On the couch.

The shrill ring of the telephone broke the silence as the late afternoon sun peaks through the slats of the blinds. Startled out of her slumber, Jori sat up and began a frantic search for the phone. On the fifth ring she answered, "Hello?" her voice crackled.
"Hey baby." A voice she knew too well came across the line. "Did I wake you?"
"Yeah," she grumbled. "What do you want Blake?"
"Hmmm, what are you wearing?" she could hear the sneer in his voice.
"Oh, Blakey, you know I sleep naked." she replied sarcastically adding, "Always ready and willing for you, you fuck."
He laughed, "You were at one time, baby. Now get up." He got serious. "I have a job for you today."
She groaned, "What kind of job?" she inquired.
"A great one, I'll explain when I pick you up. I'll be by in thirty minutes to get you. Dress for sex."
When he arrived he had on his business attire; a tank top, jeans and a leather waistcoat. He looked her up and down.
"Did you trim the hedges?" he asked using his finger to lift up her skirt slightly. She pulled away.
"Yes! God, I hate you." She said in disgust.
"Just makin sure you'll be what he asked for." he said flippantly.
"So, who am I doing? Some connisseur of call girls?" She asked sarcastically as she locked the door to her small studio apartment.
"He said his name was Mr. Boucher. He was very specific as to the type of girl he wanted; young, brunette, no drugs, and no scars." he elaborated. So, naturally, I thought of you."
"Oh great! So, I can't even get a little kick?" she asked because a knot formed in her stomach everytime she had to meet a new client.
"Absolutely not! You are the cleanest girl I got and this guy means business. He paid upfront, three thousand." He smiled when he saw her jaw drop open.
"What?? What is he want me to do?" her voice became a tad high pitched. "I am not gonna do some crazy shit."
"Jori, you are going to do whatever he wants you to, you got me?" he shouted.
"But, Blake, I..." she felt nauseous, a sense of dread made her heart pound.
They pulled up to a gate that enclosed a large house. It could have been a mansion for all Jori knew. Blake pushed a buzzer and they were allowed in after a minute.
"You know, I have been very good to you." he began in a calm yet, intimidated voice. "But, if you fuck this up, I will have to hurt you . And make no mistake, I will find a way to sell you with a mask on your face." they pulled around a circular drive to the front door.
"Okay, but.." she whimpered as he pushed her towards the door of the car.
"Get out, Jori!"
She did as she was told. She couldn't feel more sleazy than she did walking up the elegant marble steps to the front door.
At the top, she glanced back for some kind of support from Blake. But, he had already started to drive off.
Thanks, she thought. The door opened before she got a chance to knock. And she turned, startled, to face an older woman dressed in a starched charcoal grey uniform. The woman looked at her with an obvious distaste of Jori's attire.
"Come!" she snapped, opening the door wider. "If you are late he will be displeased." she said with a thick accent.
The room was so dark that Jori had to stop for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust. The candles in the sconces on the wall were the only sources of light. The windows were covered in heavy drapery.
Jori was so enthralled with the ornate furniture and exquisite artwork, that she didn't mind that she was led in silence by the stern woman.
The room they ended up in was a large banquet room that was mostly empty but for several theater chairs in a semi circle around what looked like a cross between an altar and a chaise lounge.
She was instructed stand in the center of the room in front of the "couch" as the older woman called it. Strangely, she felt as though she was waiting to see the school principal.
Jori became aware that she was being watched. Though she was becoming tired of standing in the same spot, she was too afraid to move for fear she may upset someone.
Nearly a half hour later, a spot light clicked on her. She squeaked in pain as she was momentarily blinded.
"Undress!" a voice commanded from a speaker above her. She hesitated. "Now!" it reminded her of a dark overlord in a space movie she had scene as a child. She complied.
When she had removed all her clothing she stood covering her privates in a demure manner.
"Lie down on th couch."
She did. The couch was made of a material like leather, and though it felt soft, it made her realize she had begun to sweat. She brushed her hair from her brow, and a pair of hands came through the darkness seizing her hands pulling them above her head. "Wha..?" She gasped in surprise. Her wrists were shackled.
Jori looked up to try to see who had grabbed her. A young man, well-built and dressed in a pair of bondage shorts, collar and cuffs, walked to the end the couch. He put her ankles in shackles as well.
"I don't like this." she said. The man looked at her, shook his head and put a finger to his lips. "Shh!"
She heard whispers and looked towards the chairs and, though the bright light made them hard to see, she saw people in them.
Not understanding what was happening, Jori's mouth went dry, she felt as though she was about to be sacrificed. Her fear became founded when she looked at the bondage man and saw a short blade in his hand. It looked ancient and very elaborate.
"Oh god!" her horror at the possiblities apparent in her voice. The young man slapped her face. When she looked at him stunned he shook his head again, shushing her.
"You must cooperate, morsel, the vessel will only do what is required of him. So, you should relax and enjoy" The deep raspy voice said as if that would appease her mounting fear. "Rand?" Rand looked towards the back of the room standing at attention like a soldier.
"You may begin."
Jori whimpered as she watched Rand raise the blade to her wrist, she felt the prick of the blade barely touching her skin. Rand ran the tip down the length of her arm, careful to only just break the skin. There was hardly any pain. He continued down her side, stopping when he reached her hip making a swirling motion.
She had her eyes shut tight the entire time. But, when he moved around her to repeat the process along the other side she watched the entire time. She held her breath, eyes wide, expecting him to thrust the knife into her or sever an artery, for the enjoyment of the attending audience.
