Strange Queens Ch. 04

Chelsea sat, waiting for Paulo to start driving. He buckled himself up and hit the lights. Then, he paused for a few moments. She watched him, watched him think. He turned and locked eyes with her for a moment, and then pulled away from the curb. Behind him, an unmarked black van turned the engine over, not flicking on any lights. Casually, the rear door opened and a toughly built man dropped out with ease, something black and glinting in one hand.

He tossed his smoke into the grass lazily as he approached the house.

'We're going to see your old house, Chel.' Paulo told her. She stroked his arm gently.

'My apartment?' She asked. 'I was evicted months ago-'

'Not that house, sweet.' He breathed. 'The mountain one. Roberts' house.'

Chelsea didn't say a word for a moment. She felt a strange wash of confusion wash over her brain for a few seconds, as though she wanted to argue, but why, or how, she didn't know. A frown must have passed over her face.

As though it carried underlying tones that reverberated around the sound-proofed car, Paulo's next words carried his voice straight through the mist and into the very centre of her core.

'Settle, child. Chelsea, you can relax now.' It was a simple, and contextually disconnected, phrase, but it carried an immediate and overwhelming force for Chelsea. Instantly she sat back and the fog of doubt was gone from her mind, contented that all was well. She nuzzled into the chair and stroked her Master's thigh happily, the only thoughts in her head the thoughts of pleasure and joy, her own at being His, and his at the services she could provide.

Paulo had laced his words with just the tiniest of power, a touch of the spiritual endowment written into his very history. His voice had commanded her will, a will that had been bound by ethereal might to his own, and she submitted more than willingly. He wasn't sure if he felt completely right about using the power on her, but he was already in it now. It couldn't hurt, surely?

Paulo had already laced his voice with the powerful essence two other times during the night, and, though he didn't like to think about it, had placed his hand on her head as she'd bobbed on his member for the second time and spirited some force through his semen and each palm into her body, in essence a shorter version of the initial claiming process. For a while, it was like the old Chelsea again, and he could have sworn he'd felt every tiny millimetre of her throat as his unearthly length was buried into her breathless body. Perhaps it was just the life force in his power, that refilled her lungs without needing to breathe, or perhaps it was the extra delivery of his seed inside her that stretched him wider in her, but it had been a while since he'd felt her take him like she had then.

What worried him most in the back of his mind was that these 'treatments' didn't seem to stick. A few hours had passed and in that time he'd channelled his forces into her three times in total, whereas before he'd only assumed his control over her once and that had been it. Sure, he'd fucked her countless times since then, but even before he allowed her to assume a level, active role in his household beside him, he hadn't laced his seed or spoken the Word like he'd needed to tonight.
And beyond that, what worried him the most was that he felt the need to do it. It was compulsion, instinct, as though his heart told him to do it before he could rationally decide whether it was necessary.
Did he really believe Chelsea, the slave Chelsea, the girl he'd fallen in love with, was back? Was Roberts inside that head, playing her little charade with him? Or was this Chelsea, but -- as an unwanted side-effect of the facility's procedure perhaps -- was it the one that had been in that sports car the day he and his son had decided to steal it?

It all seemed so long ago now. And so many unknowns made it difficult for him to see the correct path to follow. Even running tens upon tens of businesses, and juggling hundreds of millions of dollars in the air whilst trying not to let the authorities see him do it, wasn't as hard as the problems one young girl were giving him.
Contentedly, he felt Chelsea leaning over him and unzipping his half-done pants once more, unbidden. As she released his length and began to bob up and down along it, he allowed the sensations to flow, calming him somewhat.
The frown, however, never left his face the whole time she went to work down there.

*

The car hit the highway and sped up, cruising easily to speed in moments. Powerful and silent, with a revolutionary hybridised motor that combined petrol engine design with electric potential -- literally, in a method that utilizes static electricity, the most unknown and uncontrollable form of energy to drive resistant magnetic heads, heads that can simultaneously be filled with fuel when desired -- the car was a masterpiece of vehicular design. Sleek with purple accents and gleaming twenty inch rims, it left the faintest of glows in the air behind it as it whipped silently along the road.

