Strange Queens Ch. 04

The woman that looked back at her in the mirror hardly looked like the woman that had looked back three months ago. Loud and proud but only when she had to be, Rachel was strong and curvaceous. She had a fairly decent body, even if she said so herself, with generous breasts that stuck out firmly and boasted fake-boob bounce, with a round and tight ass and wide hips. She was an athlete, or at least a fan of working out, and her arms and legs showed touches of muscle that belied her strength. She had a hard face, freckles dotting her cheeks, bright blue eyes glinting in front of her wild, electric red hair. She was a tom girl, but a sexy one, a busty and spunky woman full of life. And here she stood, looking at herself, and she saw it how other did. Or at least, how she thought they did. But she also saw herself inside, saw the personality behind the crystal eyes, saw the emotions inside herself. One thing was for sure. She was a different girl entirely to the one she had been.

One other thing was for sure, she thought as she caught her smell drifting up to her. She was sweaty and greasy, and her body smelled of fresh sex, and none of the three sounded like anything she felt like maintaining. What she was about to do was something she'd longed for for months on end, and it was long, long overdue. Turning her back to her reflection, she stepped into the shower and turned the knobs, feeling her skin prickle as the cold blasted over her before running warm. In moments she felt the tension and stress knotted in her muscles begin to seep away like she was washing dirt off her body, and she relished it. This would be one of the most deserving showers she'd ever had.

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'She's been pretty unproductive for the last day or two, Dad.' Albert said. His girlfriend, Tiffany, sat beside him, her black collar and cuffs on as always, her hand on his leg. Paulo walked paces around his office, a long and high room furnished lavishly on every side with ornate bookcases. A long, twenty seat-length desk stretched the width of the room, and behind it a grand window curtailed with stained glass finishing glowed brightly with the sun's light.
'I know she has. But that doesn't help us decide what we're going to do with her.' He muttered. Tiffany waited until his back was turned, then quickly shot her hand out and gripped Albert's pants front firmly. She bit her lip while she did so.

'Shouldn't we let her out and try to cure her? You know, get Chelsea back?' Albert asked. Paulo shook his head and put his face in his palms.
'No, no, no, boy, we can't. She isn't Chelsea, she's this Roberts woman. She's dangerous, and she has a power over people that we can't allow to take hold in this house. She's already shown us what she can do with an otherwise stubborn and unwilling subject like her.' He said, flicking a hand towards Tiffany. Tiffany's grip tightened on Albert's meat, and she bit her lip harder.
'I know, but-'

'No. I have a plan for this Roberts, and that is my final decision. She will make a good subject to observe, and we might just learn something about her abilities and facilities that will aid our money making endeavours.'
Tiffany's fingers were white at the knuckles gripping her armrest and her teeth were painful on her lip. Slowly and surely, as Paulo traced steps, she felt the clock inside her body ticking in time to the beat.

Step. Step. Step. Step.

'So what's the plan, then?' Albert asked.
'This Roberts is somewhat a dominatrix,' Paulo said. 'She's dominant, overbearing. She's womanising, too. She believes the female sex to be the dominant half of the species in every way and yet she manipulates them and controls them, twisting their minds to her desires and using their bodies to enslave them. She knows a lot more than we give her credit for about the female body and mind, and I want to hear it. Plus, if we can get her to talk, we can break her. I'm very interested to see what happens to such an overpoweringly dominant mind when it's forced to submit.'
Tiffany's legs were shaking in her seat and she bit her lip harder. She could feel her teeth through the skin, but her eyes and ears were locked on Paulo. Blood ran over her tongue.
'We'll take her to the facility outside town, the Kepplin Facility. They use hypnosis and subductive stimulation to control their stock. That is the ideal place to experiment on her.'

Tiffany's thighs clamped, or rather her muscles tried to, as for some reason she couldn't move them from their position. As Paulo turned and locked his eyes on her, her neck and jaw visibly tensed and she shook ever so slightly in her seat. She yearned to throw her head back, but she couldn't. An invisible brace had her entire body strapped stedfastly into the chair, and she could barely move an inch. But that didn't matter, because she'd heard all she needed to from Paulo. Her fingers closed around the armrests of the chair as tightly as her bones would let them. Her teeth bit harder and as she tasted her blood on her tongue and her cunt exploded violently as she rocked microscopically in orgasm. Despite the raw power of her ejaculation, her body barely moved, her muscles all simply tensed to the extreme. Paulo watched her, and she stared back at him.

