Hollow Pleasure Ch. 05

*** Disclaimer ***

The following installment contains themes of hypnosis, mind control, non-consent, exhibitionism, cheating, and elements of incest, BDSM, and gang rape. You've been warned.

This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Hollow Pleasure chapter 05

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1st Floor Hallway

Robert Bradford was feeling particularly satisfied as he emerged from apartment 1B. The thrill of wild sex still so fresh in his mind, that he almost ran headlong into a young man in the entryway. A stranger in his mid twenties, well dressed, and painfully good looking with tall, dark, and handsome traits.

"I'm Paul," he said. His face, apologetic and sincere. There was an earnestness about him. "I'm just looking for my girlfriend. She usually calls me every night, but it's been almost a week."

"Who's your girlfriend?" Rob asked.

"Kelsey Parker."

Suddenly all of the pleasant post-sex euphoria disappeared. Rob hadn't had the first clue that Kelsey was in a relationship. Even though, as of late, Kelsey had become his personal plaything, he couldn't help feeling discouraged and saddened by this news. Of course Kelsey had a boyfriend. She was too cute, sexy, and sweet not to. Even though Kelsey was now fucking Rob regularly, it felt all the more empty and hollow when confronted with this stranger in the hallway. Kelsey wasn't doing it of her free will. She was only fucking Rob because (for reasons that Rob couldn't comprehend), every fantasy, idea, or notion that he put to paper just happened. No matter how vague, any story that he wrote lately would take place the moment he finished typing it out. Naturally, he'd used this new gift to control his tenants for sexual favors, and it had been amazing. Especially with Kelsey, who was everything a lonely hermit like Rob wanted in a woman. But she was never really his. Her affections and sexual acts were all part of some supernatural mind control. Her mind, her soul, and her desires belonged to this man here. This man was a symbol of Kelsey's free will, and it broke Rob's heart, in a way.

"Maybe you know her? She lives in 3B," Paul said. His brow pinched together. He was worried.

"Umm... I know her. I mean, I've seen her in passing," Rob stammered. "She lives across the hall from me." He blurted it out and immediately regretted it. Too much information. He'd given out too much information. He figured it would only be a matter of time before outsiders began to investigate the odd new behavior of his neighbors, but he scolded himself for not being better prepared. He was folding already.

"Have you seen her recently?" Paul asked. "I tried knocking on door, but she wasn't answering. It didn't seem like anyone is home."

Of course Kelsey wouldn't answer. Right now she was across the hall in Rob's apartment, waiting for him to come home like a good pet. "Umm, maybe a couple of days ago," Rob was rubbing the back of his head feigning trying to remember.

"I was hoping to catch her before work."

"You know, she said something to me about changing up her work schedule," Rob lied, trying to keep things vague. "She seemed a bit out of it. Maybe she's just having trouble adjusting. You how it is when you go from a night shift to a day shift?"

Paul thought for a second. "That's odd, that she wouldn't tell me something like that."

Rob just shrugged "Maybe she wanted it to be a surprise?" Paul didn't looked convinced. But if he was suspicious or not, Rob couldn't tell.

"I'll just hang around and wait for her. Do you have the landlord's number? Maybe I can have him unlock her apartment."

Rob thought quickly. "Umm... actually I may have a spare key that she gave me... you know... in case she ever locked herself out." Once again, as he said it, he berated himself for blurting.

"That would be great, thanks," Paul said.

Rob resisted the impulse to scream obscenities out loud, and smack himself on the head. What the hell was he thinking? He needed a plan, and quickly...

***

2B

Kate Galloway was exhausted.

She was horribly fatigued from all of the physical rigors of training. Every muscle ached. Her lower back was sore to the point where she could barely stand up straight, and her shins were hurting something fierce- she obviously hadn't stretched well enough after the last four mile run.

Not only that, but after her poor night's sleep, whenever she sat too long, her vision began to space out, her eyelids began to drop and she could think about nothing other than closing her eyes.

But there were too many things to do at home. That was the worst- mentally exhausted by the problems that were piling up, she began to feel more from being home that at work. At work there was only the task at hand to focus on- living in the moment. But as soon as she got home, there were a hundred things she wanted to do, and a dozen that she had to do. She literally felt like the moment she walked in the front door, she was hitting the ground running.

