Category: emotional abuse

‘Creeps,’ an Erotic Horror Novel, Chapter Ten

[sexual content]

A man took Petunia back to her room. 

“Strip,” the man said. 

As she was unbuttoning her white dress shirt, she thought, that lawyer and government worker paid no attention to my writing ‘Help me’ on their hands…as I knew they wouldn’t. I’ve seen them walking about here before: they must be working for Mark and Capitol in one way or another. 

She was in only her white bra and panties now. The man was ogling her with a smile. 

“Keep going,” he said. “Let’s see the rest of you.” 

She removed her bra, showing him her firm little breasts and thinking, I saw Guy’s eyes: he doesn’t believe Thea, either. He believes I like to fuck the clients here. I’m trapped here. She won’t be able to get me out. I’ll have to escape myself, or die trying. 

She’d pulled down the panties, and her bare feet kicked them aside. The man looked up and down at her nakedness. 

“Good,” he said. “We have a customer waiting for you.” 

**************** 

Thea went to a Starbucks, sat at a table, and stared at the Frappucino she’d bought. Guy didn’t leave with her from Capitol: he said he wanted to meet up with a friend. 

What am I going to do? she thought. I can’t get anyone to believe me, not even Guy. When I got in my car, I saw him going to the bus stop, so I guess he isn’t going back into Capitol. He’d better not be: I’ll kill him if he fucks Petunia again. But what can I do? I can’t stop him, or any guy from paying to have her. 

Suddenly, a recording of the chorus of ‘Sisters Are Doing It for Themselves’, by the Eurythmics and Aretha Franklin, was playing on her phone, telling her she had a text message: 

I work for Capitol. I can help you. Let’s meet in the Eastview Shopping Mall tonight, in front of the Starbucks. Will you be available at 8:00? I can be there then. 

Whoever this was didn’t leave a name, she thought. He must know it’s dangerous to snitch on the company. He must be a he: other than the enslaved prostitutes, what woman would ever work in such a degrading place? Ms. Kay must not know how corrupt LeSaffre is. 

Thea replied to the text message with, “I’ll see you there at 8:00 tonight.” 

***************** 

Jim read her reply on his cellphone. He thought, I’m a dead man for doing this; Mark surely is tracing my calls and text messages. But I can’t live with myself for doing what I’ve been doing. 

He watched the video screen showing the room nude Petunia went into. Then he saw the man about to have her enter. Jim’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw his face. 

Thank God they put an orange Creep up her pussy to make her compliant with him, Jim thought. I don’t wanna speak her words for her, the way I feel. Can’t believe that prick wants to fuck her so soon after that fake meeting. 

“So good to see you again, Petunia,” Guy said as he unzipped his pants. “I knew you liked your job.” 

She looked up at him as she knelt and took his cock in her mouth. He looked down and saw tears in her eyes. 

“What the…?” he said, then he moaned from the wet massaging of her lips and tongue. He raised his head and closed his eyes. 

She put her hand up his left pant leg. He felt her finger tickling his leg, rubbing a straight line down in a stroke. 

“Oh, don’t do that, baby,” he said, then he felt two more strokes, a short horizontal one, then another top-down one: an H. “Wait…oh!” Her writing and sucking were distracting him from the experiencing of either. “H…ah!…E…oh!” 

She wrote L…P, then H-E-L-P again. 

“Holy…shit!” he grunted. His heart was racing from both the feeling of her flickering tongue stimulating the underside of his cock, and from putting the evidence all together: her robot-like talking in the room with Mark, Thea, Kay, and Brennan; her writing finger; and the tears in her eyes. His brain was going in opposite directions—pleasure and guilt from what her mouth was doing. 

He came in her mouth, and saw some of it drip down her chin; but he also admitted to himself that he saw the tears in her eyes, at last, and he felt ‘HELP’ written on his leg again. 

“Thea…was right,” he panted as he put his dick back in his pants and zipped them up. He fell to his knees and faced Petunia eye to eye. Now he had tears in his eyes to mirror hers. “I’m so sorry, Petunia.” 

He wrapped his arms around her and fought to refrain from weeping. She put her arms around him and held him close. 

“You must hate me,” he whispered into her ear, burying his wet face into her neck. Now her finger was writing on his arm. 

N-O. 

“You…don’t?” he asked. “After what I’ve done?” 

N-O. 

“Can’t you speak?” he whispered in her ear. 

N-O. 

Keeping his mouth close to her ear and his voice as soft as he could, he said, “We’ve got to get you out of here.” 

Y-E-S. (Her hand was always shaky…) 

“And you like me, even though I took advantage of you here?” 

Y-E-S. (…yet her finger wrote with sufficient clarity.) 

“Did Capitol…drug you in some way?” 

Y-E-S. 

Of course, he thought; her shaky writing finger, struggling to communicate with me, proves how little control she has over her own body. “They’re controlling what you say, what you do?” 

Y-E-S. 

His erection was returning. Her writing finger is expressing her real thoughts, he thought; if she insists she still likes me, even after fucking her twice, maybe she’ll be OK with a third fuck. “They’re watching, and listening, aren’t they?” This was his softest volume yet. 

Y-E-S. 

“They’ll get suspicious if we don’t fuck, right?” 

Y-E-S. 

“Since you like me, even after what I did…and I feel like an asshole for asking, but I’ll respect your wishes if you answer no. Is it OK if we fuck again?” 

Y-E-S. 

“Really? You mean that?” 

Y-E-S. 

He looked in her eyes and smiled. Her tears were gone. Her smile seemed less artificial. 

“OK,” he said, unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard cock again. “I’ll be gentle. I promise.” 

He slid his cock inside her slowly, her sighing softly. As he pushed in and pulled out, he panted these words: “I’ll talk…to Thea…about…a plan…to get…you out…of here. Unh!” 

******************* 

“Good, they’re fucking again,” Free Mark said to Jim as they watched Guy and Petunia in the Regulating Room. “I didn’t like that pause between the blow job and now.” 

“You think he was whispering a secret message in her ear?” Jim asked. 

“It’s very possible,” Free Mark said. “When I walked in here, right when he came in her mouth, he didn’t look happy.” 

“After he leaves, I can play back the recording at a high volume so we can know if he said anything to her that we need to worry about,” Jim said. 

“I don’t think we need to worry about that right now,” Mark said. “For the moment, he seems to be just enjoying himself.” The only thing I need to worry about at the moment is that text message my computer caught you sending to Thea Cummings, he thought.

‘Creeps,’ an Erotic Horror Novel, Chapter Nine

Guy and Thea sat in ‘Free Mark’ LeSaffre’s office with a woman lawyer and a government official, while Mark was out fetching Petunia. They’d been waiting for some time. 

“She’ll be drugged,” Thea said. “That’s why this is taking so long.” 

“We’ll need proof of that,” the lawyer said. 

“That won’t be easily given,” the government man said. 

Just then, Mark returned with Petunia, who for once was fully dressed. She sat on a chair beside Mark, and they were facing the other four. She seemed at peace. 

“OK, Petunia,” Mark said. “I understand you know Thea and Guy Cummings here, is that right?” 

