Brig ran her hand through her short, black hair, the cool air sending a pleasant chill across her scalp. She'd had a good set, especially for such an early one. Sure, she hadn't had quite the crowd you get after midnight, but she'd seen how everyone was dancing, and she'd heard the cheers. When you get them moving and warmed up for the headliners like that, promoters notice, and bigger and better gigs follow.
She just wished her sister Gabby could have seen it. EDM had never been Gabby's thing — the studious girl preferred what she called, "art music," and shied away from anything with a pounding bass. But still, she'd always been supportive of her younger sister, and even showed up to cheer when Brig started gigging. And even when Brig could tell she'd rather be sitting in a concert hall or studying, Gabby always found something supportive to say about Brig's music. She remembered what her sister had said after the last show she'd attended: "I really enjoyed the complexity of it. It's some of the only dance music I've heard that's interesting, even if you don't really like dancing."
Sometime between Gabby's diplomatic review and their lunch date the next afternoon, the girl had disappeared. Brig had been looking for her ever since.
The scene she saw as she passed the pile of packing material roused Brig from her thoughts. She tried her best to ignore the couple going at it so near her car. It was a warehouse party, and if a girl wanted to suck her boyfriend off amidst the industrial detritus, more power to her.
Well, at least in theory. Something about the two made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The man was dressed in black slacks and a black button-down, which immediately marked him as a little old for the scene. He was leaning against a cracked retainer wall in the small parking lot nestled behind the warehouse, with the girl kneeling on a palette at his feet, enthusiastically gulping in a shimmering tutu and crop top, brightly colored thigh-high socks the frizzy strands of a pink bob that could have been a wig, fluttering festively in the breeze.
Getting closer confirmed her initial impression. The girl looked to be in her late teens or early twenties, while the man was at least a decade older. And the location was... well, just wrong, somehow. Sure, there was a stack of crates and palettes that mostly obscured the scene from the direction of the warehouse, but they were still near to the party and exposed, with the girl directly beneath an overhead lamp that left the guy's face in shadows. And the way they were setup right in front of her van gave Brig the creeps as well; particularly since she didn't remember all of those palettes setup quite like that a few hours ago, when she'd loaded in. For a moment, she had the crazy impression that it was all setup for her benefit.
And then there was their manner. With the pounding bass leaking out across the lot, she couldn't make out what they were saying, but the man was not acting like a typical man getting a blowjob. She watched over her shoulder as he looked down at the girl with his arms crossed, then tapped her on the head. She pulled off, and looked up while he spoke some direction down to her, then got back to work. He reached down and patted her on the head. A moment later, the episode repeated. This time, she seemed to be licking it from the base to the tip, the man guiding her head, making delicate adjustments with his fingertips.
And then, as Brig loaded her last piece of gear into the back, she heard the girl giggle. Gabby had always been self-conscious about her laugh, but if you caught her at just the right time with just the right joke, she'd let out the most cute, girly giggle you'd ever heard. Brig would recognize it anywhere, and she'd just heard it.
And before she could rethink it or contemplate how this party girl who looked so different could possibly be her sister, she called out, "Gab?"
The girl pulled off the cock with a pop, then mumbled something apologetic and dove back down.
"It's okay," the man said, no doubt raising his voice loud enough for Brig to hear it. "You can say, 'hi.'"
"Hi, Eva," the girl called, turning her head to look over her shoulder. "Babygirl missed you so much! Come here and chat, 'kay?"
Brig shivered. She pretty much exclusively went by Brig these days. Every moment she wasn't looking for her sister was spent on her music career. No one called her "Eva" or "Ev" anymore but her family and old friends. And no one would dare call a girl as reserved and dignified as Gabby, "Babygirl" — least of all herself.
Brig had once walked in on Gabby with her boyfriend feeling her breasts up over her clothes, and her sister had shut herself into her room for two hours before coming out and saying, in a sober voice, "I apologize for that display, can we please not mention it again?"
Now, here she was, motioning Brig over so she could make small talk while sucking on her... captor? Client? Sugar daddy? Whoever the fuck this scumbag who made her call him 'Daddy' was, Brig wanted her sister and herself as far away from him as possible.
"Why don't you stand up and come over here so I can give you a hug, Gabby. We've all been worried about you."
"Is it okay, Daddy?"
