PillowFace (13 page)

Why
was
Buddy here? 

Buddy’s mouth, gagged with a hanky and
duct tape, pleaded muffled syllables as he was dragged into the room.  His hands were coupled together with the same kind of barbwire that had been used to bind Face to the chair.  Turbanface stopped long enough to shut the door.  The air became instantly dry and thick.  He turned to the masked men, and yelled something in their language.  The second one to his left nodded, turned around, and handed him something from the back of his pants. 

At first, he couldn’t tell what it was. Then Turbanface turned to Buddy, and forced him to take the object. In Buddy’s hands it was decipherable.

A camera. 

And, not the large, digital contraption Buddy had lugged around before they were all captured, this one was small, and had a longer, narrower lens.  Buddy shook his head, pleaded more muffled babbles and was struck by Turbanface’s fist for his efforts.  He shut up after that.  Under the camera’s base was a pistol grip and trigger.  With his wrists bundled together, he struggled to clasp his hand around the grip.  Once he’d managed that, he used his index finger to press the trigger.  The small device emitted a loud cranking sound as something thin and flimsy belted through it. 

Film. 

Turning to Face, scowling with twisted, black eyes, Turbanface said, “Your soldier, da one dey call Junior.  Before I cut out his tongue, and removed his jaw, he told me.”  Smiling, he waved a finger at him.  “I know you….You pretty boy.  You Face.”  Bending his finger, he outlined his own masked brown face with an elongated fingernail.  “Dey call you dhat.  Correct?”

He was, but said nothing. 

“It do be a handsome face.” Reaching to the sheath wrapped around his brown trousers, he removed a large blade nearly the size of a machete, jagged along one side and tarnished under thick rust. It would be sharp enough to cut, but too dull to do it quickly. 

Face knew where this was going. 

“I tink I will take dhat face.  Maybe, if I wear it I get bunches of girls…”  He turned to Buddy.  “Cut on de camera.” 

Reluctantly, Buddy obeyed. With a wince, he raised the camera to his eye as if it hurt him to do so. He pleaded Face’s forgiveness with his wide stare.  Face nodded, offering it, understanding this was nothing he could have prevented. 

  As Turbanface approached with the knife, he dragged Buddy behind him.  Making sure he kept the camera focused on the upcoming action.  Face swore he would not give them the benefit of screaming, or displaying the obvious amount of pain he was about to endure.  Bite his tongue off if he had to, but he would not scream, cry, or yell. 

They didn’t deserve to see his anguish.

He’d honored his promise almost all the way to the end. While the blade dug into his flesh, Turbanface used his jagged fingernails to pull the flapping skin. As if he was carving a Thanksgiving turkey, he cut and ripped and flayed. When the screams started coming, he did just what he swore he would. He’d clamped down on his darting tongue.  Gritting his teeth, feeling the warmth of blood flooding his mouth, he tasted its copper flavor. 

His silence angered Turbanface even more, so he dropped the knife on the dirt-cased ground and used both hands to tug what remained of his face away.  Many times, Face nearly passed out, but he’d willed himself to stay coherent.  He continued to stare back at the man, his gaze just as cold as the one he was receiving.  By the end of the lurid ordeal, he’d noticed Buddy’s scared, frantic expression had turned to one of anger and determination. 

Buddy’s sanity had slipped away behind the rolling lens. 

Then he woke up. 

No longer was he a captive in the improvised torture room, Pillowface now laid on a deflating air-mattress. Drenched in a veneer of frigid sweat, he could hear air hissing from his rubber bed.  His back nudged the concrete floor. The support and comfort was gone.  The bed was deflating; somehow he’d made it pop. 

He sat up with a grunt. 

Enraged. 

His vision had reddened, his heart was hammering.  His skull felt as if it were about to crack open. Every part of him tingled with perverse desires. He needed to hurt something, to punish something beautiful.  Briefly, he considered Haley, but shook her out of his mind.  Then he stood up and kicked the piece of shit bed.  Behind it sat his creation.  As much as he wanted to use it on something, it wasn’t quite complete, not yet, but it would be soon, so it’d have to wait.

Through the thin window ledges atop the wall, he saw night had come.  Where the moon sat and the stars twinkled, he guessed it was nearing ten. Out there he’d find what was needed. Opening the side door, his boots trampled over slices of pizza that had been wrapped in plastic wrap and left for him, then ran into the night. 

He had a good idea where he’d find what he was looking for.