“Yes,” Petunia said in a clipped voice. Oh, God, she thought; I want to scream out for them to help me, but I can’t even twitch! 

“Beside them are Ms. Patricia Kay, their lawyer, and Mr. Jules Brennan, who works for the Ministry of Labour,” Mark told her. “They have some questions for you about your work here.” 

“Are you happy here?” Ms. Kay asked. 

“Yes,” Petunia said with a smile that seemed fake only to Thea. “Everything’s OK.” Everything in me wants to yell, ’NO’, but this thing they put in my brain has my mouth paralyzed, except for what they want me to say, she thought; Can’t I even get a teardrop to roll down my cheek? 

“Are you sure, Petunia?” Thea asked, looking deep into her eyes.  

“Sure, why not?” Petunia said, still smiling. “The pay is great, they provide technology to ensure no spreading of STDs, and we have full protection against abusive clients. We’re fine here. I’ve never had such job security anywhere.” My body is a traitor to my very soul…and I can’t stop it! 

“Really?” Guy said. She may have acknowledged having known me, but she looks at me as if she’s never met me, he thought; her speaking sounds kind of robot-like, too. 

“Petunia,” Thea said, “hold Ms. Kay’s hand, and Mr. Brennan’s, too.” Her whole manner seems mechanical, she thought; her voice sounds almost like a recording. 

Petunia put her hands in those of Kay and Brennan. Please, you two, Petunia thought; feel my fingers writing ‘Help me.’ 

“What’s the purpose of this, Ms. Cummings?” Mark asked. “Is Petunia going to have a seance or something with Ms. Kay and Mr. Brennan?” 

“Yes, I don’t see why this is necessary, either,” Kay said. 

“Are we supposed to be turned on by Petunia’s tickling fingers?” Brennan asked. 

“Pay careful attention to how her fingers are moving,” Thea said. “It’ll all make sense to you in a minute.” 

“All I feel is random tickling,” Kay said. 

I knew they wouldn’t admit to feeling a message, Petunia thought as she continued trying to write; They’re on Mark’s payroll. 

“I think Ms. Cummings is wasting our time,” Mark said. 

“She likes to fuck, Thea,” Guy said. “I know.”  

She scowled at him, then looked with pleading eyes at Brennan and Kay. 

“Mr. Brennan! Ms. Kay!” Thea said. “She’s writing in your hands! H-E-L-P-U-S. Don’t you feel it? Haven’t you noticed how fake her emotions are, how robot-like she’s acting? Capitol has her drugged in some way. She’d never willingly become a prostitute! I know Petunia! I’ve known her for years. This isn’t the real her!” 

“Really, Ms. Cummings?” Mark said with a sneer. 

Brennan and Kay looked at Thea with cool incredulity. 

“You two are on LeSaffre’s payroll,” Thea said, then got up. 

You’re right, Petunia thought; and I can’t say a word to confirm it. 

“Oh, come on, Thea,” Guy said. “Be reasonable. There’s no proof of what you’re saying.” 

She glared at him, then walked out of the office and slammed the door. 

“Look, I’m sorry,” Guy said, getting up. “My sister’s real emotional sometimes. She can’t accept Petunia’s life choices here.” He looked over at Petunia, who showed no concern for Thea, but just stared blankly at a wall. “I’ll go get her.” He left the room. 

Finally, a tear ran down Petunia’s cheek. 

**************** 

“Good work,” a man in the shadows of the Regulating Room said to Jim, who’d been speaking into a microphone remotely connected with a microscopic device touching Petunia’s brain, thus making her say his words. The device had been put into her in a Creep. 

“To be honest, I’m not sure if I feel comfortable making her say that,” Jim said. “She’s tried to escape twice, remember.” 

“Oh, come on!” the man said. “I knew Petunia, too…carnally. I had her in a hotel room. As Thea’s brother told her, she likes to fuck. What you had her say to them was practically the truth. Creeps do ensure no spreading of STDs, we do protect our Commodities from abusive clients, and her youth, beauty, and skill in bed will ensure her job security. Remember, we sic yellow Creeps only on undesirable Commodities—older ones, ones that don’t make us a profit anymore, and—“ 

“But this is wrong, Mr. Da—“ Jim said. 

“And we also use the yellow ones on disloyal employees.” 

‘Creeps,’ an Erotic Horror Novel, Chapter Eight

“Why do I have to go, too?” Guy asked. 

“To be an additional witness,” Thea said. “To add credibility to our case when the government official and lawyer do their investigation. Besides, you have to redeem yourself.”  

“Redeem myself?” Guy asked with a sneer. 

“Yes,” Thea said, grabbing his arm so he wouldn’t walk out of his bedroom. “I have proof that Petunia is being held there against her will. She used her finger to write a message on my arm. She did it with great effort, but she did it several times, enough times that I could tell there was a deliberate message she was giving me.” 

“What was the message?” 

“Help me—help us, I should say. She wrote the same thing, H-E-L-P-U-S, over and over again. The exact same strokes, so I know it was deliberate, not random tickling or something.” 

“Help us?” He remembered her ticking his arm with her finger. 

“Yes, and it’s obvious what she meant by that. She isn’t the only victim of human trafficking there. When I looked through the computer pictures of all the women—some men, too—all of them naked, I noticed that most of them were either black, dark-skinned East Asians, or Latinos. A few First Nations, too. Capitol is obviously luring poor people from the Third World and making them prostitutes, with the fake promise of a job opportunity, or something. But I’ll bet their poor families aren’t getting a cent sent home. I’ll bet Capitol is drugging them, too, to keep them under their control.” 

“She didn’t look high.” 

“Petunia didn’t seem high to me, either, but there’s no way she could possibly be enjoying what she’s doing over there. We’ve got to help her, and tomorrow, you’re coming with me.” 

************* 

In the cafeteria at lunchtime, Petunia again never saw Mary anywhere in the crowd of drugged, naked eaters. She sat at a table where a black woman and an Asian woman were whispering to each other. Petunia heard the name ‘Mary’ said a few times. Her heart jumped at the sound of the name, and she listened to them more carefully, straining against the drugs to focus her attention. 

“Do you buy…any of these stories…that some people escape?” the black woman asked in a thick African accent.  

“I wanna believe them,” the Asian said. “They give me hope.”  

“Maybe that’s…what they want, Arunny,” the black woman said. “They do it…so we don’t…kill ourselves…or something.” 

“Did you say…Mary…before?” Petunia asked them. 

“Do you know…what happened…to her?” Arunny asked.  

“Mary, the white girl…the redhead, right?” the black woman asked. 

“She had red hair,” Petunia said. “Yeah, Mary.” 

“Had red hair?” Arunny asked, jolting.  

“I think she was killed…last night,” Petunia said. “I hope I’m wrong…We tried to escape…When the Creeps came…and one crawled into me…as I was…losing consciousness…I saw her shaking…I think a…yellow Creep…burned her inside…to death.” 

“Don’t say that!” Arunny coughed, then covered her face so her tears wouldn’t be seen. She whispered. “Maybe you’re wrong…The drug…in the Creep…made you…see things.” 

“Maybe,” Petunia said. “I hope so.” 

