Hope

Not for those under 18 (or whatever the legal age for this sort of stuff is in your area). If you’re not that old, Boo! Go away now. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of sexual activities, especially non-consensual ones, then don’t read this. All characters and situations are fictional.

Copyright 2024 greyscribbler@yahoo.com

Archived on the Read Only Mind web site by permission of the author. This story may be downloaded for personal archiving as long as this notice is retained.

Now

Hannah sat in front of the mirror, the lights around its edge a steady glow. She simply sat there, unmoving, her eyes fixed on her image. Most of her makeup was already in place. Subtle and elegant. Eyeshadow to make her blue eyes pop. Rouge to add to the delicate edge of her cheekbones.

People had always said that she had good cheekbones. She’d liked that, even if it had embarrassed her. Now she wished that they hadn’t said a thing. That no-one had ever said how pretty she was. Maybe if she wasn’t pretty it would have made a difference.

She was beautiful, her dirty blonde hair tumbling artfully around her shoulders, the neckline of her little black dress plunging temptingly low across her chest. The image simmered back at her; a beautiful young woman ready for the night. Even if there was something about her eyes.

Her makeup wasn’t quite finished, but Hannah still sat there. Silent. Unmoving. It was a tiny act of rebellion. She knew that it wouldn’t last, but she counted every second as a victory. One, two, three, four, five. Her hand trembled, Hannah almost clutching it into a fist. But she couldn’t risk damaging her nails, however much she might have wanted to. The trembling ran up her arm, the lights around the mirror flickering off the red lacquer of her nail polish.

Hating herself, even though she knew that it would happen, Hannah’s hand grabbed the lipstick that lay on the table, the tremors in her arm and hand ceasing immediately.

No! the word echoing through her mind. No, no, no.

It didn’t matter, her other hand unscrewing the lid, her first hand raising the tube to her mouth where it applied layer after layer of glossy red coating to her now pouting lips. Until those lips were wet and glistening. Still elegant, but enough to make her look like what she was.

Hannah padded away the excess until her lipstick, like the rest of her makeup, was perfect. Still not rising from her seat, she glanced left and right, where her friends sat in front of identical mirrors. To her left, Zoe, her fellow blonde, shorter but with hair paler than Hannah’s. To her right Madison, the redhead’s eyes fixed on her own image. Like Zoe’s were.

Like Hannah, their long hair tumbled past their shoulders. Like her, they were beautiful, their makeup perfect, their dresses short and revealing.

The three girls simply sat there. Unmoving, Waiting.

Silent.

---

Then

“This is so cool!” Zoe cried from the front seat of the car, almost bouncing in her seat.

“Seriously girl?” Madison snorted. “We’re not even there yet.”

“Well, if you’d drive faster,” the blonde shot back. “We might be.”

“Give her a break, Zoe,” Hannah chipped in from the back seat. “She’s not driving that slow.”

“And I’m not driving that fast either,” the redhead observed. “I’m not going to be pulled over by some hick sheriff. Well, ma’am that’ll be a one hundred dollar fine or you can blow me.”

“Madison!” Hannah cried as Zoe dissolved into laughter.

“Eh,” Madison shrugged. “I know some of these two-bit towns. Just, awful.”

“The place we stopped for lunch wasn’t too bad,” Hannah pointed out.

“That’s why I stopped there,” the redhead responded. “Anyway, it’s only another couple of hours.”

“The snow’ll be up?” Zoe asked hopefully. “We might even be able to get a run in today.”

“Yeah, should be time for that,” Madison laughed, shooting Hannah a look in the rear vision mirror, her green eyes rolling in derision. “Don’t wear yourself out though. There’re the nights as well.”

It was Madison who had suggested the trip for their end of year break from college. A ski lodge her family had been to. Snow and fun and cute guys. Hannah didn’t know how much she’d take advantage of the last of those, no matter the picture Madison had painted of log fires and expensive alcohol. Zoe had agreed immediately, jumping at the chance. Hannah had taken longer to agree, but it had sounded like an adventure.

They’d be there soon.

---

Now

How long ago had that been? Hannah could clearly remember sitting in the back of the car. Zoe’s hair barely brushing the blonde’s shoulders as she turned to look out the window. Now Zoe’s hair was a foot past that, or more. So a year, at least. Hannah didn’t want to think about that. About what had happened in that time. She couldn’t remember it all, so many holes in her memory.

So many things she couldn’t remember. So many things she couldn’t do.

Hannah clung to what she could do. She could turn her head, look at her friends. Unlike hers, Zoe’s dress was white and short and lacy, the v of its neckline diving between the blonde’s slight breasts. Zoe’s legs were encased in delicate white stockings. Underneath that dress would be matching lacy lingerie. Hannah knew that. Underneath her dress was a similarly skimpy set, hers in black like her dress, bra and panties and a garter belt for her dark stockings. Zoe’s four-inch heels were white as well. Hannah’s were just as tall, if black like the rest of her outfit.

Zoe’s hands were resting on her thighs, her long fingernails painted in white lacquer, the blonde’s blue eyes fixed on the mirror.

Hannah made herself look to the right.

She could do that.

There was so little she could do.

