Taken. Part III.
The sun had gone down when Ceri found the street. She had to cruise around the block looking for a space to park her little blue rental. A rent-a-wreck, to be strictly accurate, it could only have had about a million miles on the clock. She’d drawn a line at accepting any financial assistance from McCandliss, in fact getting out of the redhead’s presence had come as a positive relief. She’d spent the night in a hostel dreaming fitfully of Rebecca telling her to bend over the bar table. Some part of her still found that thought shamefully exciting.
She found a spot on the second go around, sliding the car back in between a delivery lorry and a green SUV. She smiled, taking a moment to congratulate herself on her ninja parking skills.
Hopping out, she pulled her hoodie up against the light rain as she hurried across the street. Small lights, high on the walls, lit a side alley running beside a small boutique called “Lily’s House of Socks.” A short concrete ramp led up to what looked like it could be a delivery door to the shop, except a security camera hovered overhead and a numbered punch pad and a voice com had been set into the wall to the left of the black door.
Ceri punched the number she’d been told, the voice com hissed.
“Who is this?”
Ceri leaned down to the com, pressing the button marked “talk.”
“My name is Ceridwen Jones, I’m on Mike’s guest list.”
She looked up at the security camera, a little red light blinking on its right side. On impulse, she pulled her hood down.
The voice com hissed, “Come inside.” An electronic hum came from the door, Ceri pulled it open.
She stood in a small lobby, shiny black tiles on the floor, grey furry walls (soundproofed?, wondered Ceri), another black door on the far side and a reception window doubling as a coat check on her right. A light musky fragrance scented the air.
The coat check girl wore a leather bondage corset, cinched frighteningly tight to create a curved silhouette that until now Ceri thought only existed with use of photoshop. The designer of the corset had saved on the cups, instead the girl’s perfectly round, milky white breasts thrust upwards in pagan offering to Ceri’s libido. Both nipples had a pin through them.
“Do you have a coat, ma’am?” The girl had a low husky voice that carried a hint of mischief. Her spine arched a little, giving Ceri maximum benefit of the view.
“Uh,” said Ceri, she felt her cheeks burning and she tore her eyes upwards. The girl had a punky pink haircut and a nose ring, pretty blue eyes. “No. I’ve just got my hoodie.”
A heady mix of pride, vanity and arousal kicked in, she reached down, pulling her hoodie off over her head, giving the coat check girl maximum benefit of Ceri’s arms and shoulders in a crisp black muscle tee.
A pink tongue slipped out, promising a silver stud, then slid back inside the girl’s mouth.
“Thank you, I’ll be glad to take care of that, ma’am. The club is through the door over there. Mike left a note saying to tell you that she’s at the bar.”
The girl’s fingers brushed Ceri’s as she took the hoodie, starting a delicious tingling between Ceri’s thighs. She left a healthy tip.
The club itself had low red table lights, intimate little groups sitting semi-shadowed in chairs scattered across a round central dining area, sunk in the floor. Hushed whispering rustled upwards, broken by the occasional soft laugh. A breathy voice singing in French hovered in the air, piped through hidden speakers in the walls. A scent in the air carried the suggestion of sex. Veiled alcoves circled the room. Dim shadows moved behind the veils, some of them bending and twisting together. The sound of a smack made Ceri start, making her turn to the alcove nearest on her left. A low moan slipped out of the slight gap in the veils. She thought she saw a flash of pink flesh quivering. A cold blue eye suddenly blocked her view through the gap, blonde hair framing it. Lips twisted in a smirk, “You want to be spanked, slut?”
Ceri’s tongue froze, “Um . . . .” She started for the bar on the other side of the room.
“You’ll be back, slut. Your kind always are.”
Ceri ignored the heat licking her pussy. The small bar had the same low red lights as the tables, but set over a big mirror and an impressive array of cocktail bottles. Mike fit the description she’d been given, a giant woman in a black suit and tie. Severe buzzcut, much tighter than Ceri’s cropped look. She had a couple of inches on Ceri for height and width. A cute blonde bartender with a pixie cut and a shiny black dress that she’d been poured into fluttered in attendance.
