Precious was attending a gaming session in Felicity’s room. When none of the harem were being used by their Owners, it was a nice way to unwind. Felicity always had the latest systems, with all the newest games. It was one of the smaller perks of being owned by a pair of rich women, having nearly every whim met. Felicity and Lisa got very into their games, and a lot of them seemed very hard, so it was more fun to sit and watch. They threw themselves into every jump or sucked in through their teeth when dodging an attack. The groans of disappointment when they took a harsh blow, and the controllers being thrown down when they died were just as entertaining for Precious as playing the games herself.
Tonight’s fun was interrupted when the door opened. Quickly, Felicity paused the game, and all 3 of them turned to face the door. They didn’t know who it was, but someone opening the door without knocking meant it was likely either Diana or Jasmine. Precious watched as the door swung open, and their Mistress stood there, impassively, cold eyes scanning the three of them. Lisa shifted in place, and Precious imagined that Lisa was worrying they had done something wrong.
“Precious, come with me.”
Precious stood, feeling the eyes of her fellow harem members on her as she followed their Mistress out of the room. They didn’t go far. Mistress simply closed the door to Felicity’s room and spoke again.
“I have a task for you.”
Precious curtsied, she might not have been their maid any longer, but it just seemed like the correct response to a statement like that.
“Of course, Mistress, how may I be of use to you?” The words felt…almost nostalgic.
“An…associate of ours, a Miss Isabelle Driedger, has a piece of art we desire for our collection. She has been quite stubborn, refusing to sell it to us, no matter how much money we offered. We have finally worked out an agreement. On top of payment, she desires to make use of one of our playthings. So, tomorrow, you are going to go retrieve the piece, in Italy.”
Precious stared for a moment. They were literally pimping her out for a piece of art.
It was also exciting in a different, more mundane way.
“Thank you for taking me on a trip, Mistress, I’ve never left the country before!”
“I am not taking you, you are going,” Jasmine corrected her doll.
“You aren’t…coming with me, Mistress? Am I going with Her Highness, then?”
“No, we are both otherwise engaged. We trust you go on your own, and to return to us.”
Precious’ mind was spinning. The excitement of this sudden trip, of its purpose, but also realizing that it was unsupervised. They were trusting her to obey, even on the other side of the world.
Mistress continued explaining, unconcerned with how Precious was barely absorbing what was being sai to her. “I have arranged everything, including all your transportation needs. You will take my private jet to Venice. You will have a day to recover from travel, and then the second day after your arrival, in the evening, a car will take you to meet with Miss Driedger. For that evening, you are to obey her every command, as if it came from us. Afterwards, sign the contract transferring the sculpture into our ownership, and bring it back with you. You then have a day to yourself, to enjoy Venice. Finally, you will return to us on Monday. Upon your return, we are giving you 2 days entirely to yourself. You will need it to recover.”
Precious’ mind boggled. That was so much to take in. A private jet? All her documents had been handed over to her Jasmine and Diana, when she’d signed the contract, agreeing to sell her life to them. She was going to need those, just to get through airport security. It was such an astonishing show of trust in her. Those documents would mean that if Precious wanted to flee… she would have what she needed to do that. Of course, she would never want to, but that they were giving her the opportunity was…incredible.
“Th-Thank you, Mistress!” Jasmine looked almost amused at that.
“That is all, you can return to what you were doing.” Jasmine said. Before Precious could think to ask any questions, Jasmine was already off, her Mistress was always busy. Precious stepped back into the room, Felicity was absorbed back into the video game, but Lisa was grinning, watching the door, she’d obviously been trying to eavesdrop.
“Are you in trooouble?”, the catgirl teased.
“No, they’re sending me on a trip,” Precious said, her voice giving away her shock.
Lisa’s grin quickly turned into a huff, “They never send me anywhere.”
“Oh, no? I wonder why that could be…” Felicity snarked, rolling her eyes.
The next morning, Diana saw Precious off, walking with her through the halls of the mansion, to the driveway, staying with her as their driver loaded up Precious’ luggage. It had been packed for her by two maids she didn’t recognize at all, the familiar faces of her former co-workers seemed to all be replaced by new faces these days, ones who had never known Precious’ while she was an employee of the mansion. Just as Precious prepared to get into the backseat of the car, Diana handed Precious a wallet. “There is more than enough loaded on the card for you to enjoy yourself, The PIN is 6239,” she explained.
“Thank you, your Highness,” Precious said, stifling a yawn.
“Ah, and one last thing.”
