Re Porter

Annabelle Porter investigation

Abigail Porter

To: You

Good Afternoon Samantha,

Sorry to get in contact with you so out of the blue and so late in the day too, but I'm at an impasse and honestly feel better documenting this with someone in journalism rather than on some crappy hard drive I could be convinced to wipe later. Does that have your attention, Sam? I've got quite the story for you but I'll ask you not to go anywhere with it until I'm finished or... I'm finished! If I don't send you an email after seven days have passed, feel free to assume me compromised or whatever fancy word you want to use. That goes for future emails too, consider it my deadline haha.

I'm not the writer my sister is, or was. Her last letter to me was barely even legible, which is why I'm writing to you. If I just wanted to catch up and shoot the shit after years of not talking since high school I'd have reached out on socials or checked to see if your number is the same, but this is serious and so I've decided to communicate in a more fitting manner. Just be pleased I'm not mailing in, my handwriting is a fucking mess!

With that lengthy preamble over, you're probably wondering what this is all about. I've attached a series of letters my sister sent me since I left home, they should get you up to speed much quicker than I could. I feel a little weird sharing these but again I need this documented so why not with my trusted reporter buddy? Or, well, you work in the office with reporter folks at least right? I already tried the police and of course they didn't take this seriously, no surprise there right?

I'll be blunt. My sister, Anna, has been brainwashed. I understand how ridiculous that sounds but read those letters and you'll see what I mean. She's always been too straitlaced and uptight to play such a strange practical joke and besides, she's missing. By which I mean that I'm unable to find her or get in contact, at least. I tried to file a missing persons report and was told they got in contact and she confirmed that she's fine, no investigation needed. They wouldn't give me any more than that, where she was or any number or email. The old ones are a dead end.

She's not fine, though. I don't understand how it's even possible but she's had her entire personality changed over the course of a year, gone from the smartest person I know aiming for a doctorate to some braindead slut. As far as I can tell she's being kept like a pet in some lesbian sex cult, I can only imagine they've been drugging her or something unless we just stepped onto the set of some pornographic sci fi movie. Look, I know how insane this all is, it took me a month to process what I read in those letters. I'm looking into this on my own but I just needed some insurance in case I'm in way over my head here, either that or I'm delusional and you need to send someone to come check on me. Don't be too hasty Sam, at least consider that I might not be before you get me sent away!

Take your time with a response, I don't know if I expect to hear back from you or not. Spam filters these days, I wouldn't be surprised if this gets flagged.

Regards,

Abigail

* * *

RE: Annabelle Porter investigation

Abigail Porter

To: You

Hi,

Crickets. I can't say I'm surprised but I'm hoping you're just processing my last email. I need you to understand that I'm being completely serious, that was Anna's handwriting in those letters. In any case, I've been doing some digging. Is that a thing they say where you work? I visited the dorm that my sister moved into when she started college I at least confirmed that what she wrote in those letters was true, a group of blondes visited her room frequently. Increasingly more often as the weeks went on until she was finally kicked out of her accommodation. I just assumed she meant they threw her out because she was no longer a student, but apparently they don't do that until the year's up usually. According to the girls I questioned, she was reported for inappropriate conduct and removed that way. It was a little vague, but I can put two and two together when reading the contents of those letters. I know my sister, Sam, that isn't like her at all.

Here's the real kicker. I was there for ages trying to find the person who reported my sister but nobody would own up to it. I did manage to convince my way into her old room, though. I'm not going to sugar coat it, the place reeked of sex, some real frat house shit though I guess you could call them sorority sluts in this instance. I can't believe I'm using words like that in a sentence about Anna, this all feels like an elaborate April fools but I think we've missed the date considerably. They put those foam squares all over the walls, you know the zig-zag ones that online influencers use to soundproof their rooms. I looked it up and apparently they're not amazingly effective but even so, it got me thinking. This Maxine person could have been the one to report Anna herself as an excuse to get my sister living with her instead, some real underhanded cult tactic bullshit. What do you think???

