She pressed her face into the cold air that rushed out from the refrigerator, taking a second or two to grab a deep inhalation of breath, before plunging a hand into its icy depths. Pulling out a frosty bottle of milk, she gulped its contents down her throat greedily, quenching the raging thirst that parched her delicate throat.
She'd run home as if being chased by the furies, partly driven by fear, partly driven by A, partly driven by the need to have some small amount of control over something, even if that was just her own fucking movements.
She wiped the back of her hand over her face, mixing fat beads of salty sweat from her brow with the milk moustache just above her lips. Her tongue darted out absentmindedly to lick up the odd, salty-sweet combination.
Her phone shuddered in her pocket. She felt the colour drain from her face.
"Go upstairs and open your dressing table drawer. This time it's your turn to do as you're told. A"
Had A been in her home? Was A still here? She looked around her wildly. The front door had been locked when she got home. She turned the handle on the back door. Locked. She shook her head, trying to centre herself, trying to focus through the rising panic. When had something as simple as a locked door ever stopped A before? Hands trembling, she quietly pulled the knife drawer open, fingers closing around the closest blade. This was madness! Blood pounded in her ears as her heart rate rocketed, adrenaline coursing through her body, her muscles primed for instant reflex if needed. Fight or flight. Emily had had enough of flight to last her a lifetime. She was sick and tired of running away from A. If that bastard, if that bitch - whoever the hell it was - if they were in her bedroom so help her, she'd skewer them first and ask questions later.
The door to her room swung silently to. Emily entered cautiously, glancing swiftly around the room, knife first, leading with the thin sliver of the blade, her breath caught in her throat. She tried desperately to stop her outstretched arm from shaking, digging deep within the pit of her stomach to steel her nerves. This place should be her sanctuary, her absolute safe space. Instead it felt as if she were treading into the lion's den, the spider's web, a dangerous, sickening, unfamiliar unknown. She hated the feeling of powerless that A could, would inflict on to her, so fucking easily. Keeping her back firmly against the wall, she edged along the room, eyes flitting, legs ready to spring, mind wired to fuck. She pushed violently into her wardrobe, thrust the knife into its hidden spaces, feeling blindly for any hint of unwanted shape or form, any unwelcome visitor, anything that might indicate the presence of A. Nothing. She checked the locks on the window, peered out onto the street below, crouched down as if she were looking for monsters under the bed. If it hadn't been for past experiences, she would most likely have let out a nervous but relieved laugh at some point. Precisely because of past experiences, the vile dread that crept through her veins only grew with the growing lack of certainty.
A flash and a small ding from her desktop computer screen startled her. Discarding the knife, she pulled out the chair, hitting the space bar so that the screen sprang into life. She hissed under her breath as the instant messenger window blinked at her.
Don't worry Emily. You're all by yourself…
She stared back at the flickering, taunting, luminescent text, vision blurring slightly under duress.
Open the desk drawer…
The initial sensation of shock mutated into a kind of cold panic, wrapping its clammy arms around her like an uneasy blanket on her shoulders. She looked nervously around the room. She was being watched, that much was obvious. How? By who? She ran her fingers along the edge of the computer monitor, feeling for any odd bumps, any strange bits that shouldn't have been there, that might be a camera.
Stop it, Emily. You don't want to make me angry. You know what happens when you make me angry…
Emily thought back to her numerous encounters with the wrath of A. Immediately she opened the drawer.
Good girl. Don't forget who's in charge…
She fought the urge to smash her fist through the screen, turning her attention instead to whatever it was that A had left for her in the drawer. She pulled out a plain brown Jiffy Bag envelope, feeling something inside, something solid, something bulky. She peeled open the top and pulled out a phone. It looked like a burner. Identical to hers. What the hell was A playing at?
Turn it on…
Her face like thunder, she begrudgingly obeyed the command. The red light at the top of the phone flashed insistently for a second or two, then the screen lit up. She stared around the room. What now? She didn't have to wait long.
Call the number on the phone. Do exactly what I tell you to do, as soon as I tell you to do it. If you don't, that picture will be on every school locker tomorrow morning. If you hang up, that picture will be on your mother's desk tomorrow morning. If they hang up, that picture will be the first thing Paige's father sees tomorrow morning. Don't make me wait, don't make me angry. Do you understand?...