(I)

At the point of liberation, Tonya curled her toes, arched her feet, and moaned as the orgasm pumped all through her. Going into convulsions, her body violently quaked with a pounding release.

Finished, she lay breathless a moment before pulling the sodden, penis-shaped device out of her clasping heat.  Its small, bunny-like ears vibrated, buzzing like a swarm of angry bees. She reached beside her on the bed, found the power box, and shut it off. The tiny motor died.  Her slippery wet body could feel its lingering, pulsating effects.

She smiled, satisfied. 

Her hair, mussed and knotted on the pillows, was saturated with sweat. Its condensation seeped down the nape of her neck. Tonya’s nipples were bloated and sore from the pinching and twisting she’d wreaked upon them. She’d imagined it had been Ray’s hands.  Contorting, pulling them, and causing just enough pain in the pleasure.  She’d even called out his name a few times, even though he hadn’t physically been there to hear it.  It would have been better had he been.  But, she wasn’t ready to cave in and let him have her, not just yet. 

That was the reasoning behind these quick releases, to prevent her from being seduced.  He’d been so nice to her lately that she was afraid of ruining it by fucking him.  He’d probably planned for it to happen tonight, but nope, she’d already taken care of it, and for the second time today.  The first had been a quick rub-out this morning.  This time, with her parents out for the evening, she’d taken her time.  Stripped down to nothing, sprawled out on the bed, used one hand to hold the toy in place, and the other to explore her vulnerable body. 

God how she had wished it was Ray. 

Soon
.

The impulses were coming more frequently. She’d relieved herself twice today and could already feel the inclination of an approaching third. Could she honestly have him come over knowing her parents would be gone for most of the night and
not
give in? 

Maybe, but she doubted it. 

She sat up, propping herself on her elbows.  She felt the warm after-effects trickling out of her. She shivered. Her panties hugged her left ankle.  She pulled them off, using the pink material to wipe herself dry.  After drenching them in her moisture, she wadded them into a ball, and climbed off the bed.  Her legs felt quivery, and it was difficult to walk.  She decided to leave the jackrabbit where it was on the bed and worry about washing it later. 

In the bathroom, she shut the door, and pushed the button on the knob inward to lock it.

(II)

Clean and fresh and soap free, Tonya shut off the shower.  She stepped out of the tub and stood on the carpeted bathmat, letting the droplets dribble off of her.  The steam puffed from her warm body.  Refreshed, she took a deep breath through her nose and slowly exhaled through her mouth. 

“Much better,’ she muttered.

She grabbed a towel and began drying. Leaning over, she let her soaked hair droop over her face, and scrubbed it with the towel.  Starting from the back, she worked her way to the tips. When she leaned up straight, she was dizzy for a moment.  Then she chucked the wet towel in the hamper beside the toilet.  Standing there naked, she brushed the tangles out of her hair. 

Once she was finished, she opened the bathroom door letting the steam expel from the bathroom like a heavy fog as she exited.  Turning the corner, she abruptly halted to a standstill. 

Her bedroom door was shut.

Hadn’t she left it open? 

She retraced her steps.  She’d used her panties to wipe up the after-cum on her inner thighs, she’d wadded them up, and thrown them in the hamper.  She hadn’t returned to the room at all until now.  She was sure about that. 
Well, that’s solves that, but if I didn’t, then who did?
  Her skin crawled, pushing up goose bumps.  Who
had
closed it?  She crouched over, covering her breasts and groin.  What could she use to hide her naked ass?
Fuck
, she realized,
not enough hands
. 
Maybe I should go back for a towel.
  She decided against that.  To get a towel, she’d have to go to the laundry room and take the clean ones out of the dryer since she’d used the last one.  The idea of wrapping her clean body in a towel from the dirty hamper grossed her out. 

If someone’s in there, let them have a good show before she kicked their ass.      

Could be Ray
, she thought, uncovering her body. He’d shown up while she was in the shower, ringing the doorbell, but she never came to answer, so he probably walked around the side of the house and saw the bathroom light on. Then he’d snuck in, the asshole. Smiling, she was almost positive that was what happened.  He’d let himself in.  Sly bastard.  But, why hadn’t he just surprised her in the shower? That seemed more likely than him going to her bedroom.   

She pictured him sprawled across her bed, naked, with a smile stretched across his face. “Come on in,” he would say. The image made her chuckle. 
             

The Jackrabbit. 

Approaching the door, she felt a heat of blush on her skin. She’d left it out, so he’d certainly seen it.
Oh well, that’s what he gets
. As she was about to open the door, she stopped.  Another thought struck her that wasn’t so fun and enthralling. 