I don't really have any other leads so I'm going to return there tomorrow and do some more asking around, I just don't know what else to do. Nobody claims to know Maxine, her name isn't even listed in the people taking Anna's major. That's including dropouts.

Speak to you soon,

Abigail

* * *

I'm onto something

Abigail Porter

To: You

Sam,

If these are going to your spam folder I'm gonna be super pissed. In any case, I'm more just writing these for a backed up record and honestly? Personal catharsis. I really have become my sister, let's hope I don't meet the same fate. I could probably learn more caution to avoid that, to tell you the truth, as I had one heck of a day. I almost can't believe it myself and I was there, so I've got a fat chance of convincing world renowned sceptic Samantha Lane.

Like the subject line stated, I'm getting closer to the truth, though I'm not too sure how to retell this without seeming like some perverted lesbian voyeur. I've got a boyfriend for the record, though he sometimes goes by Connie so maybe I'm a little bi. Remember that godawful kiss back when we were in school? Those were simpler times, though you stole my first and I still don't forgive you for that!

Okay, I'll try my best to summarise what happened without devolving into smut. I still need to consider that you might actually read these. Emphasis on try though, it was a wild fucking time. As I stated in yesterday's email, I returned to Anna's college dorm to ask around some more and maybe investigate her room more thoroughly if I could persuade the occupants. Well I was on my way up there when I spotted a gang of blondes and when I say gang, that's really the vibe they gave off. In the centre of their little group was a shy looking redhead who didn't fit well with them AT ALL. I think her glasses were too big for her, kept having to push the round things back up her nose... it was kind of adorable, but it also had a pit forming in my stomach. I thought, doesn't this seem familiar? A bookish girl being led around by giggling airheads. Suddenly I was worried that these were the bitches I was looking for, they dressed eerily similar to one another and just seemed far too vapid to be in college. I know that seems a harsh assessment given we were just passing by, but Sam it was cartoonish, like stereotypical depiction of a bimbo. I've worn a blonde wig and blown bubbles in the bedroom before to entertain Connor's kinks and I swear they were outdoing me here, out in public!

Of course I followed them, desperate and reckless as I am, all the way back to that mousy ginger's room. I'm not a complete idiot, however, I kept my distance and noted down the room number so I could investigate it later without making myself a target for the blonde bunch. I'm not really their type, I suppose, already dropped out without any need for intervention on their part. Anna wasn't among them anyway, or I'd have grabbed her arm and yanked it so hard it knocked the dye out of her hair.

So you know when I said I'm not a complete idiot? Perhaps I was too hasty, haha. I left for lunch at a local place Anna used to take me to all the time, kind of embarrassing how much she acted the parent to me when we popped out seconds apart but what can you do? It was pretty nice, nostalgic, but who did I spot on the other side of the street but that blonde posse sans redhead walking into town? They stand out pretty well, so it didn't need a second glance. I wolfed down my meal like a girl possessed and practically sprinted back to the dorm, turns out I didn't need to note down the room number as it was seared into my memory anyway. Polite gal I am, I knocked on the door and waited patiently for a response. I couldn't be sure if the girl was with them or not from the view through sandwich shop window, they did seem to surround her rather disquietingly. No answer, it only made me more curious. If she was in there, would it be right to leave things be? They could have done anything to her right?

I contemplated breaking in but when I tried the handle the door was unlocked anyway. I guess it's still breaking in if I'm an uninvited guest? I should probably know this, I wanted to be a lawyer once upon a time, when I didn't realise how fucking hard that is. With as innocent a whistle as I could blow, I let myself into the girl's room cautiously. Wouldn't be a great look if I got caught, the police already know me. Room was empty, to clarify this dorm has single rooms rather than shared ones which is probably why Maxine's gang chose it as their 'hunting grounds' or whatever you'd like to call it. God I'm such a dork, I was treating this college dorm room like a crime scene but can you blame me when I lost my only family to these weirdos? So yeah, I combed the place for evidence. Imprints on the bed that showed where they had been sitting, random candy wrappers thrown about in a mess, a vibrator sitting on the desk with no batteries and a few rings of different coloured lipstick reaching down to the base of the shaft. Guess they were taking turns but couldn't turn the damn thing on, it was at this point I should have realised where they were going in town and... that they wouldn't be long at all.