It was day now, and bright. The morning work throng wasn't far behind them. It would have taken twice as long to get to the mountainside home in it, despite their destination being the opposite direction from the stream of workers heading into the capital city. Peak hour rush sucks, even for the demi-gods among us.

Chelsea, having tucked herself into the chair to sleep after she'd withdrawn her payment of her Master's glorious seed from his beautiful, hypnotic member, lay resting in the passenger side seat, reclined back to allow her to lay comfortably. Paulo had his notebook out from his briefcase and was on a page roughly half way through it, held open with the thumb of one hand. He scrutinised his son's messy handwriting for the detailed description of Roberts's secret hideout. He could remember it now, remember what he'd been doing when he'd asked the hypnotised female for the described image...

~ 'Now Chelsea, I want you to really relax with this one. Let yourself fall even deeper than you already are, falling into the endless mist of cool, calm waters. You don't need to think about breathing. You don't need to think about moving. You don't even need to think. Just let me think for you, as you relax more and more into the empty darkness.'
'She's ready.'

'Are you?'
'Yeah, get her to say it. I'm getting a cramp.'

Sigh. 'Okay, Chelsea. Listen to me now; listen to my voice, the only sound in the gentle mist of emptiness around you. The only thing you have to focus on. I want you to describe the way an approaching visitor might find your home, up in the mountains. Take your time, and relax. Be detailed. Concentrate only on my voice, and on my touch.'

Paulo's hand, slick with clear fluid from Chelsea's body, twisted and churned an endless pattern inside Chelsea's body. Her lips were red with the friction and tiny waves assaulted her navel as the muscles deep under her skin rolled about with arousal, preparing for another of countless orgasms.

'The house is... a kilometre away from the road. When you...' sigh, 'leave the highway, you turn off onto a dirt road with a-' gasp, 'a lot of bushes, trees and plants around.' Pause, several long, hoarse sighs pass. 'there's a farmers fence. Follow the dirt road, it's about five... five, hundred metres, before the tunnel... once you get to the end of the road, you... turn low around the mountain then go back-' ragged gasping as Paulo steps up his work inside her, exciting her several levels higher, her diaphragm spasming to the point where it makes her voice catch in her throat, 'ooh, then goes back up again. There's a tunnel ahead, small and uneven. When... when you follow it along, about half way in is a gate. One... one of... us can let you inside. It's bio... me, metric, locked to our deeee-' more gasps and sighs, several high-pitched, frisky yelps of pure bliss.

'She's close.'

'Just keep writing, I know what I'm doing. I won't lose her before it hits. Go on, Chelsea. Only my voice and the sensations around you. Relax...'

Chelsea continued after many moments of rapid, gasping breathing. 'DNA. Locked to our, DNA. After the gate you're inside the,' a shrill scream escaped her lips as Paulo's balled fist twisted inside her vulva. He raised his thumb again, licking it about under the hood of her labia, ready to press down into her clitoris, her reward for her information. 'you're inside the carpark, oh, fuck, then the lift takes you right, oh, oh my... g, god... fuck, fuck! Fuck!'

Paulo hadn't pressed down yet, but his clenched fist was enough for her. Screaming out In total oblivion, Chelsea's pussy exploded with a renewed round of orgasmic ejaculation, spurting female cum on Paulo's hand and wrist and down the cushions of the leather couch under her. Shaking his head slightly, Paulo leaned his thumb into her clit and she groaned a new round of utterly shattering moans as the touch sent a doubled orgasm through her again, on top of the one she was already in. Her stomach churned visibly, breasts rolling on her chest as Chelsea's eyes rolled to their extremities in her eye sockets and her mouth widened to stretch. Paulo worked his fist and thumb about inside her, pulling her orgasm out, encouraging her to let it flow freely until she naturally stopped. It took over half a minute, but slowly, gently, she relaxed her tensely arched back and let her mouth start to close again as her mind-blowing double orgasm subsided. Paulo withdrew his fist from her body and stood up, watching her. Drips of her thick ejaculate fell from his still clenched fingers. Below him on the couch, Chelsea's body rolled and writhed as the waves of her orgasm ricocheted about in her body much like they did in her mind.