“Hiya, ya must be Ceri!” Mike had a broad, open grin. She extended an enormous hand to Ceri.
Ceri shook it, “Yes, thanks for seeing me at such short notice. I really need help with my friend.”
“Ya, mmhmm, we get a lot of girls need help for their friend. Our specialty.” Ceri frowned, but before she could speak, Mike gestured at the bartender. “This is my girl, Tina.”
“Hey, Ceri. Oh . . . grreaaaat arms! You must work out.” Tina winked.
Ceri sensed, more than saw, the narrowing in Mike’s eyes. She willed into her voice her utter disinterest in all things sexual with hot little blonde bartenders in tight, shiny dresses. “Thanks, pleased to meet you, Tina.” No interest here at all in sexy pixies. “You look great too.”
“Let me fix you a cocktail,” Tina twirled to the bottles revealing a black criss-cross of straps that ran down an exposed strip of skin, holding the dress together across her naked back. The criss-cross kept on going downwards . . . Tina didn’t have panties on, but she did have a very lovely ass.
“No,” squeaked Ceri. “That’s fine.”
“Just a sparking water then,” said Tina. She bent over to reach for a bottle from the bar fridge. Ceri tore her eyes up and away.
Mike had no expression, “I think ya should come and meet Lin now.”
“Yes, let’s,” said Ceri. Tina pushed a glass of sparkling water into her hand, adding a slice of lemon.
“Be sure to let me know if you want something,” said Tina. Mike sniffed. Loudly. Tina patted Mike’s arm. “Oh, hush. . . . I hope to see a lot more of you, Ceri.”
“Uh, thanks, Tina,” said Ceri. Tina’s lips curled, she gave Ceri a little nod.
“Hmmph. Follow me,” said Mike.
Ceri looked for a place to off-load her drink, but couldn’t find one before Mike stopped outside one of the veiled alcoves.
“This is the one,” said Mike. She leaned down, her forehead stopping an inch away from Ceri’s. Her voice hushed, “Just so ya know, Lin isn’t on her own, she brought her pet. And by pet I mean her girl. If ya know what’s good for ya, ya might not want ta be making eyes at Lin’s girl.” She sniffed. “Some people don’t like that kinda behavior.” Mike brushed past back towards the bar.
“But . . . ,” said Ceri. “I didn’t . . . .” She watched Mike’s enormous dark silhouette disappearing, Tina giving a little cutsey wave as Mike re-approached the bar.
Ceri sucked in a breath, “Okay. Right.” She contemplated the veils. Does one knock on veils? She took a step forward, “Uh, hello? This is Ceri, I’m here to meet Madame Lin.”
She thought she heard a rustling on the other side of the veils.
Four perfectly red fingernails appeared, holding the left side of the veils outward to form a gap that kept the interior of the alcove obscured. Ceri took it as an invitation. She slipped around to go through the gap and nearly dropped her glass of water.
The woman holding the veils wore a red shiny hood, clinging tight to her entire head and secured by a spiked collar round her neck. A long mane of blonde hair spilled from a hole in the top. She had big, blissfully vacant blue eyes staring out of the eye holes in the mask, full red lips also visible through a circular mouth opening. Otherwise her features were obscured. At least the features above the neck. Below the neck, the features were absolutely spectacular and very much on view. Bush neatly trimmed into a “V.” As a gesture to modesty, the woman still had red knee boots on, laced with butterfly knots.
“I hope you’re not ogling my pet, Ceri?”
“No!” Ceri twisted, cheeks burning, still halfway through the gap. She couldn’t see the voice. It had a delicious smokey sound.
“Don’t be shy. Four won’t mind if you brush up against her. She might even write a story about it.”
Ceri took care that no brushing occurred as she slid past “Four.” She noticed dark Chinese sigils tattooed on the woman’s left hip. She turned. The alcove had soft blue lights set high in the curved walls, plush leather seats running around in a complete semi-circle. A low circular leather table occupied the center of the space. It looked . . . sturdy, like somebody or several somebodies could roll around on top of it.