The rifle needed cleaning and she continued to push it off for another day (knowing full well that she shouldn't). She needed to pick up her mail from the post office. She needed to contact her cell phone company because they were giving her shit about the change of billing address. Not to mention the dishes were stacking up in the sink and she was out of clean socks (among other articles of clothing).

She concluded that laundry was the priority. She wasn't willing to put her feet back into yet another pair of crusty used socks. She gathered up everything that was dirty, intending to just do it all in one massive load. The hell with separating the whites or the dainties.

"The word of the day, kiddies, is 'Laundry'," she muttered out loud to herself in a silly voice that was dry and tired. "Can you say 'laundry'? Laundry!" She repeated it in a high pitched voice meant to imitate a child. "Very good, boys and girls. And can you tell us why laundry is so important?" The plastic basket was overflowing with dirty clothes. She grunted with the effort to heft it. "Laundry is important because Officer Galloway smells like a foot."

Despite her exhaustion, she giggled to herself as she balanced the basket on her knee while she freed up her hand to pull open the front door. By the time she got the door open, she was nearly in hysterics and the basket was threatening to spill all over the place.

By some stroke of luck she managed to not tip it over as she stepped out into the hallway. She almost tripped over Ethan, and went toppling down the stairs. He was sitting on the landing going up to the third floor, his nose in his book.

"Hello there, Ethan. We really have to stop meeting like this." She smiled at him. "Don't tell me you locked yourself out again, just to score another free dinner."

His eyes grew big, his cheeks reddened, and his gaze darted away from hers after only a moment. He was an interesting one, that was for sure.

"Oh... hi Kate... I mean Galloway... or I mean is it okay if I call you Gall-"

"Ohhhh Ethan, we've already established our dynamic. I'll be 'Machine Gun' Galloway and you'll be 'The Kid'."

Ethan looked at her as if she'd gone crazy.

"I'm sorry... I'm too tired to pretend to be normal tonight," she admitted. Then she added as an afterthought, "You got a problem with that, kid?"

He laughed and shook his head quickly. "You get weird when you're tired?"

"I'm weird all the time. I just run out of the energy to hide it. What are you up to?" she asked. "Enjoying the creepy ambience of the hallway sconces?"

"Oh, umm... something like that," he avoided the question. His mom and taken the day off, and she was acting... weird. "What about you?" He eyed the pile of clothing overflowing her basket.

"Me? I'm just on my way to tossing everything I own on the front lawn and setting it on fire."

He looked unsure of what to say.

"I'm kidding. Need to catch up on my laundry... rather desperately."

Ethan suddenly looked alarmed.

"Downstairs?"

"Unless you know a secret washing machine closer to my door?"

Ethan quickly put his book down. "I'll come with you," he said immediately and collected his crutches.

"Oh no, is there some secret I'm not supposed to see? Is that where you're hiding the bodies of your victims?"

Ethan reddened. "No. It's just... it's kind of creepy down there and I don't want you to go alone, that's all." He blushed as he said it. It sounded stupid and cheesy— like he was trying too hard to be some chivalrous knight. Wobbling in his crutches, he certainly didn't feel brave or strong. He was hoping she didn't take it that way. Kate Galloway was probably the coolest person he'd ever met, and the first person who treated him like an equal— and not like he was just a pair of crutches.

But there was another reason. Ethan kind of wanted to avoid his apartment today. His mom seemed... different. He couldn't quite place it, but it was making him a little uncomfortable.

His mom had called off today, insisting she needed to take a "mental health" day. That was fine, but she had come up with the idea of having a "pajama day". Ethan had startled when he saw his mother's pajamas. She was wearing a long sweater, a pair of gray and black wool socks that came up to mid thigh, and literally nothing else. The socks, she'd purchased last Halloween were very Tim Burton-ish. But the few times she wore them was with leggings. Today there was nothing but smooth bare thigh peeking above her socks. And with her small size, her sweater was basically a short dress that barely covered her curvy ass. Furthermore, it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts jiggled free and full beneath her sweater. Her nipples pressed through the fabric.