For the briefest of moments, she could have sworn that he'd be able to hear the sound of her ejaculation slapping against the taut inside of her panties as it squirted from her burning vagina, her soaking panties held firmly by her tight leather pants. But then the moment subsided and she was left sucking in air, her thighs aching, a thick wetness seeping down her crotch and pooling under her ass, her body shivering with the waves of her warm, happy reward.

With a raised eyebrow and a loaded glance at Albert, Paulo turned from the two.

*

That night, when everyone was in bed, Tiffany crept away from Albert's side and snuck, naked, to the back of the building. She entered the small study-like annex that sat adjacent to the rearmost room in which the captive Roberts were being held. Silently, she reached into the bookcase and unclasped the false front, the hollow book covers dropping into a cavity in the shelf below. Reaching inside, she lightly fingered the buttons marked "talk", "mic", and "lock". She depressed the lock button and heard the solid wood door outside clunk gently.

Sneaking back out, Tiffany swung the door open and stepped into the dark room. Stars shone outside the three wall windows, the only illumination in the blackness. Tiffany could feel her heart racing, feel her excitement pounding through her veins, feel her arousal building. Still she said nothing.
Then, out of the darkness, a hushed, silky voice echoed to her. 'Tiffany.' It breathed. Her muscles twinged. 'I'm here!' she cried in a whisper to the black around her.
'Tiffany.' The shadows said again. Her lip was quivering now. 'It's me, Mistress! I'm here! I've come!'

An echoing laugh seemed to ring out around her, and Tiffany dropped helplessly to her knees. She held her hands out before her -- not in a pleading gesture, but mimicking cuffs binding her wrists. 'I'm here, Mistress! I have information! I'm ready!'
Silence. Dead, cold silence. Then, like a wraith from the depths of hell, two cool, calm hands appeared on Tiffany's shoulders. They rubbed around and around, massaging her tense muscles. She could feel her nerves and shakes melting out of her body at the touch, and she sighed. 'I'm ready.' She breathed.

Lightning fast, she was on the floor, spun around, legs splayed, arms flat, on her back. The air left her lungs and she felt a hitch of excitement in her throat at the jolting pain of the impact. She knew her mistress was near her Spot, knew she was in position to receive her reward. She began to talk in hushed whispers.
'They're planning on taking you to one of their slave selling facilities, a place called Kapplin Facility. It's out north, out of the city. This place is unique because it utilises hypnosis and-' she stumbled as her arousal nerves made her breathless, and she quickly got back on track before her Mistress punished her, 'they use hypnosis and submissive techniques to control their stock. I think they use both physical and mental stimulation, forcing their subjects to submit wholly to them. They want to take you there to experiment on how a dominant mind takes to the submissive pressure, and to extract what you know about the female sex and about mind control.'

Tiffany panted, her speech done. Still there was no movement, no sound. A thought touched her brain and she let out a tiny whimper. 'M... Mistress?'
Silence.

'Mistress?' she called, meekly. Her heart raced. She couldn't have let her Mistress down! No! No!

Still the silence bore down on her, impossibly overbearing and making her completely and totally alone.

And then she felt her Mistress's touch, the cool, knowing touch of a single finger pressing against her pussy lips and slipping easily up under her hood.

The thumb contacted her clitoris and she screamed silently into the night, her back arching, her legs flying into the air as her cunt contracted into instant spontaneous orgasm. Her hands flew to her tits and mauled them, twisting her nipples violently. Still the thumb held its position, neither pressing down nor lifting away. Like a finger on a button and nothing more, her orgasm continued, her moans echoing emptily around the room. With only the thumb firm against her clit, she came, her legs high and wide in the air, her back taut and arched. The thumb never left her.