Madison’s dress was red. Her wavy hair had grown as much as Zoe’s had. As much as Hannah’s had. Like her friends, the redhead’s dress was short and tight and showed off her slim figure. If anything, the neckline of Madison’s dress plunged even lower than Zoe’s, the tip of the gap reaching almost reaching her waist. The dress clung to her form. It was shorter too than Zoe’s, the tops of Madison’s stockings showing as the redhead simply sat there, the end of the garter holding up the nearest one clearly visible, lying against the pale flesh of her thigh. Like her two friends, Madison wore high heels, hers red, their height the same as the other two. The neckline of the dress dove so low that she couldn’t wear a bra. Her panties would be red, just as lacy and skimpy as her friends’ but unlike them her stockings didn’t match, Madison’s pair a smoky grey. Her pose mirrored Zoe’s, the lacquer of her nails an even brighter shade than Hannah’s.

Zoe and Madison sat there, gazing at their mirrors, makeup highlighting their beauty, their chests, clearly outlined in the tight dresses, slowly rising and falling, hands resting on their thighs.

Hannah didn’t bother saying anything to her friends.

She knew that they wouldn’t answer.

---

Then

“Hey!” Zoe cried as Madison pulled the car over to the side of the road. “Why are you stopping?”

“There’s something wrong,” the redhead replied as the car came to a halt, the sound of the engine dying away.

Hannah couldn’t stop herself leaning forward to peer at the dashboard. Not that it told her anything. “Er, what is it?” she managed.

“I don’t know!” Madison snapped. “Stupid thing,” she added, hitting the steering wheel after trying to restart the car. She tried, and failed, again.

“Ah,” Zoe ventured cautiously. “Won’t that flood it?”

Madison simply rewarded their friend with a glare.

“Well,” Hannah asked. “What do you we do now?”

“How I should I know?” Madison responded grumpily.

“We call someone,” Zoe declared, pulling out her phone. “Hey, there’s no reception.” The blonde swivelled to glare at the redhead. “You said there’d be reception!”

“I said there’d be reception at the lodge,” Madison pointed out. “I didn’t say anything about here. I’m not the one that always has my phone out.”

Zoe was already out of the car, waving her phone about while staring at the screen.

“We could try walking somewhere,” Hannah suggested. “That last town didn’t look that small.”

“Do you know how long that would take?” Madison’s scoffed. “Look, just give it a few minutes and I’ll try the car again. And even if that doesn’t work, this road’s not that deserted. We can flag someone down.”

Hannah regarded her friend uncertainly. She had visions of some psycho finding them.

In the end, they had to try Madison’s suggestion of waiting, whatever Hannah’s doubts, the car stubbornly resisting the redhead’s attempts to restart it.

---

Now

Hannah found her eyes slipping to her image in the mirror, her hands settling on her thighs, her pose echoing that of her friends.

No!

Desperately, she struggled with hands, trying to get them to do anything other than what they wanted to do. Finally, she managed to clasp them in her lap. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A small victory, but a victory just the same, something she could cling to. She wanted another one.

Hannah turned her head, trying not to look in the mirror. She didn’t want to look at her friends. Didn’t want to be reminded of how they ignored her. It wasn’t that they were unaware of her presence. Hannah knew that much. It was that she simply didn’t matter to them. They didn’t matter to each other. All that mattered to them was how they looked.

And what the night would hold.

Hannah didn’t want to think about that.

---

Then

“I thought you said this road wasn’t deserted,” Zoe commented grumpily from her perch on the hood.

“Seriously?” Madison shot back. “It’s only been what? Five minutes? Give it a chance.”

“Here’s one now!” Hannah called, waving at a car approaching from the direction they’d come.

“What if it’s some sort of psycho?” Zoe piped up, a worried tone in the blonde’s voice.

Madison sighed. “You watch too many horror flicks.”

Hannah stopped her waving, unsure of what to do as she remembered her own doubts. Her heart was in her mouth as the car slowed to a stop, but then she relaxed as she saw a woman, a brunette not much older than them, behind the wheel.

“Well?” Madison snapped impatiently as Hannah just stood there. “Of for…”

The redhead stomped over to the newcomer. The car had come to a stop too far away for Hannah to hear what was said as Madison leant forward to talk to its driver. But she could see her friend pointing at their car and shrugging her shoulders.

To her surprise, the woman exited the car, retrieving a handbag which she slung over her shoulder.

“Car trouble?” the woman asked as she and Madison approached the friends’ car. A sympathetic look hung on the woman’s features, features that were wide-eyed and pretty, in just that sort of innocent girl next door type of way.

“Uh, yeah?” Hannah shrugged.

“And no luck with the phones?” the newcomer added, nodding at where Zoe was again waving hers around fruitlessly.

“No,” Madison grumbled. “Useless phone companies.”

“They can be bad out here. Let me try and if that doesn’t work then I can give you a lift back to town.” With that she started rummaging through her handbag.

Hannah froze in place as the woman pulled her hand out. It wasn’t holding a phone. It was holding a gun. Neither of her friends saw. Madison had her back to the brunette, gazing sullenly at their car. Zoe was still engrossed in her vain attempts to get her phone working.

Before Hannah could say anything the woman fired, twice, once at Madison and then at Zoe. The redhead crumpled to her knees; a look of shock etched on her features before falling on her face. Behind her, Hannah could hear Zoe sliding from the car. She couldn’t believe what was happening. It couldn’t be real.

