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ladyinatower
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 Posted: Mon Oct 21, 2019 5:56 am Post subject: Instructions Not Included |
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Prologue: Regrets
Everyone has regrets. Hands shaking as they gather up the small plant on their desk, careful to nestle it safe by bundling up some paper into a ball and supported by the various small container for the pens . Burdens. Notices on rent being due were sitting at home, the dates circled and underlined on the desk calender on the ridiculously small box. Responsibilities or duties. Opening a worn wallet, to give a handful of notes and some odd change amid the coupons and pieces of plastic that seemed so useless now in exchange for some instant noodles. Dreams they could never touch. Apples so ripe and beautiful on the display seemed like a feast. It seemed worth exchanging the last of the precious cash in the slim wallet for the treat. The light weight of a bag with two items so easy to add to the small box of things that had set on a desk for the last three years. We are born with the knowledge that things could always be worse, its remainders are everywhere. A homeless man, dressed in rags clinging to a cat, their wizened face drawn into a thousand regrets as he clang to an empty cup. There was no money to give, but who knew how long before bills that could not be paid saw another box sitting next to them? Fingers traced the smooth flesh of the apple, the loud noise of a growling stomach echoing in the air, the mans eyes lingering on the apple as the grip on it tightened almost as if to draw it back, no voice escaped him, just eyes looking at the apple and the hand that held it, not asking, just...a hungry look that for some reason saw the apple freely given sharing even though there truly was little to share.
What’s the point of complaining? Footsteps hurried as the night grew darker, the city more dangerous, especially in this part of town where the rent was cheap and the rooms cheaper. The sound of other footsteps and the sight of a large figure had the sounds of heeled shoes clicking faster, faster, faster down the pavement but still the other figure kept getting closer, the smell of alcohol mingling with cat calls and veiled threats. Turning down a short cut, a scream rent the air, quickly cut off by a fat hand, other stronger hands joining them, the weight dragging them backwards. The smell of alcohol and the sweet stench of other drugs was stronger now. Heels kicked out, hands struggling to reach for a small black canister, the box filled with remnants of broken dreams clattering to the ground unheeded now. What’s the point of wishing? The struggle that followed was all too brief, practically hopeless when three gathered against one, and soon visions of red faced men their voices slurred as they spit ugly words with their spittle that splattered across pale skin. Yet humanity never knew when to give in even when it was hopeless, so still arms and legs fought, until they were pinned down by two large forms, the feel of brick against their back confirming the reality of sweaty hands going under a knee length black skirt, tearing the white blouse to reveal the ratty bra, far from its usefulness to the air. The sound of whimper broke the darkness but it wouldn’t bring help.
Yet if I could have just one...just one wish… Eyelids squeezing shut as the unwanted weight of a man rubbed their flabby fat body against mine. I could not stop them now. There was a sick certainity that this perhaps was inevitable. But I didn’t have to watch. They couldn’t force me to watch as the sound of a zipper seemed so loud in the alley. If I could have… Sending the wish to the sky, the pain of being slammed against a brick was almost more welcome than the sound of curses, and the sting forcing eyes open to look up towards the sky, numbness settling in before the sharp pain repeated this time accompanied by the sickening sensation of something warm and hard trying to force itself between legs that were squeezed tight even as large hands shoved them apart, intent on getting wanted they wanted despite pathetic horror that tried to resist the strength of three. Braced for a different sort of pain, the sting of a beefy hand backhanded across the face was unexpected, the taste of blood iron and tangy across taste buds, it really wasn’t any wonder that imagination summoned the sounds of footsteps amidst the loud ringing that muffled the sounds of hot pants that brought bile to mix with the taste of blood.
Just one wish….
It must have been simple wistfulness that imagined the heard a grunt of protest as a weight that had been pressing down was suddenly jerked away. The sounds of a fight, fists landing solid against flesh, muffled curses, was so loud, brick scrapping bare skin, legs bowing onto ground still wet from the rang, head so heavy, body falling backwards against the wall, unsupported, released from hands that bruised only moments before. But...as darkness descended...that really didn’t seem to matter...after all what was the point of hoping...one wish..and there was no more.
….
A fan was on circulating air, the sight of an uncracked white ceiling, disappearing once as eyes blinked confused. Sitting up the sensation of a wet cloth hitting skin seemed to be the least of more pressing concerns as consciousness took stock. Sitting on an actual, soft something noted, bed. Brightly colored walls, furniture, clean air. Not home then, logic concluded. The sound of a dog barking from beyond the closed door of the room and the sound of a neighborhood slowly coming to wakefulness as bare feet hit the floor. Legs woobly as hands were thrown out to maintain balance as feet stumbled towards an open bathroom door where guest towels hung up opposite a shower, a sink, a mirror, and the current pressing goal of a moment, a toilet without a ‘please pull for assistance cord hanging on the wall’. Not a hospital then. Hands shoving down underwear as legs bent sprawling at odd angles as body sat desperate for pressing relief. Cursing as weakness, dizziness and orientation caused warm yellow fluid to coat legs instead of filling the bowl. Figuring out what had happened suddenly seemed less important as stumbling into the shower, tossing ruined underwear on the floor with a hastily grabbed towel to soak up the mess that would have to be cleaned eventually.
It must be the lingering feelings of unease that made their body feel so strange. So gangly. So uncoordinated. It must be the horror of the night before that made it feel so smooth and strange as soap was applied across skin. Thin hands and long elegant fingers slipped down, down, down...down…
And a scream rent the air.