Ethan felt weird seeing her like that. And even weirder when she kept standing on her tip toes to reach the bowls in the top shelf, when there were ones within much more easy reach on the lower ones. Ethan had always thought his mother was an exceptionally pretty woman. She had a youthful energy about her that made her perky and full of life. Her hair was bouncy and fun. Her eyes squinted when she smiled. Once for Christmas when he was little, she had dawned a pair of pointy ears and a Santa hat with jingle bells on it, and looked *exactly* like a cute little elf. Ethan had never really noticed her body (or had given it much thought) before now.

But today, her "pajama outfit" displayed her in ways that he hadn't noticed before. He was aware of her breasts, and how perky they were, how round, and how much bounce there was. Her nipples seemed to point right at him. But as she reached very high into the cabinets, grunting softly with the effort, her sweater had ridden up. His mother's ass was plump and perky. She was slightly bigger around the hips, and the tops of her thighs (what those long socks revealed) were smooth and creamy, coming together tightly. Her panties were bright blue, and didn't cover her ass cheeks fully. He could see the perfect curve of her butt as it met her thighs...

When Ethan had caught himself looking at her in that moment, he felt a weird inappropriate stirring... That was when he decided it best to take his reading to the hallway.

He'd been avoiding the situation ever since.

Galloway's voice stole him back to reality. "I appreciate it, but I'm a big girl. I think I can manage."

"Well at least let me hold the door for you and get the lights," Ethan insisted.

"Don't want to see my clumsy ass face-plant at the bottom of the stairs?" Galloway asked.

For once, Ethan returned her smirk. "The opposite. I don't want to miss that."

"You're a dick," she laughed, and smacked him lightly with the back of her hand.

As they started down the stairs, Robert Bradford came barreling up, looking even more pale and nervous than usual. He paused long enough to give both Galloway and Ethan a glance, almost like he was digesting what they were up to. Then he brushed past them, with barely a grunt. Trailing behind him was a well groomed worried looking man with a handsome face— all the trappings of an Ivy League graduate written on him.

"Speaking of face-plant," Galloway said quietly with a shrug.

"He's weird," Ethan let his voice drop to a whisper.

"You don't know the half of it, junior," Galloway drawled out. "Oh, by the way, thank you for the note you left on my door. That really made my day!"

Ethan blushed again. "Really? Oh, it was nothing."

"Well that was a really sweet thing to do. Not many people are that thoughtful."

He shrugged, and she kind of enjoyed the way his face reddened. The kid needed to work on his confidence.

Ethan took the basement stairs carefully on his crutches. Galloway shook her head, looking around the dungeon-like rooms. "Nice to see the landlord really busting his ass to make this place welcoming."

She dropped her basket off. Although Galloway had seen the cellar before, the two of them couldn't resist having a look around.

The room with the washing machines was brightly lit, with a table in the center. There were droplets and smudges on the surface, and Galloway tentatively touched some of the dried white splotches, immediately dismissing it as the remnants of spilled detergent.

A maze of rooms were situated around the laundry area— boilers and furnaces. A jungle of vents and ductwork ran in all directions. A room filled with nothing but water heaters. There was the room full of tenant storage cages.

Galloway glanced into the one for Ethan's apartment. "Does mom still keep your baby clothes?"

"Shut up," Ethan smiled and blushed.

"She does, doesn't she!" Galloway teased.

"More like my first wheel chair and crutches. Maybe she'll have them bronzed," he rolled his eyes.

"Aww, how cute! Like Tiny Tim."

"You are the worst," Ethan remarked, but he wasn't offended. His comment only made Galloway roar with laughter. He rather liked it when she laughed. "What's in your locker? Old Barbie dolls and stuffed animals, I'll bet."

"Try broken hearts, and empty whiskey bottles, smart ass," she fired back.

Past the cages, they spotted a small door in a dark corner of the basement. A set of stairs had been carved into the floor, leading down to a door that was low and wood, plain. Not exactly ominous or medieval looking, but in a basement like this, it was downright creepy.

Galloway eased the door open and stooped to peer inside. The stairs led further down into darkness, finally dead ending in a tiny square room with dirt walls and floor. The air inside was chilly and damp.

"It's a root cellar," Galloway explained.

Ethan shrugged. He'd heard the term but didn't know what it meant.

"Old houses sometimes have them. Before the days of refrigerators, they had to get creative with how to preserve food. And because it's cold underground, it was a pretty clever way of doing it."

