Stories of Strange Queens

Quickly checking the bottle and considering for a few moments, Chelsea breathed a sigh of relief as she remembered what the nondescript code on the label stood for in Roberts' organisational system, reassured that it was a harmless and well-tested drug of the doctor's design. The girls had initially locked all of the mad womaniser's chemical creations up, not willing to allow any potential mental slip on the part of either the late Roberts or the present Chelsea put their friends at risk. However, after having discussed it and even testing a few out on Jordan, they had agreed to put some of the thoroughly tested and documented ones out for their friends to indulge in once they'd ensured their safety.

This was one such drug, and one Chelsea herself had used before - it was a hyper-concentrated, rapid-absorption hormonal aerosol designed to deliver a powerful and instantaneous orgasm immediately after spraying. Absorbed through the skin, but more effective if inhaled or sprayed into thin, frequently lubricated areas with high blood flow, like the eyes, mouth or genitals, it introduced a large amount of the specific hormone linked to arousal and orgasm directly to the brain and blood, accelerating the process up to tens of times faster than with even strong regular arousal. Its only danger was people whose sexual organs required large amounts of blood - mostly in men, but also some women.

Such a rapid hardening of the penis or ejaculation could in some cases cause light-headedness or fainting, something that Chelsea herself had used against the extremely well-endowed Paulo Crete. At that time, the spray had been so strong, it had caused his body to redirect so much blood to his over-sized member that it had caused him to pass out. In this application, however, it seemed to be having no negative effects on the girls at all, and so Chelsea crouched down and wrapped Amanda's limp fingers around the bottle once more, watching her dimly lift it, recognise what it was, and then promptly direct two sprays down into the crotch-and-face combo between her legs. A few moments later, she shook, clenching her legs on either side of the blonde woman's head as she herself shivered, one hand diving between her legs as a spontaneous orgasm ripped through her.

Another side effect of prolonged use of the chemical, Chelsea noted, was dulling of the consciousness and heightened relaxation, combined with notably more readiness to cum, and relaxed motor reflexes. Distantly, the part of Chelsea that was more Roberts than Chelsea made a few notes, and felt a little pleased at herself over her invention. Once they grew tired and stopped using the chemical, Chelsea knew, the girls would doze, and all the side-effects would abate within half an hour.

Striding away from the pair Chelsea found Claudia conjoined with Phoebe by way of the suction-assisted double-ended dildo, a personal favourite of Jordan's and Chelsea's and a toy the girls had made sure was readily available in every bedside drawer in every room downstairs, as well as the private glass sleeping chambers on the top floor. This one came with the attachable butt plugs, and the small LED inside the one embedded in Claudia indicated to Chelsea that this one was working at full power. She smiled and watched the pair reposition, momentarily disconnecting the device from Phoebe in the process. The red, over-excited mound of her cunt revealed itself, sticky and stretched wide around the thick ribbed phallus as it slid out of her hyper-lubricated pussy, the insides of the suction cup attached to her body dripping onto the floor with her cum.

She turned over and Claudia leaned over her, positioning the device over her and pushing slowly but steadily back into her, squeezing it so that once the cup rested around her labia it would seal once again and pull her insides tight around the shaft. As she did so, Phoebe noticed Chelsea standing not far behind them and gave her a meek, lop-sided smile that was replaced with a stiffening of her upper lip and a steepling of her eyebrows as Claudia slid her end of the dildo back in and settled the suction cup back into place. Chelsea grinned at her and left, leaving the pair to their interactions, the older woman's yippy moans already starting up again as Claudia bent into the action of fucking her. Chelsea's heightened libido and reduced inhibitions had begun to sap her focus, and there was only one thing she wanted to do, wanted to focus on doing right at that moment.