What if Mom and Dad had come home early? 

Her warming skin went cold and clammy.  The scenario played out in her mind. 

Mom and Dad coming upstairs to let her know they’d decided not to go to the Martin’s cocktail party after the movie.  Dad’s indigestion had started acting up again.  Then they’d opened her door and saw the sex toy proudly displayed on the bed.  They were probably in there right now, waiting for her to come in. 

Oh God,
please don’t let it be that, anything but that.
 

A shadow of movement waved across the slit at the bottom of the door.  Someone was in there all right.  Grinding her teeth, she cracked the door open just enough for a peek through. She immediately found the bed. Where she’d left the Jackrabbit was empty. It had been moved, taken.  Small splotches of wetness, probably from her release, were spattered across the sheet. But, the toy that had brought it thunderously out of her was nowhere to be seen. 

“What the he…” Was all she managed to say before the door slammed shut against her skull.  The impact wedged her head between the door and frame.  Then it whisked open, allowing her to stagger into the room, dazed.  Her neck pounded furiously with pain. The currents traveled into her shoulders, making her arms feel useless. She tried raising them, but couldn’t get them to move at all.

She couldn’t wrap her scattered mind around what was happening.  There was a looming shape in the corner of her eye.  Massive, much taller than her, and thicker.  It lunged, and she saw the rubber penis for an instant.  It looked ridiculous floating there. But the humor quickly died in her throat when the cord tightened around it.

“No…”  She felt pressure against her skin, hindering her words and her oxygen intake.  Gagging, trying to inhale, she only rasped.  Her eyes bulged.  Then she was hoisted into the air, the coiled cord being used as a noose.  Her feet kicked out, desperately searching for something level to stand on. 

Tonya pawed at the constricting cord, but couldn’t slip her fingers behind it to grant her some slack.  Before her eyes rolled back into her head and hemorrhaged, she saw a quick glimpse of burlap, and one meaty arm being all that held her in the air by the cable. 

Her back arched as her lungs wadded like a paper bag. The cord sunk deeper into the thin flesh of her neck, forcing the veins to jut out like stems on cabbage leaves.  Her right arm became too heavy to hold, and dropped. The left instinctively stroked at the binding cable, becoming weaker by the second.  Thick strips of snot dangled from her nose, saliva dripping from her mouth.

Her muscles suspended the body lifelessly, swaying stock-still from his clutched hand. Then her bladder and bowels released, drenching the floor in urine and excrement.

She felt a last inkling of humiliation before feeling nothing more.

(I)

Haley and Carlee had no trouble finding somewhere to park.  From outside, the bookstore looked nearly deserted with many open parking spaces.  But, once they were inside the bookstore they discovered it was much more claustrophobic.  People roved all over, cramping and lining the walls, filling the seats of folding chairs, plus the reading couch Alan kept in the center of the store.

Haley was impressed by the size of the crowd. 

More nights like this, he won’t need that second job.  And, he wouldn’t have to put up with douche bags like Jonesey insulting him, either.   

They stopped at the refreshment table.  Carlee snatched a handful of butter cookies like someone who feared she’d never taste another.  Haley raided the coffee dispenser.  Filling her cup to the brim, she slopped in some creamer and sugar, using the provided thin red straw to stir it, then took a sip.  She smacked her lips to relish the taste.  Then she tilted the cup upward and gulped. 

With a mouthful of cookies, Carlee laughed. 

“What’s so funny?” asked Haley between swallows. 

“You.”

She lowered her cup.  Turning around, eyes narrowed to thin slits, she put on her best impression of Joe Pesci from
Goodfellas
.  “Funny, how?  Like a clown?” 

A dreadful effort, but Carlee enjoyed it.  She nearly choked on her cookies as crumbs sprayed out of her mouth.  Through a cough, she said, “You’re like a kid at a school dance.” 

“Well, can you blame me?” 

“Alan seems to really like you.  I bet he won’t even think twice about that asshole, Jonesey.”

“Sure, say that now, but when I’m leaving here with my tail between my legs you’ll be singing a different tune.”

Carlee laughed, shook her head.  “You’re so cute.  I’ll make sure you leave after having
something
tucked between your legs, but it definitely won’t be a tail.” 

“Gee, thanks.”  She guzzled down the rest of her coffee and went back for a refill.

“Whoa, take it easy there girl; you’re going to fill your bladder
real
quick.”

“I’ll be fine.”  After the cup was full, she sat it down, and faced Carlee.  She had to ask, “Am I that bad?” 

