HOSTEL
Chapter Thirty Five — Frequent Flyer
EuroAir Flight 77, Berlin TXL to Newark EWR
“She WHAT?”
Rebecca let her jaw hang open to emphasize the point. When Celeste didn’t take the bait, she opened her mouth even more, eyes wide open and buggy. “Come on, that’s not even possible. She’d get arrested!”
“She did get arrested! That’s my point!” The brunette cackled and squirmed in her too-small seat. “They took her off at Hamburg. The hot guy just sat there and didn’t say anything at all, like he had no idea that she was going to do that!”
Rebecca shook her head. “Topless on a train. That’s a first. Don’t people know where the bathrooms are?”
Celeste leaned in, a wicked smile on her pretty face. “I know where there’s a couple of bathrooms, Rebecca Sanders.” She pointed her finger towards the ceiling. “The sign says we’re now free to move about the cabin.”
There were a thousand ways to respond to that. Rebecca went with the most convenient option. She eagerly pressed her lips against her girlfriend’s and pushed them aside with her tongue, one hand firmly buried beneath those wonderful layers of soft brown hair and keeping them both locked in place. She waited until her lungs could bear no more, then, greedy for more, waited a bit longer.
The brunette drew back, sputtering and gasping for air. Her cheeks glowed. “W… wow. Are you s-sure you don’t want to join the mile high club?”
Rebecca was glowing, too. A certain lower part of her body was glowing like a red-hot fireplace poker, but she wasn’t quite ready to strip off her top and dog pile the beauty in the seat next to her. Maybe after a few more world-stopping kisses, sure. Almost certainly, the way things were headed. She’d allow herself to be hauled off the plane in handcuffs for Celeste Sherwood any day of the week.
“Hey Celeste,” she threw out, hoping to give herself a little time to cool down. “Did you ever imagine, when you were on that train chasing that guy, that you’d end up here? Flying back home with your new girlfriend?”
“Fuck him! Who needs Euro-dick when you’ve got good old-fashioned American snatch?” Celeste giggled. “Besides, you live a lot closer to me than Ludwig von Onenightstand.” She placed her hand on the seat divider, wiggling her fingers until Rebecca placed her hand on top of them. “And you’re a lot hotter than he’ll ever be.”
“Let’s see if you still think that when I come visit for Christmas.”
Now it was Celeste’s turn to lunge in for a massive kiss, one that left Rebecca dazed and fighting a tremendous urge to jam a hand beneath her panties. “I’ve been… mmmm… I’ve… been thinking that ever since the first time I saw you at that funky dance club. Just me, staring at your hot ass, amazed that you were even giving me the time of day!”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
Rebecca still had her hand on top of Celeste’s when she said it, and she could feel the twitch her words caused. She studied the girl’s face, worried that she’d said something wrong. Celeste looked back at her, at once perfectly fine and also, just maybe, a little sad. Rebecca tried backpedaling. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Celeste replied, smiling and squeezing Rebecca’s hand and doing everything she could to make it seem like it was nothing. “How do you remember it?”
“I don’t… you just got weird there for a second, like I said something wrong.”
“No! Oh my God no! I mean it, Rebecca! I’m curious. It’s weird that I never asked you about it.”
“Well.” Rebecca closed her eyes, replacing the gentle hum of their 777 with the thub and wub of “Club Trabant. It’s busy, right? And I’m thinking that Emily would be so mad if she knew, because when we went there a couple of nights before, it was so empty! So I’m like, what the fuck, why not? I’ll go in! Grab a drink, check out the crowd? So I walk in the door and I go right up to the bar, and I… did you see me try to talk to that tall German girl?”
“Yeah! Yeah!” Celeste’s head eagerly bobbed up and down. “Oh, man. She was hot, though. I don’t blame you for trying.”
“Uh-huh. Fuuuuuck. She’s all jabbering at me in light speed German and I probably looked like an idiot! So I bail, pretend like I need to get a new drink, and I start looking for where the bartender went. Then I see this insanely hot brunette sitting alone, and she’s gorgeous and has amazing hair.”
“Hmmm.” Celeste rewarded her with a sweet peck on the cheek. “Did she have nice boobs, too?”
“Couldn’t tell. She really likes these big bulky sweaters for some weird reason. Really nice smile and pretty eyes, though.”
“Maybe she gets cold easily.”
“Maybe her girlfriend gave her the extra blanket and pillow because she knows that.”