“Mary was getting older,” the black woman said. “Her tits were sagging…I think they kill you…if you’re getting…unattractive…and you’re not…making as much…money for this place.” 

“Please don’t…talk like that, Kusiima,” Arunny said, fighting back tears. 

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Kusiima said. “You’re still young…and pretty…as I am…and you are,” she said to Petunia. “We should be safe.” 

*************** 

That night, Petunia lay in bed, emotionally exhausted.  

I don’t care if the door by the head of my bed opens, she thought; I’m not going out there tonight. Kusiima reassured me that I’m safe from being killed, because I’m still young and pretty, which means I’m still useful to this whorehouse; but no one asked me for sex all day today. I never thought I’d hope to service more customers than fewer. Is Guy coming back? Is Thea? 

Then, lying on her back, she followed her train of thought as it went back to her ‘work relationship’ with Ricardo Davis, the man who lured her into Capitol. Drugged and drifting off into unconsciousness, she was ruminating her way into a dream… 

Business trip to New York City with Davis…meeting Ken Maynard about some impressive new technology…something microscopic…powerful…Davis wanted in on it…to be in charge of distribution, or marketing…a lot of money to be made in it…I’d get a big raise, too… 

We met Maynard in the hotel restaurant…I wore no underwear…I’d hoped Maynard would like me…with his money, give me a better job than what Davis had given me…I was glad I’d tarted myself up for Maynard…He was handsome and charming as well as rich…Too bad he was just as bad as Davis, as I’d learn eventually… 

At dinner, Maynard dropped his fork and went under the table to get it…He saw my spread legs…my pussy…he ate me out…Davis was French-kissing me and feeling my right tit…He never seemed to notice how long Maynard was under the table…didn’t care…I came in Maynard’s mouth… 

After our naughtiness, Ken came back up with his fork…He and Davis talked about the business…about the technology…“coated in a soft, rubbery covering”…”will look like multi-coloured larvae”…like baby worms…I didn’t understand what they were talking about…I wish I had… 

“We want to expand up into Canada”…”We have contacts in Mexico and Central America, South America, the Caribbean, Africa, Eastern Europe, and Southeast Asia, even India”…”get our Commodities from there”…”shipped right to you”…”help us get more in Canada, as you have already done here, obviously”…I heard Ken say all this to Davis…I paid no mind to it…I just played footsies with Ken…”You’ll make a ton of money, Davis”… 

In our hotel room, I let Davis fuck my ass…then Ken knocked on our door to give Davis something…naked, I went over to let Ken see me…Davis took a sleeping pill…when he was asleep, I went over, still naked, to Ken’s room, next door…I let him fuck my ass, too…hoped he’d like me enough to marry me…I’m so stupid… 

I had no idea there were hidden cameras in his room…in Davis’s room, too…in the hotel hallways, where Ken had me walk about naked with him… 

And now I’m back in Canada…Ken gave me over to ‘Free Mark’…was I in an airport?…I was always drugged with Creeps…There was the airplane ride with Davis to New York City…then the flight back to Toronto…then back to New York to be with Ken…Then ‘Free Mark’ took me from Ken…Now I’m in Toronto again…because Guy and Thea were here…I don’t remember another flight back to Canada…Did Mark take me back?…he must have, in a private jet or something…I just remember that party…Davis…Ken Maynard…’Free Mark’…other men…fucking me…fucking Ken’s maid, Rosa… 

Now I’m in Ontario again…I must be… 

Rumination

[NOTE: please read the second and third paragraphs from this post before continuing. Important–don’t skip reading them!]

In many ways, we C-PTSD sufferers are our own worst enemies. I don’t mean that in a shaming way, of course, but rather in a compassionate way, and with the intention of motivating us to stop one bad habit of ours in particular: rumination.

We can be obsessive in going over our pain, again and again, with no end to the ruminating in sight. Why? What psychological purpose does it serve? What emotional need does it attempt to satisfy? It seems masochistic, for all we seem to be doing is feeling an endless replay of a tape loop of old pain.

Are we hoping to discover some new insight as to why things happened the way they did (with our abusers)? That’s how it seems to me, whenever I ruminate about the family that messed with my mind throughout my childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood…right up to my (probably) narcissistic mother’s death.

The bad thoughts never seem to go away.

Here’s the thing: after our narcissistic abusers are gone, the mental abuse continues in our victimized heads; we do it to ourselves. We become our own psychological abusers, however much we may not want to.

I have a tendency of waking up after only three or four hours of sleep (needing to use the washroom); then, when I go back to bed,…all the bad thoughts come back into my head. My inner critic reminds me of many a social failure I’ve had, hurtful things the family said to me, whether in the recent or the remote past, or worse!…imagined cruel retorts to anything I might say to assert myself. After that has started, I can generally forget about getting the other four or five hours of sleep I need. Sound familiar?

So, how do we stop all this ruminating? One obvious thing we should do is mentally to say to ourselves, “Stop it!” as soon as we realize we’re doing it again. Even more obvious, though, is that this is easier said than done.

How do we stop the ruminating?

It might help to remind ourselves of why we need to stop. Keep your list of reasons short and sweet, so your mind doesn’t wander off into more nonsense. Here are mine:

  1. Rumination doesn’t help me at all.
  2. Rumination is an addiction. Kick the habit.
  3. I already know how I feel about my abusers. Why go over it again?
  4. I already know why I feel that way about them. Why analyze it again?
  5. I call them abusers for a reason.
  6. They have the problem, not me. (See #3, 4, and 5.)
  7. My faults are no reason to gaslight me. Abuse doesn’t improve people.

Another good thing to do is to use those good inner voices I wrote about in other posts, and imagine them saying loving things to you, to bring you out of the bad thoughts.

I imagine my new, internalized good objects saying such things as the following. Father: “It was all them that did the bad. None of it was you, son.” Mother: “You’re a beautiful, wonderful human being, and we love you. We’d never treat you so hurtfully. You need to forgive yourself for your faults. We won’t judge you so harshly.”

We need to give ourselves the caring we never got from our abusers.

As you can see, we all need to practice self-compassion: 1) speaking these words of kindness to ourselves; 2) remembering how everyone experiences these feelings of failure and suffering, in one form or another; and 3) being mindful of whenever we lapse back into bashing ourselves.

For all this to help you, you have to practice it regularly. Remember that the reason you doubt your justification to go no contact, to think well of yourself, and to recognize that your abusers really wronged you (i.e., you are not being over-sensitive) is because they’ve programmed you to think that way, to control you.

We call them abusers for a reason. We also call ourselves victims for a reason. It’s high time we put the feelings of victimization behind us.

‘Creeps,’ an Erotic Horror Novel, Chapter Seven

“We’re going to rescue you, Petunia,” Thea said as she kissed her naked friend on her lips and cheeks, always rocking her back and forth. “Guy will help me, then we’ll take you home with us.” 

“Thank you,” Petunia said, surprised that she could finally speak for herself in the white room. “I knew you’d never abandon me.” 

“No, we’d never do that,” Thea said, now kissing her way down Petunia’s neck to her chest. “But first, let me show you how much I love you, the way Guy did.” She put her face between Petunia’s legs. 

