My Best Friend's Girlfriend Ch. 04

I nod and smile, trying to change the topic without being able to talk.

"What's wrong?" asks Maria, giving me a disgusted look.

"She can't talk," explains Carl.

"You can't talk?" asks Maria.

I shake my head and sit down. I hate being the center of attention.

"What happened?" asks Maria. She's asking Carl, but she's still looking at me.

"She lost her voice," says Carl. "She came home from lunch without her voice. Simple as that. She's resting it as best she can."

"Oh, that's too bad," says Maria, looking disappointed. "I was hoping you would be more conversational tonight."

"She can still communicate and gesticulate wildly," says Carl with a grin. I'd throw something at him, but everything in here probably costs a thousand dollars. No wonder Maria has been staying here lately.

"Well, whatever. At least you're here," says Maria as she takes her seat.

Just then, Reyna rounds the corner into the dining room. She's immaculate. Her dress is gold, running down to the floor and pooling around her feet. I can't see her feet, but I can hear her heels clicking on the hardwood floors. The dress is sleeved, clinging all over her body, but it has a deep neckline that goes well past her breasts and to her navel. Her hair is up in an intentionally messy and elaborate bun with two small twirls hang down in front of her ears. Her neck is bare, leaving no distractions from her beautiful breasts almost ready to burst from her dress. The gold in the dress brings out the amber in her eyes and the tan of her skin. She looks like she belongs on the red carpet or in a ballroom. She's regal.

And she's my enemy.

"Hello everybody," she says, spreading her arms. "And welcome to my home. It is so good to see you both." She walks over to Carl, who is standing now. He extends his hand for a handshake, but she brushes past it and gives him a hug. He freezes, unsure what to do, as she pulls back and gives him a kiss on both cheeks. "You must be Carl. It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Reyna."

Reyna steps back from Carl, who unfreezes slowly from her embrace. "Nice to meet you," he manages eventually.

I grab my cloth napkin from the table and slowly twist it, imagining it as Reyna's neck. She turns to me and smiles.

"Ah, little Sarah. I hear you are not feeling well. It brings me great sorrow to know you will not be able to speak much tonight." Reyna approaches her chair at the head of the table, and June and three other girls all come out from around the corner. Each girl walks to a chair and pulls it back. I watch Reyna and copy her, stepping in front of the chair, sitting, and allowing the servants to push me into the table. "I am still eager to hear your answer to the question," she says to me. The last word comes out like dirty talk in the bedroom. Carl must be confused, but does Maria know about the question?

"Come, let us eat," says Reyna. The servants disappear, and Reyna sets her sights on Carl. "So, Carl, what is it you do for a living?"

"I work construction."

"Ah, a big strong man," laughs Reyna. "Bueno."

"Oh, no. That's not me. It's not a lot of lifting. I operate some of the vehicles and machinery, mostly."

"That must require a lot of skill," hums Reyna.

"It does," says Carl, smiling. "A lot of people think it's grunt work, but it's not."

"Grunt work?" asks Reyna. "What is that?"

"It means mindless work," explains Maria. She turns to Carl, "she doesn't get some of our expressions."

"Ah, like slave work," says Reyna.

I don't know where this conversation is going, and I don't like it. I start to speak, but I feel a terrible rip in the back of my throat. I break into a fit of coughing. June and another girl I've never seen before round the table. The servants, including June, enter with my tea and port for everyone else.

"You won't be having the port?" asks Reyna, confused.

I point to my throat and take a sip of the tea. It burns my lips a bit, but does wonders for my throat.

"It is a shame," sighs Reyna. "Let us toast then." She raises her glass. Maria mirrors her. Carl and I share a look of confusion, but we each lift our drink. "To new ... hmmm ... I do not know the word." She turns and looks directly at me. "To new dynamics," she says. We all raise our glasses (my mug) and take a sip. Well, Carl pretends to sip, but doesn't really drink.

"Carl, you are going to love this drink, try it," says Reyna.

"I'm not really a wine man."

"It's not wine. It's port. You're going to love it. Trust me," says Reyna enthusiastically. Reyna leans over the corner of the table towards Carl and makes eye contact. A moment passes between them, and I remember June in the bathroom stall. Oh, shit. "Go. Sip. Try." Carl looks skeptical, but takes a sip. His eyes widen, and he looks at Reyna in surprise. She nods at him, encouraging him to drink more. "See? You should trust me, Carl. I'm always right about these things. About most things. Go. Drink more." Carl takes another sip, then a long drought, and drinks almost half of his glass.

"Wow," says Carl with a sigh, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Yes. Wow," says Reyna. Reyna glances at her servants. The servants all snap at attention, and I hear some dishes clink from where Maria sits. I look at her, and she stares devotedly at Reyna, anticipating her next command. "June, the salad please. Anna, more port for our guest please." June leaves immediately, and Anna lets out something that sounds like a whimper, but she leaves as well. June returns immediately with a platter full of salads. Two servants accompany her and help place the salads in front of us. June leans over me a little too much when giving me my salad and I feel her breasts brush over my shoulder.