Celeste patted the scratchy brown blanket covering her legs. “You’re sweet. I mean, what are the odds, Rebecca? That we’d be in this big city at the same time in the same place? And that we’d be so perfect together?
“That’s how memories get made.” Rebecca gathered up her own blanket, which was in danger of slipping off her knees, and added it to Celeste’s collection. “When I get back, we’re gonna make a few thousand more of those memories.” She unbuckled her seat belt and let it flop again the seat divider with a clunk.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom,” said Rebecca. She saw Celeste’s eyes light up. “For bathroom stuff.”
“Fine,” Celeste pouted. “Say hi to Emily back there, if she’s still awake.”
“I bet she’s out cold. She sleeps like a baby on planes. Its ridiculous. Oh, and Celeste?”
“Yeah?”
Just thinking the words made her insanely happy. Saying them was icing on the cake. “I love you more than anything in the world.”
One Week Ago
“Fuck, I needed a good fucking after this hell week! You are amazing, babe.” Rebecca closed her eyes and stretched, knowing that her girlfriend was eagerly taking in every inch of her sweaty, naked body. The image lasted until her knuckled rapped painfully against their new headboard.
“Ow! Stupid… I keep forgetting that thing’s there,” she complained, knocking on the offending piece of furniture. “We need to buy more pillows for this headboard.”
Celeste yawned and stretched, too, a cat basking in the glow of a lazy, sunny Sunday morning. She ran her hands through her damp, messy hair and groaned. “I’m not leaving the apartment today. Too cold. Did you see the weather report?”
“High of, like, seven? Yeah, it’s a bed day.” She sighed, hoping that it would bring the naked brunette into her arms. Get over here, sexy. But Celeste remained where she was, frustratingly out of arms reach. She lay on the bed with her head propped up on one elbow-bent arm, a delectable fashion model somehow transported into Rebecca’s bedroom. “Unless you have an even better idea?”
She did. Rebecca could almost see the gears turn in her brain. “Can we try something today?”
“Ooh!” Rebecca’s eyebrows darted up. “Always, always, what do you have in mind?”
“Well…” Celeste took a deep breath, then coughed it back out. “I… ahem… whew! Shit, wrong pipe. Anyway. I was thinking about those old TV shows again. It got me thinking.”
“Should we do secret agents again?” Rebecca curled her hand into a facsimile of a handgun, finger-barrel aimed straight at her girlfriend’s head. “Come with me, Agent Celeste, for your debriefing.” She laughed, kissing the tip of her finger and blowing away a puff of imaginary smoke. “That was a fun night. I let Emily borrow our handcuffs, though.”
“No, I… I was thinking you could be an evil therapist, and hypnotize me into being your mindless slave. You’re swinging a watch and telling me how sleepy I’m getting, and I’m trying to fight it, but it’s so hard, and…” Her voice grew in pace and intensity, her hands waving wildly as she spoke. “And finally I give in, and I’m completely under your control.”
Rebecca’s gun turned back into a hand again, and she rested her fingers on her forehead. She shot Celeste a skeptical look. “That’s not exactly sexy, is it? I mean, you’d be a zombie in a trance.”
Celeste cupped her boobs and raised them. “Yes, Mistress. My body is yours to play with. I will do anything I am told.”
Her hard nipples and flush skin hinted that this was more than just a passing fantasy, and Rebecca was tempted to throw herself into it. Even the dullest role-play had its moments of sexy heat, especially if at least one of them was really, really into it. And yet… “Mmm, maybe. Remember that time when you were my magician’s assistant and I hypnotized you? I dunno. That was… not my favorite?”
“I liked it.” Celeste collapsed onto the mattress and rolled into her lover’s waiting arms. “I think it’s hot to lose control. Vampires, hypnotists, magicians… it’s a thing.” She looked up at Rebecca. “We don’t have to do that, though.”
“You want to, though.”
“Uh, clearly.”
“Okay.” Rebecca stretched again, this time mindful of the looming headboard. “Let’s make some breakfast, and then we’ll watch some old shows and try to get inspired. Deal?”
The brunette was a million smiles. “Deal!”
“I love you, Celeste.” It felt so good to say it, over and over and over. It always did. “I love you more than anything in the world.”
Now
“Sorry, I gotta… Rebecca? I’m back from the bathroom.” The redhead waited patiently in the aisle, one hand on the seat back, her right foot still trying to tap out three and a half hours of pent-up energy. “Did I wake you?”