Like a scene out of a corny movie, I heard the handle of the door turn and felt temperature leave my body. In that moment I was sub-zero, pale as a sheet, mind scrambling for control over my fingers and toes. I knew all too well what being caught could lead to and so I wrestled my limbs back under control and hid myself in the closet. As if it wasn't tropey enough, right? Probably the most surreal moment of my adult life.

The girls spilled inside, giggles and gossip, sitting the redhead on the bed while they took turns telling her she'd be prettier blonde... or that she needs to relax... or that her wardrobe needs to cater for when she doesn't have a funeral to attend, too. You get the picture, unlike Anna this timid creature was far too passive. Or perhaps my sister was like this too after they softened her up, whatever they do it's fucking effective. The girl just ate it all up meekly, tensing up when a trio of blondes clambered onto her mattress to surround her while the others set batteries into toy and watched it whirr to life.

I watched through the slits in the closet door like I was a final girl, if one of these blondes was Maxine I certainly couldn't tell which. They certainly didn't do much talking, which surprised me given how wordy Annabelle proclaimed her 'bestie' to be during their one on ones. I realised I had no way of telling if they used the same methods for every girl or how 'far along' this one was by now. You see how abnormal all of this is? If I go missing too, please don't sleep on this story, you always had such a twinkle in your eye when you talked about journalistic integrity and all that crap.

This where the real fun begins. Two of the girls clinging to redhead's arms unwrapped some red fruit lollipop and started tracing it over her lips. At first they just did that for a while, mousy's lips taking on a nice candy sheen, but when the one holding her shoulders from behind leaned down and whispered something... so close her tongue was practically in the poor thing's ear... the girl's lips finally parted as if pried open by phantom fingers. She started sucking on the lolly as they giggled and called her a good girl, you could see the panic in her eyes slowly fade as she stroked her tongue over cherry red. Even in my letterbox view I watched her expression transform, those eyes starting to glaze, just what were they giving her? Last I checked sugar isn't a sedative, right?

Fingers crept over her knees and traced up her thighs while she was distracted. The other blondes finally figured out how to put the batteries in the vibrator and it dawned on me that these bimbos are probably as dumb as they act, they were probably just like Anna and this redhead once upon a time. They descended upon the dazed girl like a pack of hungry wolves, removing her glasses and letting her hair down with accompanying giggles that told her it was all just silly fun. A hand from either side pulled her legs apart while fingers in front pressed against her underwear to check something. If she was wet? I guess I can buy that the candy they're giving her is an aphrodisiac too, why the hell not at this point right? They seemed more than satisfied, pulling the panties to one side as they stuffed her sex with that buzzing toy, a palm applying gentle pressure until it burrowed all the way inside.

The moans still ring in my ears. She panted and groaned and cried in one moment, only for that strange candy and the constant hushed giggles to wash it all away. In those moments of 'enlightenment' as I heard one of them jokingly refer to it, the girl would simply blank out or let out long and mindless strings of empty giggling. As dumb as she was overstimulated, tongues filling her ears in stereo and telling her god knows what when they weren't plugging them up entirely.

By the time her first orgasm came, she wasn't herself anymore. They had her reciting the alphabet backwards at first, but when that proved too difficult told her to do it in the usual order. It was a good effort, but they tended to tweak her body somewhere or play with the vibrator between her legs whenever she started doing well and in the never end she never made it all the way through. In fact, she started getting much, much worse as the teasing continued. After a while it was like she'd drooled out half the letters, letting out an airy giggle every time she had to admit she didn't remember what came next.