Approaching the room once more, Chelsea opened the door and was immediately pulled off balance by the ever-energised Brianna, still inside the ecstasy chamber with her stand-in mother-figure Audrey and Jordan. She tumbled inside and the door quickly closed behind her on a spring hinge, sealing as the specialised system inside queued up another concentrated release of pleasure-bringing gas. Chelsea landed in the soft-floored room and was immediately presented with the sweaty body of Jordan as she wiggled her way up to her, grasping her face and kissing her passionately, her breasts touching Chelsea's, two firm nipples scratching against her own bosom. Chelsea kissed her lover back and as the fresh wave of gas was released and the girls breathed in the heady aroma, time seemed to slow, and the feeling of fingertips at her pussy lips took over in her mind as her one all-encompassing thought process. She replaced any thoughts in Jordan's mind by returning the favour and watched the other woman melt into her body as she buried her fingers inside her lover, the pair falling back into the soft, vibrating floor as their minds turned off and their bodies turned on.

It was early afternoon and as the city below went about their normal Saturday activities, the small group of women hidden away inside the private, futuristic mansion in the hills went mad on sex, sex drugs, and rocking and rolling, safe and secluded in each other's company and the multi-multi-million dollar mountainside mansion.

* * * * *

A haze filled the room and a strange bubbling, splashing sound mingled amongst the voices in the room as Briana lit up again and inhaled. It was strong, illegally imported stuff brought in by Briana after a romantic holiday with her faux-mother figure Audrey and, far from the uptight, proper woman she usually was, the stoic Asian woman was slumped back against the couch and fingering for her turn with the glass implement. Briana took a decidedly long pull before handing it off to her relative, coughing once or twice as the chemicals hit home. She put her head back on the cushions of the cough and sighed heavily, relaxing deeply.

Across from her, strewn about a generous helping of cushions, bean bags, blankets and other good living-room add-ons, sat Chelsea, Jordan, Amanda, Katrina, Rachel, Phoebe, Claudia, and of course Bri and her mother. These were some of the members of the crew who'd escaped from a nefarious and very much illegal sex slave trading ring that Jordan had been a part of for some months during Chelsea's absence. The day before had seen Krystal and her new boyfriend joining them for lunch and dinner and a lot of catching up, but, partnered and happy and laboured with life's responsibilities, the pair hadn't wanted to indulge in the following day's sexual festivities despite being in an openly sexual relationship and had taken their leave to attend to other things.

And so the group of friends had talked, eaten and caught up, indulging themselves on the pleasantries of free living at the hands of Chelsea and Jordan. Now, as the sun slipped down over the distant horizon and the light blazed in through the thick glass windows, the girls, sore and tired and erotically spent, were relaxing in each other's company. Not overly big on drugs but not against their recreational use - and backed up by the house AI systems monitoring each of the girl's vitals as long as they were inside the premises - Chelsea and Jordan had welcomed Brianna's surprise reveal and now they were indulging themselves in it. Passing the device across to Claudia beside her who quickly and efficiently inhaled a deep draught, Audrey sighed and looked over at Chelsea. The woman was lounging on a thick bean bag, completely slack but for the fingertips of one hand as they lazily turned about the edges of a reddened and well-used pussy, still slick with the half-dried fluids of sexual ecstasy. She made to say something, but then seemed to forget, her face twisting in a frown that made her cute, streamlined face look like a child pouting. Chelsea giggled drunkenly at her and hiccupped before laughing more at herself. There was a general hearty cheer in the crowd and for some time the girls simply relaxed in the complete comfort of intimacy and freedom, each one safe to relax with their friends and let the drug do its thing.

'So... Two years, huh? Has it really been that long since we met?' It was Brianna who broke the silence hanging over the lazing crowd. Sighing and taking a moment to appreciate that amount of time, Jordan shook her head a little as she cast her mind back to that dark time in her life, a time in which she had had her old life erased from existence and a new, far greater, more satisfying, more love-filled one gifted to her, and then nearly ripped away forever like the biggest of gotchas. Her blissful expression darkened a little and her gently-curving dark eyebrows lowered, sliding closer together atop her two bright blue eyes. She repositioned herself on her bean bag for comfort and replied.

'It seems so long ago, and yet, I feel like it's barely in the past. You know, as if it's still there. I don't feel safe from it, I feel like it could all come back any day, knocking on the door and trying to kidnap me again.'

For a few seconds, no one spoke.