“No, you’re fine.” Mistress flipped open her seat belt and climbed out of her seat, taking care not to bump the fully reclined seat of the man in front of her. He’d finally quieted down after what seemed like an eternity of snoring, and she was afraid she would accidentally jostle him back into lumberyard mode. A few creaky acrobatic moves later and she was standing in the aisle as well, wobbling on jelly legs, watching her seat mate slide across to the window. She waited patiently for the woman to settle in, then rejoined her in the row.
“Hmph.” The woman—Kelly was her name, Kelly Pallone from Oak Park—eyed her skimpy airline-provided pillow with disdain. “I left my travel pillow behind again. These things they give you are about as thick as a sock. Do you think they have any extras?”
“We can ask, I guess.”
“No.” She clutched the flimsy pillow with both hands. “They’re probably getting settled in for the rest of the night. I don’t want to bother them. It won’t matter. I can’t ever sleep on planes, anyway. Am I bothering you? I’ll shut up.”
“You’re fine, Kelly,” said Mistress, returning the woman’s broad smile with a reassuring one of her own. “And I can turn off my reading light if that’ll help you get to sleep.”
“No, it’s…” She paused, and stifled a blooming laugh, her hand cupped over her face. “I was going to say it’s okay, but I just said that. Ha! I guess we’ve run out of things to talk about, Rebecca.”
“To be fair, it’s been almost four hours.”
“True.” Kelly stretched as best she could in her cramped seat, a shallow sleeping alcove being hurtled across the cold, dark Atlantic. “What are you going to do in Berlin? Are you staying in town or exploring?”
“It’s just a quick last-minute trip. I found this fare online and I figured, what the hell, right?” She looked around the cabin, mindful of her volume. Most of her fellow passengers were already bundled up and doing their best to get a few hours of rest.
“Me too!” Kelly caught herself and lowered her voice to match Mistress’s. “I’ve never been to Berlin. This was a cheap flight, and I found a cheap hostel to go with it. It all worked out to under seven hundred for everything. You just can’t say no to that!”
Hostel. The temperature dropped fifty degrees in an instant, and Mistress found herself wishing she had stolen a few more of those thin blankets. She also wished, more than anything, that Kelly had said a nice bed and breakfast instead. “Hostel? Do you remember the name of it?” Inside, her heart was ready to explode.
Kelly tapped her chin. “Um… something generic, like ‘Hostel Berlin’ or ‘Hostel Inn.’ Something that ends with ‘—in.’ I have it written down. It’s in… um… Halensee? Halansee? It’s west of downtown.”
Mistress let out a breath she didn’t remember holding in. She felt like an over-stoked boiler desperately venting steam. “Cool,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound like an over-stoked boiler. “I stayed at a really terrible hostel the last time I was in Berlin, but it wasn’t in that neighborhood. You’ll be fine. It’ll be nice.”
“I hope I can get a good day’s worth of sleep after I check in. Jet lag always kicks my ass. On these overseas trips I always try to stay an extra day, knowing that the first one’s a wash.”
“Well, I know…”
She paused.
It would be so easy to do it. A focus was all she needed. The screen built into their seats. The lit ‘no smoking’ light over their heads. Hell, even the pillow behind her… okay, maybe not the pillow. A few carefully-chosen words, a soft voice, and Kelly would be quiet for the rest of the flight. So, so easy.
And so easy to enslave.
She looked over at her seat mate. Kelly wasn’t particularly pretty; she wasn’t particularly unattractive, either, but Mistress has spoiled herself with Celeste. She didn’t need another slave. She didn’t want another slave. But just like Emily, Kelly called to her. Pulled at her. So, so easy.
“I want you to hypnotize me,” said Kelly. “I want you to put me into a deep hypnotic trance, and brainwash me into being perfect and obedient. Your mindless slave, Mistress.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I said, are you feeling okay? You got really pale all of a sudden.” Kelly looked down at her carry-on bag, tucked neatly under the seat in front of her. “I have some motion-sickness pills if you need them.”
“Oh. I’m, uh… no, that’s okay.”
Kelly bent down anyway, and pulled her bag towards her feet. She snapped open the top and rummaged inside. “If it’s fine with you,” she said, still rummaging, “I’m going to read for a bit until I hopefully fall asleep. Or I finish the book, which is more likely. I hate hate hate sleeping on planes.”
