Taken. Part V.
“I’m only wearing this because you made me like it,” said Ceri. She ran her fingers across the hem of her tiny pink skirt, barely protecting her modesty in the back of the car. Her pussy juiced, even as a part of her tried to muster some outrage at Lin’s manipulation of her desires. Before leaving their hotel, she’d paid careful attention to painting her fingernails bright red and selecting a plunging black top to go with the strip of cloth clinging to her hips. Strappy platform heels and a silver-studded dog collar completed her look. No underwear, of course. “I’d never wear this before I met you, Mistress.”
Lin sat on the other side of the plush rear seat. Mike drove, Carole in the passenger seat. Lin wore black patent leather knee boots under a long dark skirt, crisp white buttoned-up jacket, leather gloves, cashmere scarf, and a black woolen beret into which every hair had been carefully tucked. No skin exposed beyond her face; no trace of hair on her clothing. Back in the hotel suite, Ceri remembered watching from the corner of the room, on her knees, while Mike carefully painted strange symbols across Lin’s breasts and stomach, over her hips and along her thighs. Lin looked at Ceri now, a slight crease in her forehead.
“Well, I hope you like the change, Ceri,” Lin said. She bit her lip, looking out as the car rolled past a row of shops selling knock-off designer watches and handbags. She muttered, “Although I’m obviously going to have to reinforce your conditioning. Again.” Her nostrils flared. “Are we there yet?”
Mike snorted, “Do ya kids want to watch a movie?” She wore a heavy duty motor jacket and jeans. “I have some cartoons.”
Lin pulled a face.
“We’re almost there, Mistress. Another mile,” said Carole. She wore a grey business suit, a laptop resting on her legs flickered with stock prices. She had a radio piece clipped in her right ear. “Our security confirms that your appointment has entered the building with one other individual. A blonde answering our description.” Ceri’s heart thudded. “They are continuing to monitor the exterior.”
“Good. Good hires, Carole,” said Lin. Her fingers drummed on the car windowsill.
“Ya know this is nice,” said Mike. Her lips twitched at the corners. She turned the car past an ambulance stopped outside a deli, its lights flashing. A crowd of gawkers obscured the medical crisis occurring.
“What’s nice?” said Lin.
Mike sing-songed a little, “Juliaaa makes ya want to be a betterrr perrrson.”
Lin’s teeth ground. “After this is over we’re hitting a sorority.”
Mike cackled, “And she’s baaaack!” The car slowed, rolling down a long avenue of ancient brownstones, carefully tended shrubs and bushes in each little garden. Cars lined the kerbs on either side; blocking any parking space. Mike pursed her lips, “This is it.”
She brought the car to a stop outside one of the brownstones. Pristine white steps flanked by painted iron railings lead up to an imposing white door. Mike glanced up and down the street. “Don’t see the security. They here?”
Carole nodded, “Yes, Miss. They’re very good. I made sure of it.”
“I can’t park here, Lin. I’m going to wait and circle. Carole when Lin comes out I better know immediately. Immediately. Is that clear?”
“Of course.” Carole’s elegant left eyebrow rose a fraction. “Miss.”
“Play nice you two,” said Lin. “Follow, Ceri.” Lin popped the lock on her door and stepped out. Ceri slid over and followed, standing obediently behind Lin.
“Heh!” Mike leaned back over the edge of the driver’s seat. “See ya on the other side, babe.” Her motor jacket fell open as she leaned. Ceri’s hair prickled as she glimpsed a small handgun holstered against Mike’s left side. Oh, shit.
Lin smiled, leaned down, “Be sure of it.” She closed the car door and pulled a light silver dog chain from her suit pocket, clipping it into Ceri’s collar.
“Ready, slave?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Ceri stayed to heel as they climbed the steps to the brownstone’s door. A large white buzzer set into a swirling leaf design lay fixed in the center of the wood.
“For the record, I like your look in a muscle shirt, but Mike doesn’t like Tina’s eye wandering, so that’s why you’ve gone femme.”
Lin pressed the buzzer.
“Okay. Game time.”
The door opened without a sound.
“Good afternoon, I am Maid Lisa, may I ask your business today?”
A petite Asian maid with purple streaks in her hair, and a skirt so shiny that Ceri could see her reflection in it stood in the doorway. The maid’s front scooped to reveal deep cleavage. A wicked strip of olive flesh teased between the hem of the maid’s skirt and the tops of her equally shiny black stockings. Ceri licked her lips without thinking twice.
