"Goddamnit!" Desiree exclaimed through gritted teeth as memories came flooding back. What she had done, what had been done to her. How could this happen here, of all places, and how did Dr. Davis get one of those? Some therapist in the middle of nowhere shouldn't be able to get their hands on one. Desiree glanced down at the watch in her hand and scowled at it. In a fit of pained rage she tried to throw it against the far wall.
Something compelled her to stop mid-swing, however, and she ended up just holding it out in front of her. She couldn't risk destroying the watch, and that was the truth of it.
Leaping from her bed, Desiree gently placed the watch back in the lockbox, which sat open on the floor next to her bed. She kicked it roughly, shoving it back under the bed. She didn't bother to check if the lid had closed or if it were sufficiently hidden in the back corner. She couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.
Desiree began to pace around the room, her naked breasts jiggling with the force of her steps. She began to calm down as she turned her thoughts to the problem in front of her. Davis needed to be removed, that much was clear, but it was also obvious that she couldn't risk acting alone, lest he entrance her again.
She couldn't rely on Mavis or Samantha either, the two people she trusted most in this town. No women would do, in fact. She knew that much. She would need a man, and there was only one available to her right now.
Desiree walked over to her dresser, opening drawers and picking out clothes. She meticulously chose the most conservative set of underwear she owned and the baggiest sweatpants and sweatshirt in her collection. She needed to send a message to Jason that she was not the same person he had met last night.
***
"Remember, Desiree! Oh, Desiree!" Jason's phone blared, waking him from his sleep. He reached over to his phone and woke it up to stop the alarm. He silently cursed it. Most days it was pretty cool to be woken up by a random song from his library, but it seemed his phone had a twisted sense of humor this morning. He had always been such a big Neil Diamond fan too.
Jason sat up in his bed and looked at the door. Beyond it were three she-devils. His parents would have gotten along with them, he was sure. But he would never have set foot in this place if he had known laid within.
"It was just one night," Jason tried to console himself. "Maybe I can talk with them, get them to stop." He didn't really believe himself.
He nearly leapt out of his skin when someone knocked on his door.
"Hello?" a female voice called from the other side.
Slowly, carefully, Jason stood and made his way to the door. He turned the knob and opened the door just a crack. With a wary eye he peered through it.
Desiree was in the hall, her eyes meeting his.
"Jason," she said, making no move to force the door open. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I...I really need your help. Desperately."
Jason found himself speechless over the difference in Desiree's tone from the night before. More subdued, less sultry. He glanced at her clothes, pleasantly surprised to see that she in fact was wearing some. Even more so to see that they were baggy sweats rather than lingerie. He took a deep breath and opened the door the rest of the way.
"Listen, about last night," he began.
"Yeah, I need to talk to you about last night," Desiree interrupted. "Can I speak to you in your room?"
Jason blinked a few times, uncertain as to what to do. "OK," he finally said, stepping out of the doorway.
Desiree walked into the room, taking deep breaths. Jason closed the door shut.
"I wasn't myself last night," Desiree said, turning to face her newest housemate.
"Well, you didn't seem to be drunk," Jason commented.
Desiree shook her head. "No. I don't know if the others told you much about me."
"Mavis said that you're super smart," Jason said, "and that you've been seeing a therapist to help with some issues you've been having."
The blonde woman chuckled. "That Mavis, such a gossip. Well, at least it's saved me some effort in explaining." She took a deep breath. "I was coming back from an appointment when I met you last night."
"Yeah, I seem to remember that," Jason commented.
"And, well," Desiree continued, blushing and scratching her head as if she was trying to find the words. "He...did something...to me."
"Did he drug you or something?" Jason asked. "Please don't tell me it's hypnosis, because I don't believe in that shit."
Desiree chuckled, glancing away from her roommate. "You have no idea," she whispered.
"What was that?" Jason asked.
"Nothing," Desiree replied. "Can you help me? I want to go see if...there's any evidence in his office, before campus opens. But I don't want to go alone."
Jason nodded slowly, trying to absorb all this. "OK, one question though. Whatever he did to you, did he make you do it to Mavis and Samantha too?"
Desiree hesitated for a moment. "Yes," she answered in a flat tone.
Jason studied his housemate for a moment. A part of him wanted to tell her to just go away after everything she'd put him through the previous night. Not to mention that her story sounded suspicious and fanciful. But looking at her now was really like looking at a different person. Her clothes, her tone, her way of carrying herself, it was all a dramatic shift from when he had last seen her. That, Jason thought, at least merited his curiosity.
Sighing deeply, he reached out to grab his jacket. "I'll meet you downstairs."
"Thank you," Desiree said quietly before exiting the room.
Jason switched out the basketball shorts he had worn to bed for a pair of jeans and put his phone in his jacket pocket. He grabbed his keys and put on his beanie and pairs of socks and tennis shoes before heading downstairs.
"Where are you going, Desiree?" he heard someone ask as he stepped out into the hallway.
"Oh, um," Desiree responded. "I just asked Jason to help me with something."
"Well, I hope you will be pleasing to him," the other person responded.
"...Yeah, sure," Desiree replied after a short wait.
Jason walked down the stairs and was greeted by quite the sight. Mavis was standing at the threshold between the entrance hall and the living room while Samantha sat on the couch. Both were as naked as the day they were born.
"Ah, Master," Mavis said as she caught sight of him. "I trust this is a pleasing way to start the morning." She did a little flourish with her hands, gesturing to her body, which still looked good despite appearing to be somewhere in her late 30s or early 40s. Her B-cup boobs seemed to be fairly perky, despite her age.
Jason stood there, mouth agape, uncertain of what to do in the moment. He glanced at Desiree, who clearly was not acting like she had been the previous night whereas the other two were. She was averting her eyes from the scene, focusing her gaze on the front door.
Mavis stepped forward, laying a hand on Jason's chest. "Would like me to service you, Master? Or perhaps Sam will be more to your liking? We can make it quick if your business with Desiree is urgent."
"Stop it!" Jason yelled, recoiling away from his landlady's touch. "Stop it with the weird master-sex slave thing!"
