Voyeur Ch. 09

Softness enveloped the top half of her face. Blinking against the material, Rachel tried to remember who she was, where she and what was happening. Warm hands deflected her attempts to touch or manipulate the blindfold.

"Rachel?" The deep voice sounded familiar and outlandish at the same time.

Rachel deeply exhaled. "Why can't I see?" she asked faintly, her voice quivered with confusion.

"It's a game we play. Relax."

Ray noticed the word made her shudder. "Who am I?" He whispered.

Rachel lazily lay back against the pillows with a shrug. She was ready to be manipulated.

People varied in their reactions. Some lost complete awareness, others maintained some resemblance of instinct. Ray could tell Rachel felt something was awry, at the same time she wasn't questioning it. Not aloud, anyway.

"Who am I?" Ray repeated in hushed tones. Perhaps a half-dose was too much.

"I... I don't know. Who are you?" Her voice sounded muted, as though her tongue thickened. A normal reaction.

"Who would you like it to be?"

Despite it all, a big dopey grin formed on Rachel's face. Ray had never seen her smile like that before.

"Ben."

Prior to that moment, Ray suspected his interest in Rachel, though initiated by an animal attraction, was fuelled by the fact she didn't want him. That's why he chased her. But the second she smiled like that; his theory went up in flames.

"I love Ben," Rachel brashly announced with a lopsided grin.

Though irritated by the disclosure, Ray couldn't resist the dreamy smile on her face. He kissed her.

Rachel smiled against his lips, and Ray retreated for a quick moment to tug his shirt off. When he pressed closer, Rachel hummed thoughtfully, her hands caressed his strong shoulders, inquisitively stroking his hard chest.

"Ben?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yes," Ray replied, careful to speak in whispers.

Then his mouth was busy, kissing her lips, cheeks, down her neck. Rachel giggled at the ardent attention, but still squirmed with a sense of discomfort.

"I don't understand," she muttered.

Ray did some quick thinking. Don't say 'relax'.

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "Don't worry about anything. Just give yourself to me."

After a resigned, wistful sigh, she did. Looping her arms about his neck, she arched, letting Ray kiss down her neck to her breasts.

"Oh," she breathed.

A warm mouth sucked onto one of her nipples then transferred to the other. The sensations sharply sparked down her torso, to right between her legs. In addition to that, her whole body weirdly tingled all over, as though she lay upon a vibrating platform.

Ray held his breath when Rachel lightly moaned and arched for more, encouraging his mouth at the same time her legs edged apart so he could lie between them. Ray felt the heat there, the pulsing of her arousal, her racing heartbeat.

Rachel was so pliable and soft; sensual putty in his hands. She made a small disappointed sound when his mouth left her breasts and moved down her body. The gusset of her panties was suddenly gone, exposing that aching part of her to cool air. Then warm lips caressed her, and she gasped.

"Ben," she moaned, slowly bucking against Ray's face. "I'm your girl. I'm yours."

"Is that good?" Ray groaned, feeling both a total joke, and ridiculously pleased.

"It's usually better," Rachel tittered.

Ouch. Ray flinched against her pussy. As far as the drug's commercial purpose went, he was getting his money's worth -- unfiltered, brutal honestly. A half-dose was clearly too much.

Still, he couldn't believe that even in a state of total obliviousness, Rachel still found a way to insult him.

With his tongue sliding intimately into her, swirling around her sweet juices, Ray concluded this was the absolute lowest point of his sex-life; the most humiliating, disrespectful thing he'd ever done to himself. The worst, most pathetic part was that he was OK with it. After enjoying a successful run with women, now he was content to pose as another man.

Lifting his head to stare up her body, Ray inserted his thumb and watched Rachel's mouth part with rapture, her breasts strained to the ceiling when his forefinger wetly circled her swollen clit. Rachel moved in rhythm with Ray's fingers, desperate for more. Though her eyes were covered with the blindfold, the sight was still so fucking hot.

Ray felt a pleasurable ache through his chest as he observed the stay-ups wickedly clutching Rachel's thighs, looking just as incredibly erotic as the first time he'd fantasised about it.

Rachel was in limbo. Suspended. Catapulting through various states of mind as though she flew through a hundred scenarios within seconds. She was in her parents' kitchen, looking for food. She stood outside her work, staring at the dull building. Toby drunkenly laughed in her face. She asked Marcus not to drive so fast. Ben was there, offering a spoon of delicious sauce for her to try. They were in bed together. She was safe. She was so happy she cried.