Finally, finally, the finger was gone and she drooped, her legs dropping to the floor limply, her back relaxing, her breath coming in hard, ragged gasps, her breasts red with thick gashes she'd made with her nails, her nipples diamond hard. She panted, her body absolutely drained. She couldn't see it, but there was a long splash stain on the carpet where she'd ejaculated with squirting force.
'Good girl. Good little slave girl.' Roberts said powerfully, standing tall and proud above the woman on the floor. Despite the blackness, she stood proud, her back straight. She raised her thumb to her nose and inhaled deeply, before placing it on her own vagina and drawing a line all the way down her labia from very top of her lips to the tiny part of skin between one hole and another. She drew the line back up again, like she was performing a ceremony on her vagina, pushing the woman's juices into her skin but not inside herself. Then, she cleaned the thumb off between her tits and stepped casually over the limp body on the floor.

'You may leave when you have recovered.' She dismissed, sitting herself down on the couch and swinging her legs up.
Yes, she thought to herself as her hand casually flopped to her crotch to idly play with herself. Yes. The new slave is doing her job nicely, and this destination might just prove to do exactly the opposite of what my captors intended. She smiled evilly as her fingers danced inside herself, and she couldn't help but let out a gentle, evil little laugh. Across the room she heard the scraping of skin on carpet as her young enslaved protégé picked herself up off the floor and skipped out of the room quickly.

A few moments later, the door clunked as it locked again, and she was once more alone.

* * * * *

Rachel stepped outside the motel room, fresh, free, and now clean. Her long red hair hung in clumps around her shoulders, a dark maroon colour. She casually towelled it off. She still didn't bother with anything to cover her body up with, though. Better to leave the robes for the rest of the girls, she'd thought. That, and that she enjoyed the freedom the nakedness brought her.

Outside standing around the van was a small group. Brianna and her mother, plus Amanda by her side, Katrina and Jordan, both naked, and one other female all stood together, and standing with them, a big tray of food in his hands, the shopkeeper. He seemed like an odd mix between sheepish and boastful, Rachel thought as she watched him standing there, holding out the tray of breakfast to the girls who took helpings gratefully. Almost like he felt manly being around so many naked women. But then, Katrina was there, and Rachel guessed correctly that it would be her that would be the cause for his shy look. Not many people had experienced Katrina like he had, she thought with a wry smile. In fact, he could perhaps be one of a very privileged few who had not only been with the beautiful oddity, but been inside her too.

Rachel came over and reached out, grabbing a slice of toast and a cup of orange juice. 'Ah, another visitor! Glad you could join us!' the owner said gaily. Rachel nodded and bowed slightly, somewhat comically. He returned the favour. The guy was in elation, and Rachel didn't need any more guesses as to why he'd woken up so happy this morning. As she thought it, her eyes flicked down towards the back of Katrina's leg, where her black dart casing still stuck to her skin.

No guess needed indeed.

Slowly the rest of the girls began to wake up, and Brianna and Rachel kept periodically checking on them. As they woke, the girls would sit with them and make sure they were alright. Most were, many keen to shower. A few simply turned over and groaned at them, but they eventually got up too and showered. Rachel and Brianna were keen to let them move in their own time, allowing the others to finish their shower and the more hung-over ones to rest as long as they liked. It took a few hours for them all to rouse, the last few bearing three and four dart casings respectively. These girls had been the hardest ones, refusing to wake up and still suffering a little from the drug. Rachel had to admit that the store owner was kind and generous, spending his day making them toast and drinks for the newly awakening ladies. He never asked a word, either. He just ferried trays back and forth, and for that Rachel was thankful. Still, she would make sure he stayed that way before they left.

And so it came to just after midday and the sun was beginning to succumb to gravity once more. When everyone had relaxed and showered and most of them were dressed in their robes, Rachel gathered them around.
'Ladies. I hope everyone is feeling much better now that they're awake and cleaned up. I sure know I appreciated the wash after two months in a cell, locked behind padded belts and chains. As you know, I started the plan to get us free, along with my friend Jordan here.' Rachel put her arm around Jordan's shoulders, and she smiled at the ground. 'However, if it hadn't been for you, all of you, and especially Katrina, Brianna, Amanda and Effie, we would have failed long before we ever saw the sun again. We'd all be back in our cells right now, perhaps chained permanently to our beds this time. So I want to take this moment to thank you, all of you, for helping free each other. I can tell you this; nothing feels better than the sweet scent of freedom on my skin.' Rachel grinned, and she was pleased to see her smile reflected around the group. Even the owner was grinning a big, dorky grin, behind the group. Rachel wondered if the grin was from her little speech, or the row of asses pointed at him.