The controller sat on the right side of the alcove, opposite Ceri. She had long raven braids that coiled around her shoulders over a white silk shirt, dark leather pants, olive skin. Her arms trailed out along the back of the seats.
Beautiful Asian eyes. Deep, almost perfectly black pools, daring watchers to stare too long into them.
Somewhere in the club, somebody sucked in a breath and held it.
“So,” said the controller. “Why don’t you take a seat, Ceri.”
Ceri exhaled. “Yes, thanks,” she sat on the leather, it creaked softly. She found a little ledge behind the back of the seat where she could put her drink. She ran her right hand through her hair, chasing some non-existent loose strands. Looked into those whirlpool eyes, “Thanks so much for meeting me at short notice. My friend is in trouble, you see and . . . .”
“Do you have a mind control fetish?” said the controller. The gap in the white shirt hinted at a gorgeous olive-skinned valley between her breasts. Her eyes didn’t seem to blink, they seemed like they had a centripetal force on everything else in the room.
“I . . . . Yes. I do,” said Ceri. Her pussy prickled with heat. She could feel sweat starting to bead on her back. Those eyes.
“But that’s not why I’m here, it’s my friend Wendy, a woman has put some kind of spell on her or something. Rebecca McCandliss wouldn’t explain it to me, but the woman is called Mallory, she makes sculptures.”
Those eyes blinked for a second.
“And McCandliss said Wendy is in a lot of. . . . .”
The controller held up a long elegant finger, cutting Ceri off mid-flow. She reached down and gathered up the strands of her pet’s mane. Ceri realized that the woman had slipped to kneel by the controller’s feet without Ceri even noticing. Her pussy dripped, she tried not to squirm her thighs together.
The pet looked up into the controller’s eyes with single-minded devotion.
“What are we going to do with Ceri? Mmm, beloved? Rebecca McCandliss sends her to meet us and now she tells us her friend is in trouble.” The controller stroked the left side of her pet’s mask.
Yanked her pet’s blonde hair.
The pet gasped, eyes shutting, hands flying to squeeze her big, soft breasts, bullet-hard pink nipples twisting between fingertips. Her Mistress slackened her grip, but kept toying with the mane of hair with her left hand, giving occasional sharp little tugs that made the slave moan as she played with her nipples.
The controller looked up, the force of those black eyes sucking Ceri in again.
“My name is Lin. Professionally, Madame Lin, but you will call me Mistress. Perhaps with time you will choose to call me Goddess Beautiful Jade. That’s not something I insist on though—that would be vain. Now, Ceri, I’d very much like to see you naked.”
“Ah-ehehe. Uh. But we only just met!” Ceri grinned manically, “Eheh.” Her hands started to pull up her tee, but she forced them back down.
“Yes, and your referral came from a member of the law enforcement community,” said Lin. She let go of her pet’s hair and sat back, arms stretched out on the back of the chair again. She crossed her legs. As if given a signal her pet sat up, big, blue eyes suddenly hard on Ceri.
“Um, but I don’t see why . . . ,” said Ceri.
“Are you wearing a wire? My business is quite legitimate, and I’ve made it plain to you right here, but I know the likes of McCandliss dearly believe otherwise.” Lin’s eyes filled with shadow. “Strip for me. Now.”
Ceri stood. She pulled her tee over her head, undid her belt and lowered her jeans. She paused for a moment over her sportsbra and panties, but removed them as well.
Ceri turned in a circle. She held her hands out.
“Good. I apologize, Ceri, but in this business one get’s a little paranoid. Please sit down.”
Ceri sat, she bit her lip, “I really am here to get help for my friend.”
Lin’s lips twitched, “Oh, come on, Ceri. Enough of the games, we both know why you’re here.”
“I don’t understand. My friend Wendy . . . .”
“There is no Wendy, Ceri, she’s a fantasy in your head.”
