Breaking Boundaries

Chapter 10 - Drugged.

The world was spinning. It didn't even feel like I was walking on anything. I didn't even know I was walking. But there was this stupid smile on my face that had Klaus glancing at me every thirty seconds. His eyes told me he wanted to ask but he didn't. I was entirely depended on his shoulders as he supported me away from the clubs. Music blurred away into the night little by little.

I don't know what the drug was that was forced down my throat but the effect was full on and alcohol mixed made me feel ten times worse. My insides burned like lava that caused my eyes to glass up. My vision gave out, and I stumbled but rough, callous hands prevented me from falling all the way down. I close my eyes tight.

"Maya." His deep voice causes my womb to tingle, and my walls to contract. My pussy throbs and my thighs tighten to give out a little bit of friction. My heart races hundred miles an hour, and my senses heighten. I clung on to him for dear life, turn my face, and look at him.

"Please take me home," I whisper, my voice barely audible. He hears me, as he lifts me back up to my feet. I feel like a Jell-O. But he doesn't let me go. Instead, he bends, places one hand behind my thighs, one hand on my waist and scoops me up. I don't fight him. Instead, I lean in and nuzzle my face in the crook of his neck. It's then I realize how good he really smells. His hair, his jacket, his clothes, his skin, everything. More intoxicating than the alcohol and the drugs, I inhale him. His scent is enough to calm my nerves but the effect of both the drugs and the alcohol pushes the goodness away.

Moisture pools below and in between my thighs as his hand below my thighs tighten. I fight a moan that threatens to slip out of my lips. It's not enough. I want more. I need more! I pant. Klaus takes me directly to his car, puts me gently down on my feet, and opens the door like a gentlemen. I climb in slowly, and hold on to the buckle. My eyes start to droop.

"Maya. Stay awake for me," he says, his voice a blanket of comfort on me. I force my eyes open, look at him, and crack a smile. He shakes his head in disbelief can maneuvers around and climbs into the car. He slams the door.

"Can I know why you're in an adult club?" He asks, pulling away.

"Mr. Benton, I am an adult." He narrows his eyes at me.

"You're not twenty-one." That's why there is a thing called a fake ID, Mr. Benton. But you wouldn't understand. And I won't tell you.

"But I will be."

"How did you get in?" He asks again, his jaw clenching. I rub my temples as intense pain shoots through my body. I hold on to the door. Needles prick my skin and my body soars in heat. I bite my lip from whimpering in pain but it fails to seal in. Confusion and worry strikes him.

"Talk to me. Do I have to stop the car for you to throw up?"

The only thing that refused to come out of me is vomit and that made my stomach churn and pain tremendously. Slipping in and out of consciousness, I forced my eyes to keep open. Turning my head slowly, I look at him through my glassed eyes. My head pounded. I didn't understand why I was still conscious but I guess the drug is meant to make me feel conscious enough to see things, hear things, but feel nothing. My tongue tingled.

"Drugs...I need it...I need it out of me!" The car comes to an abrupt stop and a hand catches me before I hurt myself. I'm suddenly suffocating so I try to pry the door open but it doesn't budge.

"Maya. What drugs? Tell me who they were."

"I don't...I don't know. He forced a..d-drink down my throat. Please." Putting the car in drive, he pulls away, increasing the speed by at least fifty. Soaring through the street, he pulls up directly into my driveway. Stepping out, he opens my door. Instead of having me step out to walk on my feet, he drags me out with his arms and pick me up bridal style into my doorway. I throw my head back in pain as he retreats the key from under my mat. He knew about my key. I have no strength to ask so I don't. And miraculously, he knows exactly where he's going as he takes me to my bedroom. I hold on to him but for some reason I'm untangled from him and onto the bed.

He cups my face gently and peers into my eyes. Pulling my lower lid, he looks closer. Then he checks my pulse. I have enough consciousness to know what he's doing, but no strength to ask. He cups my face again.

"Pain level from one to ten."

"I..don't know. N-nine." He closes his eyes, and his jaw clicks.

"Do you have to throw up?"

"No," I whimper.

"Come with me." He doesn't wait for my answer. Pulling me up, he walks me to the bathroom, closes the door behind him, and faces me. I half giggle, half cry.

"Why are we here?" He studies me, then kneels, taking me with him by the toilet. My eyes widen as realization dawns on me.

"I need you to throw up before you go into a deeper state of unconsciousness." He pins my hair behind my ear.

"I..can-can't."

"Yes, you will." His hand moves to my jaw and pinches until my mouth fall open. My eyes widen. I beg him with my eyes not to force me to vomit but he ignores me. Between the alcohol and the drug, I loose hope in protesting let alone fighting him off. Before I know it he slips two fingers into my mouth and digs it deeper into my mouth until I'm left gagging. My eyes water, and bile rises over me. Forcing his fingers out of my mouth, I lean over the toilet and vomit until I'm left dry-heaving. Once more, I throw up again. Calloused hands pull my hair back for me. When I'm done, I fall backward until my back leans against his chest.

"Why?" I whimper. But I'm thankful. Very thankful. He ignores me, gets up, and starts opening my bathroom cabinets. Coming across some medicines, he retrieves it and hands two pills to me. I dry swallow it and wait for it to kick in. The midst of all this, I forget that I didn't flush away my remnants of stupidity. With heat on my cheek, I flush it down and quickly shut the commode lid. Then I remember another thing.

"What did he look like?" I look at him. His anger on his face is evident and he doesn't hide it. Why? I answer him honestly.

"I had too many drinks so I didn't get an visualization of him. But I saw multiple women drugged. And this—" I pull out what looked like a little CC bottle out of my little dress pocket and show it to him, "is what I found."

He takes it from me, studies it, and his eyes dilate. Lethal, dark, dangerous, his eyes change color and his nostrils flare. His body turns rigid and his muscles ripple. Squeezing the bottle tightly, instead of breaking it like I thought it would, he puts it into his back pocket.

"Come on." He lifts me off the floor and pulls me out of the bathroom.