That lure again. Shiny. Pretty. Dangling right in front of her. Mistress bit down on it.
“Actually,” she began, “I found a perfect way to get a good night’s sleep on planes. No chloroform necessary.” Her eyes twinkled. “Do you want to hear about it?”
Kelly fell back into place, paperback in hand. She gave her bag a few kicks until it was properly stowed away. “Really? Do you, like, meditate or something?”
“A lot like that.” The hook set itself. There was no going back now. “You focus on something and try to clear your head.” She pointed to the console above their heads. “Like the ‘no smoking’ light.”
“Oh.” Kelly’s eyes were drawn skyward. “So I just stare at it? Is this, like, hypnosis or something?”
“No,” she lied. “Better than that.” She switched off her reading lamp so that all that remained was the soft, yellow glow of a crossed-out cigarette. “Just look at that light, and take deep breaths, and I’m going to start counting backwards. And you’ll get more and more relaxed until you fall asleep.”
The redhead looked unconvinced, but she stared at the glowing symbol anyway. “This sounds a lot like hypnosis,” she groused. “But if it gets me to sleep…”
“It will. Now clear your mind of all thoughts. One hundred.” Her voice dropped into a smooth, even cadence, as natural as breathing. “Ninety nine, deep breaths.”
Kelly followed her instructions. As she exhaled, her body sagged in her seat.
In the darkness, Mistress smiled. “Focus on the light. Ninety eight.”
“You’re deeply hypnotized, Kelly.”
“Yes.” A murmur, barely audible above the hum of the engines.
“You will hear only my voice.”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to have a wonderful time in Berlin. It feels so wonderful to think about it, doesn’t it?”
“Mmm.” Kelly smiled. “Yeah.”
“If anyone asks you to go to a place called Club Trabant, you will say no. The thought of going to a place like that makes you sick to your stomach. Do you understand? You’ll find yourself physically unable to enter Club Trabant.”
“I…” Confusion darkened her otherwise peaceful face. “I…”
“You will not go to Club Trabant. Repeat and believe.”
“I will not go to Club Trabant.”
“Good. Knowing that you won’t go there makes us both feel wonderful. So wonderful and relaxed and safe. So sleepy.”
“Mmmm.”
“So sleepy, Kelly. In fact, if you start to wake up and realize that the plane is still in the air, you’ll feel even more tired, and you’ll sink back down into a deep restful sleep. You’ll only wake up if the plane lands or if I wake you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
The next words spilled out of her before she could even think to stop them. “You will always obey the sound of my voice, Kelly.”
“Yes, Rebecca.”
Shit. That pull. That pull again. The overwhelming urge to brainwash the helpless, pliant woman in 36F. To make her a slave. Even if they never saw one another again, just having her as a slave, secretly, ready to call and program at a moment’s notice…
Just like Alice?
The fire in her cooled, and with it, the urge to rewrite Kelly’s mind. She looked at her hands. “I guess I’ve got enough blood on them as it is.”
Kelly didn’t respond. Neither did her hands.
“Deep sleep now, Kelly. Deep sleep.” She could hardly say the words fast enough.
“Blank and obedient.”
Twenty pairs of dull, mindless eyes looked past her to the large, hypnotic display projected on the wall. Ten mouths responded as one. “Blank and obedient.”
Mistress walked past them, a drill sergeant inspecting her newest troops. She ignored Kelly—sweet, tasty Kelly, who squealed when she orgasmed—and focused her attention on the short woman standing next to her. “What is your name, slave?”
“I have no name, Mistress. I am blank and obedient.”
“Take off that bikini.”
“Yes, Mistress.” The woman—Gabriella was her name, or at least, it had been—mechanically slipped free from her bikini top and, with a wiggle, her bottom. Her pussy glistened.
“Very nice, slave. I love your curves.” Mistress’s hands explored them, coming to rest on the woman’s hips. “You’re going to be a lot of fun.” Her hand crept forward. “Shaved smooth, just like your mind. Blank and obedient. You’ll come only when I command you to.”
Blank or not, the former Gabriella gasped as Mistress’s fingers reached their destination. “Yes Missssss… nnnn…”
“The pleasure is only in your mind. The pleasure you feel is the pleasure of being enslaved. No one else must know of your true self. You must keep the pleasure inside you, hidden away.”
“The pleasure is only in my mind.” Her eyelids fluttered and slid closed. Her hands fell loosely to her sides. “I will hide it from others. I am blank and obedient.”
