that. Maybe it's crazy, no, I know it's crazy. There's something about you."

I feel her hand touch my face, holding my gaze. Her stare looks through me, studying my soul. Our eyes hold onto each other, and I feel like I can release years of pain into hers, not breaking from her. Her face welcomes this, her eyes blink, and on a different level other than conversation she understands me without words. 

Crazy. 

What am I saying? What am I believing?

"Heh, maybe we're both crazy." She says, her hand slowly leaving my face.

"We're all crazy." I rush out, not wanting her touch to leave. My face turns towards her fleeting touch. 

It pauses her momentarily, long enough for another questioning look. I stand stoic, not embarrassed of how I look. 

"Some more than others, Mr. Masochist."

"It's just an act." I state without hesitation. "I'm interested in the truth. The true you."

I hear her respond without words. Her face brightens, as she looks into my eyes questioning. After a moment of studying, her face changes to seductress.

"I'm afraid that's all you're going to get."

She starts to walk with a childlike bounce. Stopping, she looks back, flipping her skirt up at me.

"For today."

The last thing I see is her coy smile before she disappears out of view.

"I hate you." I say loud enough only I can hear.

"No you don't!" She calls back to me.

That was for me. My heart skips, surprised by the attention to detail. Her knowing me. 

In the distance the cart starts up, and drives away until it's nothing. I spend the next ten minutes slowly pulling my arms back, fishing the key from my mouth to a hand, dropping it, twice. Then finally freeing my left hand, then my right before dropping the handcuffs outside the cell. 

I can only pace in frustration. Adrenaline. Energy. So excited, turned on, frustrated, turned on. What was that!? What the fuck just happened?

A distraction. 

Immediately all my perverted memories from minutes ago are now tainted. Unusable material for later. I ride a roller coaster of emotion, unable to understand or separate myself from someone above this game. Today was their attempt at reprogramming. Get me to fall back onto my old crutches.

Slightly hurt, was any of her words true? The ones that mattered, the "something about you" line. Searching back, it was the only real foundation of a bridge at this point. Why would my dumbass believe any of what either has to say? How could someone who considers himself smart, be so blatantly stupid in the face of reality.  

Buying into their characters, are you, rube? These soap opera actors. These agents of chaos.

Then there's a moment. A flash image of the three of us. Embracing. Being one.

It's just a flash, but I see it clear. I see it like I've lived it already. Just not here. I see it as natural, right.

It stops my torment momentarily. Stopping my ego from berating my heart. My brain hates me.

I can't get a hold on today. Such a whirlwind. What happened to the day? I was lost for so long, only to end up more confused.

Self depreciating, or so I've been told. It's now I see how crazy I am. I'm questioning my true feeling towards my captors. Actual Stockholm syndrome. 

My cell is dark when my eyes return me back to my present settings. Literally just lost a day. Guess that happens on vacation?

Tell yourself that curling up in the sleeping bag, hiding away from the cold night creeping in. I'm not tired; my eyes find their way to the stars above. So clear, so quiet. 

So peaceful, no noise, no light pollution from society. Nothing to fix out here, a maintenance man's dream. I could die out here, literally. If my dumbass keeps playing my cards right, keeps wanting more from these "she devils". My brain argues amongst itself, and I just want to check out. Just want to enjoy something in this life. 

Not think about how it's made, who backed it, supported it, whose paying for it?

These questions before I can even make breakfast each morning. Why can't things just be honest?

Rhetorical question idiot. Honesty exposes more than we're programmed to accept. There is less money to go around if the world only knew everything about everything they loved. We wouldn't love those things as much, and money is driven by want. Everything, every material possession in front of you is its own money making business. 

Some company directing endless funds to keep us wanting, needing their product. Without that want, without that need for everything they're selling, we become disconnected from years of programming, advertising. 

Tonight, was just business. Just they're type of business. 

How many cameras recorded today? How or for what purposes is it going to be used for? Was the whole performance an act? Her words? The brunette.

These questions pelt me, as I slowly numb them out. Stop thinking a voice in my head states. My eyes get heavy, and I can't tell if they're open before I'm asleep.