Chapter Eight
June 21st, 11:15 PM
"Well, there you have it," Sunny said, with an annoying girlish giggle. "Looks like your friend Margot is going to come through for us after all."
Erin gave Sunny the most ferocious glare her compromised situation could muster. Not that she could muster much: once more she was bound across Sunny's sawhorse, her bare arms and legs roped to the table's wooden arms and legs, her speech impeded by a large red ball-gag. The thugs had garbed her in frilly pink lingerie, presumably to make her abject state that much more undignified. The outfit certainly hadn't reduced Sunny's desire to slap her upraised, vulnerable ass.
Sunny set the phone down on a desk next to Erin's other gear: her mask, her gloves and boots, her utility belt. All of her weapons were so tantalizingly close. She just needed one minute alone, one minute to get herself together, and she could break free. But after days in Sunny's captivity, the hope of escape had diminished to a small flicker. The thugs, the drugs, the bondage: they weren't giving the Blue Lynx an inch. It was like Sunny had been taking notes during their previous encounters. She wasn't going to screw this one up.
"I want to thank you again for being so forthcoming," Sunny said. "Seeing you fight to hold on to that password... Oh my God... It was almost too much to handle!"
Erin rolled her eyes. They had tried to beat her phone's code out of her, and it hadn't worked. Despite everything she'd been through, Erin stayed tough: she didn't want to get Margot involved in this, even if it meant her chances of freedom increasing. But once Sunny had injected her with the truth serum, her efforts to fight back were null. After raging against the effects of the drug for minutes, she finally broke down. The password came from her lips in halting, breathless syllables. It had made the thugs cheer. The bastards.
"I want to reward our subscribers for being so patient with us," Sunny said. "We've got about forty people who have signed up, you know? I think they deserve a special reward for their patronage."
Forty people? Erin hadn't heard Sunny give a number yet. It was probably a lie.
"So here's what's going to happen. Tomorrow: I'm going to fight you."
Erin looked up at her. This was the most intriguing thing Sunny had said in... days?
"That's right," Sunny continued. "I'm putting my money where my mouth is. I'm taking you on, Erin Steele, and I'm taking you down."
"Mmph mmph mmph," Erin said. She meant: fat chance.
"Sorry, I couldn't make that out," Sunny said. "You're going to have to speak up."
Erin sighed through the ball gag. Sunny smiled and picked up her walkie talkie. "Take her back to the cell," she barked.
Minutes later, two thugs burst through the door. They nodded at Sunny and began unwrapping the ropes around Erin's arms and legs. Erin didn't bother looking up, or trying to fight back: she'd been in this situation many times already, and knew there was no chance of escaping. They'd efficiently do their work, stopping only for seconds to ogle her chest or brush against her backside, and then they'd take her away, back to her cell, where once again she'd wait. And wait. And wait.
They lifted her from the table and posed her on the dolly, tying her arms behind the metal handle with the old rope. She coughed weakly as they removed the ball-gag and tossed it on the table alongside her weapons. She could smell their foul breath, hear their small chuckles, and almost taste their lust. These things were always awful: there was no getting used to them.
"Better rest up, Erin," Sunny said, as the guards pushed her out the door and into the brightly-lit hallway. "You've got another big day tomorrow."
"Yeah," one of the thugs whispered, once they were out of Sunny's range. "And an even bigger night tonight."
Erin blinked. She tried to turn around to face the man pushing the cart, but their wasn't enough give.
"What the hell does that mean?" she said.
The guards laughed together. "Come on," one of them said. "Use your imagination, Steele girl."
That was the precise thing that Erin did not want to do, at that moment.
"We've been doing this for half a week now," the other one said. "And I still don't think you remember us."
Erin shook her head. "Wait," she said, half-joking. "You guys are the same guys as before? Really?"
"We are," the thug continued. "And after tonight, you're never gonna forget it."
They arrived at the door of Erin's cell. One of the thugs punched in a keycode and pushed open the door. The other thug dragged the dolly in backward. He placed the cart and its prisoner in the middle of the room, so that Erin could see the men's faces. Truly, they looked exactly like every other henchman she'd ever encountered. Big, dumb, and ugly.
The man on her right swung the cell door shut.
"We should go back and get the costume," the left man said.
"What?" the right one replied.
"The costume. The Blue Lynx costume. This will be a lot hotter if we get her dressed up."
"You don't think she's hot enough as it is? In her little pink undies?"
"Well, she is. But she doesn't look like the Blue Lynx, you know? I want to fuck the Blue Lynx."
Erin's eyes flashed. She reflexively pulled against the ropes binding her to the dolly. The cart shook and tottered on the ground, but nothing came loose. The thugs grinned at her effort.
"Dammit man," the right one said. "You gave the game away."
"So, that's what's happening tonight? You're going to rape me?" Erin said. She kept her voice as stern as her racing heartbeat would allow. "I thought you said Sunny wouldn't like that."
"Do you think we care what she wants?" the left one said. "That bitch has been promising us things from the start. We haven't got nothing."
"It's time to take what we deserve," the right one said.
"You don't deserve me, you pathetic morons," Erin said. Her voice was beginning to crack. She knew that if they attacked her, she'd have no way of defending herself. Her body would be theirs to use, however they pleased. She gulped. She had to keep talking.
"Don't take your high school insecurities out on me," she cried.
The men were unfazed. They kept leering at her, standing just inches away from her chest, their hands at their sides. She didn't recognize their faces, but she recognized that look. They had exactly one thing in mind.
"She's just so goddamn cute when she's angry," the right one said.
"I'm gonna get the costume!" the left one said. "I just have to have her when she's the Blue Lynx."
"She already is the Blue Lynx, you idiot! It's the girl that matters, not the fucking spandex!"
"No, you're wrong. It's the girl in the spandex that counts. I'm getting it."
The left one scrambled out of the cell, slamming the door behind him. The remaining thug watched him go and then turned to once again face his captive.
"He's a real freak," he said, taking a step closer to Erin. "His fantasy is a little more complicated than mine." He placed his hand on Erin's hip, flicking at the lace-trim of her panties. Erin snorted in disgust. She tried to jiggle his fingers off, but her movement only tightened his grip.
"Don't," she whispered, looking up and into the thug's eyes. He was staring at her lower body, his face a ectastic mixture of delight and menace.
"As for me," the man said, licking his lips. "I'm more than happy to fuck you in your lingerie..."
But just as the thug's fingers had hooked around her panties, seconds before he yanked them down her thighs, the cell door burst open. The second thug flew through the entrance, screaming, his whole body about six feet off the ground, and crashed into the wall, a trail of Blue Lynx supplies-- blue spandex, mask, boots, and utility belt-- raining down after him. The first thug turned around to see the Spaniel walk in, wiping his gloves off with dramatic flourish.
Erin gasped.
"Oh shit!" the thug yelled.
The Spaniel brought his hands down on his shoulders, pinched him until he howled, and then, with one clean, fluid motion, threw him up into the ceiling. The thug collided with the hard top of the cell and fell back to the floor, banging against the cement ground. He was immediately unconscious.
"Spaniel!" Erin cried. "You! But... how?"
The Spaniel gazed at her, inspecting her from head to toe, but with none of the animal desire that had motivated the thugs.
"What's going on here?" he asked. "Who are you? What are they doing to you?"
Erin paused. He really didn't recognize her. How much had he forgotten? And how had he gotten free?
"Just untie me, first," Erin said. "And I'll try to explain."
On to Chapter Nine
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