I told you this would be difficult to write without it seeming like my hazy sex dreams but I promise you it happened. When she eventually passed out, the blondes just left her on the bed and took the toy with them. I'll admit I was too paranoid to leave the closet for a while after, something I know you never had much trouble with. Eventually I found the courage to pry open that flimsy wooden door and stepped over to the bed. Standing over that still panting redhead, breathing in potent arousal as my eyes traced down the stains on her face and dripping down her messy tights... I think I imagined my sister in a similar state and the reality of all of this hit me. I softly opened her mouth and she moaned the second I touched her, back arching up towards me as a new source of pleasure. Carefully I plucked the candy from her mouth, the replacement they gave her towards the end after she finished the first. It was still half there, glistening with spit and reflecting light from the room blindingly. Thinking I could use it for something, evidence maybe, I took it and fled.

This email is getting too long, but please bear with me. Maybe I'm worried I won't be quite so verbose in the near future! Seriously, I'm worried. Let me explain, this was just an hour ago as of writing this but... I realised that taking the candy didn't really do much for me. I couldn't go take it to be analysed at a lab like on television nor could I trust the police to do anything other than throw it in the trash the moment my back's turned. My stupid brain kept replaying that insanity from the dorm room and I'm ashamed to admit how heated I got, sitting alone in my hotel room. As messed up as the situation was, my straightness was being put to the test trying not to get off to such an exhilarating experience. That's got to be a formative memory even at my age, right? I pushed that sticky coating against my lips and brushed it over them just like how I'd seen them do it to her, before taking into my mouth and testing it first hand.

I won't tell you I was disappointed when it had no effect on me, that would be far too humiliating to admit. It's been lonely here and I left my pot at Connor's place, that's all. Still, I intend to make the most of that rash impulse and get myself tested for drugs tomorrow, claiming that I think I was spiked or something and I'm worried over what's in my system. Sure, they'll find the weed too, but sacrifices must be made and it's basically legal here anyway right?

Regards,

Abigail

* * *

I think I've been drugged, but nobody believes me!

Abigail Porter

To: You

No, not from the lollipop. At least not that I'm aware of, though perhaps they're lying about that too? I took the test like I said in my email last week and the results came back negative, at least for anything I wasn't expecting. Just a normal piece of candy as far as medical science is concerned, so that lead was shot. I felt pretty down, haven't had enough to send you another email for a while and given the radio silence I'm not seeing much urgency.

At least I wasn't until what went down the other day. I finally met her, Maxine. I told you I'd been going around asking about Anna a whole lot, right? Well things were finally looking up for me after days of getting nowhere. I was approached by a girl in the dorm who quickly reminded me with her looks that blondes can be elegant too, I'd been far too accustomed with airheads since delving down this rabbit hole I must admit. She dressed smart and carried herself well, how was I supposed to know she was the ringleader of those sluts who took my sister?

She told me her name was Angel, her long pink nails practically digging into my hand when she offered a shake. Her presence was intimidating somehow, like she was assessing me with no stone left unturned through the rose gold frame of her glasses. The eyewear was as sharp as the stare they housed, quite an effective combination for making those they set upon feel small and unworthy. Angel told me she had information about my sister but that she wanted to speak somewhere safer, more neutral. Despite standing in such a public place I didn't question her, no, I couldn't.

I was given instructions to meet her in the library, top floor, and in a flash she was gone. The short exchange was such a blur, though my watch told me otherwise. I've been watching rapid induction hypnosis videos online for the past hour as paranoia stirs, there's no chance in hell that she used that brief handshake to hypnotise me right? Like even I think I sound crazy here, but I'm watching videos of it being done and even if they seem fake as shit to me people swear they're legit. It was strange to shake hands in that context though, I never really questioned it at the time.

The only thought that crossed my mind when I sat down at the table on the college library's top floor was: "Is this the table that Anna was sitting at when she hosted that ill fated study group?"