She could see tiny beads of blood raise in his stead, quickly congealing and leaving thin ribbons of crimson.
Rand surprised her by laying the knife on her flat stomach. The coldness of the blade made her sigh as she closed her eyes again. He kissed her navel, flicking his tongue against the tip of the metal. His tongue was warm, tickling her hip as he began licking at the ribbons of blood at her hip. Jori opened her eyes to see the top of his head dip down towards her nether region. Her skin crawled in the anticipation of his attention.
She let out a small cry when he bit one inner thigh, then the other. When he kissed her intimately she felt the warm flush of intense excitment, like nothing she had felt before. Her clit throbbed, burgeoning from its small hood, beckoning his suckling. He complied. His hand lay ontop of the hilt of the blade pressing the tip ever so gently into her abdomen, nicking the skin enough to bring pain. Her head fell back, and she arched against his hand as her climax came closer. She was barely aware that he removed the dagger from its resting spot, until he removed his mouth from pleasuring her.
Jori glanced at Rand through heady eyes, she saw him holding the blade with the butt down towards her arousal. She shook her head, afraid he would carve out a souvenir. He looked up at her and licked his lips and gave her a devilish grin. He used the butt to rub against her clit, and then pushed it into her. A low chanting came from the nothing behind the people watching her.
"Hmmm!" she sang through her clenched lips, unable to squirm away from his probing fingers or escape the cold, hard phallus. Rand was sweating, his grunts becoming louder which each thrust of the hilt, as if he had entered her himself. His face became distorted; red, and bulging. Veins became prominent on his forehead and in his neck. Her release came swift and hard, causing her to scream in ecstasy, her body writhing against her bonds.
Before Jori had even finished her orgasm, she heard clapping. The audience had enjoyed the show. She, then, looked down at her bizarre lover, to see he had ran the knife into his abdomen. "Oh My God!" she cried out through tears full of revulsion. She began to pull at the straps to try to get away from the horror manifesting before her eyes. The blood flowed from the gash in slow motion. He cut a deep wound on his wrist, lifted the laceration to his lips and drank deeply. His eyes rolled up, and he made a deep, guttural sound.
The group had come closer to them, still applauding them. They had a nightmarish quality, reminding her of scary movies she'd watch as a child, like zombies coming in for the kill. The looks on their faces bore adoration, as if Rand had become a golden god ready to grant their every wish.
Her eyes darted around the room, but her vision was impaired by the bright light, all she saw was darkness beyond. The group fell on him, licking the blood from him. Their moaning sounded surreal.
"No, no, no, no,..." Jori's hysteria began to rise.
"Enough!" The voice on the loud speaker pronounced. They all stood and stared into the darkness, blood covering their chins, as attentive as pupils in class. The only sound left in the room was Jori's ragged panting, but even she found herself staring up, unmoving.
"Rand, I know you want to enjoy your release before the ceremony, but we mustn't ignore the morsel. Save it for her." Jori let out a sob.
"Child," the voice took on a soothing tone, "this will all be over soon."
"No,no...please, I don't like this. I.."
"Nonsense, you will see, you've become a part of something bigger than you, bigger than all of us. You should be pleased you were chosen to be the first that Molok recieves for his return. I know Rand feels empowered to be the vessel for him."
Rand had moved back next to Jori, knife no longer in hand. She looked at him, his wound were gone. She looked into his eyes, pleading. Jori realized the group had returned to their seats.
"Please, I don't want to die." Her mouth was dry, she attempted to lick her lips but her tongue had become sandpaper. The look he returned was sympathetic at best. His eyes became blood shot, she gaped at how blue they had become. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, as before her eyes the unbelievable took place.
Rand's face distorted, elongated, became swollen. His mouth became more pronounced, his teeth seemed to grow to twice their size. His breathing came out in choking gasps, harsh and wet. He cried out.
She began to wonder why she was still conscious. The confoundment of the lunacy going on around her should have been too much, a long time ago.
That was it, she thought, I have gone insane. Because this can't be real. It has to be a hallucination. Some fucked up john gave me something that is making my mind mush, she rationalized. Because there is no way that this guy that she had just had sex with, albeit bizarre and depraved, could be changing into ... what was it? A wolf? A beast? He still stood like a man. Yet, with saliva dripping down in thick strands from what was now his muzzle. His eyes, which had momentarily rolled back, focused back on her. His tongue, which remained thick like a humans though vilely longer, licked his chops. A growl emaninated from deep in his chest. His breath rumbled from him so fiercely, she could feel it rattle through her. Her heart hammered, drumming in her ears.
"Mmm, morsel," He spoke in a thick, sticky voice. "I can still taste you. Your pounding heart brings your sweet scent to the surface." He leaned his head down, inhaling deeply as he nuzzled her neck. A small, weak sounding squeak escaped her.
He felt real, his heat seared her cold skin. He had become immense; everything, she noticed, about him was exaggerated and enormous. He had become a dark god, ready to feast on all around him. She knew there would be no escape from the couch she was chained to. And she knew, right then, that she was going to die. Painfully.-


On the drive home, Blake felt a twinge of guilt. He liked Jori. She was a good kid. But, that was just it. Good kids didn't survive the streets, and they most certainly don't get off the streets.
He'd done her the favor, really. The money Boucher had given him, (ten thousand, not three like he'd told Jori) would come in handy. He needed to recruit a few new girls and he needed to buy a new wardrobe. So, the fact that he'd sold her to that guy (he didn't even want to know why.)didn't bother him for too long.-