I look up, and Reyna is smiling at me. "Come, let's eat," she says, and we all obey.

Not long into the salad, we attempt small talk.

"There sure are a lot of women here," says Carl.

"The cook is a man," says Reyna.

"Oh, good," says Carl.

"And why is that good?" asks Reyna.

"Uh, I just meant that, it would be weird to be the only man here," says Carl.

Reyna lets out a laugh. Carl stares at me, but I shrug my shoulders. I look to Maria, who pays no attention to the conversation. She sits still, eating her salad. Carl and I look back at Reyna, who has stopped laughing but wears an amused grin on her face.

She leans towards Carl, and he starts to lean towards her over the corner of the table. Their faces never get close, but I can tell Carl is staring deeply into those wonderful amber eyes.

"Little Carl," whispers Reyna, licking her lips, "do you honestly believe you are a man?"

"What?" snaps Carl.

I know what's coming next, but like watching a car wreck, I can't look away. I have to stop this, but I don't. I hear Maria move at the other end of the table, but keep my eyes fixed on Carl and Reyna.

"Carl," I try to say, but the hurt throat means it's a hushed rasp. I try to stand, but I feel hands clamp down on me. I look up, and Maria is holding my shoulder, pressing me down into my chair. Her face is expressionless, and she stares at Carl and Reyna, hunter and prey staring into each other's eyes. I try to squirm, to test Maria's grip, but she's strong.

"You said so yourself," purrs Reyna, "you are not a big strong man."

"I'm not a big strong man?" asks Carl, but his voice is vacant.

"You don't do grunt work."

"Do grunt work," he repeats.

I try to jerk away from Maria, but she uses her other hand and shoves me down into the chair. She squeezes hard, pinching into my skin. I might be able to fight her off, but some of the servants stare at me from the hallway behind Reyna. Could I fight them all?

"Are you a slave?"

"A slave?"

"No," says Reyna. She reaches her hand out and runs it along Carl's upper arm. "You're not strong at all. You're more of a thinker, remember?"

"Yes."

"Very skilled."

"Skilled."

"And skills need to be used."

"Used."

"Directed," says Reyna, running her hand over Carl's cheek. I almost feel her hand on my cheek. My body hums, but I can't decide who I want to watch more: the slut idiot slob melting under her control or the goddess setting her trap?

"Direct me," intones Carl.

"Controlled."

"Control me," says Carl, and he's almost begging now.

Reyna stops talking and slowly turns her head to face me. She smiles. I hate her smile. I avoid looking at her perfect eyes by staring at her tits. They're wonderful. So soft I could sleep on them. I could lick them, taste them.

I jerk my head down and look at the salad. The salad is safe and boring. There is nothing dangerous about a salad.

"What do you think, little Sarah? Should he be controlled?"

"No," I hiss, but it brings tears to my eyes to talk.

"No?" says Reyna. "It's what he's good for. It's what he is. Someone ought to control this slut." The word isn't an insult in her mouth, nor is it a compliment. She says it in the same way she would talk about a salad or a chair. It is a thing to be used, but it is a thing. It is what Carl is, though he's never been slutty for me.

Just then, the fire alarm goes off. I look up, past Reyna's face, and see smoke coming down the hallway. Reyna looks down that way. When she sees smoke, she looks at Maria who lets go of me and runs into the kitchen.

I get up and go to Carl. He's still staring at Reyna, immobile. I shake him; he doesn't move. I take the port and splash it on his face. He lets out a moan and starts to lick it up all around him. Reyna lets out a giggle. I glare at her, but she shrugs and pushes back her chair. Without a word, she heads down the hallway towards the smoke.

I look back at Carl. He's still licking himself, trying to get all the port, and I see his hips and pelvis start to thrust under the table. He uses his fingers to collect as much as he can from his face and licks that. He licks his fingers clean and moans more. It's obscene and disgusting. He's acting like such a whore, worse than June. I try to grab his hands, but he keeps trying to get as much of the port as possible in his mouth.

There must be something wrong with the port.

I grab my cup of tea. I hesitate for a moment, and then pour some of the steaming tea on his chest. He lets out a roar and stands up, shaking the table and flipping back his chair as he does.

"What the hell was that?!" he yells at me.

I don't answer. I grab his hand and pull him towards the door. He hesitates at first, but when he sees the smoke, he follows.

We grab our coats from the closet, and I shove him out the front door. Our car is still in front of the house. Carl doesn't need my guidance anymore, and jogs towards the car. I start to speed up to follow, and then stop in my tracks.

Maria.

I need to get her out of here. I need to rescue her. Whatever fucked up palace of pleasure this is, I need to get Maria out of there.

