Capturing Elizabeth - 03
The Sadistic Squad | Elizabeth | Lesbian | Noncon
Graphic Designer
Dubiously, I scanned the run-down warehouse through the raindrops hitting the windshield. My excitement had dimmed quite a bit, between the rain and seedy building. Danielle, the lady from Paner, had given this address. They were the first company to reach out and contact me, and that had my hopes up. Raining or not, I needed to find out what they had to offer. I cracked my car door and slipped the umbrella through, opening it while I was still inside. Arriving for my interview soaked seems like a bad idea.
The warehouse was unlocked. Inside the open building, there were what seemed like acres of crates stacked on huge racks. Right in front of me, a piece of paper with my name on it was taped to the wall. Below my name, an arrow pointed to the left, towards a doorway on the far side of the building.
My excitement came back as I strode towards the room in what I hoped was a confident manner. Everything I had read about interviewing well flashing through my mind. Confident, intelligent, and professional. Paner would hire me. I made myself believe it.
I knocked.
“Hello, Elizabeth, my name is Danielle. Please come inside,” purred a lovely voice that exuded everything I was trying to show.
Opening the door, I stepped inside.
The room was brightly lit. Behind the desk sat a woman who looked to be in her early thirties, or well-preserved forties. The two long scars that crossed her left cheek, highlighted by the glow from the laptop on her desk. She wasn't at all what I expected, but I pushed on.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Danielle. Please call me, Beth,” I said.
At the solid thump of the door closing behind me, her eyes snapped to mine. There was something predatory in them. I shivered. Part of me, an embarrassingly large part, wanted to run away immediately. I resisted the urge and did my best not to show the unease suddenly fluttering in my stomach.
“Come Elizabeth, let me show you why you’re here,” Danielle said with a little gesture towards the screen.
Uh… Didn’t she hear me say call me Beth?
I cautiously walked around her desk. On the monitor was my online portfolio.
“When I saw your portfolio, one picture convinced me to contact you,” Danielle said.
“Really?” A grin split my face, and I couldn’t hide the excitement in my voice. Which of my illustrations had captivated her so much?
“Which one?”
“This one,” she said, and clicked on my profile, and opened the photo of myself I had included.
The photographer had captured me leaning against the wall. One hand resting on my hip, thumb in my jeans pocket. The other hand reached up, as though I beckoned the viewer to come closer. My long brown hair streamed in the wind; full lips slightly pursed in thought. My hazel eyes seemed to stare into the camera.
An incredible photo. I still couldn’t quite make myself believe I was that beautiful woman. Taken by a friend, a gifted photographer, shortly after graduation. He had asked my permission to enter it into some contest, and my photograph had taken first place!
It was a good picture, but it wasn’t in my portfolio. It was just the photo of myself I included on the ‘about me’ page. What difference could this photo make? Surely, she didn’t think I was a photographer?
A vice-like grip twisted my arms up behind my back. With a room-spinning twist, I suddenly found myself in her lap, arms trapped behind me.
She nuzzled my neck as though we were lovers, breathing in deeply, as though my scent was the most exquisite thing she had ever smelled.
She breathed into my ear. “From the moment I saw you, I knew you were exactly what I wanted.”
My heart racing, I stammered. “I’m sorry. I don’t like women that way.”
She chuckled. “Good. Although, I already knew that.”
Dear God, is she crazy? She must be. I tried to pull my arms free, panic giving me unexpected strength. I struggled, twisting and pulling, but it wasn’t enough. She twisted one arm a bit more, and pain lanced up my arm, locking me in place.
“Let’s make a little deal. Just sit still on my lap for one conference call, and I’ll then you’re free to make your own choices. Leave or stay for the interview.”
“Fine.” I snapped. It’s not like I had been able to break her grip anyway.
One of her arms coiled around my waist, holding me tight. I ignored her touch.
Danielle tapped something on the computer, and a few long seconds later, a new window opened, showing a picture of an empty table. Like picture-in-picture, a smaller window showed my wide-eyed face, with Danielle smirking over my shoulder.
“Elizabeth, I have a few things to show you.” the woman’s voice came from off-camera. With a thump, she placed a strange-looking gun on the table. It took a few moments to realize it was a paintball gun, much like my father’s.
With puke green paintballs.
Anger heated my voice. “You were the one who shot Anna and father!” A statement, not a question.
“Yes. I played with them yesterday.”
She placed a shockingly long rifle with an enormous scope on the table. “This one doesn’t shoot paintballs. It shoots these,” said the woman as she showed the camera a long bullet.
My blood froze.
Everything shifted as she adjusted the camera so that it looked out a window, I now knew she was on the second floor, just like my bedroom. Across the street, several houses down the all-too-familiar home I grew up in.
“Dear God, No! Please, No!” I shouted, struggling to free myself.
They both chuckled cruelly.
“That’s up to you, Elizabeth,” said the woman from the other end of the line.
“Now,” said Danielle, “let’s get back to business. After all, you came here for an interview. Carla, why don’t you explain our employee compensation plan.”
“My pleasure. Elizabeth, your proposed salary is simple, easy to understand. Best of all, you don’t need to pay the government a single penny.”
Carla stroked the sniper rifle like it was her lover, and I suddenly knew what she would say next. Shivering, I waited for the hammer to fall.
“Their lives are your salary,” said Carla, pointing at my home. “If Danielle doesn’t hire you, they die. If you’re fired? If you quit? They die. If anything happens to Danielle, and I think there’s even the smallest chance you could have prevented it... they die.”
Bitch.
Anger raged inside. Burning through my soul.
“I’m afraid I’m no longer looking for a Graphic Designer,” said Danielle. “The only position left is yes-woman.”
Of course, it wasn’t.
“What’s a yes-woman?”
I didn’t want to know, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
“Another easy question from my potential employee,” she said condescendingly. “A yes-woman obeys orders.”
Carla’s voice comes over the speakers. “Fetch my whip. Bring me my strap-on. Spread your legs. Chain yourself, spread-eagled, to my bed. Lick Carla’s pussy all night long. A yes-woman obeys any order she’s given.”
Tears fell. Shivering, cold sweat bringing goose-pimples to my skin. I whispered in a broken voice. “How long?”
Danielle’s pitiless eyes gave me my answer before the words left her mouth. “We’ve already spoken about this. Don’t quit or disappoint me, and you’ll continue receiving your salary. Of course, that assumes you convince me to hire you in the first place.”
“What would you like me to do?” Nearly choking, I spat out the bitter words.
Silent tears fell down my cheeks.
My life was over. Everything was over.
Except for this nightmare that had just begun.
Danielle didn’t answer with words.
The hand pinning my wrists in place released. Something far more powerful chained me down. Puke green paint. Under my skirt, her right hand stroked along where my thighs firmly pressed together. One finger brushed the lace that trimmed my panties, and I tried to flinch away.
She shoved me to the floor and walked away.
Dear God, thank you!
Danielle spoke up loudly, “Carla, it doesn’t look like she really wants the job. I’ll find someone else.”
For a second, her words confused me. Then my blood ran cold. Hidden rage suddenly twisted into raw terror.
“Okay, I’ll take care of her family. Let me know when you find a replacement,” said Carla.
Dark Fantasies