The woman smiled at her, thinly, her look no longer holding any of that innocent charm of a moment before.

Then she pulled the trigger again.

---

Now

Hannah’s hands clasped tighter as they lay in her lap. She’d gone over the scene so many times. Wondering if there was some signal she should have picked up. Some sign of what was going to happen. But even now she couldn’t think of anything. There’d been nothing, nothing, to tell her that the woman was anything other than what she’d looked like. Someone about their age, someone like them. Nothing threatening about her. Nothing to tell them what was waiting for them.

---

Then

Hannah swam back to consciousness. For a moment she thought she was dead. But then she realised that she was still lying by the side of the road, the gravel pressing into her side where she’d fallen. She tried to move, tried to speak, panic rising in her as she realised that she couldn’t. Was she paralysed? Bleeding to death?

Something swam in her vision, Hannah struggling to focus. Two women, neither of them the one who’d shot them, were carrying the limp figure of Zoe past her. The women were young and pretty, like the one who’d been driving the car. Like her, they were dressed casually, just jeans and runners and loose tops. Nothing that would mark them out. Unless you looked at their pretty faces. Saw their blank expressions and the empty, vacant, looks in their eyes.

“Have you removed the disabling device from the car?” That voice Hannah did recognise. It was the woman with the gun. Hannah couldn’t see her, but she was sure it was her. She struggled to make sense of the woman’s words. Disabling device? Was that why their car had failed? Had this been planned?

“Yes controller,” another voice replied. This one was flat and empty as the eyes of the women who’d been carrying Zoe. “Device retrieved.”

“Would they have made any phone calls?” the first woman asked.

“Negative controller,” the flat voice replied. “Mobile phone blocker active.”

“Good,” the brunette declared. “Get these other two into the van. We need to get out of here. You take their car.”

“Yes controller.”

Hannah felt herself roughly lifted from the ground. She stared up into the face of one of the women who’d been carrying Zoe.

Put me down! No! Please! What’s going on? A million thoughts rushed around her head, chasing each other in her rising panic. They weren’t dead, but that was the only good thing Hannah could see. They were being kidnapped, who knew why or by whom. And the blank, empty look on the face of the woman holding her shoulders sent a shiver down to the core of Hannah’s soul.

It sounded like their car had been rigged so that it could be stopped when they hit a deserted stretch of road. When had that happened? When they’d stopped for lunch? Had they been driving since then, unaware of what was planned for them? Hannah tried to move, even a finger, but failed. She could just see a plain white van that she was being carried towards, the motionless figures of Madison and Zoe lying in the back.

Pain shot through Hannah as she was roughly dumped on the floor of the van. The face of the shooter loomed over her. The woman’s eyes weren’t empty like the others’. But there was something distant, remote about them. “Still awake? Well, let’s top you up.”

There was a sharp pain in Hannah’s thigh and she knew nothing more.

---

Now

Behind her, Hannah heard the door to the room open.

Zoe leapt to her feet, squealing in delight, “Mistress!” as she almost jumped up and down in enthusiasm. It was such a contrast to how still her friend had been as she’d sat there ignoring Hannah. If anything, that made it worse.

Madison had risen as well, not saying anything, but her pretty features sported a wicked smile as she faced the woman who had entered the room.

Hannah knew that she should stand up. Turn and face the newcomer. Her brain was pounding with the need to do that, tiny tendrils running through her mind, urging her to stand, to turn around, to smile.

To obey.

She sat there, her hands almost forming into fists. Almost. She couldn’t damage her nails. Hannah hatred herself that she couldn’t fight that.

“We all ready?” the woman asked. It almost sounded kind, warm and encouraging and friendly.

Hannah wasn’t fooled.

“Oh, yes, Mistress,” Zoe beamed happily as Madison said, “Fuck, yeah.”

The woman, the one Zoe called Mistress, the one the urges told Hannah that she should obey, even as she tried to fight them, smiled condescendingly at the redhead. “Don’t swear, dear, it’s unbecoming. This establishment is above such things.”

“Sorry, Mistress,” that word now falling from Madison’s lips as well. “It’s just. God, I want it. So much.” The words were almost a sigh, the longing, the need, pouring from her friend.

The woman patted Madison lightly on the cheek before turning to Hannah. “And the last of our little group. Stand up, Hannah.”

That was the last thing Hannah wanted to do. Because it was the woman who had told her to. I don’t have to obey, she told herself, fighting the urge to rise. Her muscles tightened, the need to stand up, to do what she been told to do, rising in her mind, burying everything else. I’m still me. Still thinking of how to get out of this. She held on to that, as the need rose around her like a raging sea. Until it was too much and, defeat tearing at her, Hannah stood and turned around and smiled.

“There we are,” the woman smiled with that condescending smile that Hannah had grown to hate. “Little Hannah, doing as she’s told. Doesn’t it feel so good to obey?”

---

Then

Hannah’s eyes flew open as consciousness returned, panic and relief mixing in her mind. She had woken up. At least that meant she was alive. But where was she? What had happened to her and her friends?

After a moment, Hannah realised that she was lying in a bed. In a room she didn’t recognise. That was no surprise. She had been kidnapped. The room told her little. Pale, sterile walls, fluorescent light in the ceiling. She went to stand up. Maybe she could find some way to escape. Find her friends.