Emily sat frozen to the chair, hot, bitter tears welling up in her eyes, fear and resentment mixed together in a blinding combination. She shoved the ball of her palm into her eyes angrily, wiping away the treacherous show of emotion.
Do you understand Emily?...
"Yes!" she almost screamed. "I fucking understand!"
Then do as you're told. Call the number…
There was only number in the contact book, one that Emily didn't immediately recognize off the top of her head. Who was it? Was it A? Was she finally going to be able to hear the voice of the vile, unrelenting creature that had been tormenting her and her friends for years? She pressed dial and placed the phone against her ear, breath hitched in dread anticipation.
"Hello?"
What the fuck? Jenna Marshall?
"Hello?"
Emily stared at the computer screen, unsure of what to say. This was not any of the voices she had expected to hear on the other end of the call.
"Who is this? What do you want?"
Answer her Emily…
"H…Hi. Jenna."
"Yes this is Jenna." The voice carried a considerable amount of irritation. "Who is this?"
"Um… Emily. It's Emily Fields."
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
"Emily Fields. I'm in your year."
"I know who you are." The irritation had gone from her voice, replaced with something else that Emily couldn't quite put her finger on.
A new command blinked on the screen, catching her attention. Her jaw fell open, the phone almost dropping from her fingers.
Tell her you know she was behind the aquatic centre yesterday. Tell her you know that she heard everything…
Fuck! Jenna? Jenna! Jenna was blind, how the hell could she have seen anything? Her mind flicked back to yesterday lunchtime. Paige wasn't exactly the quiet type, far from it, and the way Emily had destroyed her, it was a miracle half the damn school hadn't come running. If she had been in the vicinity, it wasn't surprising that she might have heard more than she was meant to. Emily flushed crimson at the thought.
"What do you want, Emily?
Emily shook herself, her brow furrowed as she darkly reassessed the instructions on the screen.
"Sorry. It's just that…" She stuttered, tripping up over her own tongue. How the hell was she supposed to say this? "Well… look... look, basically I know, ok?" She leaned back in her chair and blew her cheeks out, her fingers raking through her hair. She could almost hear A laughing at her misfortune. She should have known better than to fuck Paige outside in the first place while A was still at large. But the thrill of it at the time! She had been so turned on by the danger of it all, by the excitement, by the control and power, having Paige so helpless, so desperate, so weak, hearing her beg. How the tables had been turned! Now she was the one that needed to beg, she was the one who was desperate and powerless.
"Know what?"
Tell her Emily, or I send the picture to Paige's dad. Right now...
Fuck it, she thought. She held absolutely none of the cards here. She gave in to A with a low sigh of resignation. "I know you were behind the Aquatics Centre yesterday."
What sounded like a strangulated choke emitted from the other end of the phone.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jenna stammered.
"Yes, you do."
"No, really I don't. This is just another of your sick, twisted games, isn't it! Did Spencer put you up to this? Or Hannah? Aria? Are you all there, laughing? Laughing at me? Haven't you done enough damage already?"
Emily could hear the anger rising in the other girl's voice. She couldn't blame her. She tried not to think about the world of personal hell that their foolish activities had plunged Jenna into. There was always such a huge cloud of guilt and shame that descended upon her whenever Emily thought back to that night, and the repercussions. Having to interact with Jenna ranged from highly awkward to pretty damn excruciating at the best of times, but under these circumstances?
What choice did she have? She had to keep going. Worried the other girl was about to slam the phone down on her, the consequences of which would involve a morning of humiliation the likes of which she'd never experienced before, Emily cut her off in her tracks, forcing her tone to be as pacifying as possible.
"It's not a game Jenna. I promise, it's only me here." Me and A, she thought grimly. The mocking cursor on the screen blinked back and forth serenely, loaded with intent, ready to spit out the next command. Could A hear what Jenna was saying? Of course. Why even bother questioning the lengths that A could and would go to?
"Why the hell should I believe anything you say? Why are you even calling me?"
"I know that you were behind the Aquatics Centre yesterday at lunch and I know that you heard me and Paige… having sex. Please don't ask me how I know Jenna, but I do."
There was a strange sound in her ear. "So? Ok yes, I did. I mean it wasn't exactly like I had a choice, was it? I can't even have my lunch in peace these days."
Ask her if she enjoyed it…
Oh for crying out loud. Emily rubbed two fingers into the side of her head and cringed inwardly, plunging forward regardless.
"Did you enjoy it?"
A spluttered cough. Emily could hardly blame her.
