Collar me Crazy Ch. 07

'It's pinned under her head!' She shouted in panic. Hurrying back, Michael threw the guard aside and pulled April's head to lift it enough to open the clasp - he'd pay her chiropractor's fee when they were out of this if she needed it. Victoria's fingers tore at the magnets, managed to rip them open, and April began to respond as she came back.

'Where...' She started.

'No time, just follow us,' Michael said. Helping her up, they stood as Victoria quickly put the collar around the second guard's neck and watched him weaken.

Turning, Michael spied a door in the back of the space. 'Out here,' he said. Then, he paused. His stripper, the other blonde, was standing in his old cubby, unmoving. Likely, she was waiting to finish her strip before returning to the back room - without her strip target, she didn't know what to do. Maybe she just had no programming that covered "my client is running away with the other captive girls." She looked dumbly at Michael, who quickly stepped forward and put his arms around her. Far from fighting, because he wasn't going for her throat, she allowed him to hold her tightly.

'Quick, undo her collar,' he said, bodily turning the small girl around and now holding her arms in his makeshift hug. Victoria pulled the clasp open, and though she struggled for a moment to fight, with her control returned she came quickly back to life.

'Don't think yet,' Michael said right into her face. 'Just come with us, we're getting out of this place.' He took her hand and ran with the women out to the back. 'Leave now,' he said to the terrified customer waiting for what she thought was a lap dance, but what would likely end up being her enslavement. 'Just get out right now.'

The group burst into the back room. Simple make-up tables stood clumped around the power points in the wall and between those clothes racks held onto all sorts of meagre apparel. 'Get all their collars off,' Michael said, running to the red head who'd stripped for them earlier, still wearing her tape.

'Don't move,' said a male voice commandingly. Standing up from a plain plastic table in the corner, a man raised a gun at Michael. 'You've caused all sorts of shit in here, but at least I know I'll make you work it all back when you're at my service.' Michael looked down and took in the laptop, phones and pile of multi-coloured collars on the table in front of him. He raised his hands slowly, and the man tapped one of the phone screens, not lowering his weapon.

'Vanessa,' the man said. 'Subdue the man standing to your-' But as he spoke, he was interrupted by the sudden outburst from the group of women with Michael. He was caught by surprise - clearly, he had thought that Michael was some sort of competitor or something, only here to replace the club's collars with his own or just to pick his favourite chick to take home - he hadn't expected anything from the three variously dressed girls. So he was shocked when one of them burst forwards, screaming and catching the table with her upturned hands, throwing it up and around. The laptop tipped off the desk, the phones fell, and the table pushed him backwards. The gun went off, deafening in the tiny space before he was pushed into the wall, cracking his head. He slumped suddenly and collapsed to his side, collars falling in front of him as the table came to rest.

For a few moments, no one moved, everyone in the room half crouched down, holding their ears. Michael spun, terrified someone had been shot - and to his relief, saw the shattered mirror in front of an empty make up table. A small section of wall was visible where the bullet had gone through both the glass and the thin frame behind it. Looking down, he saw a few red hairs floating through the air, coming to a rest on the cowering red head's shoulder and body. Evidently, the bullet had sliced a couple of them clear through.

'Come on,' he gestured, his voice sounding nearly silent below his ringing, tight ears. Staggering forwards, the group quickly uncollared the remaining women where they cowered, calming them and ushering them out of the place. The group of now eight women and one man stumbled and padded through the back rooms, finding themselves in a warehouse space where the performers' original clothes had been dumped on another table, waiting no doubt to be recollected when they were done with their services. The girls collected whatever they could find of their own and dressed quickly.

'Tell me,' Michael said, after giving them all the 25-word-or-less rundown of what was happening. 'Do you all own control collars?' Sheepishly, they all either nodded or averted their eyes in acknowledgement, still shaken up by what was happening. Only a couple didn't respond, frowning in confusion. Michael explained as the women put their parts away for the first time in some time. 'I don't know how, but these guys have kidnapped you to work here under the control of their own collars - I assume they know where yours were shipped to or something. They break in, put a new collar on you and you walked right out with them. That's what happened to April-' he gestured to his friend, '-and that's why we're here.' He looked about as they finished dressing. 'We're going to have to go quickly, I'm sure there are more people coming to stop us. Does anyone have any money?'

