The Replacements - Part Five

Music plays from above me as I stir awake, the morning sun filling the room and warming my bare skin as I writhe in my seat. Exhaustion grips me, my mind recoiling as I reach around for the blanket to cover my head with. A yelp escapes my lips as I smack my chest in my limp flailing, my arm squishing my rack of fat resting beneath the loose white singlet.

My eyes shoot open with a start, my whole body lurching up as the memory of my late night rendezvous snaps to the forefront of my mind. My legs shake as I stand on unsteady feet, the floor oddly warm beneath me as I find myself standing alone in the spartan apartment.

The white walls are bathed in orange light, a faint mist hovering beyond the window diffusing the sunrise in a deliciously lush fashion. Low-fi beats play softly from hidden speakers in the ceiling, the soothing tunes making the early morning almost pleasant.

"Holy..." I mutter, coughing as my soft and gentle voice comes out in a delicate whisper. The black silky hair hangs in my face in a messy tangle, the sight causing me to reach up with my delicate hands to pull knots from the strands and part it as I begin to move through the apartment with some sleep under my nonexistent belt.

The Replacements - Part Four

"Come on dumplin'" the man chuckles, grabbing me and practically tossing me into the back seat. "Need to get home 'fore the missus gets wise to her missin' husband" he continues, a phone buzzing in the front seat as he's sent a message.

As I land in the large vehicle he slams the door shut, walking around to the driver's seat as he talks inaudibly to the broker. She barely looks up from her phone, giving him short responses as she texts and reads from her phone.

Turning to sit my tiny frame properly in the seat, my bare pert behind rubbing against the dirty crumb-filled fabric as the cheap black panties slip between my cheeks, I feel my leg knock against something. Looking down I'm forced to hold my glasses, my hand shooting up as I feel the large frames begin to slide off my nose.

Sitting on the floor is a large set of plastic bags, each one bulging with a hodge-podge of seemingly random items. From massive tubs of baby formula to white chocolate melts and large jars of spicy pickles, the bags practically scream late night cravings run.

The Replacements - Part Three

My eyes snap wide open as I feel the bindings, the sudden surge of panic waking me up more than enough to break free from the dullness gripping my body. I immediately catch the sight of the Latina, my broker, as she stands in front of me.

For a second I feel my mind skip a beat, watching as she massages someone across from me while feeling her rub my own shoulders. A smirk spreads across her lips as she catches some hint of my confusion, her eyes darting to the right slightly from behind her rose colored glasses. Glancing over I notice a large black slender section of wood, a cheap and flimsy frame for a cheap and flimsy mirror.

My jaw drop and a squeak escaping my lips as I drink in the reflection of a petite but stacked adorable Japanese woman.

The Replacements - Part Two

As reach the outskirts of the suburbs I finally spy my destination, a now largely defunct strip of big box stores with only a scant few lights on inside the looming long buildings. As I approach, easily finding a parking space right near the building marked as number twelve.

In the darkness I squint, looking out as I spot my broker, the woman lowering her glasses as she gives me a look before sending a text.

The leggy Latina in her late twenties stands by a dimly lit doorway, her leather mini skirt clad legs crossed as she stands in a pair of painfully high stilettos. Her thick and wavy hair shimmers in the faint lighting of the parking lot, sweat causing it to cling to her skin. Fake eyelashes flutter from behind a large set of bright pink glasses as she taps out a message on her phone, her long pointed nails clicking at the screen.

Her rack is tightly bound in a moss green long-sleeve tie top, a hint of some foreign language tattooed on her collar bone just barely peeking out from behind the fabric.

The Replacements - Part One

The screeching of my alarm clock cuts through the quiet night air. I quickly turn it off however, having been relatively prepared for it to go off as I sit at the edge of my bed. Despite the hour being closer to the middle of the night that the next morning I'm wide awake, fully clothed and filled with anxious anticipation.

Hopping to my feet I try to shake out my nerves, giving my arms and legs a quick jostle inside the black hoodies and jeans I had decided to wear for the coming events. No matter how much I try though, I can shake the deep and unabiding tension that grips me from with as my mind wanders to my phone in my left pocket.

With hurried steps I begin to walk out of my apartment, keeping my head low in case I run into one of my neighbors. Thankfully, I'm able to climb down the stairs without incident with not a hint of another person being around at this hour on a Sunday night turning Monday morning.

As I slip into the garage I pause, a thought hitting me as I creep through the eerie space.