'I feel that too.' This time it was Amanda. 'I feel like I might wake up tomorrow morning strapped up, unable to move again - you know, as if going to sleep is taking a risk. It's scary.' A few nods, a few murmurs of assertion. 'And yet I know that, for as scared as that memory makes me, I know that thanks to that happening, my life is better off now than it was before.' Some more sounds of agreeance rose from her sides to support her statement.

'A few years ago - or at least, that's what it feels like - I was finishing school with bad grades and no idea what to do with my life. I worked bad jobs for bad pay and barely earned enough money to live. I had no desire. I wasted my time and money at clubs and sleeping with any men who'd have me. It took me years and a lot of who I now realise were some pretty predatory people around me to finally convince me to try modelling and it was the only thing I was truly good at. I caught a glimpse of what could be; of a world where I had value, where I made a difference and earned real money and was respected in what I did. And most importantly, it was a world where I valued myself.

'But that wasn't the world I was stepping into. It was all about the next bra or the thinner panty-line or even worse, which desk I was willing to get under to even be seen on the runway at all - and that wasn't just restricted to the men. It was hard and rough and full of reasons to see myself as even less valuable and ugly than I already did and unless I was beautiful and sexy and bobbing under every other desk I wasn't even going to earn a good wage most of the time. I hated it, it ruined me just a little bit, and just when I was ready to give up and go back to the cash registers - or just convince myself I'd only ever make money with my body in clubs and beds and cars and offices, something I nearly did - I got really, really drunk and passed out and ended up locked in a cell where that was going to become my reality, just in a far, far different way, and it freaked me out, man.

'But there you were, Jordan.' Amanda said, continuing her word-fall, nodding towards the girl. Eyes turned to face the dark haired chick and her cheeks reddened as she averted her gaze. 'And you, Kat, and Rachel, and all of you. Not only did you believe we could escape literally the tightest chains and cells in existence, but you believed we all could. And most importantly to me, at least, you believed I could, that I should. That was what made me wake up and realise that just because the world sucks asshole, doesn't mean I have to in order to be worth something. And then we did it, against all the odds, and that lovely guy put us up, and you guys took us home, and you were there to comfort me Bri, and you all were just the loveliest, and then there I was, back at home, alone and back where I started, but completely different. And I think that was the most important thing to ever happen to me.'

To her right, Phoebe wiped an eye, and did her best not to sniff. She definitely wasn't crying, Amanda thought to herself with an internal grin. Beside her, Brianna rubbed her shoulder and smiled at her knowingly.

'Life's not really fair to any of us, really, is it?' That was Claudia, the big girl's deep, slightly accented tones sounding louder than the modest Amanda in the open living space. 'We're either handed porn to jerk off to, or porn to get fucked in.' She smiled and bumped Phoebe's shoulder playfully with her elbow. 'If you're me, exclusively option uno.' A laugh passed around the group.

'You remember that woman that kept tabs on us?' That was Kat, brushing her loosely hanging golden hair aside to reveal two glimmering yellow orbs, pierced in their middle by a black dot, embedded in the centre of her shining eyes. 'The really nasty cunt with the gold chastity belt and the muscles?' The girls nodded.

'I remember her nearly breaking my arm,' Rachel added somewhat bitterly. 'She was a nasty thing.'

'I wonder where she is now? What happened to her?' Kat mused. 'Surely she's not still there after she let an entire building full of "stock" escape?'

'It's funny you bring her up,' Chelsea said, glancing at her girlfriend beside her. 'We ran some pretty overarching searches for the people and places Jordy could remember not long after we got back and were all recovered. Mostly it was useless flashes of cells and chains and vans, and the plate on the car you guys escaped in was unregistered not long after it was stolen from their facility. But there was one name Jordan could remember - Gloria. We ran checks on her and found a few results - nothing fancy, some Facebook profiles, a porn hub account, a bunch of random names and accounts from online - but interestingly, when we were looking through the results, Jordan felt sure she recognised one of the Facebook profiles.'

Jordan continued for Chelsea. 'It was hard to tell, just a distant shot of a chick holding up a fish in the sunset. All shadow, so no face. But, with her arms up and her legs apart, she looked muscular, and I could have sworn she had round breasts.'