"Did I what?"
"Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy hearing me fuck Paige?"
"What the hell Emily? What's wrong with you? You need to learn some fucking respect! I'm hanging up!"
"Wait!" Emily lurched out of her seat desperately, both hands clutching at the cell phone as if she could reach down the receiver and physically hold Jenna to the conversation. "Please Jenna, don't hang up! Please, I'm begging you!"
"You're begging me?"
"I'm begging you! I'm absolutely begging you!"
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put this phone down right now."
What possible reason could Emily give her? The only thing she had was the truth. A hadn't said that she couldn't tell Jenna the truth. Quickly she scanned back through the messages. Nowhere was there a specific instruction not to tell her exactly what was going on. It only said that she had to keep her on the phone. For Paige's sake, never mind her own, Emily would do whatever it took to make that happen, even if that meant exposing Jenna to A. For all Emily knew, Jenna was A and this was simply just another sick, twisted layer of the demented psychopath she'd come to loathe and hate coming out to dance in the sunshine.
"I'm being blackmailed. Someone else was watching, someone else was at the aquatics centre and saw you there as well as me and Paige. Whoever it was, they have photos, photos of us."
"Of me?"
Emily shook her head. "No, just me and Paige. Me and Paige doing stuff. The stuff you heard."
Silence. If she hadn't already, Emily felt as if she might go mad from it all.
"Look, if I don't speak to you, if I don't follow certain instructions that I'm being given right now, if you hang up, those photos are going to be sent to our families, they're going to be plastered up around the entire school tomorrow. My mother will see them, Paige's dad will see them, complete fucking strangers will see them!" She heard the desperation soaking through her voice. She carried on regardless. She had nothing left to lose. "Please. I know you hate me. You have every reason to hate me. I understand that, I get it. I'm not trying to excuse myself. I'm not asking you to do this for me. But if this gets out, if people see that picture it's going to hurt Paige, and she hasn't done anything wrong. Not to you. Not to anyone else. Please Jenna. All you have to do is stay on the phone to me. What harm can it do?"
She could almost see the other girl considering her words. At least she hadn't hung up. Her fingers drummed a nervous beat across the soft flesh of her lips as she waited nervously for either a word or the telling click of the phone.
"Ok."
It may have been just one word, but it was the one word she needed to hear.
"Thank you."
"Whatever. Just ask your questions."
Emily licked her lips nervously, her throat suddenly dry. "Did you enjoy hearing me and Paige?"
"...Yes."
Emily's eyes flew open at the completely unexpected reply. "You did?"
"Yes."
Ask her what she enjoyed…
Emily's mind was a racing blur. The thought of Jenna Marshall not only listening to, but actually liking what she heard, was almost too much to cope with. Never in a million years had she ever considered the sultry brunette to be 'that type' of girl. Sure, Emily had looked at Jenna once or twice… she stopped herself short. She'd looked at Jenna Marshall way more than that over the years. How could you not? The girl was exquisitely stunning, immaculately dressed, and those lips... those fucking lips. Yes of course she'd looked at Jenna but never once had she considered that anything would be reciprocated, not in the slightest!
"What did you enjoy?"
"Specifically?"
"Yes. What specifically did you enjoy?" Emily could hear her own voice, taut and cracked with the sudden rush of lust. Her throat ran dry, her tongue darting out nervously to whet her lips. She reached for a bottle of water she'd left out from the night before, tipping it back and letting the cool liquid swirl inside her mouth.
Ask her if she liked it when you told Paige what to do…
Emily shut her eyes and swallowed. "Did you like it when I told Paige what to do?"
"Yes."
"What else?"
"I liked it when you told her to spread her legs."
Emily swallowed, hard. "And?"
"I liked it when I heard you fuck her."
Jenna's voice was lower now, husky, the note that Emily had honed in on before now more prevalent, unmasked, unhidden. The way the word "fuck" rolled off her tongue caused a tightening between Emily's legs, a small pulsation that felt sweet and delicious and made her want to hear more.
"What did it sound like?" There was a long pause, the only sound in her ear Jenna's breath, deeper, hesitant. Emily imagined her fingers sliding inside the brunette and closed her eyes shut at the thought. "What did it sound like Jenna?"
"It sounded wet. Like she wanted you, like she was desperate for you, like she wanted to take all of you inside of her."