She closed her eyes and sighed at the sensation of Thea’s tongue sliding up her vagina. That tongue began wiggling in a familiar way.  

Then it felt as if severed from Thea’s mouth, and still wiggling inside Petunia’s vagina, and crawling deeper and deeper inside. 

Soon, it no longer felt as if it were there, but rather somewhere inside her intestines. It grew warmer…then hotter.  

Petunia opened her eyes. Thea was no longer there. She looked down at her chest, which was glowing, as if there were a fire inside. Indeed, her insides felt hotter…and hotter… 

There was a scraping sound by her ears. She opened her mouth to scream… 

Petunia was woken by the sound of a small, window-like square door, on the wall at the head of her cot, unlocking and sliding open. This night offered another opportunity to escape. There were three other such doors, on the wall on the other side of their room, that also opened, waking three other sex slaves. Still feeling the effects of the blue Creeps put in them to drug them to sleep, they all crawled into the holes, unsure if they were still dreaming or if this was reality. 

As Petunia crawled into her escape hole, she wasn’t sure if she was seeing metal walls or transparent ones made of flesh, outside of which seemed the endless waves of an ocean at night. The other ones escaping had the same feeling. Was it dream, or was it real? 

As with the last time, there was a shifting back and forth between the sense of crawling through tunnels made of steel and of transparent intestine flesh, a moving back and forth like waves, waves seen outside the ‘flesh’, then seeming to transform into steel, then back again. 

******************** 

As they were crawling through the intestine-like tunnels, Mark and Jim were watching in the Regulating Room, where they’d watched Petunia with Thea, with video screens monitoring every other room in the building, as well as computer tracking systems for the tunnels.  

“You sure their hopes won’t be so frustrated, after so many failed attempts, that they’ll stop trying to escape?” Jim asked. 

“I’m positive,” Mark said. “The blue Creeps, apart from putting them to sleep, put them in a semi-awake, semi-dreaming state that makes each escape attempt seem new, as if it’s happening for the first time. On top of that, our fake announcements of successful escapes, like last time, when we killed Frank Bender and claimed he got out, will keep their hopes alive.” 

“I don’t even get the need to give them hope,” Jim said. 

“If they despair, it’ll affect their physical health,” Mark explained. “We’ve had Commodities who’ve actually died of hopelessness. Ever since we came up the Escape Hope Initiative, we’ve never had a death from despair.” 

“I see.” 

“Hope of escape. Hope of freedom. Hope of upward mobility. We teach that idea to people all the time, though ever so few ever rise out of the lower classes. I’m one of the few exceptions, hence everyone calls me ‘Free’ Mark.” 

“You think I’ll ever rise that high one day?” 

“It isn’t impossible, Jim. As hard as it is, never believe it’s impossible. Just work as hard as you can, and you can get there with me.” 

******************** 

Petunia kept crawling and crawling through the labyrinthine tunnels, as did the other three. It was so dark and claustrophobic: they could get around only by feel, and with the dim help of the little dot-like lights that appeared every so often in the tunnels. Her tense panting was a rhythm that went against the frantic thumping of her hands and knees on the metal floors and walls she was feeling her way through. 

Keep going, keep going, she thought, her head swimming from the effects of the drug; Am I crawling through tunnels, or am I swimming in the sea? Am I dreaming? I’m not sure. If this is real, I might die, as Frank did…I think. I might get drugged and taken back. I might escape. But if I never take these chances, I’ll only remain a sex slave, for the rest of my life. I must keep my hope alive. Was that Thea with me earlier today, or was that a dream, a wish-fulfillment? I can barely tell fantasy from reality anymore, it seems. 

The other three, two women and a man, thought the same things to motivate themselves. One of the women thought, I’ve done this before, I think—crawled through tunnels, or swam in the sea at night, to try to get out…or was it a dream I had? Am I dreaming the same thing again? I can’t tell. But if it’s real, I must try to get out. Did the other woman I tried to escape with die in here? I can’t remember. Everything feels like such a fog in my mind. Still, I must try. 

That woman reached a passageway that Petunia would come to right after her, so Petunia was then crawling right behind her. 

Soon, the two women saw a glow up ahead, along a passage that intersected with theirs. There was also the faint noise of the other two crawling along that way, with other, as yet indistinct, noises. The other two seemed to be yelping with fear. 

“What’s that ahead?” Petunia asked in a slurry voice, beginning to find the sounds familiar, but in a bad way. 

“It’s a way out, if we’re lucky,” the woman in front slurred. “Let’s hurry. I can’t stand…being here anymore.” 

Then, the squeaking noises came. 

The squeaks of what seemed like millions of Creeps crawling after all four of them, squeaking, screeching noises like those of the string section of an orchestra playing a composition by Penderecki.  

Petunia looked behind her and saw a glowing colony of Creeps coming after her and the woman in front of her. The glow was a clutter of blues and yellows. A shot of adrenaline throughout her body made her heart pound. She shrieked, then scrambled ahead. 

“Hurry!” Petunia said as loudly as she could with her weak, drugged voice, and tapping the woman’s feet. “They’re coming.” 

The woman in front looked back. “Oh, no!” Now she felt the adrenaline rush. 

As before, the adrenaline woke them up to see only metal tunnel walls now…no waves undulating outside transparent plastic walls. 

Both of them were scurrying as fast as they could, hoping to see a way outside soon, as faint as such a hope was. The glowing from the intersection ahead made the woman in front more visible to Petunia, and then she looked back again past Petunia to see the Creeps gaining on them. Petunia recognized her as one of the people she’d chatted with several days before, with Sam and Wendy, the woman who’d asked if the Creeps’ colours had any meaning. 

“What’s your name?” Petunia asked. 

“Mary,” she said. “Why?” 

“If we die here, I wanna know…who I’m dying with.” 

“And your name?” 

“Petunia.” 

“Pleased to have…my ass…in your face, instead of…my ass in…some creep’s, eating me out.” 

Speaking of Creeps eating them out… 

Petunia screamed as she felt several crawl up her right leg, tickling the sole of her foot and her calf. She squeezed her legs and her buttocks together, as tight as she could, desperate to keep those things from crawling up her vagina or rectum. 

Those Creeps were just too fast, though. 

One of them slipped up her asshole. 

Her panic made the effect of the original drug wear off faster. She was shaking all over, her head and limbs banging against the metal sides of the tunnel. She felt the Creep tickling deeper inside her rectum, flickering against her rectal, then intestinal walls. She was slipping on her own sweat, which was soaking her as if she’d been out in a heavy rain without an umbrella. 

Her panic was so intense, she didn’t even notice Mary kicking her in the head and shoulders, for she now had a Creep crawling up her vagina, making her reaction as violent and spastic as Petunia’s. 

Further off, both of them could hear the faint screams of the other two, the man with a Creep dancing its way deeper in his ass and approaching his large intestine, and the woman with a Creep twisting its way up her vagina. Their screams soon died down, though…had blue Creeps gone inside them? Petunia hoped so. Were they feeling the soporific effects of blue Creeps? Their banging against the walls of the tunnels soon stopped, and they collapsed. Petunia hoped they would survive, but she had no way of knowing. Would she recognize their faces in the cafeteria? She hadn’t seen them up close in the tunnels. 

