"So this is where the magic happens?" Amelia clutches her notepad with nerves rising to the surface as she takes in the sight of an unassuming warehouse on the edge of town. The girl has absolutely no idea what to expect on the inside, for once her imagination fails her. 

The stranger once again finds themselves amused by this new plaything, watching as the studious girl takes notes on the journey and their location. "Strictly anonymous, remember? As I'm sure you can imagine, there are no signs outside for a reason." Stepping forwards, the redhead removes a key from their breast pocket and slides open the door with a hum. 

"R-right, these are just personal notes in case I feel threatened." Her eyes narrow on the stranger but soon soften and open wider when they step inside and the door is locked behind them. Being locked inside does not exactly set her at ease, but she understands that she cannot argue it. The warehouse interior is nothing so fanciful, a little underwhelming if anything, but then she notices the bars. The two step closer to a corner cell in which two familiar women stand with straightened backs in black corsets and glossy heels. Chains reach between cell bar and the collars situated around their necks, their eyes as blank and doll-like as they had been on the bench. "How long have they been here... like this? Today, I mean."

With a chuckle, the stranger reaches through the bars to cup one of the girl's cheeks, a line of drool spilling from between her lips when the malleable flesh is pushed lightly. "As long as they wanted. Which is as long as I wanted. It's still morning, so a few hours at most I imagine... I've not been in yet so I'd have to check. These girls know the rules well and like following them, so I don't always have to control them manually. You've seen that already, haven't you Amy? Want a breather to take your notes?"

The girl breathes in sharply, forgetting pen and paper for a moment as she watches that hand slip back from soft cheek and wonders how the two girls her age got into such a unique situation. Online kink exploration? People do sometimes meet up in person, but this seems to have gone to logical extreme. Even Amelia herself has perused forums for ill-planned meet ups that never happened, but that was a lifetime ago. Eventually doing as she's told and taking plenty of notes, Amelia gives the stranger a meek glance when she's ready to proceed. 

"Ah good, I told you I was a little behind schedule didn't I? Usually I'd drag these girls out and deepen their trance with some one on one time, if you see the area over there?" Amelia turns her head to view a dark cubbyhole with a bench against the wall and a hanging chain ready to have neck or wrists secured to at any time. "I'll have to show you that part tomorrow, dear. For now I'll take attendance, we usually do line ups this way, keep up." 

As Amelia follows behind, her curiosity and excitement rise in tandem with her apprehension and fear over what she's inadvertently stumbled upon here. Sure enough, there are plenty more women than the initial dolls she had spied upon. More cells, playrooms, bedrooms. None of them look like much from the outside in such a dim warehouse, but as she peeks through a few open doors she notes that they don't look half bad on the inside. When Amelia stares into one of the rooms for too long, a slave covered from head to toe in latex black as night notices and slowly closes the door. 

"Just what is this place, sir?" The girl knows that her guide loves when she speaks with due reverences and so appeases them for her own interests. 

"You can call it Eden, if you like. A paradise of sorts, but also a place of sin and dark temptation. Fitting isn't it? Finding yourself tempted to bite the apple, Amy?" 

"Keep on calling me that and I'll be biting something." The girl retorts, reaching another wall with a few old sofas lining the wall behind them and to the sides of the the two offices that box this area in. "Casting couch? No thanks."

"You're so crass. Nothing of the sort... here, watch." Smug as ever, the stranger steps over to their office's exterior wall and presses down on the mounted intercom. "Assembly time, girls. Seven and Twelve, go ahead and see to any who can't make their own way here alright? I've got a guest."

While she'd like to be taking more notes, sometimes Amelia can't take her eyes of the enigmatic stranger and their alien lifestyle. It's mesmerising, in a way, trying to piece things together from such unparsable words. "You mean like those girls at the front, caged and chained? It seems awful boring for them when so many others appeared more... active."

"They say that patience is a virtue, perhaps the sounds that spill out and echo only entice them further and let them know the wait is worthwhile. It's a matter of control, plain and simple. If I command them to wait there, on standby, they do so with commendable obedience. They want to please me, perhaps even impress me. Like well polished statues, aha... I've been told it helps with the exam stress to be switched off for a while too. I'm very generous, take note of that okay?" A hand reaches out to grip Amelia's gently, smooth leather thumb running across her own until clicking her pen back into appropriate state. "See? All useful tools are on standby until they're needed. Do you understand?" 

Pulling her hand away pointedly and chewing on the inside of her cheek, Amelia answers slowly. "Yes, sir. Very educational." Before the stranger can see to it that she's teased for her hostility, women begin spilling into the space and line up neatly in rows. There must be around twenty in total, blowing Amelia's estimation out of the water. The girl takes notes once more, highlighting the differences between this stranger's pets. Some wear latex like that woman from earlier, while some are bound in rope that tightly packages their curves. Some are dolled up like sluts while others are dressed rather conservatively, though Amelia wonders what those long dresses might hide. Some have gags in their mouths, the most elaborate of which are the two who wear a full headpiece with ears included, arms bound behind their backs and boots longer than any the girl has seen in person. The women's ages vary along with body type and ethnicity, it doesn't seem like their 'Owner' has any particular type. 

