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In the wake of last episode’s shock ending, everyone turns to Sarah for guidance. But Sarah isn’t up to the task anymore. Her confidence has been crumbling ever since she got caught cheating on a test by Mr. Barbieri, the school’s sleazy janitor, who did what any self-respecting sleazy janitor would do: blackmail the nubile teen into becoming his reluctant plaything. The golden girl gets tarnished in the latest degrading episode of The Monster Sex 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
“What…” Zoe swallows, the click of her throat audible even in the neighboring cells. Her wide, frightened eyes shift from Katie’s empty cell to Sarah. “What happened? What was wrong with her?”
Other eyes turn to Sarah, too, expecting if not answers, then comfort, reassurance, guidance.
Sarah feels a flash of resentment, quick as a snakebite in her heart. Their dumbly gawping faces. Their fear. What about hers? Who can she turn to? Their need is just one more burden added to the heap already crushing her. They’re wrong to look to her for hope and direction. She’s not who they think she is. Not anymore. She hasn’t been for a long time. If the others knew the truth, they’d be repelled and horrified. They’d turn from her in disgust.
But habit and conscience prevail, and once again Sarah gulps back her own fear and shame and self-doubt and fixes her bravest face in place. Behind it she feels like screaming, crying. But she won’t. She can’t. The others need her. Which shows just how precarious their position really is.
“I don’t know,” she tells Zoe, striving to sound calm and collected. Or at least as calm and collected as a naked, helpless teenage girl trapped in a bizarre alien sex prison can possibly be. “Did either of you guys see or hear anything that might explain what happened?” she asks Fiona and Olivia. “I mean, did Katie say or do anything? Or did those men in black—well, and the man in white, too, I guess—did they give any kind of indication of what it was all about?”
Fiona scoffs. “Yeah, they were giving little Shakespeare speeches about everything that was happening.”
“She might have been experiencing some kind of severe toxic reaction to the monster that she, um, had intercourse with,” Emma says.
“‘Toxic reaction’?” Megan says, her voice strident. “She was fucking melting!”
“Perhaps the creature’s semen—or the equivalent substance—is inimical to terrestrial life-forms. Perhaps it was inducing some sort of cascading deterioration of her biological matrix.”
“Is she even talking English anymore?” Baylee says.
“What if that’s how the monster reproduces?” Rebecca says. “I mean, maybe it sort of converts those it comes into contact with into things like itself. The way zombies do.”
“She wasn’t covered in giant drooling mouths, though,” says Cat.
“Not yet. We might have witnessed just the first stage of the process.”
“Interesting idea,” Emma says.
“Fiona and Olivia seem fine,” Sadie observes. “They’re not turning all oozy and weird. And Fiona got boinked a full day before Katie did.”
“Yeah, but they had very different monsters,” Cat says. “More normal ones.” She shrugs. “Normal being a relative term, of course.”
Emma nods. “It’s probably no accident that the creatures Fiona and Olivia were paired with showed obvious morphological similarities to terrestrial organisms. In Fiona’s case large hominids. In Olivia’s humans and snakes. Katie’s monster, however, was far more alien and its effects concomitantly more extreme.”
“Great,” Abby says. “A different monster every time, each with a different potential effect. It’s like Russian Roulette.”
“That snaky thing was terrestrial in other ways, too,” Cat says. “I mean, it resembled creatures called Nagas from Indian mythology.” She glanced at Liz. “I mean, subcontinental Indians, not—”
“I know what you mean,” Liz says.
“That thing wasn’t a fucking myth, whatever it was,” Olivia says. “It was very fucking real.”
“I know, I know,” Cat says. “I’m just pointing out the similarity, that’s all. It might mean something.”
“Our captors look pretty terrestrial, too,” Abby says. “They look just like people, only dressed in creepy black outfits.”
“And now one white outfit.”
“Yeah, what was with that?”
“The white probably indicates it was like a doctor or a nurse or something,” Sarah said. “White’s traditionally a medical color.”
“Doesn’t that prove they’re not aliens, then?” Megan says. “I mean, aliens wouldn’t use the same color symbolism we do. Would they?”
“It could just be a coincidence.”
“It’s interesting how quickly they showed up after Katie’s transformation started,” Emma says. “Suggests they knew right away. Suggests we’re being watched somehow. Monitored.” She can’t help glancing at the white walls as she says this. Others do too, suddenly more uneasy than ever.
“The walls have eyes,” Cat says. “In fact, I bet—”
Pink gas begins pouring into Katie’s empty cell. Within moments the entire cell’s full of it. Through the roiling fumes, the girls in the neighboring cells can see the puddles of muck on the floor bubbling and hissing and dissolving.
“That’s the cleaning gas,” Sarah says. “That’s the stuff they use at night.”
“What does that mean, though?” Olivia asks.
“It just means they’re cleaning up, I guess.”