Diana pulled Precious into her arms, forcing her into a kiss, the Queen’s tongue exploring, claiming her mouth. Precious closed her eyes, her stomach filled with butterflies. No matter how many times it happened, it was astounding that the fantasy she had held onto for years had come true. It was truly bliss, being kissed by the woman that Precious had admired for so long. Her kiss had no tenderness to it, Precious was just an object for Diana to enjoy, after all. That didn’t change the fact it felt so wonderful to lose herself in the sensations of her fantasy made real. When Diana broke the kiss, pulling away, Precious heart ached, for just a moment, she even was leaning forward as Diana stepped back, trying to ‘follow’ Her Highness, the source of pleasure, purpose, fulfillment.
“You’ve gotten better at that.” She said, with a soft smile, before resting her hands on Precious’ shoulders and giving her one last kiss on her forehead.
“Be good,” Diana said, smiling, as she back up towards the mansion, leaving Precious to get into the car that would take her to the airport.
As she was driven to the city, Precious took a moment to flip through the passport. There was a surprisingly lovely picture of her, as she appeared now, inside. *When did they take this?*, she wondered. She couldn’t remember ever being asked to take passport photos. Then she smirked, realizing what this gap in her memory must mean.
Flying out for most of a day was exhausting, but at least Precious got to enjoy the privileges of wealth. Taking a private jet meant it was much faster to get through security, for one. For another, there was a bed in the back of the plane, which she quickly settled into, catching up on some much-needed sleep. Plus, she could get up and stretch her legs whenever she wanted. Even better, she could help herself to the snacks that were stocked. It made the hours and hours at least tolerable. But that didn’t stop Precious from being worn down by the air travel and she was relieved when the plane landed.
Stepping out into the airport, a driver held a sign with her name on it. Groggily, she followed the driver to her car, and was quickly shuttled to some magnificent hotel, befitting her Owners. It was probably what they would book for themselves if they had been making this trip. The royal suite was magnificent, the size of a small house in an of itself. Not that she was in any mood to goggle at it. Precious undressed carelessly, throwing her clothes into a pile on the floor, removing her wig, but just setting it on the nightstand instead of in its box. Her contacts went back into their labeled carrying case. With that arduous task completed, Precious collapsed into bed, immediately falling into a deep, dreamless slumber.
Precious woke, at least halfway. The sun was so bright out that she knew at least that it was late in the day. She squinted at an ornate grandfather clock. She couldn’t make out the time. Ugh. Inconvenient. Before, when she wore glasses, she could just reach to the nightstand and put them on. Now, she had to deal with a contacts case. It took all the willpower Precious could muster to get out of the bed so she could put in her eyes for the day… it was well in the afternoon.
Precious flopped back into the bed, bunching up the luxurious duvet into a cocoon to get settled again. But then, a happy chime played on her phone. Brandy groaned. It was the first time she could ever remember being annoyed that her Owners were making demands of her. She was so eager to please, so happy to serve, but right now, she just wanted to go back to sleep. But obedience came first, and Precious untangled herself from the bedding, and quicky checked her purse.
Precious breathed a sigh of relief. It was just her outfit photo, and it resembled… something she could wear to an office job. It was a quick and easy way to dress up, unlike the ordeal that some of the outfits Clara would choose could end up being. An attached message read, “You have 2 hours until the car arrives.’ Precious jumped out of the bed. No time to waste.
Precious stood, slightly uncomfortable in the hotel’s driveway, waiting for the car. She knew it would arrive, Mistress said it would, but it was a relief when the car pulled up, the driver opened the door, and Precious could just get in and let herself be taken to her task for the night. The car took a winding path to the outskirts of the city, close enough to be convenient, far enough to allow for some privacy. Precious had been expecting something as grand as her Owner’s mansion, but the car took her to a cottage. It was nice, to be certain, but not as ostentatious as what she had assumed she would be taken to. She stepped out of the car, and as soon as she shut the door behind her, it started pulling away. ‘Hope this is the right place.’ Precious thought to herself, stepping forward.
Precious stood at the rather unassuming door, for a moment, took a deep breath, to try to prepare herself for…whatever would happen, then pressed the doorbell. A few moments passed, then there was a shuffling noise behind the door, the sound of it unlocking, and the door opened, revealing a young, tanned woman with dark hair and green eyes, wearing a yellow sundress with white polka dots. But the thing that stood out about her appearance was the thin ring of metal around her neck. *’Pretty sure this is the right place, then,’* Her eyes looked Precious up and down, but nothing about her expression betrayed any personal feelings on the doll’s appearance.
“Hello,” she said as she gave a polite curtsey, “I am looking for the home of a Miss Isabelle Driedger. Do I have the right address?”
The woman nodded, closing her eyes briefly, with a small, demure smile.
A gently accented voice called from another room.
“Who is at the door?”
“I believe this is our guest for the night, my Lady”
“Bring it here.”
“Yes, my Lady.”
