Chapter One
1340 Words
Chapter One
She struggled out of a blackness deeper than any night. The last thing she remembered were the two men by the van next to the jogging path.
***
“Excuse me,” called the tall man. He and his companion were looking at a paper map. She was surprised anyone still used them.
“Sure.”
The man had awkwardly spread the map out against the van, trying to hold it open with one elbow and point at the same time. “Maybe you could get that corner for me.”
She reached up.
An arm reached under her own upraised arm. Both her arms were grasped at the wrist. A cloth with a thick, sweet aroma covered her mouth and nose. She tried to scream. She tried to kick. She tried to keep her eyes open. She tried to stay awake. There was nothing.
***
“You're awake,” came a woman's voice.
“Please don't hurt me. I won't look at you. I'll keep my eyes closed. Whatever ransom--my my father…”
“No one’s going to hurt you,” a man said.
She opened her eyes. “Where am I?”
“You're going to stay here with us for a while,” the man said. “You're in a special community.”
“What special community?”
The woman spoke. “You're going to be here for a few months and then you'll be returned to where you come from.”
“What kind of special community? A cult? A religious thing?”
“No, not a cult,” the man said. “Not religious.”
“Who are you?” She sat up. She noticed she was wearing unfamiliar clothing. The man and the woman wore garments resembling jumpsuits like hers.
“This is Margaret. She's a doctor. I'm Carl. I'm the director of the Center.”
“Don't you have last names?”
“We don't use last names here. What shall we call you?”
She was silent.
“Oh, come now. Certainly you can invent a first name.”
“Please. You kidnapped me! You know exactly who I am! Why are you toying with me like this?”
“We don't know your name,” the woman said. “When they delivered you to us you were without identification. You’re completely anonymous here.”
“You'll never get away with this. People’ll miss me. They'll track me down.”
Carl spoke. “The men who took you prepared a thorough cover story to explain your absence. A secret mission for the UN, or the government, or a sudden desire to visit Tibet. With letters in your handwriting, with your signature and your fingerprints. No one will look for you.”
“Are you going to kill me? I don't want to die. I'll do whatever you say.”
“Why do you think we're going to kill you?” he asked.
“I know what you look like. I could identify you.”
“But when you return to the world,” the woman said, “you're not going to say anything about us. You'll realize there's no point.”
“Suppose I believe you. Now what?”
“Tell us your name,” she said. “Or pick a name you’d like to use.”
“Andrea. That's my real name. Why I am here?”
“Here you're free of your past,” she said. “You're free to become what you are.”
“Let me make something clear. I'll go along. But if I can, I'll try to escape.”
“Let me make something clear, Andrea,” the man said. “If you try to escape, you’ll fail. And you’ll be disciplined.”
“I'm frightened.”
The woman spoke. “We know, Andrea. Believe me; it's not going to be like what you're imagining now. A lot of people have been brought here, and they're all just fine now.”
“I've never been this frightened.”
Carl and Margaret stood up. “We're going to leave you now. Someone will come to you in a little while.”
The two walked toward the door.
“I want to go home.”
“You will, in time,” the woman said.
“May you become what you are, Andrea,” the man intoned.
“Become what you are,” the woman repeated.
Andrea was alone.
***
She noticed a television and turned it on with the remote on the bedside table. A video appeared of a man and a woman making love. Andrea quickly ran through one channel after another. They each showed a different variety of s****l activity, some explicit and some only suggestive. Somehow, in a way she didn’t understand, her terror had translated itself into another sort of arousal. Andrea found herself drawn into watching, but forced herself to turn the television off.
***
She went into the bathroom and used the toilet. There was a bathtub and a separate shower stall. She turned on the shower.
Andrea stripped off her clothing. Even in this terrifying circumstance, she admired herself in the mirror. At twenty-four years old, her body was in the best shape it had ever been. Good enough, she decided, as she always decided, to be in a men's magazine. As she often did, she hefted her breasts provocatively. They were larger than average, round and full and heavy, and the pink n*****s pouted invitingly. Andrea took her n*****s between her thumbs and forefingers and tried to put on one of the expressions she’d seen on the women in the magazines, like an animal in heat. I look more wholesome than sensuous, she decided. Even in her pose, she seemed to belong more in a woman's magazine than a man's.
Her n*****s grew hard between her fingers, Andrea felt the familiar pulsations. She let one breast go and pressed her hand against her mound of Venus, watching herself in the mirror. The pulsing turned into an aching.
Just like a teenager. She stepped into the shower. Showerheads sprayed her from everywhere.
She unwrapped a bar of soap she’d found in a wall inset. She ran her soapy hands over her breasts. I'll definitely stop doing this when I’m married to Michael.
Oh, why not?
She stepped up to one of the shower sprays. Opening her legs, she used both hands to pull her labia apart. It didn’t take long for her to reach orgasm.
Stepping out of the stall onto the luxurious bathmat, she took a towel from the wall rack.
When she opened the door to the bedroom, she saw the television was on. On the screen, two young women were having s*x on a blanket outdoors.
Andrea went to turn the television off. A woman was sitting in one of the armchairs.
“Who are you?” Andrea asked, hurriedly wrapping the towel around herself.
The woman was young, with wide, ingenuous eyes, a small, upturned nose, and straight blonde hair. She wore a jumpsuit like the others, open down to her waist.
She smiled. “Hi, Andrea. I'm Emmy. I'm your big sister.”
“You’re hardly old enough to be my big sister.”
“You know what I mean. I'll help you learn the routine here. You know.”
“Oh, God.”
“What's the matter?”
“What's the matter? I’m here against my will.”
“So am I. So are a lot of the people here. It's all right.”
“It's not all right. What's the matter with you? Why aren't you trying to escape? What do you think they're going to do with us when they're through with us? They're going to kill us.”
“You've really gotten yourself all worked up, Andrea. No one’s going to kill me, or you, or anyone. You're here to become what you are. When you're ready, they’ll send you back into the world.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You'll have to wait and see, then, won't you? Listen, I'm supposed to take you to dinner. We can talk while you eat.”
“Where can I find fresh clothes?”
Emmy opened the dresser at the foot of the bed and gave Andrea a clean jumpsuit. Andrea stood and held it, not moving.
“Oh, come on. You’ve never undressed in front of another woman before?”
Andrea turned her back before dropping the towel. She opened the front seam of the garment at the top and awkwardly tried to step into its legs.
“Let me help you. Sit on the bed.” Emmy took the garment back from Andrea. Andrea sat down. “All the seams open, but the easiest way is just to pull it on like a pair of pants.” Emmy knelt at Andrea's feet and guided them into the garment’s legs. “Stand up.”
Andrea stood. Emmy walked around behind her and helped her get her arms into the sleeves. Emmy moved in front of Andrea and put one hand inside her suit to hold one side of the front seam as she pressed the mating side against it with her other hand. She worked her hands up to Andrea’s navel, and then took her hands away. Her fingertips brushed lightly against Andrea's breast. “There.”
Andrea looked down and closed the seam several inches further.
“Okay. If you're ready now, let's go eat.”
They stepped into a long corridor with high ceilings, dark wooden wainscoting, and marble floors.
“What is this place?” Andrea asked. “Some kind of a castle?”
“Yeah. One of those robber barons built it about a hundred years ago.” As far down the corridor as Andrea could see, the walls were hung with nude paintings. “The founder was some kind of electronics genius. He's in his nineties now. He's a multi-billionaire, I understand. Come.” Emmy took Andrea's hand and led her down the hall.
“What's this guy's name?”
“I don't know. Everybody just calls him the Founder.”
- Writer