Petunia was lucky enough to get a blue Creep. She felt herself getting drowsy, as if high on a downer. Her vision got blurry, and she barely noticed Mary looking back at her, no longer in terror, but with her face all tensed up, as if she were in agony. No longer was Mary kicking and punching the walls: now, she was just trembling—was she acquiescing to fate? 

********************** 

The next morning in the cafeteria, Petunia looked all over the place for Mary. She tried to focus as well as she could, as against the numbing effects of the green Creeps she’d been given to keep her docile and in control. Her blurry, wavy vision forced her to strain her eyes to see if Mary’s face was anywhere to be seen among the two dozen others in the cafeteria. She looked and looked. 

Maybe what I saw last night, she thought as she searched for Mary, of her dying, was just a dream. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t real. 

“Mary,” she murmured, as if drunk. “Mary, Mary…”

‘Creeps,’ an Erotic Horror Novel, Chapter Six

Thea went into Capitol and found Petunia’s picture on their computers. In five minutes, she was in a room with her naked friend. Since she rightly suspected they were being watched and listened to, Thea had to pretend she was a lesbian. 

She got on the bed with Petunia and held her close. 

“I’m sorry, Petunia, but I have to pretend,” she whispered, lightly kissing Petunia on the cheek. “Why are you here?” 

“What do you want me to do to please you?” Petunia asked in a voice that sounded so fake, Thea couldn’t believe Guy thought it was genuine. Help me, Thea, Petunia thought; please get me out of here. 

Men, Thea thought as she rocked Petunia back and forth in her arms; they have no empathy, no ability to distinguish fake emotion from real. I’m so disappointed in Guy: he only heard what he wanted to hear from Petunia. He’s no better than Dad was when he was fucking whores behind Mom’s back. 

“I want to free you from here,” Thea whispered, between kisses, in Petunia’s ear. “How did you get mixed up in all this?” 

“Do you want to lick my pussy, or shall I lick yours?” Petunia said with a fake smile when she looked into Thea’s eyes, then she thought, I must get you to understand, Thea: help me. Please, feel the message I write on your arm. 

“Are you on drugs? Is that why you’re saying that?” Thea whispered into Petunia’s ear. 

Petunia put her finger on Thea’s arm, moving it in a line. 

“You don’t seem high,” Thea whispered, noting what felt like an H written on her arm. They’re using some kind of mind control on her. They must be, she thought. Now she felt an E. 

Petunia was shaking all over, for this writing was being done with the greatest effort. She managed to keep that finger steady, though, and wrote an L on Thea’s arm. 

“H…E…L…” Thea whispered in Petunia’s ear, careful to be as inaudible as possible, for fear of any hidden microphones in the room. “Help?” 

Petunia wrote a P, then a U…then an S. 

“Help us?” Thea whispered. “Of course.” She’s not the only victim, she thought. “Of course we’ll figure out a way to free you all.” Capitol has a whole legion of sex slaves here, all mind-controlled in some way, as Petunia is, she thought; Guy and I can’t limit our mission to saving only her. We have to save them all. But how? They legalized prostitution, as long as it’s ‘consensual,’ and with the way Petunia’s acting, under some form of mind control, Capitol will be able to trick anyone we get to investigate into thinking she is consenting to all this. 

Thea held Petunia close, still rocking her back and forth as she felt that finger write H-E-L-P-U-S over and over again. 

She seems to have a little bit of bodily control, Thea thought; I wonder if we can get her to write those letters on the hand of a government official investigating this prostitution operation. 

Always worried about microphones, Thea used her finger to write W-E-W-I-L-L-H-E-L-P-Y-O-U on Petunia’s back, over and over again, to reassure her. 

“OK, I think we can stop here,” Thea said aloud after being with Petunia for about fifty minutes. 

“But you have ten more minutes,” Petunia said. Please don’t leave me, Thea, she thought; I wish you could hold me like this forever. 

She needs me, Thea thought; I’d better stay here till the end. “You’re right. I want my money’s worth,” she said for the microphones to pick up. 

The ten minutes went by, the whole time Thea holding her tight, rocking her back and forth, and writing W-E-W-I-L-L-H-E-L-P-Y-O-U on her back.  

Finally, her hour was up. 

“OK, sweetie, I have to go now,” Thea said, getting off the bed with Petunia and caressing her cheek. “I’ll be back. I promise.” She smiled at her, then walked towards the door. 

******************** 

“That’s odd,” a man watching video of the room said. “All she wanted to do was cuddle with Petunia Walker? No sex? Almost the whole time, she didn’t talk to Petunia, except near the end. She doesn’t even seem like the kind of person who’d come here. She seems too straight to want to come here.” 

“You’re right,” another man watching said. “I’ll bet she’s one of those anti-prostitution protesters checking up on our operation.” 

“What should we do, Mark?” the first man asked. 

“Same as always, Jim,” Mark said. “Remember her, and keep an eye on any woman looking like her coming back here.” 

“OK, Boss.” 

“She’ll never be able to prove anything. She’ll try, as so many others have, then fail.”

‘Creeps,’ an Erotic Horror Novel, Chapter Five

[Some sexual content.]

“Guy, can I talk to you upstairs alone for a minute, please?” Thea called down to the basement from the first floor of their house. “Sorry, Bill and John, I need to talk to him in private.” 

“OK, I guess we’ll meet you at my house later,” John said, getting up from the couch with Bill. “See you then.” 

“Yeah, sorry guys,” Guy said as his friends went up the stairs. “I’ll be up in a minute, Thea.” 

“This is important,” she said. “Don’t take your time.” 

Two minutes later, Guy and Thea were alone in the kitchen. 

“I couldn’t help overhearing what you said about Petunia LeBar,” Thea said, frowning. 

“You were eavesdropping on me again?” Guy said, frowning back at her. “Don’t I deserve privacy? Don’t I have any rights?” 

“What about her rights? What about her privacy?” 

“Look, she’s lowered herself to that lifestyle, she’s gotta take responsibility for her bad choices.” 

“How about your lowering yourself to being a whoremonger, you creep! You take some responsibility. She’s my friend; you know that! And you raped her for money!” 

“What the fuck?! I never raped anyone! She agreed to it. She was smiling the whole time.” 

“I don’t believe you, Guy. She couldn’t possibly have consented. I’ve known her for years. We shared that apartment together, when you used to visit all the time, before I moved out to support you after Dad died. Petunia would never have become a prostitute willingly. Someone’s exploiting her desperation, giving her drugs, or something, to make her smile at you.” 

“She didn’t look high.” 

“She must have been. She would never do that kind of work, even if desperate for money. She’d have considered other options.” 

“People change, Thea.” 

“Not that much in a mere year, Guy. Where is she? In Capitol? They’re controlling her, somehow. We’ve got to get her out of there.” 

“We?” Guy asked. “Why do I have to help?” 

“To redeem yourself, to her and to the world. You fancied her once, didn’t you? That’s why you visited our old apartment so many times, not so much to talk to me about stuff, but as excuses to see her, though you were too shy to go out into the garden, where she was watering her flowers, and talk to her. But you weren’t too shy to fuck her when she couldn’t say no, eh? You coward! Well, now you can help me help her. Let’s go.” 