She was still lying on her bed.

Another wave of panic surged through Hannah. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t as much as twitch a finger. All she could do was blink. She could feel the sheet lying across her body. What might be a loose shift or a hospital gown. What had happened to her clothes? Had someone stripped her? What else had they done?

Why can’t I move? Hannah thought despairingly.

Were Zoe and Madison in the same situation? They couldn’t be in the room. Even without being able to move her head, Hannah could tell that it was too small for more than one bed.

Hannah’s heart leapt to her mouth as she heard the door open. She couldn’t do anything, couldn’t defend herself. She willed herself to move.

“Stand up,” whoever had entered the room said. Hannah didn’t recognise the voice. But it was as flat and empty as those of the women who’d carried her to the van.

I can’t move so good luck… Whoa! What?

Without any thought on her part, Hannah had risen from the bed. She wanted to cry out, but her lips wouldn’t move. She couldn’t even frown at the other woman. Who was a pretty brunette dressed casually in jeans and sweatshirt. The woman looked Hannah over, just once.

The woman simply said “Follow,” before spinning on her heel and leaving the room.

In her head, Hannah screamed at her legs not to move. Or maybe to run, past the woman, out the door. They did neither, simply following in the woman’s wake, taking Hannah with them, out into a corridor that was just as bland as her room. Then past other doors, Hannah wondering if they led to rooms like the one she’d found herself in. Maybe her friends were behind them. She wanted to call out, but her voice wouldn’t answer her thoughts.

“You will be wondering why you are obeying me,” the woman said, not looking over her shoulder at Hannah. Her voice was still so flat but filled with certainty. Not a question about whether Hannah was thinking that but an awful knowledge. “Subliminals were played while you slept and specific drugs administered intravenously. This has ensured your current level of compliance.”

What? No! No! No! Hannah tried to tell herself that this was some awful dream. That she’d wake up and find herself in the ski lodge. What was happening couldn’t be real, her mind spinning, panic ripping her thoughts apart.

“You will also be wondering why I am informing you of this.”

Hannah’s stomach fell further at the predictability of her own thoughts.

“The subject’s knowledge of her situation and its hopelessness has been found to help in further conditioning.”

Conditioning? Is that like brainwashing? Fuck! Help! Someone help me!

The woman stopped in front of a door before opening it. “You will be led along this corridor and conditioned every day.”

Hannah would grow to hate that walk.

---

Now

“It’s time,” the woman Zoe had called Mistress declared. The short blonde actually bounced up and down, clapping her hands while Madison simply smiled thinly.

Hannah’s heart sank.

The woman led them down a corridor. It wasn’t like the one Hannah had found herself in after being kidnapped. Bare cinder block walls, simple lighting. Hannah knew it so well. She’d walked it so many times. Following this woman or one of her other servants.

One by one, the woman directed them through doors. First Zoe, then Madison, and finally Hannah.

Hannah knew exactly where she was going. What she was supposed to do. What she would do.

She found herself on a small stage. Her stage. Lights ringed the edge the stage, where it sat above the floor. Other lights shone on her, picking her out, almost blinding her. Hannah didn’t need to see to know where she was. A club, nothing dingy or cheap, but elegant, expensive fittings. Beautiful.

Like her.

There was music playing. Hannah knew what she had to do. Was doing it, even as she screamed at her body to stop.

She was dancing, body swaying rhythmically to the music, tossing her head seductively, her long hair flying free, one hand running slowly over her hip before both arms stretched invitingly over her head.

Not stripping. That wasn’t what she was.

Even though she couldn’t see them through the lights, Hannah could feel the eyes of so many women on her. That was what the club was. For women of certain tastes. With sufficient means. Where they could indulge themselves.

Hannah wanted to stop, wanted to scream out. She couldn’t.

Worse than that, arousal was spreading through her body. Why was this turning her on? Displaying herself, obeying.

She’d done this so many times, every time her body betraying her in its excitement.

Hannah tried to make her feelings show on her features. Her disdain for the women. Her hatred at what had happened to her.

She wasn’t sure that she could even get her body to do that much.

---

Then

Inside the room Hannah found herself grabbed by the arms by two other women and dragged towards something that looked like a cross between a dentist’s chair and an acceleration couch from some high-end sci-fi production. Whatever it was, she didn’t like the look of it all.

“Soon you will enter the chair when ordered,” the woman explained. “Once your will has been sufficiently compromised.”

Hannah barely took in the words. She was desperately trying to struggle against the women holding her. But her attempts were feeble, the only response her body made a tremble she doubted her captors even noticed.

Let me go! Please! This can’t be happening. No!

Hannah was lifted onto the chair, gleaming metal bindings and leather straps holding in her in place. She almost wondered why they bothered. She couldn’t move, couldn’t resist. A tear rolled down her cheek as headphones were placed over her ears. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw an IV wheeled into place, a prick on her arm as a large screen was lowered in front of her eyes.

As a coloured spiral appeared on the screen, her thoughts dissolved.

---

Now

The lights around the edge of Hannah’s stage dimmed. As her eyes adjusted, Hannah could see a woman standing there. She’d never seen the woman before. At least, she didn’t think she had. Sometimes she remembered the women. But her memory was suspect and she wondered what was still being taken away from her.