“What?”

“A kid at a dance?” 

“Oh, yeah.  Absolutely.”

“Seriously, am I?” 

“Just relax.  Be your normal, charming self.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Turning around and observing the crowd, Haley leaned against the table while stirring her coffee. Her eyes combed the room. Various people were engaged in conversations that she couldn’t hear.  Out of all the diversities, she didn’t spot Alan among them.  But, she quickly caught sight of someone else that she knew.  Someone that made her groan in revulsion just seeing him. 

“What’s the matter?” asked Carlee.  Her back was aimed at Haley as she was now filling a cup of her own with coffee.

“Guess who’s here.”

Jokingly, “Jonesey.”

“That’s right.” 

Flinching, Carlee dropped her cup but saved it from spilling.  “He seriously showed up?” 

“Look for yourself.” 

Carlee turned around and looked in the direction Haley nodded.  There he stood across the room at the buffet line, munching on cauliflower with his hair slicked down by a superfluous quantity of gel.  He watched the other people talking amongst themselves.  Though he probably didn’t care, he acted as if he was enthused to be there.  Smiling with each bite he took, and closing his eyes as if savoring the vegetable tray.  He poked his teeth with the tip of his tongue to lash out lingering food bits.  

“Okay,” said Carlee.  “I agree with you.  This is borderline stalking.”

“Borderline?” 

More like he hopped over the border and started moon-walking to gloat. 

“What are you going to do?” 

“What
can
I do?  I just hope he doesn’t see me.” 

Having said that, she realized it was already too late.  He plopped the last bite into his mouth, and chewed while smiling his loathsome grin.  His eyes were fixed over the mass of patrons and onto Haley.  Her stomach flipped, nearly pushing the coffee right back out.  He started walking toward them.

“Shit,”  Carlee said.

They were completely helpless.  Dodging customers, he strutted to that tune that only he could hear.  Everything appeared to be moving in slow motion to Haley, except for Jonesey.  He moved like the only one who wasn’t. 

“Helloooo ladies.”  He spun a circle, then clapped his hands together for his finisher. 

“Mr. Jones,” said Carlee, “This is a surprise.” 

“Yeah?” he said, bobbing his head to the side. 

That was very odd.  There was no music playing in the store, but he couldn’t stop bouncing to a rhythm as if a DJ were mixing beats. 

Does he have his own theme music that only he can hear?
 

“You seem really happy about something.” She added.

“Should I
not
be?  I’m at this interesting place, nibbling on free food, and enjoying conversations with regular folk.  And, to top it all, books as far as I can see.  What would I have to
not
be happy about?   That’s the real question.” 

Haley wanted to vomit.  She could think of one reason not to be happy, and she was looking at him. 

“How are my angels?” he asked. 

“Good, we’re good,” answered Carlee.

Realizing that she hadn’t said a word, Haley cleared her throat.  “Perfect.”  Before she could finish speaking, her throat closed up, making the last
fect
a whisper.

Jonesey’s smile faltered a bit.  “Are
you
okay?  Sounds like you might be coming down with something.” 

“Oh, it’s something, all right.  But, I’m sure it’ll pass.”

“Hope so, need you alert and on your toes.” 

“I bet.” 

“So,” clapping his hands into a wave, he then pointed at them with both index fingers.  “Haven’t seen you’re pal, Aaron, around.”

“Alan,” corrected Haley.  “I’m sure he’s here somewhere.” 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want to miss
you
.  Now that you’re here, he’ll make his grand appearance.” 

Carlee butted in before Haley could retort.

“Plan on buying any books, Mr. Jones?” 

“Oh please, call me Geoffrey, or Geoff, even Geoff-a-rino.  Just save that mister crap for the office.”

Haley thought she would either die laughing or just die if he didn’t go away.

Carlee shrugged.  “Okay, if you insist.” 

“I do, it’s your job.”  He flashed them that atrocious smile.   “Girls will be girls, I suppose.”  With pursing lips, his face contorted.  His nose angled down like a maw.  Haley wished she had a human sized mousetrap to fill with cheese.               

“Haley,” said Carlee.  “Why don’t you run along and find Alan.”

Bless her heart
.

“I probably should,” said Haley.

At the mere mentioning of his name, Jonesey looked as if he wanted to bite something. His face wrinkled into a snarl, baring his teeth. 

“Well, go find him.
I’m sure everyone wants to talk with him.  Better go get in line.” She patted her on the back, and gave her a gentle shove.