Lin took her time to admire the view before replying, “I am Madame Lin, and this is my slave. A summit has been arranged here for this afternoon.”
Maid Lisa’s eyes widened, her breasts shivering deliciously, “Oh, geez. Really? Nobody told me. Um, I better check the appointments, please come in and wait in the hall.”
The maid stepped back, holding the door for Lin and Ceri to enter the building.
The hallway had a high ceiling, with deep green velvet-lined walls on which lurid patterns swirled, daring the eye to follow them. On their left, a tall mirror with an ornate gold frame hung above a white marble half-table on which an exquisite glass-encased clock ticked. A flight of stairs rose up on the right, carpeted in deep red. Intricate black-and-white diamond patterns laced across the floor. Other than the clock, no other sound could be heard.
Tick-tock.
“If you’ll just wait here with your slave, I’ll fetch Mistress.” Maid Lisa bobbed. She took to the stairs, revealing a perfectly rounded ass as she rose upwards. She paused and turned her head, her mouth upturned, “Please feel free to take your slave off her chain. Just relax and wait.”
Tick-tock.
Sounds good, thought Ceri. She could feel herself calming down after the sudden nervous spike before the door swung open. Lisa seemed very nice. And very hot too. She raised her chin as Lin unclipped her, the dog chain disappearing back into Lin’s coat pocket.
Tick-tock.
Is Lisa a slave? She must be, thought Ceri. She looked at the walls more closely. It looked a little like bodies moving in the patterns, moving against one another, arching in ecstasy. She tilted her head slightly, blinking to see if that helped make sense of the curves.
Tick-tock.
Must be great having a slave like Lisa, thought Ceri. Her hand drifted across her stomach, she could see Lin standing next to her in the mirror. Lin’s head tilted slightly to the side too. She must be trying to follow the patterns as well.
Tick-tock.
She could see the bodies more clearly now, women kneeling down, their heads tilted back as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Ceri felt so relaxed, the gentle tick-tocking of the clock matched her breathing, making it even easier to see the fantasies that the velvet walls promised to fulfill. Her fingers brushed lightly against her crotch.
Tick-tock.
Kneeling down in submission. So relaxing to do, mmm, yes, she could see what the velvet said now. Just kneel down and relax and wait, just like Maid Lisa said. Ceri imagined Lisa coming to this house. Being asked to relax and wait before these walls. Being found kneeling by Mistress. Being dressed in her maid’s uniform. Serving Mistress. Her fingers lifted the hem of her pink ultra-mini, her pussy flushed with desire. Oh, yes, how delicious to serve Mistress. Ceri’s knees wobbled.
Tick-
“Clockwork subliminals,” muttered Lin. She pulled her glove back out of the clock’s mechanism and closed the glass door to the clockcase. “She’s old school.” She raised an eyebrow at Ceri. “Modesty, please Ceri.”
Ceri gaped. Cheeks burning, her hands reacted. “Yipe!” She pulled her hem back down. “She tried to mind control us!”
Lin nodded, “Of course, it would be rude not too. Plus if we can’t get past the hallway . . . . Think of it as a little test of quality. Sorting the wheat from the chaff.”
“I almost-. I started to-.”
“Um-hum. You’re a slave, Ceri, it’s to be expected. You’re only going to come out of something like that if I’ve primed you against it.”
Ceri looked at the floor, carefully avoiding the walls. Such interesting diamond patterns, drawing the eye, daring it to . . . . She stared at her palms instead.
“Oh, geez!” Maid Lisa’s voice re-appeared at the top of the stairs. Lisa bit her lip, looking down at Lin and Ceri looking up at her.
“Some trouble with the hallway clock’s mechanism,” said Lin. “I tried to fix it, but I’m afraid it’s stuck.”
Maid Lisa scampered down to the hallway floor, breasts straining to break free. “Mistress is coming right now!” She pulled the glass door of the clock open and tried fiddling with the little wheels inside.
“Madame Lin! What a delight to meet you at last, dah’ling!” The voice sounded English. Posh.
A handsome woman with an enormous red beehive, shiny silver horn-rim glasses, pearls and an elegant red evening dress swept down the stairs. She wore light purple evening gloves that rose above her elbows. An enormous diamond sparkled on the middle finger of her left hand.