The blindfold helped, but even in darkness, Rachel felt like she was falling, flying, comfortably moving at the speed of light.

And she felt eager; desperate. But the man was so wrong for her. There was something important to recreate. It was a driving need.

Ray couldn't take his eyes off the big, stupid smile on Rachel's face. She had good teeth, which he could never really appreciate except for the one time she snarled at him. He wished he could take off the blindfold and see her eyes, but knew it'd be a mistake. Still, it was a shame she'd never look at him that way.

*****

The blackness blurred and tremored; shards of light cut through the dark. Rachel made out the white-painted ceiling. The ceiling was rhythmically moving.

"What..."

"Hey." Ray spoke huskily against her temple, his body tensed on top of her.

"What's happening?" she uttered, her hands gripped Ray's biceps. Her legs were...

Curled around Ray's hips. Now Rachel realised it wasn't the ceiling that was moving; she was moving with Ray's steady thrusts. She instinctively held onto him, her pussy wetly embraced his girth sliding in and out of her. Rachel wondered with a stab of dread if Ray used the vibrator on her when she passed out.

Rachel shook her head against Ray's shoulder, her eyes on the discarded blindfold between them. She'd passed out. Now she was having sex. The last thing she remembered was silk stockings in her palm. She couldn't recall what came before that. How long had she been out of it?

There was music. The sounds increased her sense of panic; a nightmare reaching full bloom. Rachel groggily comprehended she was sexually appeasing a murderer to save the man she loved, with jazz playing loudly in the background.

Of course, there were worse things in the world, but in that moment, Rachel considered this particular scenario a succinct definition of 'Hell'.

Ray caressed her breasts with one hand, still straining against her body, shuddering with delight every time he squeezed into her. Feeling her nails dig into his skin, Ray knew Rachel was reverting to a lucid state of mind. Perhaps he should have given her a normal dose. No, she was still right where he wanted her.

"Ray, what are you doing?" she whispered, weakly pushing his chest. "Please..."

"No, don't speak!" Ray ground out, determined not to let a piteous objection ruin his orgasm. After a deep thrust that made Rachel whimper, he slowly backed onto his knees, pressing her thighs back to her torso.

"I'll be quick, hon."

Ray jerked his hips, watching Rachel's full breasts echo his movements in delectable jiggles. Watching them bounce in motion with each thrust, Ray considered taking them into his mouth. But he wanted to see all of her, dressed the way he wanted while they fucked.

His gaze dropped down to Rachel's pussy, pinkly suctioning his cock with every pump. Then they locked eyes.

Rachel gaped at Ray towering above her. Completely naked, his whole body was thick with tension, every muscle flexed. There was an intense look on his face, his hazel eyes wide with unusual passion, as though he was having some kind of epiphany.

It didn't matter that Rachel looked afraid and confused. Ray was satisfied by the mere fact she was looking at him. It was a new sensation that he supposed came with being a creep. But he couldn't help the way he felt; hot, empowered, protective.

Natural endorphins flooded his brain and his chest ached with exciting hope. With fresh purpose.

He didn't need money. He didn't need to wander aimlessly through cities of strangers until a job was complete. That was why he found Rachel in the first place; he was so fucking bored.

There was always some level of satisfaction when he finished a job. Now, he didn't care if he never experienced it again.

All he needed was one person. A perfect coexistence.

Ray groaned, thrusting harder as the bizarre line of thought took him over.

Finding Rachel was a stroke of luck for both of them. No one could keep her safe like he could; he was better for her than any man. She was so gentle; too gentle for the world. He could protect her from any threat. One day she would understand they were a good match.

The drugging was wrong; he'd never do it again. He had a responsibility to her, now. He took good care of his belongings.

Ray closed his eyes, his jaw clenched as an orgasm fiercely simmered up his lower body.

Finally, at last, he found a way to twist his perspective on the circumstances and rephrase the situation to his liking.

It's the right thing to do. She should be yours. You're doing the right thing.

Ray collapsed forward, supporting himself on one arm so he didn't crush Rachel. Slowing his thrusts, Ray curled over her, moaning against her turned cheek. His cock ached and stiffened as it filled a second condom. She wouldn't remember the first.

"What did you do?" Rachel sobbed against his shoulder, lying stiff with distress under him.