"Go ahead and line up with them, Amy." The stranger orders casually, inspecting their other girls with internal checklist. 

Amelia scowls. "What? I know this is all just a game to you, but I-I can't just--"

"Oh please, you're being a little dramatic. It's just a line up, don't you want to experience what it's like to be in their shoes so you can take better notes? Or is journalism far less committed than I remember? Once again, they're all here by their own wills, right? I don't think standing alongside them means you're suddenly my property, fun as that thought is!" The stranger snaps their fingers again and the girls' backs straighten impressively, Amelia gritting her teeth and joining them when she realises she doesn't have a sufficient argument. 

As the student falls in line with space being made for her at the front, she hooks a finger into her collar after finally remembering it's there. "Can I speak?"

"Not customarily, but I'll make an exception since you're a guest and you were good enough to ask permission." More syrupy smugness that Amelia takes care not to get stuck in and have to wade through. 

"That's... not what I mean, I just wondered if you were too busy doing... I don't know, counting?" She looks around and finds it strange to be in such a crowd but feel that her guide is the only other conscious person here capable of holding conversation. That's not quite true, with a glance to the side she notices two women who seem to have take a similar interest in herself as they lean against the other office's wall wearing navy coveralls. Assistants, perhaps? What a strange world, this Eden. 

"Very astute, dear. I could have my dutiful Seven and Twelve take stock but these things often require personal touch, you won't be able to tell while they're all so well conditioned but all of these women are ecstatic to see me right now. To be looked at by me and reminded of the value I place on them, it's an important thing to remind people who are generous enough to hand over control of their bodies and minds. Ask away, I'm a good multitasker." The redhead circles around the assembly and tests the quality of a woman's shibari as Amelia tries to think clearly in this surreal place.

"So, uhm. I can see this is all a very elaborate fetish roleplay. What--"

"I wouldn't use the word roleplay, these women are very serious. Go ahead and call that sweet thing to your left a cunt and she won't bat an eye, won't break character because she's not acting. Just because I told you they're willingly mine I did not mean to imply that my mind control was mere mimicry. I forget how ordinary people tend not to know of these things..."

Amelia feels a sting as she's labelled ordinary, it brings a sardonic smile to her lips when she considers what an outcast she is in the world outside of these thin walls. "So like I asked before, hypnosis? You've used the word trance a lot... I know about hypnotherapy, but this sort of thing I've only seen in cheesy movies, sorry."

"Don't be sorry that you're so uninformed, you're here to learn aren't you?" The stranger winks, making Amelia feel tense. "You're right though, even if I didn't expect you to still be unsure on that front. These women are my hypnotised slaves, I spend the day conditioning them to better fit this role and they thank me for it so sweetly even I can't help but blush. If you'd like to make your dissertation more exciting then feel free to label us a cult and me the enigmatic leader, that's much more thrilling than reality and well, isn't that what journalism is all about?"

"I intend to document as unbiasedly as possible, though I feel like our goals don't exactly align. You said you wanted to make me 'a subject' before..."

"What makes a better thesis, girl? Observing my Eden as an outsider who could never truly understand it, or documenting that fall into temptation first hand?" The stranger circles back around to the front and looms over Amelia, seeming taller than before in the girl's tippled senses. 

Amelia tries her best to appear indignant, her breathing now irregular. "You're suggesting I... make the dissertation about myself? A first hand account?"

"It would be a chance to prove that I really can't make you do things you wouldn't agree to, at the very least. You've been suspicious of that since last night, such an active imagination you have to fear such a fictional threat. Hypnosis is real, but not like in those cheesy movies you mentioned. I'd wager many of these women developed an interest in it from such films though! How many did you say you watched, Amy?" Eden's owner grins, eyes lowering like they can see right through her. 

The student feels suffocated, face hot with embarrassment as she's called out for believing that such farcical ideas could be somehow true. "This is... too much. Too strange, I think. I'm sorry for intruding on your uhm... what you have going here, but--"

"Ah, sounds like you've gotten cold feet. Completely understandable, and I was so enjoying your company too. Here I'll prove that your silly thoughts have run away with you and let you out now, though I shan't be letting you back inside once you're gone." 

"I'm sorry." Amelia wonders why she just apologised, biting her lip hard enough to break skin as she's led away from the group of hypnotised slaves and retraces heavy steps to the front entrance. 

"Don't be." Sighs the stranger, leading Amelia by the hand as she finds herself traitorously indulging this final act. "It just means you weren't ready for paradise. Good luck on your dissertation, I hope you find fitting subject matter."

The girl nods weakly, feeling sobered by the sun's waning rays and the fresh air that accompanies them. By the time she has collected herself, the door has already closed behind her.