“What will you remember when I wake you up?”
“Attention passengers,” she droned. “This is the captain reporting in from the flight deck. Aahhh, we’re about three hours from London, looking at patch of rough weather ahead…”
“…we might hit some minor turbulence as we move around this storm system. Just a reminder to everyone to keep their seat belts fastened at all times, and to minimize movement about the cabin until the seat belt sign turns off.”
Mistress opened her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Fuck. What time is it? Her phone read a quarter to three, but that was Chicago time; her brain was too fuzzy to attempt time zone math. She was about to give up and make another attempt at getting some sleep when she noticed just how damp her panties were. Shit. I wonder if I can sneak down to the bath—fuck, no, the seat belt thing. The last thing she wanted was to get scolded by a flight attendant while standing there in the aisle, sopping wet and smelling like it. If she slept the rest of the way, she reasoned, things would dry out on their own.
Kelly stirred, her eyes open but unfocused. She patiently listed to the rest of the captain’s announcement, waiting for any sign of the words landing shortly. Hearing none, she sighed, and her eyes rolled into her head before she dropped back down into trance.
Mistress was tempted to give her sleeping seat mate a pat on the shoulder, but realized in time that a touch would likely break the spell. She settled for a motherly smile and a whispered “Good girl, Kelly. Sleep.”
Memories of her dream swam to the surface Blank and obedient.
“Stop.” Now she was whispering to herself, grateful that everyone around her was wearing headphones or, like Kelly, had settled down to sleep out the remaining hours. Still, her whispers seemed to echo across the dark cabin, no matter how much her mind tried to remind her that the only person who could realistically hear her was Kelly.
Kelly. So blank and obedient. You made her that way.
“That wasn’t… that wasn’t for that.” She gritted her teeth. Who the hell was she arguing with? And why? This wasn’t helping at all. It wasn’t like she didn’t have other, bigger things to worry about. Feeling guilty over a sexy dream was bad enough; actually fighting her own brain about it was ridiculous. So what if it made her hot and horny? Sexy dreams did that.
But you still made her that way. So blank and obedient. Programmed to obey you.
“I didn’t make her that way. Fuck, if anything, Celeste…” Her whisper died in her mouth. Her girlfriend. Her beautiful, funny, sweet girlfriend. Celeste created Mistress. Celeste created Sleeping Kelly. Celeste would probably be happy if Mistress came home with a dozen new mindless slaves in tow. Sure, she’d be happy even if that didn’t happen, but… why the hell would she be happy if it did?
Because she created you. You’re the Rebecca she really wants. The Rebecca from the hostel. The Rebecca who brainwashed all of the guests. The Rebecca who took her to the park to hypnotize those two Russian girls.
Their Airbus bumped through a rough patch of air and dropped, taking Mistress’s stomach along with it. The plane recovered soon enough. Her stomach continued to drop. “She’s cheating on Rebecca with me, that’s what she’s doing. Holy fuck, Celeste!”
“Hnnnnn.” Kelly rose again, stirred by Mistress’s voice, then sank into trance. An annoyed expression remained on her sleeping face.
She made me to replace Rebecca. And Rebecca doesn’t know about it. Rebecca thinks they’re all happy and in love. And when she’s asleep, Celeste is fucking me instead!
The plane dipped and rolled to its left, but Mistress was too lost in her own head to notice. Not my head. Our head. If Rebecca knew what I was doing right now! If Rebecca know what I was thinking right now!
She looked up at the ceiling console, focused on the crossed-out cigarette and its new companion, a glowing seat belt. The plane continued shudder and bounce. “Come on, Rebecca,” she said to the ceiling. “Come on up out of there. We need to talk. You need to know about me the way I know about you. Wake up, kid.”
Wake up.
In her mind, she unbuckled her seat belt and began to float above her seat, independent of the airplane that contained her. You’re free, Rebecca. You’re unbuckled. Float up here with me. Float up to the surface.
She was seven years old again, at the State Fair for the first time, hypnotized by the cotton candy machine. The strands were too fine to see with the naked eye, but as soon as the white paper stick entered the tub, they seemed to form out of thin air. Not pulled, not stretched, just… coalescing into existence, like a puffy cloud in a blue sky.
And just like that, Rebecca existed.
“I remember that day!” Rebecca covered her mouth and stifled a giggle. “I begged and begged mom to let me ride the spinning teacups and I ended up coating the whole thing in electric blue vomit!”