“Madame Stephanie, the pleasure is all mine.”
Lin leaned forward to receive Madame Stephanie’s air-kisses.
“Mwah! Mwah! Dah’ling, your colleague arrived here only a short time ago and is waiting in the garden.” Stephanie’s eyes narrowed behind her silver horn-rims. “Have you ever seen her work? It’s fantastic. Living statues in shapes you wouldn’t believe! I’d almost be tempted to volunteer myself!”
“So I’ve heard. Can’t say that’s my thing normally, although I am very interested in acquiring this particular one. I’m so grateful you could arrange this meeting.”
“Of course, dah’ling!” Stephanie’s right hand twirled, fingers wriggling dismissively. “That’s what I’m here for - how else would our little . . . community . . . ever get along together without a place to meet?” She turned. Chirruped, “Follow me!” Paused a moment. Her voice boomed, accent shifting vertiginously, “Bloomin’ ada, Lisa! Leave t’bloody clock alone. Go put some tea on, luv.”
“Oh, geez!” said Lisa, and slid off down the corridor in a blur of jiggling cleavage, round thighs and shiny buttocks.
“One of these days,” sighed Stephanie, “I’m going to get her to stop saying that all the time.”
Lin and Ceri followed her through several winding corridors before reaching a plain blue door at the back of the house.
“Welcome to the garden, dah’ling,” said Madame Stephanie, opening the door. She grinned, “Enter at your own risk.”
Ceri shut her eyes, inhaling the heady scent of roses that drifted beneath the overhanging tree branches. A few patches of sky could be seen in between the canopy of pink blossoms over head. Far off the sounds of the city faintly intruded, a car honking, a truck rumbling, but otherwise the garden appeared completely cut off from the outside world.
Gloved fingers snapped in front of Ceri’s face. “Do not stop to smell the roses, slave.” Lin rolled her eyes a little, but gave a gentle smile.
“Yes, Mistress,” said Ceri. She flushed a light red. “Got it.”
A path made from immaculately clean white paving stones wove deeper into the garden, the end of the path obscured by the overgrown roses and tree trunks. Lin lead Ceri along it.
Mallory sat on a wrought iron bench, white paint peeling from its arms and legs, in a little circular grass clearing at the end of the path. She had on reflective sunglasses, a black tee and jeans, with her raven-hair tied in a high ponytail. Ceri’s stomach tightened. She could feel her blood suddenly pulsing hot; a giddy high rushing through her veins, like a schoolgirl meeting her secret lesbian date. She bit her lip, trying to remember all the reasons she should be furious.
Then she saw the naked slave kneeling by Mallory’s black boots.
Tattoos of flowers and thorns ran along the slave’s sides, tightly coiling vines and snakes over her arms, wicked creatures and tentacles slithered between her thighs. The slave had her hands behind her, placed flat to cup her ass, so that her back arched, emphasizing her big breasts. A delicate silver chain swung between the slave’s pierced pink nipples, moving in time with the slave’s heavy breathing. The slave’s blonde bob appeared weirdly innocent, a shocking, girlish contrast to the rest of her lewd display. Big blue eyes stared mindlessly into space, mouth open, panting, a line of drool dripping from the corner of the slave’s mouth to spool on the slope of her left breast. Between the slave’s parted thighs rings glinted, piercing the lips of her dripping sex.
Ceri heard somebody say, “Wendy.” Then the outer fringe of Ceri’s sight turned red. She saw herself reaching through Mallory’s ribcage and pulling out the witch’s heart.
“Thirty-two, engage fembot status green-alpha.”
“Yes, Mistress,” said Thirty-two. She could feel her intense hatred of the raven-haired woman sitting on the bench seething beneath the surface of Mistress’s control. The corners of the woman’s mouth twitched in a way that made Thirty-two think murderous thoughts, but in absence of Mistress’s order, Thirty-two would not act on them. She hoped Mistress would give the order.
“Madame Lin,” said Mallory. “And Ceri. How very pleasant to meet you both here. You again, of course, Ceri. You’ve obviously had some changes since I last saw you.”
“We’re very pleased to be here,” said Lin. “But this is not Ceri, this is slave Thirty-two.”
“Ah,” said Mallory. She lounged back on the bench. “My mistake. She reminded me of a girl I once knew called Ceri, but that girl would never have worn those heels or that skirt.”