“It makes me think of the bioremediation guys my dad calls in to clean up crime scenes,” Maddie says.
Olivia’s eyes go wide with alarm. “Oh, fuck! That probably means she is dead, then!”
“No, it doesn’t,” Trish says. “It just means they’re cleaning up the mess.”
“Yeah,” Maddie agrees. “Crime scenes aren’t limited to homicides. Besides, I was just saying it reminded me of that. It doesn’t mean anything. Chill.”
“Yeah, well, she sure didn’t look all that healthy to me when they were lugging her out of here in that big canister,” Fiona says.
“That doesn’t mean she’s dead,” Lauren snaps, her vehemence surprising considering her pasty face and the dark circles under her eyes and the fact that she has barely glanced up all day from where she sits at her cell’s back wall. “Maybe you’re ready to give up on her, but I’m not. She helped me out when I needed it.”
“How are you today anyway?” Sarah asks, her voice just low enough for her friend to hear her. “You’re looking…better.”
“The fuck I am,” Lauren mutters, then rests her forehead on her crossed forearms again.
Jen clears her throat.
“Actually, guys, whatever happened to Katie—it might have actually done some good in a weird kind of way.”
“What?” Sarah says. “What do you mean?”
“Those first two men in black and the man in white—they came rushing in here so fast that they didn’t wait until the outer black door had fully closed. I caught a quick glimpse of what was beyond it.”
Suddenly Jen has everyone’s full attention. Even Lauren rises and crosses to the front of her cell to listen as Jen describes the white corridor and the second black membranous doorway on its far side, a membrane identical to the ones leading into the girls’ cellblock.
“I’ll bet that’s where the guys are being kept!” Maddie exclaims, her face alight with excitement. She looks almost ready to weep with relief. “We need to find some way to get over there!”
Excitement runs through the ring of cells. A dozen voices babble at once.
“Okay, okay,” Sarah says. “Let’s think this through. Clearly this is some kind of a larger complex.”
“Well, duh,” Megan says.
Sarah frowns at her. “It’s good to have confirmation, at least.”
“Yeah, but so what?” Olivia says. “We’re still fucking stuck in these cells. What difference does it make if there’s another cell block or a portal to Earth or a fucking amusement park over there if we can’t get out of here?”
“Who says we can’t? There has to be some way out of here. Something we haven’t thought of yet.” She ponders for a moment, then shakes a finger excitedly. “Maybe that medic-like guy is the key. I mean, we know he’ll come if something bad happens to one of us, so what if one of us, like, fakes sickness or something and tries to get him in here?”
Lauren scoffs. “What, sort of like how I was sick? Nobody fucking came to let me out.”
“I mean something graver. Like—like passing out or—”
“Wow, it’s great that you’re talking about this out loud,” Megan says, rolling her eyes and spitting out a small, bitter laugh, “seeing as how our captors are probably listening to every fucking word we’re saying.”
Sarah’s faces flushes. She suppresses her kneejerk urge to bitch back at the bitch and instead calmly says, “How else are we supposed to make plans? Sign language?”
“I’m just saying.”
“Actually,” Cat says, “we don’t know for sure that these entities even speak English. Or any language we’re familiar with.”
“It won’t work anyway,” Emma says. “Even if we could lure the presumed medic in here, by the time it reached and entered any of the cells, the entry membrane would have long since closed.”
“But maybe we could take him hostage,” Sarah says. “Force him to let us out, or—”
“It wouldn’t be just him, though,” Trish says. “He’d probably have two of those guys in black with him like last time.”
“I don’t know,” Sarah says a little defensively. “Maybe, uh, maybe if we do it so that the girl fakes a seizure when she’s taken out of her cell to be, you know, mated with the monster, she could—”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Megan says. “The girl would be under the effect of the gas. I doubt she’s going to be in any mood to implement any great escapes.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry. I’m just—there’s a lot to process here, okay?” Sarah’s feeling flustered now. She’s feeling the pressure of those eighteen sets of hopeful eyes upon her, those eighteen needy souls demanding things of her that she’s increasingly doubtful she can give them. But she has to try. For them. For herself. If she doesn’t, who else will? “I guess what we need is some way to counteract the gas, at least temporarily.”
“And then what?” Cat asks. “I mean, so one of us is suddenly fully cognizant in an arena with a giant horny monster and four creepy faceless men in black with electro-touches. Frankly with those odds, I think I’d rather stay horny.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to come up with ideas. If anyone else has any they’re welcome to throw them out there, too.”
“Especially if they’re good ones for a change,” Megan says.
Sarah gawps at her fellow cheerleader, her cheeks burning as if she’s been slapped. Once again she swallows back the burst of bile she instinctively wants to unleash (though it proves ten times harder than before). Then she takes a deep breath and says, in a voice that quavers a little despite her efforts to steady it, “Look, Megan, I understand you must be pretty scared right now because your turn is coming up next, but don’t—”
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