"Sure, Babygirl. Why don't you put me away and introduce me to your lovely and talented sister?"
"Thanks, Daddy!" she said, giving him one more lick for good measure, before carefully tucking him away. "This is my stepsister Eva. Isn't she sexy? She goes by Brig 'cuz she looks like Bridgette Bardot... especially those lips!" she said, giving Brig a decidedly un-sisterly once over. "And Brig, this is my Daddy, and he's like, sooo mmmmm...."
Her eyes fluttered closed and she pressed against him, sliding down his body as if on autopilot. "Daddy" grabbed her hand and pulled her back up, turning her back towards Brig with just a hint of a smirk.
"Sorry," he said in a voice that made Brig want to punch him, "I believe her mind is still on her lessons, isn't it Babydoll?"
Gabby giggled. "Uh huh! Daddy has been teaching me so many things," she said, the last words garbled as her thumb went into her mouth, apparently practicing whatever she'd just learned from the man Brig was now sure had kidnapped and brainwashed her sister.
Brig stared. Gabby's wig had slipped halfway off her head, and the man pulled it the rest of the way off, setting it on the top of the low wall. Without it, her appearance was even more shocking. She'd always been a big girl, with wide shoulders and hips, large breasts, and a soft body that earned her more attention than she was comfortable with, which she'd played down with loose clothes and long hair draped down her chest. Now, she oozed sex. Her breasts were even larger, obscenely thrust up by her top and emphasized all the more by her bald head. She'd lost some weight since she disappeared, but still had a bit of a tummy, which pouted cutely beneath her crop top.
Gabby had had an instinctive dislike of any sort of body modification; she'd been almost eighteen when she got her ears pierced, and she'd never even consider a tattoo, much less an implant — or so Brig had thought. Now, both her pout and her breasts were obviously enhanced. Her eyebrows had been replaced by tattooed, high arches, her tongue was pierced, and across her left breast, in fluorescent pink, curly script outlined by equally blinding orange was written, "Daddy's girl," with a little heart dotting the "i." Her belly button was pierced, and along her waistline, partly covered by the skirt, were the words, "Rub for luck," although whether it referred to what was immediately above it, below it, or both, Brig didn't want to think about.
And those are just the changes I can see, Brig thought with a shiver. She decided to stall for time, patting her pockets to find her phone.
"Are you a teacher... from her college?"
"Oh, no, not that kind of teacher. She's more like my apprentice," the man said. "As in a traditional a master-apprentice sort of relationship," he added with an oily smile, making sure she understood the implication.
"Right," Brig muttered, finding her phone and silently sliding her hand into it to unlock it with her finger. She mentally pictured the layout of her apps, trying to remember exactly where the phone app was. Find and press the call app, three numbers, and send. Maybe she could do it without him ever noticing. "Uh, I'd like her to come back with me tonight so we can catch up. Just to let people see her and know she's okay."
"Oh, would you? What people? You're her only family, aren't you?"
"And this is family business, so if you please-"
"Don't you care what your sister has to say about it?" he interrupted.
Brig winced. Her finger had skimmed the screen. She could have pressed anything. She'd been hopelessly optimistic — there was no way she'd be able to call 911 without looking. Brig took a deep breath and quickly pulled her phone out, shaking it to turn on the camera. She pressed the video button, pointing it right at the man.
"Listen, Andy. That's my sister, not your fucking dog. She's coming with me, or I'm going to call the cops and let them know she's being trafficked and brainwashed, and show them exactly who has done it."
The man put his hand to his mouth, as if to stifle a chuckle, then murmured something. With no warning, Gabby launched herself at Brig so quickly that the girl jumped back.
"Gabby, no!"
But her sister wasn't attacking her, she was pleading, clutching at her legs, begging her to "not take, Daddy away."
"I'm trying to help, Gabby! This man has done something to your brain. You're not like this; you're a smart, reserved girl who doesn't even kiss before the third date. You thought I was a slut because I went down on a boy I'd been dating for a month!"
She looked in alarm between the implacable sister immobilizing her against the front of her van and the man, bending down to lift up the phone she'd dropped when Gabby had knocked into her.
"Come back, Babygirl. Nice and calm for Daddy," he said, making a kissing sound.
Instantly, Gabby's anxiety seemed to melt to nothing.
