Last week, I experienced things no human should ever have to.
Forced into a sinister game of Truth or Dare, I was essentially turned into a slave, a footsniffer, and even a cushion for the entire afternoon. And there was nothing I could do about it. With my mom hellbent on me being friends with my captor and threatening my summer against me if I couldn't find a way to get along with her, I was essentially handcuffed. Literally and metaphorically.
I had no one to tell about my torture from that afternoon, nobody to coincide with about it. Even if I did, would they believe me? It's just like Raegan said
"You want me to believe a girl made you sniff their dirty socks, handcuffed you, and sat on your face for an entire afternoon? Against your will? Sure they did, pervert."
Even if they did buy that story for a millisecond, believed that maybe some of those events may have actually occurred, all Raegan would have to do is spin together a story of how I made her fulfill my perverted fantasies and have regrets, or I'm making the whole thing uAp just because I don't like her, everyone has always been so mean to her, etc etc.
It's hopeless.
So, here I am again, pulling up to her house once more.
She sent me a couple of texts throughout the week saying she couldn't wait for me to come over and that she had a new game planned for us, but I never responded to them. I tried to convince mom I had plans to hang out at someone else's house this weekend, but she told me it was in my best interests to reschedule it.
I tried out plan B and acted like I was sick this morning, but she told me I could rest on the couch and watch tv with Raegan over here.
Safe to say, I've lost every battle so far and have no choice but to face the inevitable.
I stepped out of the car and shielded my eyes. The sun was directly overhead and shining without a cloud in the sky to dampen its rays. It stormed about 2 days ago, so the thick, muggy humidity that lingered in the air mixed with the already standard mid 90s temperature resulted in breaking a sweat if you're outside any longer than 30 seconds.
What can I say? Weather of the South. The main reason I try to stay inside and play videogames as often as possible. Who wants to stay out in this muggy shit and walk back inside feeling like you jumped in a creek? At least in the winter if you get cold you can just throw on another layer and you're good to go. With this summer heat, you sweat, then you sweat some more.
I make my way up the gravel path and into the house. Torture or not, at least there's AC inside.
This time I'm greeted at the door by Raegan herself.
Her presence almost immediately sent my body into fight or flight mode. Everything inside me screams "GET AWAY!!" but I'm forced to ignore these obvious signs and move forward instead.
I stutter out some form of a standard greeting, "O-Oh, hey Raegan. What's up?"
She smiles and opens her arms for a hug, "Lee! I was hoping you would come over today! I really wanted to hang out with you this week."
I glance at my mom, and she nods her head, signaling I better accept her hug and not be rude to my "friend". I hesitantly open my arms and enter her hug. She squeals in delight and squeezes me, like she is genuinely excited to see me.
"Aww, you guys really did become such good friends! I'm so happy!" her mom, Brandi, comments on the cute charade.
After a second, I let my arms drop to my sides, but Raegan holds on for just a little longer. As my mom walks past us and begins to conversate with Brandi, she whispers in my ear, "I can't wait for our next game, Slave."
She lets that last word ring in my ears for a second, giggling, before letting go and returning to her normal posture.
Today she is dressed in some unnecessarily tight daisy duke cutoffs, really putting her plump ass on display, and a white tank top with a plaid short sleeve button up thrown over it. Her blonde hair is thrown in a braid over her shoulder. I have to say from the male perspective, she genuinely is pretty hot.
And way out of my league, that's for sure.
If I didn't know the dangers she was capable of, I'd probably find myself ogling her for hours. My eyes linger a little too long on her toned sun-kissed legs before I catch myself, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. Don't go getting attracted to her. Hot or not, she's still a massive bitch and the bane of my existence.
Raegan walks over to the couch and pats a spot next to her, motioning for me to come sit next to her. I walk over and take a seat on the scene of last week's session. She begins to flip through the channels absentmindedly, obviously just passing the time as she waits for our parents to leave before breaking down into the details of today's game.
"Okay, we're heading out. If you guys decide to play outside today, make sure you hydrate! It's brutal out there." Brandi calls out as she begins to head out the door and start their walk down the dirt road.
"No worries, Mom. We will." Raegan answers in kind. As the door closes, Raegan kicks her legs across my lap, laying back on the couch.
"Aaah, finally. Go ahead and give me a foot massage while I explain today's game, Slave."
"I really wish you wouldn't call me that. Doing this stuff is bad enough."
"And I really wish my feet were being rubbed when I asked, Slave."
I stare at her in annoyance, but she stares right back with a smug face of superiority. She nods her head down to her feet, signaling for me to get started. "Go on. I don't want to make you. Yet."
I shift my gaze to her bare feet sitting in my lap. On the bright side, they at least looked clean, and I'm not currently being slapped in the face with a stench of BO from where they are like before.
I shrug my shoulders and get to work, running my hands along them, occasionally rubbing my thumb in circles along the sole of her feet. It feels like rubbing sandpaper as the occasional bits of her callused heels breaks off from the pressure of my hands.
"There you go, that's perfect. I knew you'd be great at it, Slave."
"I have a name." I say, repeating my distaste for her games.
"Yes, and I said it is Slave." There could be worse things than name-calling, I guess.
She clenches her toes, signaling me to get to work on those now. "Okay, I know you've been excited all week to get back to serving me, right?"
"Suure," I say sarcastically. "All I could dream about."
"Oh, don't worry. Me too. Only thing is last week I felt kinda bad because I felt like I strongarmed you into all our fun, made it really one sided and unfair."
I scoff, "One sided? Which part? The part where you shoved my face in your shoes, or maybe when you handcuffed my hands behind my back, gagged me, and sat on me till I passed out?" It felt gross just to say it out loud.