*************** 

The following night, Petunia lay on her cot and ruminated over how she’d gotten mixed up in Capitol. Memories flashed before her mind’s eye in fragments, made all the more incoherent, and even surreal, by the drug she’d been given to make her go to sleep. Indeed, as with the night she tried to escape, the drug made it difficult for her to distinguish conscious thought from dream. 

Thea walked out the door with a suitcase in each hand…What was I going to do?…No one to replace her as a roommate…Rent too expensive…Landlord kicked me out…No way was I going to go back to Vancouver and live with my mom and dad, I hate them…Found a cheap place…lots of cockroaches, awful place, but no other affordable one…I was just a waitress, really stressed out, yelled at a customer one day…spilled coffee on another…I got fired…Didn’t know what else to do…Walked into Ricardo Davis’s office…His sign outside said they’d give me full training…I’m a high school dropout…money was running out…I took a chance on Davis’s job offer…figured my tits and ass would make him like me, was wearing a tight red dress, wore heavy makeup, I looked like a whore…got the job, later learned what a bad mistake I’d made…What he saw wasn’t the real me, but it was what he wanted…too much of what he wanted…Give him what he wants, give him what he wants…maybe he’ll pay me better…not… 

I answered a questionnaire for him…no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ answers, just had to be honest…no questions of work experience, but mostly personal questions…strange…Was I close to my family? No, didn’t want to be…How was my financial situation? Terrible, desperate…How many boyfriends had I had? More than five…questions like that, didn’t seem relevant to any kind of job…I sat across from him, uncrossed my legs and spread them a bit…He looked down, could see my white panties…I’d intended that…Give him what he wants…give him what he wants… 

On my first day, I wore a tight-fitting brown wool jumper dress…went only half-way down my upper legs…I sat across from him, let the dress ride up my legs…he could see my purple lace panties…thought about my cockroach-infested apartment…Ricardo saw me frowning…told me to come over to him…I sat on his lap, could feel his hard-on under my ass…I cried on his shoulder, rubbed by ass on his cock (Give him what he wants)…told him about my money problems…he promised to help…he paid me only enough to afford the nasty apartment I was in… 

But I was in bed with him…he fucked my pussy, fucked my ass…I sucked his cock, let him come on my face…I was his whore and his secretary…would walk about his office in my underwear, sometimes even naked, just to please him (Give him what he wants, give him what he wants)…He didn’t pay me any better, though… 

He’s fucking me in the ass…is it him, or someone else?…No, it’s someone else…I’m sucking Guy’s cock, aren’t I?…or is it someone else?…Wait, Ken Maynard’s curvy, big-titted maid, Rosa is beside me, as naked as I am…she has three men fucking her, too, just as I have…All the men are in suits, only Rosa and I are naked…she has three men’s cocks in her, in her mouth, in her pussy, in her ass…I have three men, too, fucking me in the same way…Six men in suits, with their flies open and their cocks in us…is that Ricardo fucking Rosa’s ass?…I can’t tell…she’s blowing her boss, Ken Maynard, I think…I’m so high, I don’t know if I’m awake and stoned, or dreaming…I hope I’m dreaming…I hope I wake up from this nightmare soon… 

‘Creeps,’ an Erotic Horror Novel, Chapter Four

Two hours later, Guy came home. Two of his friends had arrived and were watching TV in his basement den. 

“Hey, there you are,” one of them said. “Your sister let us in and told us you’d probably be back soon. Where were you?” 

“In Capitol,” Guy said as he hurried down the stairs to meet them on the couch. “You’ll never believe who’s hooking there.” 

“You went to the whorehouse?!” his second friend shouted. 

“Hey, not so loud, John, you idiot,” Guy said. “My sister’s upstairs.” 

Too late: Thea heard them, and she was now eavesdropping. 

“OK, so who’s working there?” John asked. 

“Remember that girl I had a crush on, the one who used to share an apartment with my sister?” Guy asked. “Petunia LeBar, or Petunia Walker, as she calls herself now. Petunia Streetwalker’s more like it. She’s a whore over there now.” 

“No way!” the first friend shouted. “Petunia’s sucking dick over in Capitol?” 

“Yeah, Bill, that, and taking it in the pussy and in the ass,” Guy said. “She served me with a smile, the dirty little whore.” 

I can’t believe it, Thea thought. I won’t believe it. 

“How was she?” Bill asked with a lewd smirk. “I mean…her body…her skills.” 

“Oh, better than I’d ever imagined,” Guy said. “Such a nice, tight little body. And can she ever suck dick! I’m actually kind of disappointed, though. I thought she was a better person than to be doing that kind of work.” 

I know she’s better than that, Thea thought. 

************** 

That night, Petunia lay on her cot, weeping, as were a number of other ‘Commodities’ (as the staff of Capitol referred to them) in the bedroom they shared. Even the mind-controlling Creep that had just been put into them to help them sleep, which was just starting to take effect, hadn’t prevented them from expressing themselves on at least some level. 

Oh, Guy, she thought as she sobbed, I’m sure you think of me as nothing better than a lowly whore, with that fake grin on my face, tricking you into believing I enjoy my ‘work’. If only you knew that you were seeing, hearing, and feeling a false me; my true self was weeping the whole time, and though you may have been disappointed with me, I was much more disappointed with you. You didn’t know that I was being forced to have sex with you, but were you being forced to have sex with me? 

************** 

The next morning at breakfast, she sat with the talkative man and the woman who’d kept shushing him again. Normally, everyone was randomly assigned seats at different tables for every meal, to prevent the development of friendships; but by fluke these three were put together again. She couldn’t eat from her bowl; she just sat and frowned. The green Creep put in all of them kept them docile, but it didn’t force her to eat. 

In fact, she even found the will to talk with the others, if in that typical, sleepy way. “Have any of you…,” she began, her tired eyes flapping, “ever had to…service a client…who is someone…you know…personally?” 

“Yeah,” the woman whispered. “There’s this one…asshole who’s always…hated me…He’s come here…regularly…to fuck me, ever since he learned…I was here…He ass-fucks me…and comes on my face…Spanks my ass…all just to…humiliate me…Bastard.” 

“A gay man…fucks and blows me…regularly,” the man said. “But not because…he knew me before…He just likes me…Still, I’m not gay, and I hate…having to…service him.” 

“A guy…I used to know…and like…just had me…in all three holes,” Petunia said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I feel so…trashy.” 

“Don’t show…too much feeling, sweetie,” the woman whispered. “I used to…cry like that…Then, when I…tried to escape…with two…other women, I saw her…dying…in front of me…They used those…killer worms…on her…They kill us sometimes…we have to be…careful…They’re watching.” 

“I can’t…hold it in…anymore,” Petunia sobbed. 

“Try to stop…feeling anything,” the woman whispered. “I’ve gone through…this bullshit…for so long, I don’t…feel anything anymore…I’ve turned off…all my emotions…That way, it doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

“I wish…I could do that,” Petunia said, now trying to stop crying. 

“So do I,” the man said. Then he whispered, “What’s your name?” 