The woman turned around, and Precious followed. This cottage was much smaller than the mansion, but it was just as well kept, and, despite what the outside suggested, it was equally lavishly decorated. Following the slave, Precious was led into the living room, where a woman sat on the couch. She was older than Mistress or Her Highness. Her face was lined, in a way that made her look dignified and stern, with dark hair, just starting to turn silver, tied up in a tight bun with not a single hair out of place. She was dressed more casually than Precious had ever seen Mistress or Her Highness, in a well fitting, if low-cut crimson sweater, light grey slacks, and dark socks. She was scanning Precious, her eyes looking her up and down, hungrily. The slave had taken an unintrusive spot in the corner of the room.
“You’re the one Jasmine has sent me, then?”
“Yes, my name is Precious. How would you like to be addressed?”
“Miss will suffice. Stay there.”
She stood up and walked over to the doll. She started trailing her fingers over Precious’ body, while staring right at her. Precious felt a bit uncomfortable, and looked down, avoiding the glare. Miss Drieger smirked.
“Would you be a dear and focus on my eyes?” Precious watched… and Miss Drieger started blinking… Precious mirrored her. She blinked again. A bit more slowly this time… and on it went…blinking slower, slower, Until Precious kept her eyes shut.
“Are you in trance now, doll?” Miss Drieger asked.
“Erm…No, Miss.” Precious felt so uncomfortable, standing there, keeping her eyes closed. She knew what Miss Drieger was trying to do, but for whatever reason… it just hadn’t worked.
“Ugh, nevermind,” Miss Drieger huffed, then took a breath to recompose herself, “What would happen, if I were to say,” Miss Driedger leaned into Precious’ ear and whispered, “Into the dollhouse?” Precious body stayed standing, only leaning forward a little bit, but her mind tumbled down, down, down, into trance… before just as quickly being brought back “Up!”
Precious reoriented herself to the world, it took a moment, she needed to blink a few times, to clear away that wonderful fuzziness, the quick fractionation of being put in trace and brought up so quickly.. Miss Driedger was still in front of her, lips curled into a predatory smile.
“Mmm, there we go. Perfect.”
“Thank you, Miss.”
“Hush now…” she said, pressing a finger to Precious’ lips. “If I want to hear you speak, I will ask you a question. Do you understand me?”
“Very good. Slave, come here.” Isabelle stepped away from Precious, and went back to lounging on her couch, sipping a glass of wine. As she stepped away, her slave stepped forward.
“Undress it, toy with it. Put on a show for me.”
The woman in the sundress approached Precious and looked in her eyes for a moment. If Precious had to guess, she suspected Isabelle’s slave was checking to see if Precious consented to what was about to happen. Precious gave a slight nod, and a gentle smile, and the slave set to work, leaning in close, and kissing Precious’ neck as she started unbuttoning Precious’ blouse. As the slave left a trail of kisses over Precious’ newly exposed flesh, Isabelle was speaking, seemingly more to herself than either of the playthings in front of her.
“I’m so pleased that Jasmine agreed to share you with me. I admire their talents… Whatever it takes to make things like you… so docile, obedient…utterly brainwashed… Well, they have it, and I don’t. I’m mature enough to admit that...” her tone betrayed some bitterness, whatever she said. “I’ve been doing my very best with my slave. We’ve had some fun, to be certain, and I love her, very much. But despite my best efforts… Well, she still knows her name, for one thing.”
Precious looked down, saw a moment of hurt in the slave’s eyes while she was unzipping Precious’ skirt. Precious reached out with one hand and stroked the slave’s hair. It was hard to communicate wordlessly, but Precious hoped they understood. A moment of commiseration between two individuals who lived to serve. Even when you couldn’t control it, falling short of your owner’s desires for you hurt more than any punishment they could inflict. Quickly, Precious’ skirt and panties joined the rest of her clothes in a pile.
Precious gasped, as the slave started kissing her vulva, licking between her folds, and teasing Precious’ clit with her tongue.
“Is it ready?” Isabella asked.
“Yes, my lady,” The slave said, winking at Precious, who blushed.
“Good. Take it to the bedroom.” The slave stood up, and gently led Precious by her hand. Precious heard as Isabelle stood up, keeping just a step behind them. Precious was led up some wooden stairs, that she expected to creak under their steps, but they were silent. Once they reached the top of the stairs, Precious was directed into a cozy little bedroom, something in Precious’ mind thought ‘cottage’. But then she noticed that there was a hardpoint in the ceiling, and cuffs sticking out from between the bed’s mattress and box spring.
Isabelle spoke from behind her. “Get on the bed, on your back.”
Precious obeyed, of course, crawling over the sheets to get into position. Laying there for a moment, she watched as Miss Driedger reached under the bed for a large black bag, which she unzipped, and started pulling out all manner of toys for lusty fun. Vibrators, a crop, a gag, nipple clamps, an ornate black paddle. As Miss Driedger considered her implements, her slave got into the bed beside Precious and resumed kissing and running her hands all over the doll’s naked body.