Ray knew she didn't understand what happened; didn't know she actively cooperated. She wouldn't remember kissing him so passionately that the blindfold became a hindrance she eagerly removed with her own hands.

She would only remember it as a blackout. It was better that way.

"I'm sorry," Ray panted. "I won't do this again."

Still shivering from the powerful release, he kissed her neck.

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

****

Ahmed switched off the engine. "Ben, help me unload equipment."

Brian took the hint and waited in the car.

"Are you ready for this, Ben?" Ahmed asked as they stood at the rear of the vehicle.

"Yes."

Ahmed slowly reached for his duffle bag. "I need to make something clear."

"Go for it," Ben carefully accepted a small metal case and placed it on the ground.

"Once I verify Rachel's alive, we'll send Marcus in."

"I'm on board with the plan, Ahmed."

"It's imperative you follow my instructions when things get started."

"Of course," Ben retorted. As if he'd do anything to jeopardize Rachel's rescue.

Ahmed took a deep breath. "It means that if I say so, you'll hold your tongue and stay put. Even if Rachel's being abused. Is that clear?"

"Uh oh," Brain murmured, watching Ben's face in the side mirror.

Ben's jaw worked. "Right," he said unconvincingly.

"I will make myself clearer, Ben," Ahmed said smoothly. "Brian is paying me a lot of money to retrieve Rachel. Don't put me in a position where I have to take you out, to succeed."

Ahmed turned to the open hatch. "To lose control of your emotions in a situation like this would be catastrophic. The love you have for another person can be the very reason they die. If I was given the same advice at your age, I would still have two beautiful sisters."

Ben heard the bitter anger in Ahmed's voice.

"I'm sorry, Ahmed," he said simply.

Ahmed nodded and unloaded the remaining pieces.

Ben cleared his throat. "What if she's not at the house?"

"Then I'll track her. Alone."

"And if..." Ben couldn't say it.

"Then I'll help you finish him. But I'm confident Rachel is at the house, alive. I'm not an optimist; it's a gut feeling. One more thing."

Ahmed glared at Ben. "I know you'll be tempted, but you're not to bully Marcus. We need him, and he'll already be nervous."

Ben snorted, feeling like he was being lectured by a schoolteacher. "Don't expect me to shake his hand."

"Then I suggest you wait in the car while he gets ready."

"Agreed."

It had been Ahmed's idea to use Marcus. Brian didn't like it, but agreed it was the best option. If a stranger encroached on Ray's property, he would likely shoot first and ask questions later. If it was a recognisable threat, like Ben, a more severe approach would apply. Marcus was the perfect middle ground.

Brian and Ahmed were amazed by how quickly Marcus agreed to the plan for Rachel's sake. Shockingly, it turned out he was capable of loving someone even more than himself. In possibly his most parental act yet, Brian spent several hours explaining the gravity of the situation, what the plan involved, the risks, and most importantly that if it succeeded, Marcus would have no claims on Rachel whatsoever. It was a chance to help amend his disastrous error; not an opportunity to win her back.

With surprising maturity Marcus accepted the terms, and shared that he had never been part of anything that mattered, never been needed or useful, and that it would be nice not to be a burden for once. Brian felt a stab of guilt and was about to express his own regrets about his failings as a guardian, but the rarely poignant moment between them shattered when Marcus suddenly observed that Brian's suit was ridiculously slim-fit for a man shaped like a sausage.

Ahmed found Marcus kicking rocks around the meeting point. As usual, he looked broodingly petulant, but Ahmed knew it was just to mask his fear.

"You made it," he remarked, managing not to smile when Marcus jumped with fright and almost lost footing. "Let's go."

By the time they returned from the meeting point, Marcus was quite pale and visibly shaking. As recommended, Ben waited in the car.

"Last chance to back out, kid," Brian said, reaching into a small brown backpack.

Though his shirt was soaked in sweat, Marcus shook his head, determined to see it through. "What do I do?"

Brian pulled a bottle of expensive vodka from his bag and handed it over. "Just be yourself."

"He's going to question you," Ahmed warned, watching Marcus take a particularly long swig from the glittering bottle. "It won't be pleasant."

Marcus winced; clear liquid spilled down his chin as he coughed. "What do I say?"

"Tell him the truth. He's trained to ignore the first thing a prisoner says. After that, tell him anything you want, real or fake. He won't be able to get the truth out of you, because you've told him already."