Thirty-two wondered what the evil bitch would look like after a swift roundhouse kick to the head. Some part of Thirty-two wondered when she’d ever learned to kick like that, a girly-girl like her. A memory of working out in a sweaty gym, kicking bags long ago, opened and then swiftly faded in her mind.
“Perfectly understandable error. I’m sure we’ve all done it,” said Lin. Lin moved to the other side of the little clearing, perching on the edge of a battered wicker chair half-buried in leaves, crossing her legs. She pointed at a spot on the grass by her side, “Thirty-two.”
Thirty-two stared at the blonde slave kneeling only a few feet away. A wave of warmth for the other slave flooded through her, she wanted to wrap the blonde in her arms, but Mistress had indicated that she should kneel, so Thirty-two knelt in the grass.
“I understand you’d like to buy my sculpture?” Mallory’s mouth curled. “I’m afraid it’s an on-going work, but will be available for auction in the very near future, I expect bidding to be highly competitive.”
“She . . . ,” said Lin. She laid a hand on the back of Thirty-two’s neck, a gloved finger stroking there.
“It.”
Lin flashed her teeth, nodding, “My mistake! It’s very primal. So this is the, uh, final pose?”
“Oh, no!” Mallory shook her head, she raised her hands, elbows still resting on the back of the bench, and wagged her index fingers. “I don’t do early reveals. This is an arranged pose solely for this meeting.”
“So sh -- it’s mobile then? Follows orders?”
“It’ll always follow basic commands once completed, for transport purposes, but it won’t have any functionality beyond the finished form.”
Lin pursed her lips, “Very sensible. How much personal consciousness left?”
“None.”
Spiny cold fingers scraped down Thirty-two’s spine. A vision of the blonde laughing popped in the front of her mind. Mistress’s hand squeezed the back of her neck gently. The vision faded.
“So,” said Lin. Her brow furrowed beneath her beret. “It’s an empty shell.”
“Not yet. But it will be. You needn’t be concerned about any unexpected . . . signs of life.”
Frowning, Lin leant forward in her chair, she steepled her gloved fingers in front of her chest. “I’d like to acquire her now.”
Thirty-two stiffened, her heart thudded in her chest, watching the witch sit up, no longer smiling.
“It’s not for sale now. It will be at auction. My understanding is that you’re an interested purchaser of wealth and taste, Madame Lin. I agreed to meet you on that basis. If that is not the case this meeting is at an end.”
“I don’t believe I mentioned anything about purchasing,” said Lin. Her eyes swirled black with shadow, her voice low, filled with tendrils of smoke that licked through the air. Thirty-two moaned softly in helpless reflex arousal.
Mallory’s lips bared, a cloud passed across the sky, the glade turned dark, “And what are you proposing then? A duel?”
“No, an offer,” said Lin. She rested her hand back on Thirty-two’s neck, stroking.
“Ceri for Wendy.”
Mallory’s lower jaw tightened. She rose.
“I do not appreciate this waste of my time, Madame Lin. In fact, I suggest in fut-”
“Have you ever had a volunteer before?” Lin’s left eyebrow rose ever so slightly. She folded her hands together, elbows resting on the arms of the chair.
Mallory bit her upper lip, a line on her forehead creasing above her white reflective shades, “Is there a point to that question?”
“Ceri would be a volunteer,” said Lin. “A willing and knowing soul sacrificing herself for your art.” Her mouth flickered a little at one corner. “A unique artistic experience for you, surely?”
“Ceri now, is it? Didn’t you say it’s Thirty-two? I don’t work with soiled materials. She’s your,” Mallory’s upper lip curled, “sex slave.”
Thirty-two squirmed a little at the description. It made her pussy wet with heated agreement.
“She would not be volunteering at my command. She would be volunteering of her own free will to rescue the woman she loves.” Lin inclined her head toward Wendy, the blonde still on her knees, drooling mindlessly. “You can, of course, verify that now.”
A muscle popped high in Mallory’s cheek, her fists clenching and unclenching. The cloud blotting out the sun moved; the glade lightened again.
Lin opened her hands, palms wide, “I take it we have a possible deal then?” She glanced up at the patch of blue sky above, basking.
“If I find she is acting at your command-.”
“You won’t. She’s not. Or - ha! - not in a moment she won’t be. Thirty-two, memory green-minus-five, fembot code release red-alpha.”