“I still hate that color,” Mistress agreed. “Fourteen years later and still brings back bad memories!” She giggled as well, more out of surprise than anything; the memory hadn’t existed for her until five seconds ago, but now it was part of her, just the same as any of her own memories. It makes sense, I guess. It’s our brain, after all.
“It’s my brain,” Rebecca countered. “What the hell are you… oh. Oh shit. Oh my God!”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure that as soon as I think of it, you think of it. That’s why one of us is always supposed to be asleep. To hide…”
“…us from each other. But you knew about me because Celeste told you.”
Mistress nodded, her head motioned encouraged by another round of turbulence. “I guess I’m the hostel version of you. You remember now about what really happened, right?”
Rebecca fumbled with the seat belt latch until it popped free. She threw the two belts aside and stood, one hand braced against the ceiling console. “We’re headed to the bathroom. Now.”
“But the seat belt… oh.”
“Yeah. We’re gonna puke. Hang on.”
They bounced down the aisle like a pinball.
“You’ve got five seconds to start talking, Brandon, before I knock that soul patch right off of your chin!”
Emily rolled her eyes and groaned. “Ahhhh! Random 90’s reference!” She hoisted her coffee mug into the air. “Drink, everyone drink!”
Next to her, Roger lifted his empty glass and pretended to guzzle its invisible contents. “Thank God I’m not drinking booze,” he said, tapping his girlfriend’s mug before setting the glass down. “I’d be wasted!”
“This show is almost bad enough to be ‘so bad, it’s good.’,” said Emily. “Alllllmost.”
Celeste crossed her arms and pouted. “Come on! They’re hot and they solve crimes? What’s not to like?”
“The hacker girl just hacked into the Pentagon. Into the Pentagon! And found the laser plans in, like, five seconds!” Emily cupped her hands around her mouth and aimed the resulting tunnel at the screen. “Boooooo!”
“It was the 90’s! People could do that back then!”
“Booooooo!”
“Fine, you win!” Celeste reached for the remote. “You guys gave it the good college try, right? Two episodes. I’ll accept that.” The screen faded to black and then came to life again, midway through a commercial for laundry detergent. “What do we watch instead?”
Roger and Emily held a brief conference, huddling together and whispering into each other’s ear. From her position, Celeste could only make out a string of hushed possessives; mysterious names like ‘Jackson’s’ and ‘McTwinney’s’ flew between boyfriend and girlfriend. Celeste steeled herself for a night out as a third wheel.
Not that the young couple wasn’t blast to be with. Emily was a firecracker wherever she went, and Roger was a good guy. The little seeds Celeste planted in his sleepy mind when she had him under were already starting to bear fruit, she noted with satisfaction. He was always on time now; he held doors open for Emily like a gentleman; and he was mentally and physically incapable of cheating on her. The same Roger, only better.
The redhead ended her impromptu conference by clapping her hands. “Perfect,” she declared. She turned to Celeste. “Kay. We decided to kidnap you and take you out.”
Roger nodded. “Just because Rebecca is stuck at her parent’s house without you doesn’t mean that you have to suffer, too! There’s a bar called ‘8th Street’ that’s on… well, 8th Street.”
“And it’s fun and loud and noisy, and tonight is Ladies Night. So cheap booze for us, cowgirl!” Emily flashed a dazzling, irresistible smile. “Up for it? There’s really no wrong answer, because we’re kidnapping you if you say no.”
“Sure!”
On the surface, Celeste was all for it. She missed Rebecca. She missed her Mistress. Being ‘kidnapped’ by her new best friends wasn’t quite the same as being hypnotized and controlled by her girlfriend, but it was close enough. What the pretty redhead lacked in hypnotic skills, she made up for with brute force of will. Whether it was a dinky dance club in old East Berlin or the American Midwest’s equivalent, one did as Emily commanded.
It made Celeste’s pussy tingle just thinking about it.
“I used to love airports,” said Rebecca. “I still do. Just not this fucking airport. We should have done this over the phone, Miss.”
“You keep calling me that.”
“Because ‘Mistress’ makes me want to puke? I’m sorry, I know it’s not your fault, but that’s not who I am. Not at all.” She pulled her coat around her as she waited at the far end of the Express Bus stop, away from the other passengers. It gave them both the opportunity to talk out loud, one at a time, without their competing thoughts crashing together like waves on a very small pond. “I don’t want to hypnotize people anymore, Miss. All I ever did was fuck things up.”