“Excellent work, slave.” Isabelle said
“Into the dollhouse.” She said, almost idly, and Precious, already comfortable, let her eyes slide shut, as her mind lost a sense of what was going on around it… and then with a *snap* she was brought back up, and her eyes rolled back in their head, as she suddenly became truly aware of how fucking good she felt. Miss Drieger was beside her in the bed, rapidly thrusting a toy into Precious with her right hand, watching Precious’ eyes intensely. It was all so much to wake up to at once, Precious started moaning and writhing, realizing that while she was down, she’d been bound to the bed…. Then her trigger was said again… and then someone was sitting on her face, and she needed to reorient herself.
Precious wasn’t sure how long she was there, being brought into and out of trance, fucked in her mindless and empty state, tossed around… the next time she came back to something resembling awareness, Isabelle and her slave were making out on top of her body, some sort of vibrating toy had been shoved inside her. Precious reached her face up to start licking at the slave’s pussy… another *snap* and she was on her stomach, Isabella underneath her, the slave on top of her, both her holes were being filled and fucked, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “Cum for me.” Isabella ordered, and Precious’ body spasmed, she screamed her throat raw…
Eventually, they seemed satisfied. Isabelle left, presumably to wash up, while the slave untied Precious, and handed her a glass of cool water, before helping her back into some semblance of being dressed. They kept her panties, not that Precious noticed. Isabella brought her some paperwork and a pen. Precious would have signed anything at that point, she was too mind-fucked to read what she was agreeing to. But there was nothing untoward, the slave took the paperwork away, handed Precious a small wooden crate, ‘fragile’ stamped all over it, and walked her back out to the car. Precious vaguely noted that it was late into the night now.
“My Lady was very pleased with you. Thank you for showing me what is possible. I hope I’ll get there one day.” The slave kissed Precious on the cheek, before opening the car door for her.
Precious tried to respond. She’d hoped to say something encouraging like ‘from everything I have seen tonight, you’re dutiful and obedient, I am sure you will, with practice’, but instead only managed to make a noise that was scarcely more than a mumble, as the slave closed the car door behind her. Precious wasn’t even entirely certain where she was going, her body was moving on autopilot, throwing her clothes off in a loose pile in her suite, curling up for a dreamless sleep in the plush bed. Likewise, whatever piece of art her body and mind had been traded for rested safely on the table, in its well packed crate.
Precious, once again, woke up late in the afternoon the next day. Her body ached, a reminder of how she had been used the previous night, and Precious wasn’t entirely sure she was fully awake yet… sleepily, she reached to the pile of clothes beside her bed, and dug around for her phone… There wasn’t even a text dictating her outfit for the day… her Owners were serious. This day was entirely hers.
She could have dressed down, dressed like ‘a normal person’, but Precious loved her expensive outfits, and even if this was ‘a day off’ from being a sex slave, it was worth washing up, and making herself look like the pretty doll she was… And her lessons from Clara were really paying off! A few quick poses in the mirror to enjoy how pretty she had become, and she was out to hit the town!
Honestly, she just needed a coffee, and after a short walk, headed into the first café she could find. She ordered the only thing on the menu that she was confident she understood, a chai latte, and found a seat at one of the outdoor tables, her drink quickly being brought out to her. Precious settled in, getting comfortable in her chair, and gave her latte a cautious test sip. Still too hot to drink, so she shut her eyes, and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her skin, the smell of sea air. She had enjoyed her service as a maid, and being a doll was like heaven on earth… but still, it was nice to have some time that was completely her own, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d truly had that. Time that wasn’t accountable to someone else in some way. It was of course, possible that her Owners would call, or send a text, some unexpected order. but for now, this time was hers, and it was wonderful. She was exhausted from the flight, and from Miss Driedger’s unceasing use of her body and mind the previous day. Maybe later, she would check out the late-night shopping offers, but for now, she could lean back, sip her latte, close her eyes, and take things at her own pace.
These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone stepping up on the stones, and stopping much too close behind her chair. Precious was about to turn around, and ask this person to give her some space, when she heard something that made her mind stop.
Jenny had always been more curious than cautious. She didn’t want to lay on her deathbed and wonder ‘what if’. So, she took every opportunity that came her way, wild parties, weird jobs, travelling, they all added to her experiences. Applying for a job on the dark web wasn’t even close to the riskiest thing she had done. If it was legit, she figured she could work for a summer, and then use the wages to go off on her next wild adventure. But one weird ass interview later, and she was a maid.
