Chapter 2

Jennifer’s eyes looked down at the hand on her knee. Chris wasn’t moving it up or down, but the last digit on his middle finger was wiggling tiny circles in her skin right above her knee. It sort of tickled, but she didn’t dare move. Chris lifted his hand off the girl’s leg and held up her wrists by the bindings, looking at Mark. As though asking a silent question, Mark responded, “Did you lock it?”

“Yes.”

“Then go for it.”

Chris grinned and untied the young girl’s hands, letting her go and getting back to his feet. “There you go. That should show you how much we’re trusting you to be good. No running, no screaming, no fighting us and definitely no trying to get away. If you disobey us on any of those fronts, Mark gets to play with you without my supervision.”

Jennifer pushed the ropes off the mattress and scooted away from them closer to the middle. She wasn’t bound, blindfolded, or gagged anymore and could move as she wanted, but where? She looked around, ignoring most of what Chris was saying. She knew not to try anything stupid. She wasn’t an idiot, but she had to learn of her surroundings.

It felt odd to her that she was only just now noticing most of this stuff. This appeared to be a basement or something. Three walls were all fuzzy and dark red, covered in what she could tell even from a distance was probably soft and comfortable to the touch; probably felt or polyester. The other wall was cement which took away from the whole aesthetic value of the fuzzy redness. On the wall in front of her was a set of dark cedar wooden stairs leading up to a heavy looking equally dark cedar door that had a deadbolt.

She was sitting on a clean mattress but next to it was a recliner and a not-so-fashionable three-seater couch that had a red/tan/dark green/tan/red coordinated pattern. On one of the red walls was a feint outline of another door that she would have missed if there wasn’t a handle there, but it was closed so she didn’t know what was behind it.

She looked up and around, the only light switch in the room to the three rows of incandescent lights with filters covering them looked down on them. On the concrete wall was a very tiny window leading to ... blackness. She couldn’t see outside but it was a set of three glass panes high on the wall, which in her mind confirmed that they were in a basement. She finally looked back up the two.

Chris and Mark just stood there watching her taking things in. They could see the gears working in her head. Chris grinned because he thought it was adorable. Mark smirked because he could tell she was trying to find a way to escape, which meant he would have fun with her without Chris being there to stop him.

She cleared her throat, trying to be brave and came up with a way to have time to think, “Uhm ... I ... may I please go to the bathroom?” Chris’ grin spread at how absolutely adorable she was and pointed to the previously mysterious door on the wall.

“If you need to go, use that restroom. The ones upstairs are ... obviously out of the question.”

Jennifer looked at the door handle and nodded, looking back up at them and attempted to rise to her feet but her head spun and her legs refused to hold her up and she leaned back onto the mattress. Fortunately Chris was there to help lift her up and lead her to the door. She closed it behind her perhaps a little too quickly and was dismayed to find no lock on the door.

It was a rather nice bathroom though. Clean with plenty of toilet paper, a walk-in sunken shower that she supposed could also be used as a Jacuzzi or something, though it looked to only fit one or two people at a time. There was also a mirror with a vanity, in its drawers were toiletries for, allegedly, her. Tampons and maxi pads of various sizes. This was a relief as much as it was a sign for panic.

Just how long were they planning on keeping her here? And the more important question that she keeps having to push back down to prevent having a panic attack, what was their end-game plan? She already knew that she was very probably going to be raped. Mark had already made that part crystal clear.

What she didn’t like was that they were afraid to let her out of the basement. Were they in a populated area? They looked young but she supposed they could own this place on their own. That would probably mean they’d have jobs that would leave her for several hours unattended. She could only hope.

A loud BANG BANG on the door nearly made her jump out of her skin, Mark’s voice coming in through the door, “I don’t hear anything hitting that water.” So she pulled her panties down, sat on the toilet, and squeezed her muscles to force something out. She was soon done and, reaching behind her to feel for a handle, felt nothing. She twisted at the waist to find a pad with a few buttons with no picture for indication of their purpose. She pushed the first one of a small jet of water hit her mons, making her jump with an “AH!”

It surprised her and she grimaced that her pussy was all wet with toilet water. She set the pad aside and got up, handling a wad of toilet paper and wiping herself enough. She still didn’t know which of the buttons actually flushed the toilet though. Whatever. She pulled her panties back up and washed her hands, exiting the bathroom.

Chris and Mark was sitting on the ugly couch with a space in between them, wearing their grin and smirk respectively. Chris patted the open space and Jennifer felt like she shrank in place, making the smallest of steps over to them and smoothed her school’s skirt under her before sitting down.

Chris started with an arm around her shoulder, his arm being long enough to bend his elbow on the other side of her neck so his forearm hung just over her breasts, but also too long for his hand to reach it comfortably for him. “So, Jennifer, this is how things are going to work. Or at least, this is how I’d like them to work. You will be having sex with the two of us. I don’t enjoy hurting people or things like Mark does, so I’ll be going first.”