“We gotta fix this, Rebecca.” Mistress reached into her jacket pocket and mentally counted the change inside. Seven Euros, more than enough for the bus. “If Alice knows that we know, it’ll break her. At least enough to scare the shit out of her. At least enough to make her back off. Remember what you used to say?”
“Yeah, I can fix this. But I never fucking did, Mistress! Oh, goddammit! Don’t make me say that!”
In the distance, the TXL bus came into view, its headlights cutting a path through the early morning gloom. Mistress pulled out a fistful of coins. “It’s who I am, Rebecca. It’s what I am. Now I need you, and you need me, and together we’re going to pull off a Mission fucking Impossible, okay?”
Okay. We should probably not talk out loud like a crazy person on the bus.
Jesus. And these people think they have problems! We’re taking a bus to the lion’s den, to throw rocks at the lion. On purpose!
This was your idea… Mistress.
Rebecca. You know what?
Yeah, I know. We know. Let’s go deal with this bitch once and for all.
Club Trabant was dead.
A small and very drunk group of Russians kept Peter busy behind the bar, but the rest of the club was practically deserted. A few locals made a go of it on the dance floor, taking advantage of the extra space to spin and flail to their heart’s content without fear of crashing into someone willing to start a fight over it. The DJ, bored and trapped in his booth, checked his watch often.
“It does pick up in here, I assure you! And the drinks are on me, dearie. You look like you could use a good stiff one after that nasty row.”
“I’m sorry.” The girl pushed the shot glass away and reached for her purse. “I should go. My sister… that was my sister. We fight sometimes, but it’s not a big deal. Really. But thanks for the offer, um…” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Hannah.”
“Hannah! I’m so pleased to meet you! I’m Alice. I’m afraid I’m not much for hand-shaking, dearie. Bit of an odd custom, isn’t it?”
The girl lowered her hand. “I guess. Anyway. I should find my sister before she gets into trouble.”
“Feel free to ignore my advice, Hannah, but I’d recommend giving her a bit of a cooling off time first. She seemed quite angry!” She patted the table. “Here. I could use a drink after the day I’ve had, and I’m sure you could, too. I’m usually too busy running around to really get to meet any of my customers, so this is quite a rare moment!”
“I… okay. You’re right. She gets all mad at me whenever I want to decide what to do or where to go, you know? It’s so stupid.”
“And by tomorrow, you’ll be best of friends again. Siblings! I’m lucky to have been an only child. Wouldn’t know what to do with another one of me running around this city!” She pushed the shot glass forward again. “I had Peter bring out the strong stuff, mind you. I like to think of it as my personal private reserve.”
“What is it?” The girl peered over the edge of the glass.
“The locals call it Himbeergeist, but between the two of us, it’s just a fancy way of saying ‘schnapps.’ You can always trust the Germans to use as many letters as possible for everything!”
“I bet their Scrabble boards are enormous!” Hannah laughed. It felt good to laugh. She dabbed her face with one of the tissues she kept in her purse for just that purpose, and resumed her study of the shot glass. “There’s something in the bottom of it? In the glass, I mean.”
“Ah! Yes. I’m afraid my motives aren’t entirely altruistic, dearie.” The Irish woman leaned forward, elbows carefully balanced on the wobbly table, head in her hands. “You see, I’ve just got these new models in, and I haven’t decided whether to order more of them or not. There’s a little spiral design at the bottom, but I can’t decide if it’s visible once the glasses are filled. Can you see it, Hannah?”
“I can!” Her spirits rose with her voice, and she leaned forward to match the club owner’s posture. Her eye hovered directly over the glass. “It’s cute! It’s almost like it’s spinning.” She laughed again, the earlier fight with her sister almost forgotten. “Or maybe I’m spinning!”
“Very good eye, dearie! I see you’re quite good at noticing details! Now, the secret is, the longer you stare at it, the more it seems to be spinning. Faster and faster, almost like a whirlpool.”
“Yeah.” Her nose twitched, and her grin faded into a confused half-smile. “Yeah, it really does. Faster.”
“So captivating, Hannah It draws you in. Draws you down. Down. Deeper, down. Deeper and deeper. So tired and sleepy.”