A few moments later her butt returned to the thoroughly wet leather cushion and she lay there, panting, sweating, deep in her hypnosis still, her empty mind at peace and devoid of even the simplest and benign of thoughts bar her blissful orgasm. Her stomach still clenched and relaxed, droplets of her juices dribbling from her wide open entryway.

Paulo left her there, striding to his son.

'Did we get it?'

'I think we got enough.'

'Alright. Leave her then. We'll let her rest and resume the hands-off for a while afterwards. Go have a sandwich.'

Chelsea lay in her empty-minded bliss, completely dead to the world. Her toes were still curled, and the tip of her erect clitoris poked into visibility under her hood. ~

... She had been a very fascinating charge to hypnotise. So much physical intimacy, so much mental soothing, so much coaxing. The woman's head had been full of intricate details about all manner of senseless, but nonetheless detailed ideas and devices. She had certainly had one scattered, perhaps bipolar or even autistic-functioning brain, no doubt due in no small part to the mind of the other woman, Roberts, also living inside her neurones.

In the distance Paulo could see the tunnel entrance approaching, think and wide to allow six lanes of traffic through at once. Already traffic was streaming through the opening in the sheer rock wall, thousands of people making their way to their place of employment to perform their menial tasks for a living. He changed lanes, sliding smoothly across from his inner lane to the outermost one. Three hundred metres away, a tiny lip of dirt stretched ever so slightly more away from the road than the rest, a thick covering of lush trees and bushes masking the secret entrance well. Paulo almost missed it, catching how close he had gotten to the tunnel entrance and making a guesstimate. He ended up turning a tad too early, but found the dirt path a few feet away and entered it easily.

Despite the thick overgrowth, the pathway itself was only thinly covered and quite well concealed. As soon as his car nosed through the camouflage, an open, clean dirt roadway wound away ahead of him. He gave a small, half smile as the car made its way along the road. The Roberts woman was every bit as smart as she'd seemed in their various, disembodied encounters. From her knowledge of the human mind and the female anatomy, to her skills in technology and mechanical engineering, to her leave-no-flank-unprotected methods of keeping her work safe, she had even had just the right plants planted and cared for in just the right ways over the thirty or so years it'd have taken for them to grow to sufficient height to make a seamless and invisible entrance to her home, yet one that would never grow too thick or wide to inhibit use of the entrance.

Paulo thought about the woman, Roberts, as he wound the car around the narrow pathway. From what he'd heard about her in his lengthy hypnosis sessions with Chelsea, she was a middle-aged woman of strikingly athletic features. A victim of an unusual childhood, although one that even the subdued and enchanted Chelsea did not know about, she had grown up to hate men and idolize the female race as superior in every way. Her opinion had grown so strong that she had decided, nay, even fetishized, 'helping' the women of the world to overcome and control their male counterparts, but it had contorted so much over her years of bitter, lonely hatred that she had come to believe that the only good woman was one suitably under her own control. Ironic, Paulo mused, that she had come full circle in the end, believing so strongly that women were superior to men that she had begun to hunt down and enslave solely women alone in a sort of perverse gifted heroism. It was like the theme from a science fiction movie, but instead of enslaving the victims here to work, or to feed from, or something similar, she enslaved them for various forms of sex.

The road curved and swirled up the side of the hill, dropping quite substantially down before tilting upwards again about half way along its length. At various intervals, though Paulo missed each and every one, surreptitiously concealed cameras recorded the car's every travelled inch. Once they curved around a thick beam of natural rock, the car passed underneath an overhang with a shallow, shadowy indentation underneath it and began to travel upwards again. By this time, the sound of the highway behind them was long left behind. The car curled its way around bends and through trees for several more minutes, going slowly and surely. Paulo was sure the road was safer than it looked, but having never travelled it before, he took his time. The only thing on the other side of the car from the mountainside was a long, uneven drop and sure death for them both.

