M.U.S.E. (BOOK 1) (COMPLETE)

M.U.S.E Chapter 11

"Aimee is not the name you chose for her, it was placed in your subconscious. It stands for Advanced Intellect Manipulation Embryogenesis Enhancement," Gordon said as I sat with him and John for breakfast. "Mouthful I know but it seems that in order to keep the programme running and lessen the need for kidnapping muses they used the ones they have as breeding cattle."

"Did I have any before Aimee?" I asked.

"Hard to tell, given your approximate age I would say it is likely," Gordon replied.

I felt my heart sink at the thought of not just one baby lost but the possibility of others.

"You are very fertile," he said pointing at my baby bump. "It would make sense for them to take the sperm from highly intelligent donors like John," Gordon informed me.

"Were we together before?" I asked John.

"No but I had seen you with others like myself," he replied.

"Did I sleep with those other people?" I asked half knowing the answer.

"If they requested it, yes," he answered.

"Did you choose me because you wanted a muse or because you wanted me?" I asked.

"I had to come up with a wife. I had seen you before with a colleague. We had danced and there were pictures taken. You were in them with me. The images were used to portray a loving couple in the case I was covering. I asked my colleague to track you down so I could use you for the mission. He did and I hired you," John replied.

"You programmed me to be your wife based on a picture taken during an occasion when another of your friends had already programmed me to his partner?" I asked.

"I wouldn't call him a friend but yes," John replied.

"What was my name that day and what was I programmed to believe?" I asked.

"I think it was Nancy and I don't know the programme. I think you were just his date," John answered.

My mind flicked, shadows of memories appearing as I tried to remember. I could nearly hear the name 'Nancy' called and my mind ready to answer it.

"Don't search your mind," Gordon advised.

I closed my eyes and fought off the tears as the image of myself with a middle aged gentlemen on top of me, grunting away was becoming more clear. I was lying on a white sofa in a hotel room. He was ravaging me and I was trying to remember the next thing I should do. I could feel him inside me, his hands clawing at my ribs and hips as he went deep into me and was so rough I could feel the ache between my legs as he made pelvis sore and bit all over my body leaving marks, his hands around my throat, the taste of blood in my mouth from where he had beaten me... he wanted it rough. I was programmed to resist as he liked raping women. I was programmed for rape. I was programmed to pay him little attention as his date and pay more attention to other men. Make him jealous, tease him and then refuse him.

"Cara... Cara..." John called and his hand being placed on mine snapped me out of it.

"Woody Wood Pecker," I said as tears filled my eyes. "Your friend, the one I can now remember raping me, biting me, strangling me... he has a Woody Wood Pecker tattoo."

They didn't say anything.

"Why would you want his leftovers?" I asked.

"I told you, it was because of the picture. The only one I had of me with a woman I could pass off as a partner," John replied.

"Had? Where is it and how did you get hold of it?" I asked.

"It was a corporate event. There was a photographer. The images were made available to everyone attending the event. When asked if I had a picture of my partner I couldn't provide one but I remembered the photo of you and pulled it up on the net," John replied.