It was mid-afternoon. She was sure of it. She could hear the alarm ringing, but that couldn't possibly be right: Jill just knew that she had set her alarm for 9:30am. Rolling over onto her side, a twinge of a headache as she propped herself up and glanced at her alarm. Pushing dark hair out of the way of her green eyes she read the time as 2:27pm. With a groan she started to get up, pushing the sheets off of her naked body.
She glanced back at as she stood up, wincing in pain. Her toned derriere glared bright red back at her. It looked like it was starting to bruise. Walking gingerly, and feeling a bit of pain between her thighs, Jill limped her way through the kitchen to get some ice water. As she poured herself a glass she pondered the previous night. She couldn't recall much, though she distinctly remembered leaving work with a few co-workers and heading out to a bar. They trickled out one by one, and she recalled being one of the last to get ready to leave. Then... nothing. Nothing at all.
As Jill sipped the glass of water she realized that her throat was sore. Swallowing down what she could, she took inventory of her body. Her small c-cup breasts felt sore, and the normally pink nipples stood out like angry red peaks. Her well toned bottom had clearly taken a beating. The pain between her thighs and a bit of puffiness was all the additional proof that she required to conclude that she had been taken advantage of the previous night. To her, that conclusion didn't make complete sense though: who would do something like that to her, then drop her off in her own apartment like nothing had happened.
Limping back into her bedroom she gingerly changed into a bathrobe and considered her next move. It might be best to go to the police station and take a rape kit, then report her last known whereabouts before she lost her memory. That would net her some sort of progress in the right direction, though she wasn't sure that she trusted the statistics when it came to processing that sort of thing.
Limping into the living room gave her another shock: everything but the tv had been moved into the dining room and laundry room. She looked around for her clothing from last night, hoping to find her phone. She found a pile of her discarded work clothes in the corner of the living room, along with her purse. Glancing around at the furniture which had been moved, she wondered who had brought her home and why they had felt the need to re-arrange her living room. As she turned to the tv her stomach twisted in a knot as she noticed the envelope taped to the screen.
[PLAY ME]
With a gulp, Jill walked slowly toward the television. Gingerly, almost afraid that it would bite her fingers off, she peeled the envelope off of the screen and opened it. She didn't know what would be inside, but she was guessing that it wouldn't be good. Inside was a disc, with only some writing scrawled on it in marker.
[JILL SCREEN TEST]
Her mind did two things in quick succession: it jumped to all of the most horrific possibilities of what could be on the the disc, then it shut down completely. She stood there staring at the disc for a long minute. Whoever had brought her home and done... whatever it was that they had done to her, obviously wanted her to see what was on the disc. She was almost tempted to toss it into the microwave and fry it, but she knew that she would dwell on what might have been on it. Swallowing, she steeled her nerves and decided that whatever it was on the disc, it couldn't be worse than what her imagination could conjure.
Turning on the television and DVD player. Dragging a chair back in from the laundry room, she took a deep breath and popped the DVD in. She couldn't help but notice that the input had already been switched over to the correct HDMI. Something about the fact that they had taken the time to do something like that while forcing her to drag a chair back into the room irked her.
Gingerly she sat down as images flickered onto the screen.
~~~~~
The video is a bit low quality. The camera pans out into a shot of an alleyway. Low-level background noise indicates that it's outside of a night club. The focus comes in on a young woman standing in the alleyway. Brushing dark hair away from her green eyes, she smiles at the camera. A deep male voice begins speaking.
"Well hi there."
"Hi there..."
The woman's voice is playful, her accent southern, and her words aren't particularly slurred. The man speaks again.
"What's your name?"
"Jill."
"What's your full name?"
"Jill Kingsley."
"What were you saying to me in the club just now?"
The young woman bites her lip and looks up and to the side, as though remembering. If one were a cynic, one might think that she was remembering a line that had been fed to her before the camera had started filming.
"I was saying that I needed a hundred dollars to fix my car."
"Do you really need a hundred dollars to fix your car?"
"No."
"Then why do you want a hundred dollars?"
Jill giggled at the camera.
"Because I like money!"
"Well what are you willing to do for a hundred dollars Jill?"
"Anything you want baby."
"Anything?"
"Yeah..."
After a moment's pause the girl looks the off-screen camera man up and down as though on cue. The camera pans up and down her figure in kind. Her business attire left a lot to the imagination.
"Well first let's see just what you've got baby. Unbutton that blouse for me."
"Okay."
The young woman unsnapped the buttons on the thick, white top. She made sure to face the camera as she did so, waiting until the last second before pulling the folds of the blouse apart. The camera is treated to the sight of her white sports bra standing out against her light skin.
"How big are those tits of yours Jill?"
"They're a c-cup."
"Let's see them."
Still smiling, Jill stripped off the blouse and dropped it onto the ground. Unsnapping a strap in the back, she pulled off the white sports bra and tossed it down to join the blouse. She holds still as the camera focuses in on her firm breasts and the little pink nipples crowning them. A hand reached out and fondled each of them in turn, making certain to tweak her nipples. Jill continued smiling, unphased, as he began to roughly maul her breasts with his hands.
"Do you like this kind of thing Jill?"
"Yeah."
"Do you do this a lot?"
"Anytime I need a hundred dollars."
"Which is?"
