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“W-why? Why are you doing this to me? Jackie couldn’t have meant that much to you… Unless she used to play these types of games with you.” Now that I say it, I guess that could’ve been a possibility. None of them seem too concerned with what’s going on. Maybe this isn’t their first time doing this to someone.
“Why you? Whynotyou? God, you look so fucking good in those skirts you wear. The sway of your hips, that smile. Damn, you’re a walking fantasy, dollface. We’ve been looking for a way to get you like this for a while,” Jason answers with a shrug. “It just so happened thatthiswas our way to get you to ourselves.”
“You really shouldn’t leave your personal email up and unattended,” Trip adds. “It was super easy just diving into your folders and finding a file that seemed too random to be anything other than you trying to hide something.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. That’s how they found out. They’d snuck around the desk to poke around in my personal files. It took some stealth since there are usually two people up there. With a great deal of effort, I open my eyes and meet Grant’s.
“I could quit and leave,” I threaten, hating the desperation clawing up my throat.
“Will you?” he asks, curiously.
I don’t know. Can I leave the job I worked so hard to get? What would I do? I barely have any savings since I’m throwing all my extra cash toward my student debt. I could go back into real estate. It was my first love, but that’s not what I want to do forever. Being a librarian… this is my dream gig. My hesitation, though brief, is enough to bring a smug smile to Grant’s lips.
“While you mull that over—” he lets go of my hair and climbs off me to stand up. “Take a shot.”
I lay there a second longer, trying hard to find a way out of this mess. When I come up empty-handed, I rise slowly. On my feet, I glare over at Trip who winks and slides a shot glass to me. Jason finally turns around and takes one for himself. Grant takes his, and the three of them raise their glasses in the air.
“To a fun year!” Grant declares proudly.
“Here, here!” Jason says.
The three of them tap their glasses between them and throw back their shots. Bringing my own glass to my lips, I tilt it back and let it go down slowly. I allow the alcohol to burn my tongue and throat.
Trip reaches over and snatches my glass away when I put it down and pours me another one. I start to shake my head, but Jason slides it back toward me and says,
“Take it, dollie.”
Begrudgingly, I pick it up and drink it down. Trip repeats the action of taking my glass, refilling it, and passing it back. This time, I don’t hesitate to throw it back.
“There’s a good doll,” Grant murmurs. “Now, take that bag and go change. The bathroom is the first door on the right.”
Change? My eyes dart down to the white, nondescript bag with handles. What do they have in there for me? Clenching my jaw tight, I bend down, pick it up, and stiffly move in the direction of the bathroom.
“You need to be quicker than that, dollface!” Trip calls from behind me.
I don’t pick up the pace.
Stepping into the bathroom, I find it just as grand as the rest of the apartment. A floor-to-ceiling tiled shower with a rainfall shower head, a deep soaker beside it, a sleek double vanity, modern light fixtures, a urinalanda toilet? I shake my head in wonder. After placing the bag on the counter, I start to rummage through it. First, I pull out a white top… Or at least I think it’s a white top. Barely more than a scrap of cloth, the shirt is nearly see-through, cropped inappropriately short, and has a plunging V-neck. I scoff and roll my eyes. The next thing I pull out is a skirt. There’s even less fabric involved with this green and gold number. I swear as I yank out the last two items.
It’s a bright pink matching bra and pantie combo. In my size.
How thehelldid they figure out my bra size? The bra is a push up, as if I need to enhance my boobs. And the panties? They’re cheeksters but they’ll hardly cover anything.
Just the thought of wearing this sends my racing heart into overdrive. I don’t dosexyanything. It’s just not my style. I prefer comfort, which usually tends to lean toward modesty. There isn’t a chance in hell that I’ll be able to pull this off. Maybe that’s a good thing. One look at me in this and they’ll change their minds and have me change. The thought that I’ll turn them off makes me feel a tiny bit better. Or maybe it’s the alcohol loosening the tension gathering in my body.
It’s only for a second though.
A rush of panic returns as my thoughts shift. I can’t believe I’m here, in a student’s apartment, doing this. I should just turn myself in. Quit and run away… Anything else but play this stupid little game. There’s not enough alcohol in the state of Texas to make me forget or loosen up enough to find a bright point in any of this.
I press the back of my hand to my mouth to keep from sobbing outright. Squeezing my eyes shut, I count to ten to help stop the hyperventilating from coming on. When I’m done, I start to undress. The outfit they got me isn’t too different from what I’m wearing now, except it is exponentially sexier. I fold my clothes and place them in the bag, then slip on the ridiculously revealing outfit. When I’m done, I stare at my reflection.
The misery is clear on my face. That’s the first thing I notice. The second is how my boobs are literally popping out of my braandshirt. My areolas are just barely covered. Bend down the wrong way and both girls will be popping out. The shirt ends halfway down my rib cage, showing off my pudgy stomach. The skirt doesn’t manage to cover half of my ass. Another quarter of it is covered by the panties, and the rest is exposed to the world.
They’ve turned me into their very own sexy librarian.
I want to laugh. I also want to cry. Instead of doing either thing, I pull my gaze from my reflection, grab the bag, and reach for the doorknob.
The faster I go out there, the faster this can be over with.
