After a few moments he pulled himself off of her, smirking at the mixture of blood and cum that covered his cock, her aching, brutalized pussy leaking it onto the bed. He left the room and suddenly it was quiet, only the soft sounds of Jen's sobbing to be heard.
"Jen... Jen... I'm so sorry Jen, oh god, I'm so sorry. Jen are you okay? Jen? Please. Please talk to me, please... say something." She continued sobbing, forcing out a couple of words before continuing.
"Don't... don't talk to me..."
"Jen... I'm so soooo sorry, I'm right here, I, I..." Trish's words were cut short as the door opened again and the man entered, carrying two glasses with what looked like orange juice in them. Before she even realized what was happening he grabbed her by the hair and forced the glass to her mouth, tipping it and letting it flow down her throat, forcing her to swallow it as she choked and sputtered. Then it was Jen's turn for the same treatment, who ended up coughing and gasping on the bed, despite her parched mouth welcoming the sweet liquid.
It wasn't long before they realized why, as their vision blurred and their hands began to go numb. "You... you drugged us...?"
"Don't worry. Soon you'll wake up, and this will feel like it was all just a bad dream. Except for you." He smirked at Jen. "You'll be missing something when you wake up. You've got your friend here to thank for it." And with that wicked smile again on his face he turned and walked out the door.