The Chance to make a Change

Chapter 4: Waking up

Summary: You are woken by Albert.
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"Get up," the gruff voice shook you awake only to catch sight of a hideous mask mere inches away from yours. It was still only the top half, you noticed, and you imagined not much time must have gone by since you last saw the Grabber. You faintly registered that fingers were pressing into your upper arms, though you felt numb enough that it did not quite hurt.

The light that came through the windows was giving you a headache. The room was spinning. It was the fucking drink. He'd done it again. Spiking your drink. But why? He hadn't done this to any of the boys in the movie. Not twice. Not while he already had them.

"Use the bathroom." It was an order.

A painful spark shot through your core as you rose from the bed, but the hands on your arms seemed to drag you towards a small door in the corner of the room, giving you little time to overthink what you were feeling.

"Thank you for bleeding for me sweetheart," his voice was low, but the cheerful tone to it sounded authentic. He was pleased by what he'd done. You didn't know what it was though. Your mind was too foggy to fully understand what on earth was going on.

You'd not noticed there was a little en suite bathroom. You'd thought the door to belong to a closet when you had spotted it earlier today, somewhere before you fell asleep again. Apparently it was not, and gratefully you made use of it to relief yourself. The rope that tied you to the bed allowed you movement, though not nearly enough, and would not allow for you to close the door. You would lament your lack of privacy if not for the weird spinning of your head and the awful sharp pain between your legs. What the fuck was wrong that it felt like that? But the pounding of your head won, and you pressed a hand to your face and groaned.

A low huff made you try to look up – an action that cost a maddening amount of effort - only to see him standing there in front of you, blocking the doorway, arms folded in front of his chest.

"Now, let me wipe you."

Good God no. You tried to hold up your hand to stop him but slumped forward in the attempt. It was embarrassing enough already, without him trying to wipe your ass like a child. But there was no way for you to stop him.

You could feel the rough texture of toilet paper against your netherlips and registered another grunt coming from your lips. Then you were hoisted up by your arms and, nearly tripping over the rope and your very own feet, you were brought back into the bedroom before unceremoniously being thrown back upon the bed.

A groan escaped you while you tried to roll onto your side. There was that pain again. Why did it hurt so bad between your legs?

"One more go before we say night-night?" his voice turned breathless and low. Even unobscured by the mask, it had something otherworldly about it that made you wonder if he truly had said those words, or if this was some kind of figment of imagination from your befuddled mind? Because none of it made any sense. What did he mean by 'one more go?' A go at what? Did night-night mean he was going to kill you?

You needn't ask. Rolling your head from side to side in an attempt to stay focused and present, you felt the man part your legs, which took no effort for him to do so at all. With a shock you realized for the first time since you had woken up that you were not wearing any underwear. And it seemed that the skirt and anything you had been wearing down below were gone as well. But when had that happened?

Alarmed, you tried to close your legs again, but he was stronger than you. Much stronger. All of a sudden, you felt something wet against your clit. Hot air puffed past the already sore and sensitive nub. Had he touched you there before? A hot sucking sound startled you and brought you back to the present, never mind the pull you felt with each and every suck. Was that-? Was he sucking your clit down there? A jolt of pleasure shot through your core, making your back arch ever so slightly. If only you could have moved your limbs, you thought. But any attempt to do so reminded you that your limbs felt too heavy. Your entire body felt like it was a doll's, not your own. Limp hands, limp legs, your movements sluggish and your limbs weighing you down.