Emily leaned back in the chair, an overwhelming desire to stretch her body out under the thrum of Jenna's voice taking her over. What was happening here? Was she being seduced? Was she seducing Jenna? Was A seducing them both?
"She was moaning. I could hear her cry out every time you slid inside her. I could hear her body slamming against the brickwork. I could hear her panting as you fucked her faster and faster."
Ask her how it made her feel…
Emily's voice was barely above a whisper. "How did it make you feel?" Fuck A, now she wanted to know for herself. "How did hearing me fuck a girl make you feel?"
Jenna's breath hitched on the other side of the line. "It made me feel… wet."
"It made you feel wet too?
"Yes."
"Did it turn you on?"
"Yes."
"Did you touch yourself?"
"No."
"Did you want to touch yourself?"
"Yes."
"Did you want me to touch you?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to touch you now?"
"Yes."
The simple, blunt admission sent a crashing wave of electricity surging through all her weakest points, making her bite down on her lip so hard she felt the tooth break the delicate skin. The pain barely registered.
Ask her if she'll listen to you touch yourself now…
Emily shifted nervously in her chair, the scorching heat in the seat of her lap growing with every turn of this strange, sordid conversation. Did she dare even ask? What did A want to happen here? If she was reading the situation rightly – and she was pretty sure she did – then she had a pretty clear idea of where they were heading. She had no choice in the direction, she knew that, and if she was perfectly honest with herself she didn't want to change course, but Jenna? It was one thing talking, listening, answering questions, replying, but taking this further? That part she had no control over.
ASK HER…
"If I touch myself now…"
"...Yes?"
"If I touch myself now will you listen?"
Jenna audibly groaned. "Yes."
"Will you touch yourself?"
"...Yes."
I didn't tell you to ask her that…
So she was improvising. At least she was doing it in the direction A wanted her to go.
Tell her what you're doing…
Slowly Emily switched her phone from her left to her right hand, then slid her unfettered fingers down between her legs. Cupping herself gently, barely applying any pressure, she moaned slightly. She could already feel how swollen she was, how on edge she was, the nerve endings that sprang to life at the thought of what might happen. Her pussy was pushing against the thin fabric of her training pants, demanding her attention, demanding Jenna's attention, twitching at the lightest touch. She pictured the brunette knelt in front of her, spreading her knees, pushing that deliciously full mouth towards her sex. Desire thundered through her veins.
"I'm imagining you in front of me, kneeling on the floor."
"You are?"
"Yes."
"What am I doing?"
Emily squeezed her thighs together around her hand and relished in the sensation, her eyes fluttering shut and her neck tilting backwards as if Jenna was right there to kiss it better. "You're pushing my legs apart, you're running your hands up the insides of my thighs, up my stomach, up to my breasts." The words coming from her mouth were ragged, breathless, dripping with loaded heat.
"What do I do when I get there?"
Slowly, slowly Emily moved the palm of her hand in tantalizing circles across the tight turret of her nipple.
"You take them in your mouth. You kiss them with your lips. You bite them, ever so gently, but just enough that it hurts me."
"You taste so good," Jenna whispered.
Emily imagined the blind girl, nothing but darkness, nothing but the sound of Emily's voice in her ear, nothing but the images that Emily dripped in from the other end of the phone line.
"Are you touching yourself?"
"Yes."
"Tell me what you feel like."
Jenna groaned. Emily imagined her delicate fingers slipping inside her sex, her wet, musky sex. "I feel slick, hot, open." An audible shudder down the phone. "I've never been this wet before." The admission sounded tight, constricted, breaking towards the end as honesty bought with it vulnerability. "I want you to tell me what to do," she whispered. "Tell me what to do just like you told Paige."
Holy hell. Emily stood up from the chair, moving to the window, shutting the blinds against the dim evening shadows and the intrusive fingers of streetlight.
"Are you naked?"
"No."
"Take off your clothes. I want to know that you're naked for me. Can you do that?"
"Will you take off yours too?"
"Yes."
"Ok."
Emily shrugged the tee-shirt up over her arms and head, letting it drop to the floor, then nudged her comfy grey sweats down over her tight stomach and curved ass, kicking them off to the side. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were dilated pools of obsidian, a flush spreading across her cheeks and chest. She didn't give a damn any more whether A was watching or not. She wanted this. She wanted this more than she'd wanted anything in a very long time. She reached around and unhooked her bra, slid herself out of her lacy underwear, then sat back in front of the computer screen.