A couple of the women fished under their clothing, withdrawing cash they had stripped for earlier that evening. 'Good. Use it to get a taxi home - we can take maybe two passengers but we only have one car. We have a phone in there we can lend you to call someone, or to find your way, and we won't leave you alone here - we'll find somewhere public nearby wait. We aren't too far out of the city, I think this is somewhere north, but we need to move now before anyone else-'

As he said it, the door back into the strip club burst open. 'Hey!' someone shouted.

'This way!' Michael said. The nine set off through the warehouse space and they found what he had prayed was the back door; it was actually a fire exit, which was why it had a handle on this side and was locked from the outside. He threw it open and rushed the girls through it as their pursuer sprinted after them. Moments before he shot into the corridor himself, the attacker caught up with Michael as more men poured into the warehouse, alerted to follow behind the first. Michael kicked out and the man stayed clear, both men raising their fists. He kept backing up, fending off the other man.

'Michael!' he heard Victoria shout. The girls were emerging outside, and she was holding the door for him. Feinting a punch, Michael swung low, put a fist into the man's chest, ducked a return and threw a swing. He caught the man awkwardly about the chin and bolted. It didn't do much but it was enough to put some steps between them, and he careened headlong through the fire escape and out into the world outside. When he caught up and threw the fire escape open to follow, the man was just in time to catch the fist that came flying in, courtesy of one of the larger now-ex-strippers. He fell backwards and the door swung closed. Though it was far from a perfect escape, they were out.

'C'mon,' Michael panted, resuming the lead towards their car.

If anyone had been worried they might be followed, there was obviously something they didn't know - perhaps the nearby businesses had night cameras, maybe without someone manning the control phones there was no one to help contain the escape, or perhaps they had just realised how many women were gone and knew they couldn't catch them with their limited manpower. Either way, the party were left alone as they moved to Victoria and Michael's car and took turns to use their phone. A few of the women called for friends, many more, taxis. Where the women didn't have cash, those that did lent some, and Michael doled out whatever they had in the car. As they waited, the group filled them in on everything, Michael and Victoria telling April about how she had been taken - many of the women nodding and gasping as they remembered glimpses of similar occurrences, only two white women and a black girl talking softly as they learned what had happened. Slowly, their group started to thin out as taxis came and went. Each girl thanked Michael, Victoria and April with hugs and timid words, creeped out and in shock but finally, thankfully safe. The group of three were last ones to go.

'We thought we had heard something,' the black girl said. She was curvy and cute, and told them of how they were a share house. 'By the time I woke up and realised there were sounds in the house, there was a man putting a collar around her neck,' she said, indicating the red headed woman beside her, who smiled painedly. 'I thought I would surprise them, hit him or kick him when he came over to me, but he was so quick and I didn't think he would try to hold me down. He jumped on me and held me under him, and then I felt him sliding it around my neck, and... Nothing. Then this,' she said, shivering.

'I didn't even know these were a thing,' the red head said - who turned out to be Vanessa, the same woman who had been sitting beside Michael in the make-up room. 'It must have been Cherise, or maybe James who had bought one.'

'And how they knew it was our room I'll never know,' the black woman added. 'We were on the sixth level.' They conversated some more, sharing their stories and huddling in the cold.

A group taxi came shortly later, and the two sets of three parted ways. 'Thank you,' they said. 'We're free because of you guys.' Michael, Victoria and April - though she felt she could hardly accept any credit - nodded, waved, and watched them go on their way.

When the taxi had turned the corner, April, Mike and Victoria got back into Vicky's car.

'Jesus, what a night,' Victoria said. Mike nodded, slouching in his chair.

'Let's go home,' he said, spent and drained.

'There's just one thing I want to do first,' April said. 'Can you pull around the block?'