I turn around and head into the house. The smoke has mostly cleared out. It must have been an oven or something smoking, not a full fire. I hear shouting coming from down the hallway, where I assume the kitchen is, and I follow the sound of the voices.

Smoke is clinging to the ceiling and seems to be coming from the stovetop. What burned here? In the kitchen, Maria is sheltering the servant named Anna in the corner, while Reyna inspects the stove.

"How could you be so stupid?" hisses Maria at June, who stands at attention near Reyna.

"I'm sorry. I didn't -" starts June, but Reyna finishes her inspection and turns around to face her servants.

"What happened?" she asks calmly.

"I was rushing, trying to get the next course. I left a cloth near the stovetop and it caught fire. It's my fault, Mistress. I'm so -"

"Go," says Reyna.

June steps back like she's been slapped. The other servant girls give out small gasps of disbelief. "What?" asks June.

"Don't bother getting your things. Get out. I'm done with you."

June breaks. Some string that was holding her up snaps, and she crumples to the floor, letting out pathetic wimpers. The servant girls step away from her like she's diseased.

Reyna looks towards Maria and says, "Make sure she leaves. Don't let her near me, no matter what." Then Reyna walks towards me. I brace myself for something, some trick of her eyes or some condescending remark, but she walks right past me. I almost feel disappointed.

The servant girls follow Reyna out of the kitchen until it's just me, Maria, and June. June is building up to a wail, and repeating "please" over and over. I expect Maria to pick her up, to comfort this poor girl like my best friend Maria would for anyone in such pain, but instead, she looms over June and glares at her with contempt.

June slowly crawls across the room and through the doorway, where Reyna went. Maria and I follow her. Each breath between gasps is a whimper or begging for Reyna to come back or take June back, but no one responds to June's pleas.

June arrives at the front door of the house and the foot of the master staircase. She looks up the staircase, and I guess that's where Reyna went.

"Don't," warns Maria.

June ignores her and starts to crawl up the staircase. Maria comes behind her and steps on June's hand with her heel as hard as she can. June lets out a shriek of pain. She looks up at Maria, confused, but Maria has nothing but hate in her eyes. "Don't," repeats Maria. "Get out of this house, and never come back."

June hesitates, but tries to take another step up the staircase. I see Maria pull back her foot, and look away before I hear the thud of Maria's foot striking June's face. I look back up and see June tumbling back and away from the staircase. I quickly glance at Maria, but her face is impassive. She looks at me, and I know I'm not leaving with her tonight. She'd do the same to me if I tried to take her, and I don't have it in me to to hurt Maria in order to rescue her. Maria turns, and goes back up the staircase, leaving me alone with June.

I rush to June's side and turn her over. There is a cut on her cheek from where Maria kicked her or from the fall. The cut is small, and nothing is bleeding too bad. I think her hand might be broken. Her face is a mess of tears and snot, and I can't get her to stop crying.

I manage to pick her up, and she collapses into me, crying. I hold her and brush her hair, cooing at her.

"She doesn't want me," she chokes out finally.

I pull back and look her in the eye skeptically.

"She left me. I failed her. She doesn't want me now." She breaks back into sobs and collapses into my arms. But she's not crying because of her beating. She's crying because she failed. She's mourning the loss of Reyna.

I can't tell if I admire her or loathe her, but either way, I can't help her. I need to get out of here. I slip out of June's grip and start to back towards the door.

"Please!" begs June. "Don't go! Don't leave me." Then, in that moment, I know how I feel. I hate her. She follows me, broken, ugly, pathetic, and begging. "Don't leave me." I hate her weakness. I hate her neediness. This is what Reyna wants to do to Maria, to me, and it's disgusting.

I turn, reaching for the front door, and when I try to pull it back, she pushes down on it as hard as she can, trapping me in the house.

"Don't leave me, please," she whines. "Take me with you. I'll serve you. I can be your pet. Please. I'll be a good pet. I'll eat you out," she grabs my crotch with her broken hand, trying to cup my pussy, but I step away. She's gone from begging to hitting on me so quickly that it would be comical. Instead, it's grotesque.

She starts to shrug out of her maid uniform and expose her cute tits. I'd love to see them, love to play with them, but not with her. Not now. She's what I'm afraid Maria will become. She's what I must stop.

Then I smell it. The musk and sweetness of a woman's wet pussy. I reach down and lift her skirt. There, obviously, her white panties are soaked through. Not soaked for me; soaked for Reyna and her humiliation.

A fire burns in my belly. This girl, this pathetic girl, is everything I hate. She's nothing. She's desperate. She's eager. She's flinging herself at me like a whore. She is a whore. This is what Reyna wants. Reyna wants Maria like this. Reyna wants me like this. I will never be this girl. Maria will never be this girl.

I step towards June and slap her as hard as I can. My hand stings and aches with the strike, and June falls to the ground.

"Slut," I say, though it kills my throat, and brush past her out of the house.