There were no more instructions. A was waiting for her to begin. She felt as if a thousand eyes were on top of her. Some part of her almost liked it. Her free hand roamed slowly over the supreme tone of her swimmer's body, across tight stomach muscles, taut shoulders, lean biceps and strong forearms. She imagined her fingers belonged to Jenna. She imagined the girl pressed up against her, equally as naked, equally as vulnerable, equally as excited.
"Are you there?"
Jenna sounded scared. The tremulous quiver in her voice did strange things to Emily.
"Yes I'm here. Are you naked?"
"Yes, I am... Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want me to do."
"Whatever I tell you to do, I'm going to do it at the same time, ok?"
Jenna breathed her assent into Emily's ear. "Just tell me how you want me to fuck myself."
Emily didn't need telling twice.
"Slide your hand between your legs. Slip your finger between the lips of your pussy. Can you do that for me?" Emily gasped at her own wetness, the small pool of liquid that was soaking into the seat underneath her. Her fingertips nudged against the concentration of sexual nerves that sat just above the entrance to her pussy. Her hips bucked angrily at the accidental touch and she cried out.
"Emily?"
"Just touch yourself exactly how I'm telling you to," she hissed insistently, "then imagine it's me doing that to you, imagine its my fingers, imagine its my tongue."
Jenna swore softly, and Emily pictured what she looked like right now, naked, spread out on a bed, her lithe, supple body sheened with sweat as the anticipation began to drive her wild. Emily's fingers began to tap a familiar pattern on the apex to her sex, the rhythmic pad becoming faster and faster, harder and harder, each touch matched with a moan dripping from between her lips. The sound of Jenna fucking herself became the only thing Emily could hear, the only thing that mattered as her finger slid deeper between her thighs.
"I want you to spread your legs as wide as you can for me." Emily's voice was thick with want, naked lust oozing from every syllable. She threw her leg over the arm of the chair, in her mind's eye opening herself up for Jenna, the brunette's plump, luscious lips just inches from her sex. "I want you to slide your middle finger deep inside your pussy." Her own middle finger slipped deep inside of her, her hips thrusting upwards at the same time, the walls of her pussy thick and primed, clutching at her finger, begging for more. In her ear, Jenna moaned, filthy words that should never have entered her vocabulary falling from her beautiful mouth, breathlessly begging Emily for more, waiting for the instructions to come, fucking herself harder and harder in the dark, Emily's voice the only thing guiding her.
"I'm so hard," she whimpered, her fingers touching her clit at the same time as Emily's, the pair of them panting breathlessly in reckless unison. "I'm so hard Emily! Please let me cum. Please!"
There were stars in front of Emily's eyes now, waves of pure pleasure rolling down across her body, her skin on fire, her senses heightened, her pussy crying out for the final onslaught, the final thrust, the one deep enough to make her come like a little bitch. She closed her eyes. "Do it. Do it for me. Cum like a little bitch for me Jenna."
She heard the other girl gasp as her fingers pushed hard against the upper walls of her own sex. Hot liquid gushed over her hand as her body seized up in a swift succession of rigid, earth-shattering tremors. Dropping the phone, she shoved her other hand into her mouth, screaming against the fleshy pad of her palm as she bit it hard, deep, painfully. She came over and over again, one waterfall of vibrating sensation leading to another, her pussy sucking greedily on her fingers until she could take no more. Blindly she pushed her own hand from between her thighs, bending double to try and control her emotions, hunched in the chair, the slick juices of her orgasm soaking through into the material beneath, limbs trembling, brain lost in the white noise of post-coital bliss.
It took a while for her to come back to reality. With shaking fingers she reached down to pick up the cell phone. Placing it to her ear, she blinked slowly.
"Jenna?"
The cold, unflinching sound of a dead cell was the only thing to greet her. Pushing the damp hair from in front of her eyes, she stared at the phone screen. Gone. Her thumb hovered hesitantly over the call button. Should she? She pursed her lips. And say what exactly? Fuck!
The blinking of the computer screen rudely caught her attention. In the middle of everything she'd completely forgotten about A. She frowned with displeasure. Fucking A. Rubbing her eyes, she focused and stared at the new message coming through.
Sweet dreams Emily. A xoxo
Her stomach turned as she saw the small file attachment flicker up into the messenger window. The bilious taste of fear filled her mouth instantly. She clicked open, then groaned inwardly.
Not again.