“What!? No! I . . . .” Ceri stared at Lin’s black eyes, they seemed impossibly big. The world didn’t seem to be quite following the normal rules any more.
“You wanted her, fantasized about her, I don’t doubt that there used to be a girl called Wendy, Ceri. Back in college? Ah, that hit the mark. Yes, I thought so. But think and look at me, think and look at me and tell me that the idea of that fantasy girl being mind controlled to have sex with you never entered your head.”
“I, yes, but that wasn’t . . . .” The black leather beneath Ceri seemed to be rising up to embrace her naked skin. Or maybe give way as she sank deeper into it. “Rebecca made us fuck each other.”
“McCandliss? A police officer? Think, Ceri, look me in the eye and tell me a police officer is actually a mind controller? Does that sound likely? Look me in the eye and tell me she’s a controller.”
“But . . . ,” Ceri moaned. She stretched her hands out on the leather on either side, it creaked beneath them as she grasped for something to hold on too. She looked deeper into the dark black pools of Lin’s eyes. They sucked her down and down. “She . . . is . . . .”
Lin laughed quietly, “So why would she send you to me, Ceri? If you’re really her slave? Look me in the eye and tell me.”
Ceri’s mouth worked, “I . . . don’t know.” She kept falling or sinking or rising, the world melting around her, fingers clutching at the seat. Losing control. It started to feel so good. “ . . . .”
“Let me tell you. She sent you to me because she’s your friend. She knows what you want and she’s known a long time. Think, Ceri, she knew you, she knew your fantasies, and she sent you to me so you could experience them. Look me in the eye. You’re sitting talking to a real live mind controller, just like you’ve always dreamed of. And you can feel yourself letting me take control, can’t you? Look me in the eye and tell me it doesn’t feel so good.”
Ceri moaned, the sound escaped her lips before she could stop it. Her thighs clenched, the leather becoming wet beneath her naked ass as her pussy juices slicked. “Yes. . . . . But Wendy is-ahhh!”
Soft fingers parted her thighs and then the tongue on her clit made Ceri’s hips buck. “Oh! God!”
“Four likes you,” smiled Lin. “You should be pleased.”
Some part of Ceri issued a warning through the haze of pleasure, “She’s. Uh. Your- omigod. . . . . Mike sai-oh!” A wicked finger probed and thrust inside her cunt, accompanying the delicious pressure on Ceri’s clit.
“Mike said something? Yes, Four’s my lover, but I’m not a possessive sort. Mike, on the other hand . . . . Well, anyway. I think it’s time you gave me my due though, don’t you? After all, my lover is eating you out rather delightfully.”
Ceri gasped, “Whuh?” Her eyes rolled up, held right on the edge of cumming. The finger stilled inside, the tongue feather-light on her swollen clit. She pressed her pelvis forward, rocking it in little needful jerks.
“What’s my name, slave?”
“Please, oh, please let me cum.”
“You know what my name is, so tell me, slave, let me hear you say it and then I’ll let you have what you need.”
Ceri saw herself from above, sprawling on the black leather seat, back arching, her knees raised and spread, Four’s red hood and blonde mane working deep between her thighs. She could feel herself clinging to reality on the end of the thinnest of threads. And she knew she wanted to let it go.
“I’m -uh. Here-for. Oh, Wend- . . . . Ohpleasegodletmecum.”
“And I will when you use my correct title. Look me in the eye, Ceri, look deep into my eyes and know that I’m going to give you everything you need.”
Ceri looked and let the last thread connecting to reality go.
“Please, Mistress, please, Mistres-ahhhhh!”
Ceri sat and listened to Mistress talk and then when Mistress told her, Ceri talked back.
Ceri told Mistress about Wendy, the girl in college she’d fantasized about. She told Mistress how she’d imagined the two of them being mind controlled to have sex. Her constant fetish, her burning desire. She’d even written stories online about it. She told Mistress how she’d tracked down Rebecca McCandliss, her old college friend, a police officer with the knowledge that she’d needed and how Rebecca had sent her to Mistress to fulfil all Ceri’s deepest and most erotic needs.