“Petunia.” She picked up a bread roll and bit into it. 

“I’m Sam.” 

“We shouldn’t…be doing this, but I’m Wendy…They’ll hear…They don’t like…for us…to get close.” 

“What difference…does it make?” Sam asked. 

“They’ll kill us,” Wendy said. 

“I know,” Sam said. “The way things are, I’d rather die.” 

“Shut up,” Wendy whispered. “I don’t want…you to die.” 

“I’ve got to get out…of here,” Petunia said. “I’m going crazy.” 

“You’re not alone…in that feeling,” Sam said. “But it’s…so fuckin’ difficult…It’s impossible…They’d never…let us go.” 

“That Frank guy…got out,” Wendy whispered. “They announced it.” 

“I think…they were lying,” Sam said. “To give us hope.” 

“I think…they were lying, too,” Petunia said. 

“Why lie?” Wendy asked. “Why give us…false hope?” 

“To keep us…from despairing,” he said. “If we lose hope, it’ll affect…our physical health, and we won’t be…desirable…as Commodities anymore.” 

“Still, we have…to try to get out,” Petunia said. I can’t…live like this…If only…someone outside…would help us.” 

“I’ll try…to get out, or be killed,” he said. “Both options are…OK with me…I’m straight…Sucking dick…isn’t OK with me.” 

Suddenly, a voice boomed from the intercom: “Stop the chatter down there. Eat. You’re having your showers in ten minutes.” 

Again, they all kept quiet for the rest of their meal. 

If only someone outside would help us, Petunia wished again; Guy, I wanted you to help me, not to hump me. 

‘Creeps,’ an Erotic Horror Novel, Chapter Three

[WARNING: sexual content]

Guy Cummings tossed the come-stained tissues in the trash can, pulled up his pants, and zipped up his fly. He looked at the girl’s face on his computer monitor. “Petunia Walker?” he whispered. “That isn’t really Petunia LeBar, is it? Could ‘Walker’ be a phoney name?” 

In the picture, she was naked and on all fours on a bed in what looked like a hotel room, her ass pointing at the camera so Guy could see her anus and vulva in every detail. With her face also revealed from looking back at the camera, she looked exactly like the Petunia he knew about a year back, her body being even more beautiful than he’d ever imagined. And according to the ad, she was working as a prostitute for Capitol, a brothel in downtown Toronto, just a short drive from his home in Mississauga. Since consensual sex work, including brothels, had recently been legalized in Canada and the US, all Guy had to do was get on a bus and go over to Capitol to see if she really was Petunia LeBar. 

For $200, he could enjoy her for an hour, too. 

I want that to be her, for the sake of my cock, he thought; but for the sake of my heart, I don’t want that to be her. I’ll find out soon enough, anyway. 

He turned off his computer, left his room, then washed his hands in the bathroom. He checked his wallet: he had only $50 there, but his bank card was also there. Off to the ATM. 

“Where are you off to, all of a sudden?” his older sister, Thea, asked as she saw him rushing to the front door. 

“I’m just going to the ATM, then to meet with a friend,” he said as he went outside. “Bye.” 

************** 

An hour and a half later, he was walking through the front door of Capitol. A number of men were there, looking at computer screens with pictures of naked women, a few with pictures of naked men. He approached an unused computer. 

“Can I help you find anyone in particular?” an approaching staff member in a tuxedo asked him with a smile. 

“Yes,” Guy said, flipping through the pictures of young blonde women. “On one of your ads, there was a beautiful thin blonde girl who looked familiar to me. I can’t believe she’s a prostitute.” 

“Let me help you,” the man said, setting the computer menu to Young, Thin, Blonde Women. He started flipping through the pictures. “Stop me when you see her.” 

“It says her name is Petunia Walker, though she looks like a girl I once knew called Petunia LeBar,” Guy said. 

“The girls change their names here, to avoid being bothered during their free time,” he lied, still flipping through the pictures. 

“Stop!” Guy said, recognizing Petunia’s face in a frontal nude picture of her standing on a balcony. “That must be her. Guy Cummings, you sure are one lucky guy.” 

“That’s your name?” the man asked. “Guy?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, Guy, just wait a few minutes, and you’ll be reunited with her.” He left to get her ready for Guy. 

Indeed, just five minutes later, Guy was in a small, white room, with a bed in the far-right corner, and steel hooks on the two doors, for hanging clothes. He’d come through the first door; and she, completely naked, came through the second door, which was to the left of the bed from his point of view. 

“Petunia?” he asked, his eyes unable to resist the temptation to look down at her firm, little breasts, shaved pussy, and bare feet. 

“Guy?” she said in what he hadn’t noticed was a forced voice and an even more forced grin. My God, she thought; not him. Not naked before him. And I can’t even control my body to cover myself or control my words. “Long time, no see.” 

“Never seen this much of you, till today.” 

He hadn’t noticed a thin tear running down her right cheek. 

“What would you like to do with me?” she asked, in a robot-like way. I’ve got to tell him that I’m being forced into prostitution, she thought; but I can’t say anything other than what they make me say! 

“Well, since this is the life you’ve chosen for yourself, I guess we’ll fuck,” he said, unzipping his pants. 

Another tear ran down her cheek, unnoticed by him. He sat on the corner of the bed with his pants down to his ankles and his hard cock pointing up. She got on top and aimed it into her pussy, which had been lubricated by a Creep. 

As she was bouncing up and down on his cock, he was thinking, This can’t be Petunia. I never knew her to be this easy with her body. She must have gotten financially desperate to be doing this kind of work. This can’t be the real Petunia…but I guess it is. 

She, too, had thoughts racing through her brain: This is beyond humiliating! Oh, God, Guy must think I’m the lowest trash to be doing this! But how could he know that I have no control over my body or my words; the thing that slithered in my ear—it must have taken control of my brain functioning, or almost all of it, anyway. I must fight to use what little of my body I can control to tell him that this whore he sees and is touching isn’t the real me. She strained to make the finger of her right hand, which was on his arm, write a message on it. 

She’d managed to write H-E-, but he didn’t like how it tickled, so he brushed her hand away and continued fucking. She tried again, writing an H, but he decided he’d fucked her pussy long enough. 

I’d like to fuck him, she thought as she continued going up and down on him; because he’s cute, and I’ve always liked him…but not like this! Not fuck under these circumstances! 

He said, “OK, I think I want to fuck you in the ass now.” She got off of him, then got on the bed on all fours. Still hard, he got behind her. Looking at her asshole, he said, “Wow, you’re already lubed.” 

It was the worm-thing they put in my ass, she thought as he slid his cock inside. Oh, Guy, why didn’t you let me finish writing my message on your arm? I’d let you fuck me if only we weren’t here, though since you now think I’m a whore, I wish we weren’t fucking. I used to like you, though I don’t think I do anymore, knowing what you think of me. But, how could you think otherwise? 

How could she lower herself to this? he thought as he fucked her ass. I really thought she was better than this. My hard-on is loving this…but my heart is hating it. 

She looked back at him, hoping he’d see the tears of shame in her eyes, tears he still hadn’t noticed. She reached back to his right hand, which was on her right thigh, and tried to write a message with her finger on his hand again. 