Ceri blinked. Her hand jerked to her mouth, the memories of the last five minutes of conversation rushing brightly through her head, as if on a blurring film reel.
“Hello, Ceri.” Mallory’s smile made a tongue press between Ceri’s thighs, even though the thought of killing the witch still danced in her head. Mallory gestured to a spot in the grass at her feet. “Come and kneel here.”
Ceri glanced sideways at Lin. Lin looked back, still as stone, gloves folded together once more. “I can . . . think for myself, Mistr - I mean, Lin?”
Lin’s shoulders rose and fell almost imperceptibly.
“Are you able to recall the conversation I and Madame Lin just had, Ceri?” The witch stood with her hands on her hips, one leg casually bent at the knee. A slight breeze stirred the leaves, a few raven strands of her high ponytail shifted in the air.
“Yes.” Ceri nodded. She crawled across the grass to Mallory’s feet. Knelt there, looking up. A sudden sense of deja vu ran through her, a memory sliding through her mind, of crawling to kneel before another Mistress while Wendy watched. “I’ll trade myself for Wendy if you let Lin take her.”
Mallory looked up and across at Lin. “What’s your angle, Madame?”
“I like the idea of reconstructing a personality, I’m so very good at tearing them down, re-building an individual is a challenge for my talents. You will be providing me with the opportunity for a unique experience as well.”
“I don’t believe that for a moment, there’s something more. I notice you avoid saying my name, Lin. Afraid to?”
“Don’t try me with amateur hour taunts, witch. This is not my first rodeo.”
“Evidently.” Mallory looked back down at Ceri, her tongue ran around her full lips. The thought of sucking on it while it pressed into her mouth elbowed into the front of Ceri’s mind. “I have no interest in your motivations, Lin. However, Ceri’s are another matter.” She raised her right thumb to her mouth and licked its pad. “Are you volunteering of your own free will, Ceri?”
Ceri watched Mallory’s thumb descending, “Yes.” The thumb pressed just above her eyes, in the center of her forehead.
For a moment, nothing happened. She could feel the cool damp of Mallory’s saliva against her skin. And then she couldn’t think of anythingelse, just the feeling of Mallory pressing her right thumb against her skin, into her skin, through her skin. Nothingelse seemed even possible to conceive of. She heard words come through her ears and answered them.
“Are you under Lin’s command at this moment, Ceri?”
“No.”
“Did she give you any commands that will surface after you have been left with me?”
“No.”
“Are you going to attempt to attack me?”
“No.”
“Why sacrifice yourself for Wendy?”
“I love her.”
“Do you understand what I’m going to do to you?”
“Yes.”
Ceri gasped at the sudden withdrawal of Mallory’s touch. Her legs and arms shook, stomach flipping. She needed it. She needed Mallory’s touch again. More than anything. More than life. She fell forward, hands palm down in the grass, her shoulder brushing Mallory’s jeans, but it didn’t quench the awful desire for oblivion that pulsed between her thighs.
She grit her teeth, “What did you-nnn nuh-uh.” Concentrate. Fight it. Fight her. “Do-uh tooo me, youuu evil fuck-ck-ck-ing witch?”
“Sold,” said Mallory.
“Excellent,” said Lin. “Release Wendy to me then.”
Ceri heard a voice whispering in the trees and the roses, it sounded like Mallory’s, but that didn’t seem possible. She sank against Mallory’s feet, the need burrowing through her body making her weak.
“She’s all yours, Madame Lin. Simple commands though, and she’s not much of a conversationalist any more.”
“Splendid! Wouldn’t have it any other way! Follow me, Wendy.”
Ceri twisted her head in the dirt enough to see Wendy blankly rising. Lin standing, waiting by the wicker chair. Lin glanced down at Ceri.
Ceri whispered. “Mistress.”
“I’ll take good care of her, Ceri. Goodbye.”
She heard Wendy and Lin leaving along the stone path.
Mallory moved, leaving Ceri in a clump on the grass. She rolled onto her side and watched as the witch scoured the surface of the wicker chair, then the leaves and branches behind it.
“Not a damn thing,” said Mallory. She bit her lip, then shrugged. Turned back to Ceri. She pulled off her reflective shades, icy-blue eyes pinning Ceri where she lay.
“Oh, well. I have you to compensate me, don’t I, Ceri?”