She had loved the mansion at first. Okay, all the frilly nonsense was irritating, as was having to take out all her piercings each morning. She felt like gagging a little bit each time she called Jasmine or Diana by their titles. As far as Jenny was concerned, it was self-absorbed bullshit. Clearly, these two were rich, and bored, and had no idea what else to do with their fortune. For the wage they were paying, though, Jenny would let them play out whatever fantasy they wanted. She got the truck of her dreams after a month. It’s amazing how much more enticing all those bad-ass leather clothes looked once she was able to afford them. Even fulfilling her every whim, she made more than she could spend. But it was enough to make her stay, Even more than the absurd wage, there were some great perks to the job.
For example, it was really fucking hot. Stepping into a world where everyone was open about what they wanted, where everyone was able to get tested immediately because there was an onsite doctor. It didn’t matter if she was feeling like a top or a bottom on dungeon nights, there was always someone there willing to indulge her desires.
Not to say there weren’t moments of discomfort.
The first time she noticed something…odd, -more than the kinks that her bosses indulged in with their harem- was with a maid named Carol. Carol was not a good maid. She was pleasant enough, sure. She just didn’t really care about the work and couldn’t fake it. She would leave beds wrinkled, and if a trash can only had one or two things in it, she wouldn’t bother emptying it. Carol’s approach to work was just ‘get it done’. “Who’s gonna notice?”, she’d say.
Well, Natalie noticed. The head maid generally left the maids to do their own thing. Generally. Sometimes she would step in if two maids really didn’t like working together. Or to stop an argument when a pair couldn’t agree which of them was going to do which undesirable task. She played with a few of the maids too, teasing them while they tried to work. But that all seemed on the up-and-up. Half the staff was doing something kinky with the other half.
But one day, she came into the staff dining room at breakfast. That was unusual on its own. But the fact that one of their employers, Jasmine, “Mistress”, as she insisted all the servants call her- came with her turned it into a spectacle. As soon as their employer entered, the entire staff went quiet. The clattering of plates, the small talk, it all stopped. Nobody dared move an inch.
“Miss Carol,” Jasmine had started, sounding almost bored, “Miss Natalie has noted that your performance is lacking. She also tells me you have not taken her attempts to improve the quality of your service to heart. Come with me. *Now*.” Carol looked around at the rest of the staff, nervously, but obeyed. Jenny had thought that she would never see Carol again, that she’d been fired. But two days, Carol was back to work. Not only back to work, but she was also eager, and much, much more detail oriented.
Of course, people asked what had happened. But all Carol would say was “Mistress reminded me how lucky I am to work here, and honestly, a job well done just…feels better, you know?”
It wasn’t what made Jenny realize how fucked up everything was in the mansion. But with hindsight, she knew what had happened. Jenny never would have guessed the truth, if not for one fateful night in the dungeon. It was sheer dumb luck that Jenny learned what kind of people her bosses really were. She wasn’t supposed to be there. But she’d forgotten her bag in there after a play party. It was late, and she was technically up past lights out. So, she was being extra cautious not to make any noise.
She’d snuck into the dungeon, silently opening the door. Nobody was supposed to be here, but the dim red lights were on, and Jenny heard people speaking. The first voice, she recognized as Diana. More curious than cautious, Jenny tiptoed in, just enough to see what was going on. Maybe she could see her boss getting up to twisted shit. That might be hot.
Diana was kneeling in front of one of the cages. Inside was a young woman, naked except for a shock collar. She was staring daggers at Diana. Jenny couldn’t see Diana’s face, but she sounded almost like she was pleading, rather than her usual disinterested voice.
“Come now, pet. Just one little bark. All you need to do is give me any indication that you are willing to be a good puppy for me, and this can all be over. You can go back up to your room, with your chew toys, and your nice, soft, warm bed. Why all this struggle? Wouldn’t it be so much easier to just let yourself be a good pet for me?”
“Fuck you.” Jenny grinned. She’d wanted to say that to Diana for the past 2 years. Then the girl in the cage spasmed and gasped, the cage rattled. Diana must have activated the shock collar.
“Haven’t we been good to you? Taking you in, paying off all those debts? Are you telling me you really would rather go back to all that? Bouncing from shelter to shelter? You found a forever home! Isn’t it so much better not to have to think about any of those troublesome things, and just be a happy little puppy?”
“Come now.” Diana’s voice shifted to something… different. She had knelt in front of the cage. Jenny couldn’t see what Diana was doing, but heard a ‘clicking’ sound, like a pen, but louder. ”Down, girl.” It caught the girl’s attention; her eyes were suddenly very interested in whatever was in Diana’s hand. “Just listen to my voice… remember how good the clicker feels.” For a moment, the girl’s eyes glazed over, the anger started to fade from her face. Then, she quickly bit down on her own right arm. The pain must have focused her, broken her out of whatever Diana was trying to do to her. She spat out of the cage at Diana, who wiped the spit off her face, sighing.