She managed to write H-E-L-, but he didn’t like the tickling. “Why do you keep tickling my hand?” he said. “Stop it!” He brushed her hand off again. She looked away from him, and down at the pillow, on which several teardrops had fallen. 

After sliding in and out of her ass for about five minutes, he said, “OK, how about a blow job to finish me off? I still can’t seem to come.” He pulled out. 

“OK,” she sighed, then got off the bed and knelt on the floor. He sat on the side of the bed, with her head between his knees. She looked up into his eyes as she began kissing and licking the tip of his cock. 

He looked down into her teary eyes as she took him halfway into her mouth. He assumed her tears were from the pleasure from the sex, so much of a slut did she seem to him. 

Please, see the pain in my face, she thought as her lips continued to slide up and down his shaft. I hate it here so much. If no one will help me get out…oh, someone just kill me, quickly.

‘Creeps,’ an Erotic Horror Novel, Chapter One

The tunnel was claustrophobic, stuffy, and dark, except for occasional glowing circles of light that dotted the sides. There was a rank smell of burned corpses.  

Sometimes the walls of the tunnel felt, and even looked, like human flesh, with almost psychedelic lights, which flashed around the eyes of the naked man and woman who were crawling through, lighting their way, yet also confusing them. At other times, the walls their hands, knees, and feet thumped against felt like steel, with only a faint light far, far ahead, suggesting a way outside. The light dosage of drugs that had been put into their bodies, to put them to sleep earlier that night, made it difficult to distinguish between dream and reality. All they knew was that they had to get out of this place. 

When they’d been knocked out by the drugs, the man had been dreaming about swimming deep in the dark sea at night, seemingly able to breathe water. The woman had been dreaming about crawling through a giant intestine. Then they both heard the sound of a door sliding open, and they woke up…or had they? They crawled in, her not sure if she was still crawling through a giant intestine, or through a steel-walled tunnel, and him not sure if he was still swimming in an ocean, or crawling through a transparent plastic tunnel, surrounded by the sea. 

The dream-like state of their consciousness, what they saw, heard, and felt in their bodies and brains, seemed to shift from consciousness to unconsciousness like the waves of the ocean. Her sense that the tunnel would shift back and forth from intestine flesh walls to those of metal, and his sense of crawling in a tunnel of transparent plastic, or of swimming in the sea at night, would similarly shift back and forth, again, like the waves of the ocean. Like crests and troughs, undulating up and down: that’s how the back-and-forth shifting from the surreal to the real felt for them. They both almost felt as if they were breathing water. 

Speaking of wetness, only their soaking sweat covered their total nakedness as they shuffled through, banging their elbows and knees against the sides of the tunnel. The desperate urge to escape made Petunia LeBar and the man crawling behind her forget their fatigue, as well as the unbearable heat. 

“How much longer, do you think?” the man asked in gasps, seeing transparent plastic walls around him. 

“I think…I see a tiny…dot of light…up ahead,” she panted, now crawling faster in what seemed like a giant’s intestine. “We’re almost there.” 

“Thank God,” he said, now seeming to swim. “We’ll be free…of those bastards.” 

“The light…is getting bigger,” she said, seeing metal walls around her. “This is it.” 

They started crawling faster, in eager anticipation of their soon-to-come freedom. The shifts from intestine-to-metal-to-intestine-to-metal were speeding up for her, as were the back-and-forth shifts from transparent plastic walls to ocean water for him. 

Then, from behind, they heard the squealing sounds…like a million screeching violins in a crescendo. 

“Oh, no,” she said with shaking breaths. 

An electric shock of adrenaline neutralized the stupor they’d felt from the drugs, a reaction that came every time all escapers heard those sounds in the tunnels. Now, they recognized the steel walls of the tunnel all around them, and they saw only that. 

“Let’s hurry…before they get us…Be brave!” he said. Suddenly, though, he felt an army of short, thick worm-like things crawling up his legs. “Oh, God! They’re on me!” 

“Oh, my God! Frank! No!” 

She looked back and saw the short, glowing Creeps, wiggling in colours of blue, yellow, green, and orange, some crawling past him and towards her, others crawling all over his body, aiming for his ass and head. 

Before he could close his buttocks in time, one of those things slithered inside his anus. He screamed and jerked his whole body, banging against the walls, roof, and floor of the tunnel, as the Creep slid deep inside his rectum, then into his intestines as fast as mercury. It wiggled inside, tickling him; then other Creeps made their way inside, one in his right ear, one up his left nostril, two in his mouth, and another up his ass. 

He kept banging his head and limbs against the walls of the tunnel in all helplessness as he endured the unbearable tickling…so unbearable that he ignored the pain of his bruised and bloody toes and fingers. 

Then the first Creep settled in his intestines… 

…and the burning began. 

“Oh! Oh! It’s hot!” he groaned. 

“Frank! Frank! Oh, God, don’t die on me!” she bawled, slowing her crawling, confused over whether to go back and help him or flee the approaching Creeps. 

He moaned in pain at first, then the ball of fire he felt inside himself grew, burning holes in his internal organs. He felt the fire cut into his stomach. 

“Ah! It’s burning!” he screamed, then coughed blood, his body now shaking and writhing with as much violence as that of the burning Creep. Then his body went limp and he lost consciousness, falling on the floor of the tunnel. 

So horrified was she by his death, always sobbing and shaking, that she hadn’t noticed the Creeps crawling up her legs. 

Then she snapped out of it. 

“Oh, God!” she shrieked, trying to close her legs; but one of those things was too fast for her, and it slid inside her vagina. 

Her whole body shook. She screamed, putting two fingers inside to try to scoop it out, then two other Creeps slinked in. They got past her flickering fingers and joined the first, deep inside her now. Then one of those wigglers crept inside her anus. 

“Oh!” 

The three inside her vagina melted. She felt the ooze permeating her body within seconds, passing through the mucous membranes of her internal organs. The other one snaked up her rectum and into her intestines. As she continued shaking all over, banging against the tunnel walls as Frank had, she softly sobbed. 

Am I going to die, too? she wondered. 

That worm melted inside her, too, in about the same area of her body as the one that killed Frank, and she could feel its substance pass into her bloodstream and spread throughout her body. 

But, what was it? 

Would it burn her insides, too? If it was going to do that, she figured it would have already begun burning. It had to be something else. But what? Part of her would have preferred the burning and a quick death to her forced life of prostitution in this hell of a house. She trembled as she waited for it to take effect, for she knew these worm-like Creeps were how her enslavers kept her and all the other nude women and men here under their control. 

Soon enough, she began to feel the effect of a drug. She grew light-headed, her body swaying left to right. It almost felt like ecstasy, but it was a depressant rather than a stimulant. That ocean of dark waves she’d been seeing before her grew darker, and wavier, now. She now had no sense at all of being in a smelly, hot tunnel: it really felt as if she were breathing deep underwater like a fish swimming about at night, among a school of glowing jellyfish. 

Her eyes grew heavy, and the glowing multi-colour Creeps surrounding her grew foggier before her eyes. Her limbs and head grew even heavier, and within a minute she slumped onto the floor of the tunnel and passed out.