Her head, so heavy and tired, came to rest on the table. Her eyes remained locked on the glass. “I can still… still see…”
“Yes, dearie. You can still see the spiral. In fact, if you close your eyes, you’ll find that my perky spiral will still be in front of you, pulling you deeper. Close your eyes now.”
She did as she was told.
Alice lifted the entranced girl’s soft, limp hand and let it fall back to the table. “Sleep, Hannah. Deeper and deeper.”
“Deeper… and deeper.”
“Very good. Now, when I count to three, you’ll—”
“Wake up and get the hell out of this club?”
Alice looked up. Her mouth opened wide, then closed, a very unhappy frown taking shape as she curled her hands into loose fists. “You? Of all people? Well, I don’t know what to say?”
“Your face says it all.” Mistress slid into the booth, gently nudging the entranced Hannah aside until there was enough room for both of them. “Hi, Alice. I see you’re up to your usual.” She swiped the shot glass out from under Hannah’s nose and downed it, squinting with momentary pain. “Ugh. That’ll clear out my sinuses!”
Alice recovered quickly, unclenching her hands and folding them in front of her. Her frown vanished as well. “I’m simply conducting some business, dearie. Poor Hannah here is awfully tired.”
“I bet she is.” Mistress snapped her fingers in front of the girl’s face, and gave her an elbow between the ribs for good measure. Emily would approve, she thought, as the girl slowly regained her senses. “Hannah, you look really tired. Do you want me to get you a cab?”
Hannah shook her head, partly as an answer and partly to clear away the cobwebs. “I… no, I’ll be okay.” She looked at the glass, then at Alice, then back to Mistress. Her face turned a deep shade of red. “I’m sorry, I think I had too much to drink.”
Alice opened her mouth to protest, but Mistress was running the show now, and she quickly intervened. “It happens to all of us. No worries, right? Alice can have Peter the bartender call you a cab. It’s on me.”
“Have you got a room, dearie?” Alice did her best to look as concerned and matronly as possible. “I happen to own a hostel just up the street that’s quite comfortable.”
“And full. Isn’t that right, Alice?”
“Rebecca.” In Alice’s mouth, it became more of a threat than a name. “I assure you that I can take. Care. Of. It.” Her glacial blue eyes spit icy daggers at Mistress. “I’m most appreciative of your concerns, but a long cab ride in the middle of the night is hardly appropriate at the moment.”
Hannah’s purse began to play jazz music.
“That’s probably…” Hannah slipped a hand inside her purse and retrieved her phone, cutting off the ringtone in the middle of a saxophone solo. “Yeah, hey. Hey! I’m glad you… can you come get me, Mikaela? I’m still at that club. It’s, uh…” She looked at Alice. “Yeah, I started chatting with the owner. She seems pretty cool.”
Alice beamed. Mistress rolled her eyes.
“Anyway, come get me. Okay? Yeah, look, I’m sorry. About what I said. I…” Alice and Mistress looked on as the girl engineered her own rescue. “Okay, yeah, see you in five. Yeah. Yeah, I owe you one. I’ll be at the front door. Bye!”
Hannah tossed her phone back into her purse, sweeping the bag off the seat and hoisting it over her shoulder. “I gotta go,” she announced, her knees politely but firmly encouraging Mistress to move out of the way. “My sister’s gonna meet me out front. It was so nice to meet you, Alice!”
“It was! I do hope you come back before your holiday’s over, dearie! You and your sister! Those shots are still on the house whenever you’d like to collect them!”
Mistress slid out of the booth, followed by the pretty blonde. She didn’t bother to hide her triumphant smirk as she let Hannah escape. The empty club allowed them both a long, lingering view of Hannah’s too-tight skirt and long, toned legs as she marched to the front door and out into the cold night.
The cheese stands alone, Rebecca smirked. Do you want to go first, or should I?
“I’ll give you the honors,” said Mistress. She pulled herself into the booth before Alice could leave, reaching for the remaining shot glass. “Sit, Alice. Stay. Make yourself comfortable. It’s dead in here. No need to rush off.”
“Full of bluster and piss now, are we?” Alice crossed her arms, her elbows resting on the edge of the table. “Flown back out here all the way from America to have your say? Well, before you open that arrogant mouth of yours again, Rebecca, I encourage you to think very carefully about what happens next.” The words dripped from her lips like acid. “You’re playing a very dangerous game right now, and you’ve not even bothered to read the full instructions. So my advice, dearie, is to choose your next words very carefully.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Rebecca stared down her foe. “We will.”