A frown swam onto Kat's face. 'Round boobs? What, like fakies?'

But Jordan shook her head. 'No, not fake tits - and again, she was too far away to see clearly. But the way the sides looked in her silhouette, I felt sure she was wearing, well... A chastity cast. Like the ones we all wore.' Jordan looked around the group and was pleased to see a few looks of recognition and understanding amongst them, but she went on. 'They're oversized to fit different chest sizes and perfectly round so that they're not weak at any point, as well as an even shape for your boob to rest in. And they're solid, so they stick out a bit. Anyway, I'm not sure if it's real, and the account was private other than that profile image, so it's just a hunch.'

'That's not all though,' Chelsea continued. 'After we found her Facebook, I did some more digging and eventually found a phone that was once linked to the account. As we all know, Facebook like to know what your Granny eats and shits each day, so it had naturally tagged her movements on that phone throughout the city. For a while it was pretty normal; house, shops, a strip club where she either worked or went literally every night for sex. Then, one day, her tracker shot way out north-east, left the city, and went offline. I have no idea what happened to her or the phone out there, but it never reported in again.'

'Far north-east of the city, the middle of nowhere, and completely disconnected...' Phoebe breathed. 'Fuck...'

Jordan nodded. 'That's right. But what's more intriguing is that only two other devices have similar tracker patterns to hers - we ran a check on other tracking information to see if the different points her phone checked in at matched a lot of those same check in points on any others. Lots of the shops and that brothel matched, of course, but only two phones had recorded similar locations out of the city. Yes, lots of people drive out that way, but only two stopped at the same point.'

'They also frequently stopped at another location, similarly distant, but more southwards,' Chelsea picked up. 'Another dead spot with nothing on the map. One of those went offline pretty soon after it started going there, but the last one went more and more, and the last time we checked, had been there for quite some time without leaving.'

A few of the girls in the crowd looked at the pair in confusion. 'So, what are you saying, that there's a second slave trader? Perhaps run by one of these people with the phones?' Claudia asked. Chelsea shook her head.

'No, I don't think so, it doesn't feel like that. I think it's something else, a headquarters or meeting place or something. But that's not the best bit. The best bit is that, while yes, one of those phones went offline and didn't have many apps that track your location installed - no Facebook or whatever - the last one, the one that was most active, did.' Jordan, who'd gotten up a few moments earlier, stretched, scratched between her legs and then padded across the open-plan living room into the kitchen around the corner returned as Chelsea spoke. Now she passed behind her and dangled her phone in front of her, Chelsea quickly grabbing it and unlocking it. A few of the girls in the group passed glances at each other before invariably shuffling in closer, aware that some form of revelation was imminent. Lazing against the lounge, Brianna and her mother Audrey remained slumped in each other's arms contentedly, resting.

Gathering around, the smell of feminine sex growing stronger as the fucked-out women closed the circle in, Chelsea opened up her photos app and swiped to the right image before turning the screen to face her friends. 'Meet Tiffany. Currently 25 years old, big goth vibes, party girl, loves to drink, and most importantly, in a relationship with Alby Crete, a Facebook profile with no images and no posts, set up years ago and left untouched. Unlike Tiffany, who's posted quite a lot of wasted white-girl pics, this account has no identifying information on it at all. Except...' Chelsea dragged off, waiting for the necessary "what?!" from her crowd. She got it a moment later. 'Some Facebook tracking data we've already seen before. Specifically, data that has been to the same locations that little Tiff's has, our other phone from earlier.' Sitting back and smiling, knowing she'd delivered a little bombshell with that line, Chelsea glanced at Jordan. The other girl shrugged.

'There isn't really anything important behind all this,' she said as the others returned to a more lazed position once more. 'We're not interested in a manhunt and we definitely have nothing more than coincidence and similarities to go off of here. But it was something we thought you should know, even if just to make sure that, if you ever end up in the club with this woman, you spill your drink on her, or something. What's most important as you know is that we move on from that time in our lives and focus on the good things.'