“Very well.” Diana sighed, then walked closer, and unlocked the cage. The girl stared suspiciously, not moving.
“You can get out of the cage. Get dressed. You’re done here.” The girl crawled out. Never taking her eyes off Diana, she picked up a pile of discarded clothes…A sweater with ears stitched to the hood, and yoga pants with a fluffy tail that had been mostly torn off. When the girl pulled up the pants, she ripped the tail off completely and let it fall to the dungeon floor.
“Follow me,” Diana said. Jenny was never so thankful for the grace training she’d received as she had been in that moment. Quickly, but silently, she snuck back out of the dungeon, and hid in the closet across the hall. A reasonable person would have run back to their room. But Jenny just had to know what was happening. In the dim light of the mansion halls at night, she snuck behind Diana and the girl, all the way to the front entrance. Reflecting on it later, Jenny knew that if Diana hadn’t been so distracted, so emotional, she probably would have noticed her stalker. But thankfully, her focus was singular, on the girl. Diana led them outside, and to Jenny’s relief, she didn’t shut the mansion doors fully behind her.
Jenny, lowered herself into the rose bushes in front of the mansion. Thorns scratched up her arms and legs, it was hard not to cry out. But she got in with the tiniest of rustles, able to just barely see through the bushes to where Diana and the girl were standing. Then she started listening carefully. She didn’t have to wait long, before she heard a car rolling up the driveway. She ducked down into the bushes, moving as little as possible.
The girl started speaking, almost shouting, “So, what, you think I’ll just hop in this car and disappear? Like some ‘contract’ is going to stop me from talking? I’m going to tell everyone about this place, and what you and your bitch of a wife do to people!”
Diana’s next words were dripping with fury. Her voice was a hissed whisper, but Jenny had *very* good hearing, and there were no other noises except her own breathing and the chirping of crickets. “No. You aren’t. C’est Fini.” The girl looked like she’d smacked her head into a doorframe or something and started rubbing her temples. When her eyes opened, she was looking around, confused.
“Hey… uh, weird question, but…Who are you, and… where am I?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Diana said, “You’re leaving. This car will take you where you need to go.”
The girl got into the car, and it drove away. Diana breathed in and out, deeply, shakily, as she pulled her cell phone out of her handbag.
“No. Barely even a little bit.”
“I want you to come home, my flower.”
“I love you too.”
With that, Diana hung up the phone, walking back up the steps to the mansion. Jenny heard Diana sob. Gasping tears, and loud sniffles. Jenny felt a little bit guilty, listening into something that Diana thought was private. But then again, considering what she had just witnessed, it was hard to feel any real sympathy. Diana’s crying settled down, and Jenny listened closely as the door to the mansion was opened, and then shut.
She stayed hidden in the bushes for what felt like hours. It gave her time to think, to process everything she’d heard and seen. She knew that her bosses had a harem, they’d said so in the first interview. She figured it was like, some kinky power exchange thing. But what she saw, it was absolutely on another level. That girl didn’t even know what was going on. One second, she was threatening Diana, the next, she didn’t know who the royalty WAS. It reminded her of something she’d seen at a stage show once. Hypnosis. Only, instead of forgetting the number 4, the girl had forgotten… who knows how much. Maybe if she liked it, that would have been alright… But that girl didn’t want to be what the owners of the mansion wanted her to be. So, she was discarded. That was fucked up. That’s when Jenny knew. She had to get the hell away from this place before she ended up like Carol. Or what if she already had, and couldn’t remember?
She didn’t want to raise suspicions, if they thought she knew something, maybe they would…Who knows what they would do? So, Jenny decided she would have to stay for the rest of her contract. But trying not to raise suspicion didn’t stop Jenny from trying to learn how to protect herself. Whenever she went into town, she would go to a bookstore, or a library, and read about hypnosis, brainwashing, cult techniques, anything that might be useful for understanding what the Mistresses were doing to their playthings. She never bought anything, never checked a book out. She was certain, that, somehow, if she did, Jasmine or Diana would find out, and make her tell them what she had seen.
Staying at the mansion for those last few months was a nerve-wracking experience. At any moment Jenny was constantly certain she was about to be discovered. Looking for hidden inferences in everything that the Mistresses said to her. When, in her few weeks she’d been assigned to train Brandy, Jenny assumed it must have been a test, a way to trip her up. It worked; she’d had a meltdown on Brandy pretty much immediately. Jenny was certain she would be disposed of, have her memory erased, like that girl they were trying to make into a puppy. Or maybe have her desires changed so much that she’d never want to leave, like Carol. But nothing happened. On her last day, Jenny packed up, said her goodbyes, and left. Jasmine even wished her well and told her she could always request a letter of reference from either of them.