Ten minutes later, Mike pulled away from the curb and turned out of the hook-end road that lead to the strip club as the flashing lights and sirens grew brighter and louder. They shot up the road and watched in their mirrors as the police cars flew into the car park, primed to raid the place after an anonymous report of trafficking, laundering and abuse had been phoned in shortly before. 'Are your contacts saved in your phone?' April asked Victoria, who nodded. April proceeded to snap her sim card and throw it out the window as they drove, leaving the scene to the professionals. The report of trafficking would elevate this to a high-risk scenario, and the mention of drug use would hopefully excuse the women's servitude. With any luck, they'd never know the full story of the collars - though they'd probably all be privately breached as their case made it's way through the police department, they were eventually freed, and the men running the place convicted.

A few days later, the news reported of a raid resulting in the arrest of six men on sex trafficking charges, including illegal trade and unsafe work environments. The club was suspended, and all workers sent home. No word of collars or gangs was ever mentioned. Lounging on April's couch in loose shirts and track pants, Mike, Vicky and April watched the report in full.

'So they were doing it based on shipping locations,' Victoria said to no one.

'All those women probably had theirs sent to their house,' April said. 'Like me.' She shuddered. 'Which means the people selling them are giving out those addresses to people like that. I wouldn't be surprised if they have a discount code to buy them in bulk as a reward for paying tons for those address lists. Hell, maybe the people running these clubs are the ones selling the fucking things.'

'And they could do anything with them,' Michael said. 'Sex, brothels, nightclubs, worse - I guess it's lucky that was just a strip club.' For a while, no one spoke. The sports came on, and April groaned at the report.

'Well that's just ruined a peachy week!' she said, turning the screen off after the report. 'Bayminger was my number one for trade.' Mike snorted, and April grinned - the humour was a nice sign of solidarity. In truth, April was extremely glad for the company after what had happened. She was shaken.

'You know...' She said, turning to her young friends and cocking her leg over the other. 'On account of a girl's safety and all, I'm newly in the market for a new place to crash, and you know, since you do owe me for one bad-ass collar and all...' She looked questioningly at the pair, who looked back at each other. 'I'm not serious of course, you guys have gone way, way above what I could expect. You saved my stupid ass. But I do need to leave... I'll never be safe here again now that kidnappers know I'm waiting to be, well, kidnapped.'

The pair glanced at each other again, then turned to her for a long moment. Slowly, their faced broke out into grins.

'No surprise collaring,' Mike said, pointing in mock seriousness.

'And no men I don't approve of,' Victoria added.

'And no late rent!' Michael said.

'And no stains! It's a rental, we get inspected!' Victoria fourthed. April held up her palms, laughing.

'What about women you don't approve of?' she asked wryly. Victoria pointed again, her poker face showing her amusement. 'ESPECIALLY those!'

And so it was settled. In the coming days, the group packed up April's things and she moved out. The apartment was smaller but closer to town, and far from feeling cramped among her new faux-family, April relished the company. She got a job at a café around the corner and started bringing home left-overs. After some time had passed, the collar even returned to the fray, and was soon a regular part of their escapades. April joined in the rotation, and enjoyed the placid fog that accompanied her every three days, generally also joined by multiple satisfying orgasms and some damn good sex. And that wasn't counting the days she wasn't wearing it.

All in all, life went back to being good.

And April had found her peace.

A box arrived on the doorstep of April's old home a few days later. It went unclaimed; a few passers-by spied it, but it was small, light and unimportant. Eventually, a neighbour's dog, at that moment being chased up the street by her desperate owners, found it and scooped it up. She was caught shortly after, and when they saw the teeth holes through the cardboard, they were furious. They opened the package to see if they should buy whoever owned it a replacement, and were amazed to discover what they thought was a dog's collar inside. After trying the house multiple times and eventually noting the missing furniture through the windows, they decided fate had brought their wayward puppy to the home for the sake of finding that collar, and so it became hers. The collar went around the dog's neck, where it's finely-tuned generators had no luck on the vastly different wearer, barely able to penetrate her fur. Months later, it's battery died without recharging, and it became the most expensive, dangerous, and useless mind control collar in the world.

THE E[ROTIC?]ND