Then Ahmed left them alone, and over the next half hour Brian grimly watched the vodka bottle become steadily emptier.

"Slow down, Marcus. I think you're ready. Ahmed will cover you until you're in the house, then you're on your own for a while. Don't worry -- this guy is too smart to kill you; he'll want to know how you found him and who else knows."

"Alright," Marcus said dizzily, clumsily trying to retain a hold on the bottle Brian pulled from his grip. "I think I need another drink."

"Any more, and you'll spew."

Ahmed returned, pressing buttons on a lap-top device with a supporting leather strap looped around his neck. "She's alive. Heat signal is definitely female. Soft perimeter; deactivated two at the rear of the house. The rest are active."

"But if I set one off, he'll know I'm coming," Marcus slurred.

Ahmed waved an unconcerned hand. "That's what we want. If he knows there's someone like me around, he'll go into fight mode. We don't want that." He checked the screen and pointed. "Go that way."

Brian looked slightly stricken as Marcus obediently lurched away.

"Kid?" he called.

Marcus lazily turned.

Brian hesitated. "I'm proud of you."

Something emotional flickered in the depths of Marcus' eyes, but he resumed his clumsy march toward Ray's house without reply.

Ray was busy smiling into Rachels hair, until he heard the knocking. He swiftly extracted himself from the bed, ran down the stairs three at a time and saw the silhouette against the front door.

"Fuck!" he whispered, clawing both hands through his hair. He sprinted up the stairs.

Rachel felt mildly apprehensive when Ray returned. The alarm on his face was very real, and he pressed an urgent finger to his lips and quickly led her from the room.

"Don't make a sound, trust me," he warned, fear in his eyes. "For the love of life, you have to trust me. It's not help."

Conscious something was awry; Rachel couldn't be certain exactly what it was. Of course, she didn't trust him. But what she believed she could trust, despite everything abhorrent about their 'relationship', was that he wanted to keep her safe. Still mildly disoriented from the drug, she obediently followed Ray downstairs, through the kitchen to her original prison.

"Put some clothes on," Ray said quietly. Looking anxious, he paused to say something else, but whoever was at the front door knocked again, and he quickly locked Rachel in.

Hastily dressed in bed clothes, the first thing he could lay hands on, Ray told himself to breathe, staring at the familiar shadow on his doorstep. Shaking off his nerves, he relaxed his stance and calmly opened the front door.

"What are you doing here? I don't like surprises."

"It wouldn't be a surprise if you returned calls."

"Yeah." Ray thoughtfully sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can you come back later? You caught me at a bad time."

"No time is good for you," the visitor smirked, crossing his arms. He was slightly shorter than Ray, with dyed jet-black hair and tawny green eyes. "It's been a fucking year. You're not gonna turn away your big brother, are you?"

******

"What the...? Brian, stop him!" Ahmed hissed, staring through binoculars.

Brian frantically caught up with Marcus and dragged him back.

"What is it?" Brian panted. "Did we trigger something?"

Marcus slowly fell to the ground when Brian released him, looking giddily relieved.

Ahmed shook his head and pointed to his bag without breaking his gaze. "No. Someone's at the house. Not our guy. Get a pen."

"Who is it?"

Ahmed turned slightly, narrowing his eyes at the lenses. "Take down this numberplate. I have to get closer."

*******

Logan smiled at Ray's brooding countenance. "This will teach you to return calls. When you don't answer in three months, I worry."

Ray felt rather disgruntled that Logan made it to his doorstep without triggering any alarms. But it was nothing on the huge waves of anxiety he was fighting to conceal. Logan was the only one who knew how to rattle him. He was the only one who could read Ray's moods and mannerisms.

"You know I'm busy."

"So am I. Speaking of..." Logan trailed a finger down the table between them. "Have you reconsidered joining me?"

Ray cast him a look of bored annoyance. "You know I quit group work, when I quit military."

"This is different. The dream team could use your skill."

"The 'dream team' is struggling?'"

"Sometimes we need a pretty boy's smile to woo a female guard."

"Ha ha," Ray said flatly.

Logan carefully observed his brother, noting a visual difference he couldn't quite interpret. In addition to that, an unusual tension lingered around them and he couldn't figure out the cause.

Ray disinterestedly met his eyes, then looked away.

Logan grinned. Even though he had to ambush Ray for quality time, his chest swelled with pride whenever he laid eyes on him. Under his watch, the nervous, lean teenager grew into an impressive man.