"It's creepy. It looks like a prison cell."

"I'll give you ten bucks if you spend the night down here."

"No way! Keep your money!" Ethan replied.

They started back to the washing machine area. It was definitely the least threatening of the different basement areas. But that didn't mean much.

"See what I mean?" Ethan asked. "Creepy, right?"

Galloway shrugged. "Interesting is more like it. They don't make them like this anymore."

A voice suddenly echoed through the basement. Something deep and guttural. It was a man, but barely a man. It resonated and echoed, rattling their teeth. "Gaaaallowayyyyy."

They froze in their tracks.

Ethan glanced at Galloway and was even more alarmed by how big her eyes had grown.

"Galloway?" Ethan asked her. His voice made her jump.

"Jones?" she muttered. Her gaze was distant, haunted. She looked mortified.

"Galloway?" he asked again, and suddenly she snapped out of it.

"Nobody came down here?" Galloway asked.

Ethan shook his head.

Suddenly there was a new sound. A kind of raspy feminine laughter like a witch's cackle. Then the sound of something falling over and crashing, though whatever it had been was beyond their comprehension.

Ethan looked at Galloway and before he could react, she was reaching to her ankle and fishing a snub nosed Smith and Wesson from an ankle holster under the leg of her jeans. She seemed to have pulled the weapon out of nowhere.

"Stay behind me," she urged him as she pointed her gun around the room.

He kept close, so that she could feel him behind her as they shuffled through the basement. Room by room. The little enclosed spaces all blended together, disorienting them. They circled the basement, but each space was empty and devoid of life.

They found nothing. They returned to the laundry area, no less confused. Galloway tucked her gun back into the leg of her jeans. "That was weird," she commented.

"What was that? Why did it know your name?"

Galloway shook her head. "Officer Jones. It's a long story. But he was a bad man and he's dead now. I'm not sure why we just heard his voice." Her mind wandered to that weird dream from the other night... the memories from the casino, the sexual attack, and the way that she had been turned on. It was too coincidental. She shrugged it off and started her laundry.

"How the hell are you so calm about this?" Ethan cocked his head, shocked by her indifference.

"It's an old building. There's a cemetery nearby. I figured this place might have a few ghosts in it. Let's stop thinking about it. There's enough things to stress us out without adding a creepy old attention-whore like a ghost to our list."

She tossed as many of her clothes as she could stuff into the washing machine. It was tight but she made it work.

Ethan hung around. "Need any help with that?"

Galloway paused and cocked her eyebrow. "You want to help with my dirty underwear? Do you feel good about that, you perv?"

Ethan blushed. "No, I-I didn't mean like that. I was only just offering to be helpful."

"Uh huh, I'll bet you were." She smirked.

After a pause, they both burst out laughing.

***

1A

Danni Esposito was feeling oddly alone in her apartment lately. She wasn't sure how that was possible, considering she lived in close proximity to two other girls— one of whom was her best friend. Yet both of her roommates seemed to be emotionally withdrawn and their behavior was only growing more... unusual.

Lucy had seemed like a bashful, meek, timid girl. Yet almost overnight, Lucy had transformed. She was dressing... well... like a slut. Her clothing barely contained her massive breasts, and her pants were either skin tight, or dangerously short. Lucy wasn't exactly a heavy girl, but she was full, and the way her body spilled from her outfits was somewhat... obscene. The clothes that she owned that weren't outright revealing, she had altered to be that way— cutting the legs off her pants until they were short shorts, or hemming her shirts so high that they showed her belly... and sometimes the bottoms of her breasts. There was a lot of cleavage and a lot of skin. Danni wouldn't expect a shy nerd to suddenly begin dressing like a dancer in a rap video or something.

Even more shocking was Tina's behavior. Tina had always been aware of her body, but she carried herself with high degree of esteem and self respect. The way she was suddenly dressing lately, even Tina herself would describe as trashy. Skin tight spandex, sports bras only, or tank tops that were far too tight and skimpy. It was all too much. And her grades were beginning to slip. Something that Tina would have been mortified by! She hadn't studied for her last two exams, and hadn't bothered at all with homework. She seemed to have lost a lot of purpose— spending her time slutting up her outfits, and otherwise waiting... like she expecting someone to stop by at any time.