It didn’t matter. She knew what the woman wanted.

The woman looked to be in her forties, almost old enough to be Hannah’s mother, dark-haired and ice-cold. She was wearing an expensive dress, royal blue, something chic and elegant. It matched the woman’s haughty expression and perfect hair and makeup. Her figure was decent and her looks definitely attractive. Someone who would be at home in a boardroom. Someone who knew what she wanted. And was used to getting it.

Right then, it was clear she wanted Hannah.

The woman had her arms folded, a thin smile on her lips.

She didn’t have to say anything. Hannah knew what she was supposed to do.

Just for a moment, she didn’t do it. She looked back into the woman’s eyes. Let everything she could show in her own. How much she hated this. How much she despised the woman. How she wasn’t just some eager little plaything simply doing what she was told.

Hannah was rewarded by the woman’s smile momentarily turning into a frown. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Something that told Hannah that she was still herself. That she could win a little victory at least. And maybe, if she could win little victories, she could win larger ones.

But the moment passed, and the woman’s smile returned, amusement flashing in her eyes.

Hannah couldn’t resist any longer. She knew what she had to do. The leash on her mind was too tight, the need to obey too strong.

She stepped off the stage, the woman not needing to say a single thing to Hannah to have her following along as she was led to a table.

Hannah hated the arousal that simple obedience sparked in her centre.

As she followed the woman she saw Zoe, her friend in one of the booths, sitting on the lap of an older brunette, the other woman’s hand up under the hem of Zoe’s short dress. Zoe was giggling, a flush to her cheeks. The brunette wasn’t even looking at Hannah’s friend as she casually felt her up, her attention held by a conversation with another woman in the booth. Zoe didn’t seem to notice at all, squirming in the woman’s lap, her eyelids fluttering, as the woman’s hand reached deeper under her dress.

Hannah saw Madison as well, her other friend being led by the hand by a blonde about the same age as them. There was something about the other woman that reeked of privilege. Maybe it was the dress or her jewellery or just the way she held herself. It didn’t matter. Hannah knew what they were going to do, the blonde leading Madison towards a door that led further into the club. From the hungry, eager, look in Madison’s eyes it looked like the redhead did too.

---

Then

Hannah didn’t need to be dragged into the chair now. She climbed into it when told. She’d even stopped telling herself not to. Simply lay there as she was strapped down. She wondered why they still bothered with that. It wasn’t like she resisted. She didn’t struggle against her bonds.

She wasn’t even sure that she remembered what resistance was.

She couldn’t remember how many days it had been. How many times she’d walked down that corridor. How many times she’d been strapped into the chair. Drugs she didn’t know being pumped into her body, sounds she couldn’t quite hear flowing into her ears. Dissolving her thoughts, her will, her very sense of self. It all melted together, her thoughts shattering as the spiral spun before her eyes.

She was becoming more obedient.

More than that, every act of obedience now had a delicious edge to it. Her body betraying her, delicate tendrils of arousal coursing through her, as she followed the woman, as she climbed into the chair. As she watched the spiral.

It wasn’t always a spiral on the screen. There were images as well. Hannah couldn’t remember when the images had begun.

Hannah hated the images. Images of women. So many women. At first, just one woman at a time, dressed. But then images showing them with less and less clothes. More provocatively posed. Then women together. Kissing. Cuddling. Hands caressing breasts through skimpy tops, through bras. Hands roaming elsewhere. Over naked flesh. Lips wrapping around taut nipples. Tongues slipping between damp folds. The images replaced by videos, women pleasuring each other, fucking each other, the raw need of the women spilling from the screen, into Hannah’s mind.

Hannah hated the arousal that coursed through her as the images played on the screen. But it was there, undeniable. She was sure that words were seeping from the headphones. Telling her how much the images turned her on. Telling her how much she wanted to be doing what the women in those images were doing. Telling her how much she wanted women. Telling her how much she wanted sex with women. Telling her how aroused she was. And maybe it was the images or maybe it was the words or maybe it was the drugs that were still pumped into her arm or maybe it was the vibrator in her pussy, and the one strapped to her clit, that had her body melting in need. Maybe it was all of it. Maybe, a treacherous little voice told her, it was her. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t deny what she felt.

So was so turned on, writhing in her bonds, need raging in her body. Wishing, despite herself, that it was her those lips and tongues and fingers were exploring.

God, if only she could cum.

---

Now

The woman Hannah was following seated herself at a table. Gracefully, without haste. There were other women at the table. They greeted the woman.

They paid no attention to Hannah at all.

The woman did, finally speaking to Hannah. “Under the table. You know what to do.”

Hannah did. She didn’t want to, but she did. She paused, just for a moment, another little victory. Her eyes met those of the woman, who just raised an eyebrow in expectation. For a moment, Hannah glared back at her. But then she fell to her knees and crawled under the table, humiliation burning in her. Just before she lost sight of the woman Hannah caught a smirk of satisfaction on her face.

She knew what she had to do. The woman had hiked the skirt of her dress up, pushed aside her elegant black lace panties. Hannah hadn’t even noticed her do that. The motion must have been refined and discreet. So many of the woman’s gestures would be like that.