And, last of all, Ceri told Mistress the most important thing of all.
“There is no Wendy, Ceri, she’s a fantasy in your head, isn’t that right?” said Mistress.
Ceri mewled and thrust her molten pussy into her sister-slave’s eager mouth, “Yes, Mistress!”
A tiny pin prick in her mind made Ceri hesitate, then her sister-slave’s tongue swirled and the sting of pain drowned in pleasure, “Yes, Mistress! There is no Wendy, she’s a fantasy in my head!”
“Good! Enough, Four.” Four sat back, leaving Ceri panting. Mistress rose from her seat. “I believe it’s past time you two paid a little bit of attention to me.”
Mistress gestured and Ceri started to crawl.
Ceri stood by the curtain of the alcove, ram-rod straight, palms against her naked sides, watching as Mistress pulled clothes back on and then fitted a long black leather overcoat around Four’s voluptuous curves. Mistress buttoned up the front, then leaned to whisper something in Four’s ear.
Four’s eyes blinked, then widened. Her hand flew to her mouth, “Oh! Lin! You tranced me! Hehehe, I love you.”
Mistress beamed, slipping her hands around Four’s sides, pulling her into a tight clasp. “I love you too. And yes, tranced you after dinner, we’ve been clubbing, sweetie.” She gave a little nod towards Ceri’s corner of the alcove. Four turned her head.
“Oh, she’s very cute. Damn, look at those ab’s! She work’s out! . . . . Is she going to be a new client? Totally Tina’s type, you know. Mike won’t be happy.”
“Mmm,” said Mistress. “Mike will have to stew. Ceri, say hello to Miss Julia.”
“Hello to Miss Julia.” Ceri’s pussy tingled with the heat of obedience. Mistress sniggered.
Miss Julia whacked Mistress on the shoulder, “Don’t be mean, Lin.” Her full lips pouted.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” said Lin. “Ceri go out and find Mike and tell her that you’re coming to the Farm. Obey Mike like you would me.”
“Yes, Mistress,” said Ceri. As she pulled apart the curtains, some part of her registered surprise to hear sister-slave Four—no, Miss Julia, gently berating Lin and Mistress offering earnest apologies in response.
Outside the curtain, Ceri could feel the eyes of the club on her naked body as she walked around the carpet towards the bar. Pussy juices slicked her thighs as she thought of how mindless and controlled she must look to the watchers. She could see Mike still holding court next to Tina.
Mike nursed a beer bottle, raising it to drink as Ceri reached the bar counter. Mike’s lips twitched upwards slightly at the view.
“Wow,” Tina leaned over the bar, a couple of loose strands of blonde hair escaping from her fringe to fall between her blue eyes. “I did say I wanted to see more of you, Ceri, and that really delivers!”
“Thank you, Tina,” said Ceri. She felt deliciously out of control, yet so utterly obedient to Mistress. My owner. A weird thrill of exhilaration ran down her spine. She felt like she could say or do anything as long as Mistress held her leash. “I think you’re very attractive too, Tina, your naked ass is really spectacular in that dress.”
Beer came out of Mike’s nose. Ceri stood smiling blankly as Tina wiped Mike’s shirt with a bar cloth while fighting the giggles.
“Okay,” said Mike. “Enough of the pair of ya. Tina, when we get back I’m strapping ya in the fucking machine for the night. And as for ya,” Mike cast an appraising eye over Ceri. “I see little plaid skirts, stockings and lots of make-up in yar near future.”
“Oh, c’mon!” Tina rolled her eyes. “I’m just teasing you, hon.”
“Well, don’t,” said Mike. She pulled a plastic dog collar and nylon leash out of her suit pocket, snapping it efficiently around Ceri’s neck. “Follow me, Ceri.”
Apparently customers left the club naked and on a leash all the time as the coat check girl didn’t even blink as Ceri went past. Although part of Ceri did feel pleased with the way the girl blew her a kiss.