She’d left the country the next day. Fled the country, really, as dramatic as she knew that sounded. But it was the truth. Then she’d started on her next project. It took more than a year of solid work. Thanks to a few years at the mansion, at least she didn’t have to distract herself with a real job while she devoted herself to it. She’d started by searching for voice actresses on a website and finding someone who sounded as close to Diana as she could manage. Then, she had them record those words, the trigger phrase, ‘C’est Fini’. Even after that, it took months, learning how to use voice editing software. The actress was so close, but not perfect. Eventually, after many frustrating nights, it sounded exactly right. A faked recording of Diana. Jenny was doing everything she could to make sure that if Diana and Jasmine did mess with her mind, it would be undone. She played the recording for herself daily. She couldn’t be certain that it had worked of course. What if the trigger phrase was only used for that one girl? Plus, Jenny did know it wasn’t ‘really’ Diana. That might have reduced how effective the recording was. But it was her best chance at being certain she was truly herself.
For the next couple years, Jenny lived a quiet life. Living off the small fortune she had earned, staying mostly in her truck, or at hostels, having her mail sent to a box. It wasn’t exactly off the grid, but she was still paranoid about the idea that she would just be snatched up by agents of the Mistresses. She’d entertained fantasies, of course. She daydreamed about going back to the mansion, hooking up her recording to the PA, and playing it for everyone to hear. But she was certain if she did that, she would be lucky if brainwashing was all those two women put her through. She didn’t think they were capable of murder, but with their fortune, and their skill at hypnosis… Jenny couldn’t even imagine the sort of hell they would make her life into. It was a fantasy, nothing more. She escaped, and while she was there, tried to warn who she could, without risking herself. Small victories.
Then she saw Brandy. Jenny wasn’t certain, at first. It seemed like too much of a coincidence that Brandy would be all the way out here. It could have just been her eyes playing tricks on her. Plus, in that dress, with a completely different hairstyle, without glasses, a face just *covered* in make-up… Brandy was barely recognizable as the same woman. But Jenny was good with faces. It was absolutely her former mentee, and there was only one explanation for such a dramatic change.
Jenny went through a swirl of emotions. Some nostalgia, seeing Brandy, the comfort of seeing a friend after so long. But that was mingled with fury at what Diana and Jasmine had done to her friend. Brandy looked like a living doll. Of course, Jenny couldn’t restrain herself from feeling some annoyance with Brandy herself. *’I told you what they were like, why didn’t you leave? Come on, girl, I know you’re smarter than that!’* But then… hope, and a sense of righteousness filled Jenny’s heart, and she knew what she had to do. It was… fate, or something. A chance to save one other person.
It wasn’t hard to tail Brandy. Her new appearance made her stand out. Even more luckily, she seemed to just be doing the tourist thing. Jenny watched Brandy pick a café, order a latte, and sit down outside. Jenny knew it was her best, maybe her only chance. What if Brandy wasn’t here alone? Jasmine or Diana could show up at any moment and ruin this. She stepped up behind Brandy, and pressed play on her recording.
“Augh…. What the… owwww!” Brandy suddenly had a splitting headache. She shut her eyes tight and rubbed her head on both sides with the palms of her hands. It took a moment for the pain to fade, and she started to look around… she didn’t recognize where she was at all… She was sitting in a metal chair, outside, in a city. Nothing looked familiar. She was sitting outside some kind of coffee shop? Everything felt so… off. Where were her glasses? She wasn’t wearing them, but could still see…She was wearing contacts! She never wore contacts, no wonder she had a headache. Brandy went to brush some of her hair behind her ears, and that’s when she realized she was wearing a wig. She idly went to pull it off, but it was so firmly attached that she stopped immediately. Brandy looked down at herself. She didn’t recognize the outfit she was wearing either. It was gorgeous, though. Had…she been drugged, or something? How did she get here? Why was she dressed like this?
The pain in her head pulsed again, distracting her.
“Hey, Brandy, are you feeling, okay?” Brandy opened her eyes and looked across the little table she was sitting at. The woman sitting in the chair opposite her was attractive, in an intimidating way. So many piercings all over her face. A leather coat, with belts and chains all over the place. A real punk vibe. Maybe if her head didn’t hurt so much, Brandy would have been more on guard, but it was hard to even focus enough to feel worried…The woman across the table was looking at Brandy with some real concern, a hand reached out on the table towards her, “Do you need some water, or like, painkillers or something?”
“…no, I don’t… think so.” Brandy pressed her hands against her temples. The headache wasn’t fading. Had she hit her head? Was this what having a concussion was like? “Where am I?”
“Shit, yeah, I was worried about that,” the woman said. “We’re at a coffee shop in Venice.”
Brandy’s heart skipped a beat.
“V-venice? How… how did I get to Venice?”
“Right, yeah, okay, uh… what’s the last thing you *do* remember clearly?”