It didn’t matter. The woman’s legs were parted. Hannah could see the woman’s vulva, her neatly trimmed landing strip. The woman’s pussy, her cunt. Cunt, Hannah made herself think, not sure whether it was the sight before her or the woman herself she was referring to. It didn’t help. She knew what she had to do.

Hannah edged forward, her tongue extended, a gentle lick laid on the waiting, glistening folds.

Above her, she could hear the conversation at the table. It was as if she didn’t exist.

She followed the lick with a kiss that was just as gentle.

She didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to lick that length. Lay delicate kisses on the woman’s opening. Swirl her tongue around the woman’s clit. Send her tongue deep between the moist folds and lick and lick and lick.

She wanted a cock. At least that’s what Hannah told herself. As she licked and sucked and kissed. Until the hot, wet need in her own body forced her to admit the truth. She didn’t want a cock. Oh, she wanted to want a cock. Not this. Never this. But wanting to want a cock wasn’t the same as wanting one. She wanted women. Wanted their bodies. Their breasts, the hips. Their lips, their eyes, their hair. Their thighs, their arses. The glory that lay between their legs. That’s who shew as now.

“Is she worth it?” a voice floated from above the table, someone finally acknowledging Hannah’s existence. “She looked, well, surly.”

“Yes. Oh yes, she’s worth it,” the woman she was pleasuring replied as she gripped Hannah’s hair and forced her face deeper into her centre. “Every cent.”

“Hmm. Maybe I shall try her myself then.”

Hannah’s pussy, already so hot and wet and slippery, melted a little more at the thought.

---

Then

Hannah was strapped in the chair again. But the screen wasn’t in front of her eyes. The headphones weren’t on her ears. And the vibrator wasn’t thrust into her pussy. Its companion wasn’t strapped to her clit.

She missed that. It made her feel so good. She could forget where she was and just slip away.

Not today.

“Hi, Hannah,” a voice greeted her brightly. It was Zoe. Hannah hadn’t seen her friend in so long. Hadn’t known whether she was alive or dead.

And now Zoe was just standing in front of her. With a bright smile on her lips. Zoe’s hands were clasped in front of her and her hips were swinging from side to side and she was wearing a pretty dress and heels that were so high and her dress with its pleated skirt was so short that Hannah could see the tops of Zoe’s white stockings and just a bit of the garters that held them up.

“Zoe?” Hannah managed groggily. Everything else might have been missing but the IV was still in her arm. “Are you okay? Help, help me up. We’ve got to, got to get out of here.”

Zoe frowned at her friend, a confused expression on her pretty features. “Like, why? This place, is so, so, fun. I don’t want to leave.”

There was someone else in the room, someone Hannah couldn’t see with her head strapped in place. A voice she’d never heard before, but one she’d grow to hate. “Don’t worry, Zoe. She doesn’t understand yet.”

“Oh,” Zoe frowned prettily. “That’s like, so sad.”

“I want you to help her out,” the other woman said, something sly and amused to her tone. “I want you eat her out.”

“Yay!” Zoe exclaimed, bouncing up and down and clapping, before scrambling to kneel between Hannah’s thrust apart legs. “Yummy!”

“Zoe!” Hannah cried. “You don’t have to do this!”

Zoe looked up, confusion again plain on her pretty features. Hannah could see her friend’s makeup now, all pink and glistening. “Like, why wouldn’t I? Eating pussy is super yummy.”

Something cold crept over Hannah. Maybe it was the drugs, or maybe it was everything else, that had made her so slow, but she only realised now that Zoe didn’t sound like herself. Her friend’s voice was just a little higher, more girly. The things she was saying. And the way she’d tossed and flicked her hair and cocked her hips matched her vapid words. It was Zoe kneeling in front of her. And somehow, in the way that mattered, it wasn’t.

“Let me up,” Hannah insisted. “We have to get out of here. You don’t want to do this. Don’t you remember college? You’re going to be an accountant.” Not whatever it was Zoe was now.

Zoe’s frown deepened. “Ac, accountant?” the petite blonde stumbled, as if she’d never heard the word before. “Is that, like counting? Uh, numbers? Numbers are hard. I don’t like numbers. They’re not fun.” The shorter blonde paused for a moment, an empty smile drifting across her pretty features. “Being pretty is fun. Looking super hot is fun. Having sex with girls is, like, super super yummy fun. So, like, why wouldn’t I want to be here? Can I eat her out now, Mistress? Please?”

“Of course, you can,” the woman replied condescendingly.

Something broke in Hannah as Zoe’s tongue found its way past her lower lips.

---

Now

It was one of the other women at the table, not the one who had first chosen her, who took Hannah home. Maybe the one who had asked about her. Hannah didn’t know.

The woman led her to the back of a limousine. Hannah thought she’d be made to kneel on the floor. Eat the woman out as they made their way through the city. She wasn’t even sure what city it was. No-one ever told her that. No-one thought it important for her to know.

But the woman didn’t do that, make Hannah kneel as she’d knelt before so many women. Instead, she had Hannah sit next to her. Placed her hand on Hannah’s knee, run that hand slowly up Hannah’s stocking-clad leg. Hannah cursed the way her centre cried out for the hand to reach higher. So much of her wanted the woman’s hand to reach under her skirt and find what lay there. She was so wet, the woman’s touch turning on her so much. She was obeying, and that turned her on even more, her nipples diamond hard.