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ladyinatower
Tourist
Joined: 08 Oct 2019
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| Posted: Mon Oct 21, 2019 5:56 am Post subject: |
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Chapter 1: Down the Rabbit Hole
Alyse looked down at the...the...the...Thing!...in her...well...their...his?...her? hand? She may be an over thirty year old virgin but she had seen enough dicks in her life to be fairly certainly that that...that was a dick. But it couldn't be a dick. And if it was a dick, it couldn't possibly be real. No. This was just one of her rare super real dreams or nightmares. All she needed to do was to wake up. That's it! IF she woke up, the thing in her hand would be gone, she wake up in her own bed in her own room, and everything would be fine.
Shoving her head under the falling water of the shower, Alyse willed herself to wake. Wake up! Wake up!
Just as she was about to start pinching herself awake, the sound of a door slamming into a wall caused her startle, slipping slightly in the shower before she regained her balance one hand on the wall and one desperatly grasping the shower curtain. She managed to stay upright, but the momentum left her standing exposed to the person who know stood in the doorway, back lit from the sunlight that was streaming through the open window of the bedroom beyond like some freaking movie reel.
In a other circumstances, Alyse decided, as she watched his eyes widen as he took in the situtation, she would have found the man handsome. However as she stood naked in the shower, almost completly exposed, it was a good thing that...the...the...thing and her lower half was covered by the shower curtain but the man, who was now...was that...yes that was most defintely a blush, got a very good glimpse of her currently very flat and almost uncomfortably skinny torso.
"Umm...Sorry, sorry, sorry," turning quickly the man grabbed a towel, and shoved it her general direction eyes squeezed tightly shut. "I heard a scream and fearing the worst I came running...I didn't want you getting hurt again."
At this point, Alyse distantly registered a high pitched half squeal which caused the man to wince, placing his hands over his ears. She recongized it as her own voice. Grabbing the towel, she wrapped around herself quickly and did what she normally did best: blindly panic.
"Who are you! What do you want! Did you kidnap me?!? I don't have any money you know and know one cares if I'm dead or alive...not that you should kill me, you defitenly shouldn't do that! Please, please don't hurt me!" There wasn't anywhere to run, not with him blocking the only exit with his muscular self, but she tried to anyway, scrambling as far back in the shower as she could as she continued to plead for her life.
Her panic was what finally got the man to open his arms, holding his hands up and out in a universal gesture of harmlessness, and he approached her hands up, speaking in soothing tones like one would do for a child or a scared animal. "Hey, hey, now it's okay. No one is going to hurt you. We are here to help."
"We?" she squealed trying to back away from the man even as he took one more step closer to her. "Oh God there is more than one of you! You are going to beat me or rape me aren't you? Some sort of college frat thing no doubt. Not going to hurt me my ass, like I trust you! I don't even know you, hey, watch what you doing, don't touch me!" As a manly hand grabbed her chin forcing her to look into eyes as dark and a soothing as midnight, their color a warm rich brown, the color of chocolate and carmel or a really good cup of coffee.
"Stop that." he snapped, jerking her chin back up as she tried to look anywhere else but his strangely hypnotic eyes, forcing her to look back up. "Look at me. Come on. Look at me."
There was something in his voice. Something that made her open her eyes and look.
"We. Are. Not. Going. To. Hurt you." He said slowly soothingly, something flashing golden in his eyes as his voice took on a warm quality. "We are here to help. We mean you no harm. I will not say...trust me...but I hope you will give us the oppurunity to earn your trust. Now sweetie. Stop panicking. Breath. You are a safe. You are protected. You don't need to be afraid. You are safe. Safe."
The panic that had been clawing at her throat slowly died down with each word. And despite every piece of logic and crime drama that she had ever watched in her lifetime telling her otherwise, somehow...she did feel safe. Somehow she believed that this man wouldn't harm her. In fact, something instictual, something far deeper than fear told her that if any one tried to harm her while she was in his care, then they would be the ones that should be afraid. Not her. So she took a deep breath, and nodded.
"There you go. Now I'm sorry you woke up along but me and Leo were scrambling to find you some clothes that we hope will fit. They are probably going to be a bit big, but they are sweatpants and a t-shirt with a hoodie, big is generally the accpetable fit with clothes like that. I didn't think you would want our underwear though...." He shrugged dropping his hand and shoving back an uruly lock of jet. "So I'm afraid you are going to have to go commando for a while. Why don't you get dressed and we will explain everything over a nice hot breakfast, hmmm?"
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Chinaren
Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005
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Novelest_Ninjagirl
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| Posted: Mon Oct 28, 2019 7:50 pm Post subject: |
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Pretty interesting! I'll be honest, reading the prologue was distorted and jumbled enough that I struggled with telling what POV the story was going to be when it settled out. I'll admit to some selfish relief that it isn't first person! The prologue did a good job of establishing how out of sorts she already felt, even before what's going on now.
Only tiny thing I noticed was:
| Quote: | | a toilet without a ‘please pull for assistance cord hanging on the wall’. |
Pretty sure the second apostrophe should be after 'assistance'.
Slightly sad to see this moved into linear, would've been fun to engage with this story as an SG.
I am curious as to what prompted this change, and how lasting it is. Also what it is that makes these rescuers just that. Why did they help her, and why are they compelling her to be calm? I'd like to like them but my sketch-o-meter is still pinging.
_________________
My latest SG! (Image courtesy of the lovely Lebrenth)
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