“I’ll hel
p you find him,” said Jonesey. “I’ve got a great pair of peepers.” Rapidly blinking his eyes, he pointed at the two tapered slits.

“Thanks an
yway,” she said, walking away. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” 

“Have fun,” said Carlee, then gave her a look of: 
You owe me
.

Then she was away from them. 

She already felt better. Her jitters were diminishing. Haley’s stomach was no longer agitated as if trying to crease itself into a ball, and felt loose and relaxed.  In the crowd, there were a few faces she recognized from previous gatherings.  She nodded, smiled, and waved at them in passing, but didn’t stop to chat. Before long she was near the register at the opposite side of the store. She expected to find him there, but he wasn’t. 

How the hell is he supposed to sell anything if no one is running the register?

She did a quick scan from the side of the store. Pouting her bottom lip out, she huffed a gust of air upward, rustling her bangs in defeat. 

Her nervousness was gone, but in its place was disappointment.

I give up
.

If it was meant to be, she would have spotted him by now. 
Maybe he’s hiding?
  After what he’d gone through at the restaurant, she couldn’t hold it against him, because if it was the other way around, and she’d spotted him coming into the store, she would have hidden, too. 

Sighing, she turned around, ready to go home…

…and then bumped into something hard.  The sudden impact nearly knocked her over.  She quickly realized she had actually collided with a person. 

The young man was reaching for her and saying, “I’m so sorry, that was my fault…”

Then she recognized who he was. 

Alan!

His eyes lit up, a smile quickly replacing the shock on his face. “Haley!  Oh, damn, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right, it was my fault. I didn’t see you!”

“Obviously.  You almost knocked me on my ass.”

She struggled to keep the goofy grin off her face, but failed. 

He looked good tonight.  His hair was neatly styled, and he’d replaced that horrible uniform she’d seen in him last with jeans and a t-shirt.  He looked the way she adored him, and smelled wonderful. 

“Where’ve you been?  I’ve been looking for you.”  She resisted the urge to grab and kiss him.   

“I was in the back, making sure all the desserts were being….Wait, did you just say you’ve been looking for me?”

Her blush turned to a scorching flush.  Casually she said, “Well, yeah, you’re the host. Thought it would be rude if I didn’t say hi.”  Bullshit, but decently executed.

He smirked. “Oh, okay. Well, hi.” 

She laughed. “Not buying what I said, huh?”

“Nope, too expensive.”

“Yeah, I’ve been accused of having ridiculous prices.” 

“If by ridiculous prices you mean being a terrible liar, then yeah, that’s absolutely correct.” 

Her skin felt so hot, she wondered if it would ignite.  “Yeah?” 

Smiling, he nodded. 

“Well, I wanted to find you and apologize about yesterday.”

“For what?”

“My boss.”

“It’s all right, water under the bridge.”  He made a rippling motion with his hand.

“No, you don’t understand, it’s like…”

Throwing his arms up as if surrendering he said, “Look, what you do in your life is your business, not mine.  You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

“What I do in my life?”

“Yeah, he seems pretty possessive, though.  I don’t like that.” 

Hearing what he was saying made her realize that he, like several in the office, thought her relationship with Jonesey was more than platonic. 
Relationship?
  Hardly, it felt like a forced marriage. 

“Oh, God, Alan; No! You’re wrong.  I’m not
seeing
him, he’s just my boss.  That’s all, honestly.”

“Ah, I see.”

“That’s it, I swear.”

“Just be careful how you handle it then, because he has his eyes on you.”

“Why do you say that?” 

“Because, he
really
has his eyes on you.  He’s hiding in the historical romance section, watching us.”

“What?” She glanced over, catching a head ducking down behind the shelves. “No way.” The head bopped back up like a groundhog coming out of its den to search for its shadow. When it spotted Haley, it ducked back down again. 

Jonesey.
 

“That asshole,” she mumbled.

“Tell you what,” he said. “Let’s head to the back, he can’t bother us there.”

“The back?”

“Yeah, my little private area. We’ll be safe there.”    

“Thank you.”

“Come on.”

Taking her by the hand, he led her away. She didn’t bother looking back to see if Jonesey was watching, because she didn’t care one way or the other. 

(II)

Joel lay on his side, fitfully in and out of sleep.  Weird dreams plagued his mind that featured Rusky, the naked lady Pillowface had disposed of, and Carlee.  Each moment he found himself drifting off to sleep, a flutter of images would erupt, jolting him awake.  He wished it was like last night, where he’d been so drained nothing bothered him.