Her arousal ratcheted even higher as the woman’s other hand caressed her chest.

“No,” the woman declared as Hannah went to return the gestures. “You just sit there.”

The woman smiled, thinly, as Hannah glared at her. Hannah wasn’t even sure why she was angry. Maybe it was at what the woman was doing to her. Maybe it was because she wanted to return those caresses, to feel the woman’s smooth skin under her fingertips. But she just sat there, and let the woman play with her, like a good little toy. Maybe she managed the occasional glare. She wasn’t sure. It was so hard, with how turned on she was.

Hannah was burning with need when they reached their destination, the woman leading her to an elevator, embracing her from behind, a moan drawn from Hannah’s throat.

And then to an expensive apartment. Was it the woman’s? Or just rented for the night? Hannah didn’t know. She never did.

“Take off your dress,” the woman ordered, then smiled thinly again as Hannah glared back at her. Another small victory, something for Hannah to cling to. She clenched her hands, refusing to strip for this woman.

“You’re delicious,” the woman grinned, a finger under Hannah’s chin lifting her head up. “You need it so much but I can see that look in your eye. You want to say no, but you can’t. Well, I’m letting you. Say ‘no’.”

“No,” Hannah replied.

“Say, ‘I don’t want this’.”

“I don’t want this.” She didn’t. She wanted to escape. To be free. To not just be a plaything for women far more powerful than she was.

“Tell me that you don’t want you to fuck me.”

“I don’t want you to fuck me,” Hannah replied, revelling in the bile and scorn as she poured into her words.

“Are you telling the truth?” the woman laughed. “Your voice says no. Your eyes are saying no. Dear God, I don’t think I’ve ever really understood what looking daggers means until right now. But the rest of you.” The woman’s hand slipped lower, gliding across Hannah’s chest. “You’re so wet right now, aren’t you, you little slut? You’re positively dripping.”

Hannah gasped as the woman’s hand found its way under her dress, traced the length of her opening through her sodden panties. She was wet, so, so wet. So wanting, so needy, despite what she’d said.

She still made herself stare pointedly at the woman whose finger was forcing the silk of her panties inside her.

“Like I said, delicious,” the woman laughed. “I can’t wait to find out how you taste. Now get that dress off and get on the bed.”

The time, Hannah couldn’t help herself. She had to obey, something tight wrapping around her mind, obedience and need and desire binding her. She knew what she had to do. could do it so well. She was so practiced now.

But through everything, through all the kisses and the passion and the intimate touches, through every use the woman made of her body, she could still glare back. Even when the woman produced a strap-on, buried it deep inside Hannah as she thrust away, Hannah clung to her little victories. Clung to the thought that if she could win those maybe she could win something larger. That maybe this would be the last time.

She had to believe that. Even as she came, the woman grinning in triumph as Hannah moaned in bliss, her back arching, she clung to the hope that maybe she could find a way out of this.

---

Then

“Why the fuck would I want to escape?”

Hannah was strapped in the chair again, legs spread and IV in her arm. It wasn’t Zoe before her this time though. It was Madison.

“Please, Madison,” Hannah begged. “You can’t mean that. She’s doing things to us, brainwashing us!”

“So?” Madison laughed. Like Zoe had, Madison was wearing a dress that was so short and heels that were so high. “I don’t fucking care. The sex is so fucking hot. I love pussy.”

Hannah’s friend may have been dressed like Zoe but her mannerisms, her voice, were her own. Maybe that made it worse.

“You can’t mean that!” Hannah insisted, struggling with her bonds. “She’s turned Zoe into some sort of bimbo!”

“Yeah,” Madison shrugged. “But she’s fucking hot. God, you should hear the sounds she makes when I fuck her arse. She sounds like a scalded kitten. She cums so hard I think she’s going to pass out. And she licks my pussy so good.”

“How, how,” Hannah spluttered. She couldn’t understand how Madison could say those things. So casually. Like it didn’t matter. Like Zoe didn’t matter.

“I just want to fuck” Madison replied. “I want pussy. Any pussy. I don’t care. I just want it. And now I’m going to have yours.”

“NO!” Hannah screamed. “No, please!” She struggled even harder, but her bonds refused to yield. This couldn’t be happening.

“I’ll just get her ready for you,” the woman, the one Zoe called ‘Mistress,’ said, placing the headphone over Hannah’s ears, as Madison stripped. As her friend produced a strap on, belted in place. Grinned evilly at Hannah as she slowly applied lube to its length.

Hannah’s thoughts shattered as Madison climbed on top of her, as the redhead grinned down at her, stared into Hannah’s eyes as she placed the tip of the dildo at Hannah’s opening. Kept her eyes locked on Hannah’s as she thrust in.

Hannah could see that it was Madison, could see her friend still there in her eyes, not some bimbo version of her, but Madison.

Maybe that was what broke her.

---

Now

“So, girls,” Mistress asked, hours later, Hannah, spent and used, having been returned to the club. “Did you have a good night?”

Hannah thought the sympathy in the woman’s voice was cloying and faked, but Zoe didn’t seem to notice. Why would she?

“Yes!” the petite blonde cried. “I ate three pussies! They were super yummy. And one of them told me that I looked pretty. Which was super nice of her.”

“Pussies, don’t talk,” Madison scoffed. “You brainless bimbo.”