'We managed to find this motel by chance, and we got you all settled down, unlocked and cleaned up as best we could, so that you could rest the effects of your darts in peace. Some of you have suffered more than others,' a few in the group turned to look at one of the girls, a youngster of perhaps twenty, thin and teenager-looking with a shock of salty blonde hair and blue eyes. She smiled and looked down meekly at her body, four separate dart casings embedded in her skin, from thigh to shoulder. There was a collective chuckle from the semi-circle. 'but we're all alive and free, and that's what counts. Katrina and I have decided that we will drive you home, one by one, now if you feel you're ready. We can use the van, and our good friend has offered to lend us his car as long as he gets it back.' Rachel looked about for a long moment, all eyes on her. She sighed.

'Guys, I don't really know what else to say. You've all been through a lot, and so have we, and I don't really know any of you well enough to know how to help you more. I just want you to know that I'm really glad you all made it out in one piece, and if there's ever anything I can do for you, you just have to ask.' She looked at each person in turn, meeting their eyes. The blonde, the quadruple dart victim, cleared her throat.
'I wish to return that motion,' she said. 'You saved us. If you ever need our help, we're here for you. All of us.'

A round of applause. Rachel sniffed, smiled at her feet. And then the speech was over, and they all came together. Hugs were passed, fond, thankful hugs. Some girls shook hands, a few kissed, one particular couple hooked their arms over each other's shoulders and made out against the van. Everyone pretended not to look at them.

Twenty minutes later, the girls were once again piled into the back of the wide cabin van, this time dart free and chain free, their bodies and their souls released at last. They all waved to the owner of the motel, who dropped his tray in happiness, swore, then shrugged it away and waved vigorously with both arms. Brianna reached out and pulled the doors shut, and the sound of gravel under tyres marked their departure.
'I'll miss you!' The shop keeper said quietly as he waved. He blew a kiss to the retreating van, although he aimed it at one girl in particular.

As the black mini pulled onto the highway and merged into the lane, the sun dipped closer towards the hills and Katrina found herself staring out at it, suddenly aware of the clean-up job the motel owner would have on his hands tonight. She sort of felt bad about that.

'Alright, first up is Morestown,' Jordan said from the middle seat, consulting a piece of paper they'd borrowed from their new friend. The girl's addresses were listed down, from closest to furthest. Morestown was up first, and it was about twenty minutes away. She tucked her legs, straddling the console, under the seat for stability and slipped her pen casually over her ear. Rachel was driving, Katrina on the far passenger side.
'It's going to be a fair drive till we drop everyone home.' Jordan added. Rachel nodded.

'That's okay.' Sher said.

They settled back into their seats, quiet, content. Jordan reached out after a few minutes and flicked the radio on. Feel good rock music started playing from the speakers, and Rachel quietly hummed along. Before long, Katrina was singing along to one of her favourites, and Jordan joined in too.

Before long the girls pulled into a quiet street lined with thick trees, and ground to a gentle halt outside a small, red bricked building. Katrina jumped out and opened the doors, holding out a hand for the occupant to step down. It was an older woman, Phoebe, 32 and much more attractive than was possible for her age. She still boasted flawless features and tight, clear skin. She took Katrina's hand and stepped down. Then, a little awkwardly, she hugged the golden girl, catching her off guard. But she joined in, and they embraced.
'Thank you.' She said honestly, holding Katrina at arm's length. 'Thank you all.'
And then she was stepping up the curb and away, striding towards her home.

'You're welcome.' Katrina said to her back.

*

Forty minutes later the van pulled to a stop outside a city apartment block and two girls stepped out. They'd looked at each other when one of them, Caitlin, had spoken her address. "No way!" the other had replied in surprise. "You're there too? What floor?"