He nearly lost control again. She was so lovely, helpless, victimized, and vulnerable that he was nearly overwhelmed by lust.
He just barely managed to contain himself by carefully tearing open her shirt and cutting off the bra to reveal her magnificent tits.
Okay, okay, okay, he thought as he taped her eyes shut with two squares of the industrial sealant, he had to go now or he never would.
Leaving her was the hardest thing he ever did, but he managed it. He walked calmly through the building, the box he had left there now in his arms. He walked through the break room. He walked through the empty office hallways. He walked through the empty lobby. He walked into the studio where they were holding the try-outs. It was filled with the organizers and a line of auditioners. He noticed Claire’s mother still talking to the local cop in the corner.
He walked right up to the men and women sitting at the head table and put the box down in front of them.
“Hey guys,” he said. “Here’s your lunch order.”
“Ah,” said the boss man. “Punctual as always, Al. Thanks.”
The three started to pick out their favorite sandwiches as the deliveryman kept looking at the cop. “Hey,” he said mildly. “What’s Ted doing here?”
The boss man was already eating. “Missing girl,” he said between bites. “Or so her mom says.”
“What?” said the deliveryman. “Missing from here?”
“Supposedly one of the hopeful models-slash-actresses,” said another.
“Got her application, got her resume, got her picture, but never saw her,” said the third.
They were interrupted by the local cop, who approached the group, leaving the distraught mother behind.
“Hey Al,” the cop said to the deliveryman.
“Hey Ted. What’s up?”
“You seen this girl? Outside? Anywhere?” He handed the deliveryman an eight by ten glossy. It was a beautiful close-up photo of Claire, her huge, deep eyes looking directly into the camera, her rich, full lips slightly parted.
“Wow,” the delivery man breathed, superimposing the mouth stuffing, lip taping, and head harness in his mind’s eye … imagining her straining against the stringent hogtie even now.
“Yeah, right?” the local cop said conspiratorially. “Like a teenage sex doll come to life, only better. Those eyes, that mouth? And the body? Her mom showed me her prom picture. Hell, even I’d tap that ass in a heartbeat, so can you imagine how a teenage boy would feel?”
“What, you think she ran away?” Al asked innocently.
“Mom says she’s pure as the driven snow, but I don’t buy it, Al. A girl who looks like that…? Every guy in her class would want a piece of her.”
“Shit, you got your work cut out for you, huh?” The deliveryman handed back the picture. “Let me know if I can help.”
“Sure,” said the cop. “Do me a favor, would you? On your rounds, keep an eye out for her, okay?”
“I sure will,” he promised, resisting a leer. He looked back at the auditioners. “Need anything else, guys?”
“No, we’re good, thanks. Got to get this show on the road. We’ve been delayed long enough.”
“Gotcha,” said the deliveryman. “Sure thing.” He glanced at the line of hopefuls. Not a single one even remotely approached the beauty of the girl he had stashed in the back of the building. “Good luck.”
“Thanks Al. See you next week, okay?”
“You got it,” he assured them all. “I’ll collect the empties on the way out, all right?”
“Of course,” said the boss. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” the deliveryman said. He collected the laundry-sized reinforced flex bag, but didn’t bother with the empties. He had removed those long before. Instead he resolutely marched back through the lobby, office hallways, and break room. He stopped at the storage room door to make sure no one was in the area, and then slipped inside.
Claire was where he had left her, still hogtied, still harnessed, still comatose.
TO BE CONTINUED