“Don’t be a meany,” Zoe pouted, stomping a high-heeled foot. “I’m not mean to you.”

“There, there,” Mistress laughed. “I’m sure Madison didn’t mean it. But was it three? I thought it was four.”

Zoe frowned for a moment, then smiled vacantly. “I don’t know. Numbers are hard. But I sucked their boobies! I love sucking boobies!” The blonde bounced up and down, clapping her hands.

“That’s a good girl,” Mistress smiled benignly. “And you Madison?”

“Three for me,” the redhead shrugged. “Fuck, I love this. I can’t get enough.”

“What about the blonde?”

“Sonya?” Madison asked. “Didn’t exactly know her way around a pussy, But I showed her. I showed her good. She couldn’t move when I finished with her. She was here on a dare but she’ll be back. Fuck, the first time with a girl who thinks she’s straight is so fucking hot.” She shot Hannah a wicked grin. “Give me a few more times with her and she’ll never want cock again.”

“That’s my girl,” Mistress laughed. “Now you two just turn off for a moment while I talk to Hannah.”

Zoe’s and Madison’s heads drooped slightly before the pair froze in place, their eyes empty.

“You wonder,” Mistress smiled, turning to Hannah and ignoring the other two. “Don’t you? You wonder if they’re like you. If they still have the little gleam of hope that they might escape. Well, they don’t. They’re just a silly little bimbo and a pussy-hungry slut. A pair of whores who do everything I tell them to. Who don’t mind if I sell their pretty bodies to any woman who’ll pay for them. So they’re not who they used to be. But then, you’re not really you, are you?

---

Then

Hannah’s awareness of her surroundings faded in and out. Sometimes she was in her room, sometimes in the room with the chair. Sometimes the corridor that led between them. There was nothing else to her existence. Everything was unreal, her thoughts splintered, empty shards.

There was just obedience and need, one feeding the other. She was just an empty, shattered, ghost, drifting through what her life had become.

She didn’t object or complain or resist. Resistance was a dim, feeble memory at best, something she barely understood. Let only think about it. She didn’t want to think.

She couldn’t help feeling. Hot, wet arousal washing through her body. At the images she was shown, the videos. When women pleasured her. When she was taught how to pleasure them. What do with her lips, her tongue, her fingers. How to find their special places. How to have them moaning in bliss.

She didn’t think.

The only times thoughts forced their way to surface of what was left of her mind was when it was Zoe or Madison whose lips tightened around her nipples, whose fingers stroked her most intimate places. Whose tongues dived inside.

Each time, that broke her just a little more.

She was surprised she had anything left to break.

The words tumbled into her mind, from the headphones, from what the woman said to her.

Until the day that Zoe and Madison, together, took her, used her. In so many ways. For so long. She didn’t register Zoe’s happy, vacant smile or Madison’s knowing grin. Didn’t object. Didn’t resist.

There was nothing.

She was nothing.

“You’re ready now,” the woman said.

---

Now

Hannah didn’t know what ‘Mistress’ – oh how she hated that word – meant. Of course she was still her. Down at her core anyway. Still there. Still fighting. Eking out one little victory at a time. Waiting for the chance to escape.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the woman smirked, an elegant fingertip placed in the middle of Hannah’s forehead. “You’re thinking that you’re still you. That you can still win your little victories, resisting my orders and glaring at your customers. And you still hope that if you can win enough little ones you might just break free and escape.”

Hannah sucked in a breath, fear and shock rooting her to the spot. How did the woman know? Would she send Hannah back to the chair? Remove what little freedom she had?

“How do I know all that?” the woman laughed. “Because I put it there. When you were fully broken. Ready to make you into whatever I wanted.”

NO! Hannah screamed, suddenly unable to speak. No, no, no! It couldn’t be true. The woman couldn’t be allowing her this. She had her little bit of freedom, was trying to make it more. She had her hope.

“I gave you that hope,” the woman continued, Hannah teetering at the edge of a void. “Fixed it deep down inside of you. After I broke you. Because some women will pay more for a girl who isn’t quite willing. Who will do what she’s told but they can see the resentment in her eyes, just that little bit of fire. As they make her eat their pussy. As she lets them take her body however they want. As they ram the strap-on so deep into her cunt. I put that hope in there and even if you wanted to, you can’t let go of it.

NO! Hannah wailed. Her hope was all she had, all that was hers.

“Now,” the woman smiled, the smile so possessive. “You just forget this little conversation. Just as you’re forgotten it every other time.”

Hannah blinked. Had the woman, Mistress she thought, almost spitting the word – been saying something? She remembered her ordering her friends to freeze.

“Hannah how was your night?” the woman smiled, a knowing, satisfied, look.

“You know, damn you,” Hannah snapped. “You whored me out. You know what I did.”

If anything the woman’s smile broadened, her finger tracing across Hannah’s cheek. “And you enjoyed what you did. Enjoyed every delightful moment of it, didn’t you?”

Hannah didn’t say a work, simply glaring back, not wanting to confirm the truth of the woman’s words.

It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to give in. She’d won some more little victories tonight. With the looks and the glares she’d given. She still had her hope. That maybe, someday she could escape, rescue her friends, get them fixed.

She held on to that hope.

Because she had to.

She had to.

(The End)