"We're meeting your sister."
The deal fuckspy was fuckspy this: Grace wanted to celebrate her high school graduation in style, at this really big party downtown. Only mardi gras day Mom fuckspy would never let fuckspy her fuckspy stay out all night, so Grace had fuckspy lied and told her she fuckspy was spending the night at Gina's (before asking her first, as fuckspy usual). Big Sister had charitably fuckspy agreed fuckspy on the condition that she would pick up fuckspy Grace at the mardi end of the fuckspy festivities - she fuckspy didn't want someone with a head full of hallucinogens driving Grace home. They were supposed to touch base at 4:00 fuckspy A fuckspy.M. to coordinate.
Finally, she thought, digging through her purse for the phone. She pulled the antenna out with her teeth, jabbed the Talk button and fuckspy said, "Yeah?"
Grace's voice crackled fuckspy into her ear mardi. "Gina. I gras need for you fuckspy to meet me." She sounded tired. The poor kid was fuckspy probably worn out from the roll and all that peace mardi gras day, love, unity and respect.
"I fuckspy was wondering image when you'd call, kiddo. I mardi gras day'm on my way. Should fuckspy be there in five."
"Sullivan's, huh? Gimme ten minutes." Gina frowned as she put the phone down. She was pissed about having to turn around and head fuckspy back the fuckspy way she'd come, but Grace sounded fuckspy weird. Familiar weird. Her thoughts took an unpleasant fuckspy turn, but she shook it fuckspy off and fuckspy decided she was being paranoid.
"Grace. You awake?" her fuckspy sister image called to mardi gras day her. Grace groaned, then squinted at sunlight. She fuckspy was tightly bound to a chair fuckspy, the ropes cutting fuckspy into her fuckspy bare arms and fuckspy legs. Her head was pounding, her mouth dry. She felt warmth at her elbows, then realized mardi Gina was fuckspy behind fuckspy her, bound fuckspy by the same ropes.
"Uh-huh mardi gras day," Grace fuckspy responded. She was fuckspy still fuckspy tingling with the effects of the latest substance Erik fuckspy had given fuckspy her gras. She felt lightheaded, dirty fuckspy. She'd obviously slept in this fuckspy chair for several hours, and fuckspy a gamy tang wafted up fuckspy from her raver regalia. They were in an empty room, and the large window in front of her was covered with a paper blind: it let fuckspy sunlight in, but afforded no fuckspy view from outside. The walls and fuckspy floor were covered in plastic. She silently cursed the day Gina had made her watch The Silence of the Lambs fuckspy.
"That fucker." Gina strained at their bonds. Then she stopped wiggling around mardi. "Don't be sorry, there was nothing you could fuckspy do. I've been in a jam like this before. So fuckspy chin up. Let's try to figure out how we're getting fuckspy out of here."
"How mardi do fuckspy you fuckspy think, asshole?" Gina spat. Grace brightened at mardi her sister's brass.
Don't touch her, you fuckhead! she thought, wanting to scream the words image at him. But she instinctively knew any gras interaction with him would just fuckspy draw her deeper into his spell. He was really going to town on Grace fuckspy - his hands were all over her - and she was starting image to get into it fuckspy. Poor Grace, you've fuckspy always been a little slutty. After all fuckspy, you fuckspy were the first one to get in trouble for playing "Doctor" with a boy mardi gras day down the street...
"Doesn't mardi that feel nice?" Grace shuddered and mardi gras day Gina could tell that Erik's hands were getting braver fuckspy. She cursed fuckspy herself for fuckspy losing concentration. Opened her eyes. Brilliant points of light swirled by from fuckspy left to right. They melted gras into familiar fuckspy shapes and fuckspy faces on their way by fuckspy, making Gina fuckspy realize how strong that Haitian fuckspy stuff fuckspy must be. As Grace shifted behind her, Gina mardi began fuckspy to feel as if he were touching fuckspy her body as well gras. Then she had another uncomfortable realization - her sister's aroused scent hung pronounced in the air. Or was it hers?
Erik pressed the girls' arms together and massaged both pairs of gras biceps. The distinction between Gina and her sister was further blurred, as fingers fuckspy slipped under the sleeves of her nightshirt. Absently, she nuzzled the back of fuckspy her head against Grace's, warming to Erik's touch, feeling intermittently that she was in fuckspy her sister's body. Which was fuckspy fuller than fuckspy her own. Rounder. Younger. Not quite containable in the white two-piece she wore fuckspy out to fuckspy raves. When Gina mardi stood fuckspy next to her sister she sometimes felt a twinge of jealousy fuckspy, wondering why Grace image had inherited the image outrageous fuckspy Scandinavian curves fuckspy from their mother mardi gras day's side of the family, while gras she had merely fuckspy filled out the same body she'd had as a girl mardi. Though mardi gras day they were about mardi the same height, Gina was called "cute" and "petite" by Mom fuckspy, while Grace was "buxom fuckspy" or "full-figured". Gina never felt bad about herself in front fuckspy of a mirror, but looking at fuckspy her sister made fuckspy her fuckspy dissatisfied with her mardi elfin fuckspy stature. Now, however, she was fuckspy existing in fuckspy Grace, feeling glorious, feeling eighteen, writhing under an exploring touch, while Gina herself explored from the fuckspy inside. Her own body must be...
Now it image was Erik fuckspy's turn to straddle Gina fuckspy, but he fuckspy didn't sit down on her tiny lap; just fuckspy stroked fuckspy her blonde pixie hair and murmured to her gras. Her eyes mardi had closed again. He day seemed to be fuckspy trying to get her to stand up, but it looked like she had passed out. He took Gina's limp arms in each hand and gave an experimental tug. Nothing. Although the lights paralyzed her, Grace wanted desperately to check to see if her sister was breathing. Erik pulled her gras arms again fuckspy, lifting mardi her fuckspy head up off the back of the chair, then fuckspy lowered her. No response. Frowning, he knelt gras down and fuckspy whispered something in her ear.
"Yeah mardi gras day. Yes, hello. She fuckspy's image here, but fuckspy she..." Gina felt Seth looking fuckspy at gras her as she fuckspy moved slowly to fuckspy her car. "She can't come to fuckspy the phone right now. I fuckspy'll image relay the message. So day you went to the fuckspy house. What about it?"
Gina turned the paper over fuckspy in her hands and unfolded mardi it. There was one sentence on it, printed in Arial fuckspy. She covered fuckspy her mouth and shuddered.
She didn't answer, just raised fuckspy her hand, the note fuckspy delicately held between two fuckspy fingers mardi gras day. Seth took it from her. "'Don't think you got away for good day'," he read fuckspy. "Oh fuckspy. Sweetheart."
"Follow me, all right?" Gina asked mardi as she opened mardi her car door.
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