He was in a basement that he didn’t want to be in, with a
girl he wasn’t interested in, at a party that he wasn’t invited to, hosted by
someone, he didn’t particularly care for. The elements combined to form a
situation so perfectly unpleasant that he couldn’t believe it. She had trapped
him. She had convinced his friends to bring him along. He was going to spend
the night the same way he spent the last three nights. By staying up late
playing video games and texting the girl he met at the movies last month when
he moved back in town, instead he was trapped like a captive slave. They had
history and it was that history, combined with his newfound friend, that caused
him to lose interest in her and if he was in this situation about a month ago,
he probably wouldn’t be trying weasel his way out of it.
“Christ
Kaitlyn! What the hell are you even doing here!?” he exclaimed, focused more on
finishing what was left of his drink than her actions. “Don’t you have work in
the morning? You should be at home in bed, not stalking me around this shitty
party!”
He
continued cursing her as he stumbled down the stairs in a half drunken rage.
She had purposely bumped him causing him to spill most of his drink all over
his shirt and pants. She then rushed him towards the basement, telling him that
she was really good friends with the host and that she wouldn’t mind if she
washed his clothes really quickly. He protested claiming to just want to go home.
He really didn’t care where he went, anywhere was better than where he was now.
“I’m so
so sorry Blakie-poo.” she feigned an apology. “Go over towards that corner”,
she pointed deeper into the basement, “there’s a washer and dryer over there.”
She was
still trying to make it all seem accidental and she was trying too hard. If Blake
hadn’t been drinking, he probably would have caught on and just left. He wasn’t
entirely drunk either. He was sober enough to know what was going on, yet just
inebriated enough that he couldn’t do anything about it. He definitely wasn’t
the life of the party either so it’s not as if anyone would notice that he was
missing. He had no escape.
“Christ!”
he exclaimed again, “I can’t see a damn thing down here, and I’ve told you
about calling me that”
He didn’t dare attempt to try to
get his phone out to use it as a light source. With his luck he’d fumble it and
kick into some dark crevice, never to be seen again. Instead he stood there and
waited for something to happen. Kaitlyn had disappeared and he hadn’t noticed
it, he was too focused on exploring the bottom of his cup. Perhaps he had
realized the futility of his situation and hoped he could escape mentally since
there was no physical way out. It was a hopeless effort, he reached the bottom
of his cup and it left him more disappointed and unsatisfied than the party
did.
“Damn” he muttered to himself as he
tossed the empty cup to the ground. Noisily, it bounced around the cold
concrete floor for a few seconds before it fell silent. He could still hear the
music and chatter from the party, muffled by insulation and actually desired to
return despite how out of place he felt up there. Suddenly, after what felt
like an eternity, lights started to flicker on and the first thing he noticed
was Kaitlyn standing before him, half-naked. He quickly looked away, surveying
the now lit basement so as to not give her the attention that she so
desperately wanted. It was a cozy little basement and apparently someone’s
living quarters. A television sat in the far corner atop a stack of milk crates
and across from it was a foldout couch with Kaitlyn’s clothes slung over the
back of it. Several outfits hung from the pipes and supports and trash
cluttered the floor around the couch. Beside him also, just as Kaitlyn
indicated, was an old washing and drying unit that appeared to be from the dark
ages.
“You don’t have to look away, I
want you to see me” She said seductively.
He tried to continue looking away
but couldn’t. He had looked at and observed everything in the room but her.
Kaitlyn was neat and cleanly groomed from head to toe. She was in a colorful, flowery lace
undergarment set that stood out against her pale freckled skin. It was very
girly and made him feel childish and embarrassed. Her hair, a blazing red, fell
neatly on her pale shoulders like a tower of flames burning beautifully atop a
valley of clouds (if that makes any sense). Her eyes were a deep oceanic blue.
Her body was solid and sleek, her features finely carved out. She bore her body in all its perfection,
shamelessly before him.
Blake was on the complete opposite
end of the spectrum. He had long wirey blonde hair that he constantly had to
brush out of his face and usually held it in place with a hat or bandanna. His
eyes were a mesmerizing green and his face devoid of any blemish. He was of
average height and had a well built frame. He worked out and it showed but not
so much that he was extremely muscular, just enough that he looked in shape.
Kaitlyn walked towards him and
began tugging at his clothes. “What do you think you’re doing?” Blake slurred, swatting
at her hands.
She urged him to take off his
clothes and he continued to refuse, but it wasn’t until she started pulling his
clothes off that he realized that he was too drunk to resist. The alcohol hit
him and he was a bit happy that it did. Everything became a blur. He couldn’t
think straight, or even stand up straight for that matter. He stumbled around and faintly felt himself
being guided across the room. The room began to spin, colors and lights began
to swirl together. He collapsed on the couch, hands holding his throbbing head.
Kaitlyn climb on top of him as he slurred forth one last futile attempt at
resistance. The blurring intensified and made his stomach turn. He tried looking
away from the lights, from Kaitlyn to no avail. Closing his eyes, he found that
it made things slightly better. He shut them tight, and did not open the for
the remainder of the night.
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