Brandy strained her memory, everything was so foggy, and focusing too hard made the headache come back… but eventually, something seemed right.
“I umm.. I think… I got fired?”
“From the mansion?”
“What… what mansion?”
“Shit! Seriously!? You forgot that much!? You… don’t remember me at all?” Brandy tried hard to focus on the face of the woman sitting across from her. She seemed nice enough. At the least, she looked worried, and her concern seemed genuine… but she didn’t seem at all familiar.
“No, I… I don’t think so. Sorry, have we met before? I can be really bad with names sometimes.”
The punk sighed heavily and rubbed both her eyes.
“I’m Jenny. We worked together for a while. I like to think we were friends.”
“I don’t remember working with you, sorry. Was this at the grocery store?”
“No, at the…” she breathed in deeply, “So, I’m gonna tell you what’s going on. From the start. It’s gonna sound fucking insane. But, I promise, if you just… listen to what I tell you, everything’ll make sense, okay?”
Brandy nodded and Jenny started talking. She was right, it did sound ‘fucking insane’. Jenny told Brandy about a mansion owned by a pair of lesbians, who were rich enough to do whatever twisted thing their hearts desired. This included a harem, a collection of sex slaves. They hypnotized and brainwashed the slaves, transforming them into whatever they wanted. Jenny told Brandy that they had both worked there, at this mansion, as maids, but that was literally YEARS ago, and she hadn’t seen Brandy since then…until today. Seeing Brandy dressed and made-up like a doll made Jenny know immediately what must have happened, that Brandy must have been under the influence of those “bitches”, one of the kinder names Jenny insisted on calling them.
“…So yeah, I followed you for a bit, to make sure that you weren’t with either of them, and when you sat down, I played that recording I made. Undid everything they did to your head, at least, as far as I can tell.”
Brandy sat quietly, for a time. It was a lot to process. It seemed impossible, but there was this massive gap in her memory, and every time she tried to think about it, she got a headache that encouraged her to stop. Jenny’s story explained a lot, like why she was dressed more extravagantly than anything she would ever have been able to buy on her own. Also, why she was in Italy. Plus, something else she had noticed while Jenny started talking. Something that would require more privacy to confirm. So it all added up, and Jenny didn’t seem like a liar, or a crazy person.
“…I… I get where you were coming from, but, honestly, I wish you hadn’t.”
“But, you…” Jenny stared blankly, and then furrowed her brow, “You weren’t YOU.”
“I’m me now, right? And everything you talked about? Sounds… nice to me. It makes sense that I wanted that...”
Jenny sputtered, at a complete loss for words. Then, after taking a deep breath, “…I’m sorry, I thought-” She put her head in her hands. “Fuck, shit. I did the thing I was mad at THEM about. Thinking I knew better what someone should be like… Shit. I’m so sorry Brandy.” She did… seem apologetic, but it was hard to really connect to this… stranger. Especially considering the situation.
“It’s fine, just undo whatever you did.” It wasn’t really fine, of course, but Brandy just wanted this entire ordeal over with.
“What do you mean you can’t!?” A few heads turned in their direction, but didn’t seem to understand what they were talking about.
“It, it doesn’t work that way! I only learned how to undo the stuff they did!”
“Okay, just… get me back to… what did you say their names were? Diane and Jasmine?”
“Diana,” Jenny corrected.
“Diana, right, okay. If anyone knows how to… undo this, it’s them, right? So just like… help me get back to them, and they’ll fix all this!”
“Oh, no, I am not going anywhere NEAR those madwomen ever again.” She sounded terrified and started looking up and down the street. “Especially not after this… they’ll… who knows what they’ll do to me! Look, they’re… they wouldn’t have let one of their playthings go too far. They’re probably gonna come looking for you any minute now. I can’t be here when they do.”
“You aren’t even going to *try* to help me fix this?! You…you said we were friends, and you’re just going to…leave me here?” Brandy’s heart sunk.
“I’m really sorry, I hope one day you forgive me, but… I can’t, I just can’t get wrapped up with them, not again.” Jenny stood up, gathering her bag into her arms, loosely, carelessly. She started backing away, as if Brandy were a snake, that could strike her at any moment. “I doubt it’s worth shit coming from me, after all this, but… I really hope it all works out. It was nice seeing you again. Good luck.” She set off at a brisk pace and vanished into the city.
Brandy thought about getting up and chasing after Jenny. But what if she was right? What if those women she talked about came looking for her? She was sort of like… their pet, or something, right? And when you’re lost, aren’t you supposed to stay in one place? So, Brandy stayed in her seat, and waited, sipping on her latte, waiting for someone to come for her. She waited, watching the people passing by on the street. Watching anyone who walked towards the coffee shop especially closely, hoping to see recognition on their faces. Night fell. Streetlights turned on.