Rising up over a neat incline, all of a sudden the car entered a tunnel. Paulo had barely seen it coming over the roadway as they rose up it, the entire thing bathed in blotchy shadows from overhanging trees forming a natural archway over the entire road and entrance to the tunnel. Just another method of camouflaging the entrance, of course. These entire five hundred or so metres up to the tunnel entrance would be invisible from anything over fifty metres away and nothing bar a helicopter would be out there in the open air beside the mountain. It was all remarkably in-depth and very well thought out.

The car rolled up the tunnel, neat and smooth and just wide enough, Paulo mused, for a standard truck to fit in. About five hundred metres inside, they came to a solid iron gate embedded in the walls. It was thick and completely sealed the tunnel, the beams and bars too close together for even a small child to fit through, but wide enough to allow air to pass completely unhindered. Paulo drew the car to a gentle halt and looked at it for a moment. Then he stepped out of the car and strode around to the small, unblemished metal panel in the wall beside the gate. He variously tried touching it, speaking, and inspecting its immediate surroundings in a vein attempt to find a way inside. Nothing short of the contact of his finger revealing a glowing, hologram-like set of nine unmarked number keys above the surface yielded any results, and his inspection around the device only revealed that the entire unit was one solid sheet of metal, with no fixtures or weak points visible at all.

He stepped back and turned to see Chelsea stepping sleepily out of the car, her shirt messy and her hair strewn over her face. He went to her and helped her up, brushing her clothes down and her hair back with a firm hand, a hand that made no effort at all to avoid the girl's bosom or genitals as it straightened her out, simply brushing over them with the sort of comfort that only two who have shared the utmost of intimacies can. She yawned and lightly pecked him with kisses as he held her.

Neither of them noticed the almost imperceptible sound of hissing as the metal panel behind Paulo gently issued a pressurised ejection of gas into the air immediately in front of the unit, a light mist swirling about in the air before dissipating almost instantly. If Paulo hadn't turned when he did and go to Chelsea, it would have sprayed right into his face mere inches away from the microscopic outlets.

Paulo returned his lover's kisses with gusto, and her soft fingers as they rushed over his back and neck were like the tiny massaging touches of a goddess. After a moment, they parted. Paulo asked how Chelsea was feeling, she said she was alright. She called him Master, touched him a little. Then, she noticed where they were.

'Hey, we're back home...' She looked about. 'We're outside. Oh, right, you need me to let you in! Hold on, Master.' Before Paulo could say anything, she strode to the panel, her lingering fingers dragged off his body as she left him with a glance over her shoulder.

Effortlessly, she put her palm on the metal and exhaled. It only took a few moments, but Paulo watched in amazement as the panel lit up with different coloured lights and seemed almost to depress under the weight of her hand in a similar way to the way memory foam depresses to the shape of your hand when you press into it. There was a click, a toneless, source-less melodic chime, and like that the gate in the tunnel came to life. It split into four parts, the upper edge and the two sides separating from the central square panel. Each edge-part, rounded to fit the tunnel and flat where it met the main gate, retracted silently into the tunnel walls, while the gate portion lowered itself down into the ground. The entire process, a mechanical feat by all means, took all of ten seconds.

Paulo just watched it, Chelsea watched him. Her hand brushed his backside as she stood by him.

Then, as though he had been day dreaming, he looked at her and then got back into the car. She strode around and joined him in the passenger seat, a hand on his knee as he put the car into gear and proceeded up the tunnel and inside Julia Roberts' secret mountainside home.

* * * * *

It was busy. Cars went everywhere, making turns, cutting off traffic and generally trying not to get themselves killed in the morning rush.

Jordan and Rachel sat at the back end of a particularly long line of stopped cars on a major roadway, completely unconcerned with the rush around them. They casually raised conversation. They were on their way to Jordan's secret home, having dropped Katrina off at her college some forty minutes ago, and were only about fifteen minutes away. However, stuck in traffic as they were, it could take a lot longer than that to get there.

'So? Come on, spit it out. I made you cum, remember? Do you really think i'd be that shocked to hear you're having sex with her?'

'Shut up, alright, I know you did and I trust you, but I don't know...'