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In the aftermath of her encounter with the mouth-monster, Katie takes solace in the fact that this isn’t the first time she’s been subjected to gross, degrading sex. There was also that secret, shameful incident with Mr. Whately, a centenarian at the nursing home where she works. Tender May meets cruel, hoary December in the latest crêpy episode of The Monster Breeding Experiment.
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THE MONSTER SEX EXPERIMENT
By Nixie Fairfax
Copyright 2018 by Nixie Fairfax
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This work contains explicit sexual content and is intended for adults only. All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
Cell 1: Fiona Lewis
Cell 2: Katie Macintyre
Cell 3: Olivia Blucher
Cell 4: Megan Mobley
Cell 5: Maddie Pryce
Cell 6: Trisha Prentiss
Cell 7: Sarah Scott
Cell 8: Sophie Honeycutt
Cell 9: Lauren Schumacher
Cell 10: Jennifer Lau
Cell 11: Claire Eliot
Cell 12: Baylee Hutchins
Cell 13: Hannah Baker
Cell 14: Zoe Kensington
Cell 15: Sadie Honeycutt
Cell 16: Rebecca Blish
Cell 17: Abby Van Zandt
Cell 18: Liz Twotrees
Cell 19: Cat Ruiz
Cell 20: Emma Quigley
“Damn it!” Lauren spits. “Fuckers!”
She whirls away from the front of her cell and its view of the black doorway through which their mysterious black-clad captors have once again vanished without heeding her pleas to be released, and she storms to the rear of her cell, her hands in her hair, her eyes filmed with tears of frustration, of desperation.
Sarah, who had been about to deliver some words of comfort to Olivia, who looks dismayed at Katie’s ravishment—not least because it confirms that Olivia herself will be the next to be gassed and marched into the arena to fuck a monster, some of which, it turns out, are nightmarishly grotesque—instead looks at Lauren, her best friend, her faithful lieutenant. She’s never seen her like this.
“Are you…?” Sarah shakes her head in mystification. “Are you getting sicker or something? Earlier you made it sound like you weren’t that bad off. Just a cold or something. But—”
“It’s nothing!” Lauren snaps, not even deigning to glance at Sarah. She slumps down against the back wall of her cell and stares darkly at the floor. “Just—just leave me alone, okay? I’m not feeling very good. Or talkative.”
“I…” Sarah’s jaw opens, closes. She feels more at a loss than ever. She realizes she has no idea what’s going on with the girl she thought she knew best. “Yeah, okay.”
Lauren sits there breathing hard for a moment, glaring at a blank white spot on the blank white floor, then she propels herself to her feet and begins pacing anew, her long brown hair trailing behind her, her hands balled into quaking fists. She realizes everyone’s looking at her (well, except Katie, of course, who’s still sprawled on the floor of her cell with one hand moving languidly between her legs). Everyone can see her boobs and butt jouncing with every agitated stomp. But she’s in no mood to give a fuck. Every molecule in her body is screaming for a drink. The need—the scream—just keeps getting worse and worse like a tidal wave rising.
“The hell is up with her?” Megan says just loudly enough for Sarah to hear three cells down.
Sarah can only shake her head as she watches her friend pace and glower and flex her fists. Lauren’s face glistens with sweat. Her breathing is quick and ragged. If Sarah didn’t know better she’d think Lauren was on some kind of drug or something.
“Did anybody else see that flash?” Olivia interrupts. “That blue flash when that death-metal album-cover reject touched Katie’s cell wall?”
“I didn’t see anything,” Trish says.
“A flash?” Sarah asks.
“Yeah,” Olivia says. “Like a quick burst of blue light. Like electricity or some weird energy or something. It was a split second before the membrane opened up. Like the light or the energy or whatever made it open.”
“Anybody?” Sarah looks around the room. Heads shake. Shoulders shrug. Sarah looks at Fiona. “What about you? Aside from Katie you’ve been closer to those…those whoever or whatever they are—those men in black—than anyone else.”
Fiona looks at her, glances at Olivia, shakes her head.
“I ain’t seen nothin, no.” Then to Olivia: “You sure it wasn’t a reflection off that shiny membrane stuff?”
“Well, no,” Olivia concedes. “But why would it reflect blue light? There aren’t any blue lights in here.”
“Could be one of them optical illusions.”
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