Telos Ch. 06

More than that, being obedient made her happy.

Happy. Eager. Obedient.

The words sent a surge of heat through her and she reached between her legs to get rid of it. She knew she wasn't supposed to. There was a pile of police reports in front of her that mistress wanted her to go through to piece together what master and the others had been doing. Thinking was hard, though, and her mind was completely at the mercy of her body. Until she was done she wouldn't be able to pull her thoughts together. When she was done she'd start reading them again. All she had to do was orgasm a few times and she would be fine.

People vanished all the time but only some of them were taken to the white room. Most of them were killed and quickly forgotten but a few of them were made like her. One hand, under the control of impulses buried deep inside her psyche, made its way inside her uniform to squeeze her breasts. Master had made her happy and soft and eager. Much better than being dead. She forced off her pants and fell on the floor.

Her fingers kept her on the edge, refusing to give her release.

"Amy."

"Mistress." Amy opened her eyes to see her owner's shoes. She dragged herself into a kneeling position with one hand still between her legs and stared up at the woman weakly.

The good doctor looked down at her sympathetically. "Would you like help?"

Amy nodded.

Mistress crouched down to touch her cheek and Amy convulsed in a sudden violent orgasm. When it subsided mistress helped Amy to her feet and smoothed her shirt. "Amy, if anything happens to me and I can't take care of you I want you to go back to your master. He'll take care of you."

"What's going to happen?"

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"If there's something wrong I want to know."

Mistress made a pained expression. "There could be a conflict and I might . . . die in it. You should stay with your master. I don't trust anyone else to keep you safe."

There was a knock at the door and Selina, the mayor's old administrative assistant, appeared. "Miss . . . Doctor, sorry . . . Doctor Silva, I didn't think you'd be down here. I was going to speak to Detective Haas about something. Sorry. Should I . . ." She turned away as if the situation had only finally registered to her. "I'll come back in a minute."

Mistress laughed softly. "No, don't let me interrupt." She trailed her fingers idly across Selina's cheek as she passed her. "Is there something upsetting you?"

Selina's eyes widened. She froze in place.

"Ma'am," said Amy.

The doctor pulled her hand away. "Sorry." She took a deep breath and left.

"You said you had something to say?" asked Amy.

"I'll . . . um . . . I'll show you." Selina led her to a small room in the left wing of the residence and opened the door.

Amy stepped inside and the door immediately closed behind her. "I'm not sure I understand what's going on here."

A hand fell on her shoulder.

"My name is Susan," said the girl behind her. She turned Amy's head. "Selina is a good friend of mine and I told her I wanted to meet you. We had to play a little trick." The girl's hand worked its way beneath the waistband of her pants. "I am so glad to finally get to know you. You are absolutely beautiful."

"You're um . . . you . . . you're trying to distract me."

"Is it working?" asked the girl.

"Yes . . ." admitted Amy. She bucked her hips involuntarily. "Who are you?"

"I just told you, my name is Susan." The girl turned her around entirely and pushed her up against the door. She tore open Amy's shirt. She kissed her collarbone. "You don't need to know anything more than that."

Amy laid her head back and gave up the losing battle of trying to remain in control. Susan's fingers knew how to tease her. "I have work to do."

Susan laughed. "Later."

"No . . . something is . . ."

"Come with me," suggested Susan. "There are nicer places to enjoy each other's company." Her finger's trailed down Amy's arms and gently tugged at her hands. "Come on."

Amy shook her head. "I . . ."

"You look so confused. Let me help."

Amy's heart pounded in her chest. She could feel herself being pulled along. "Wait." She tried to make herself concentrate. "Wait . . . I . . ."

Something cold pressed against her chest. A gun. "You're much more coherent than I expected," said Susan, all the honey gone out of her voice. "If you say a single world, I will have to shoot you." She moved her other hand to Amy's clit. "Still, you do come with a convenient off button. Say good night."

"No."

"Stop fighting. You're a slave remember?" She made a slow stroke of her finger and Amy trembled. "That was the deal you made. Happiness in exchange for weakness. Enjoy it, this is what you want."

"Stop." Something was terribly wrong. She knew she had to fight back. "Um . . . stop. Please." Amy's eyelids drooped. "Um . . ."

"That's it, give in. Sleep."

Amy awoke in a gray room, a carpeted basement with brushed concrete walls. She was tied to a chair with a small group of people in front of her. She recognized Susan among them but none of the others were people she'd ever seen before. They stopped talking when they noticed she was awake. Susan came forward.

"Where is Grace?" she demanded.

"Who?"

"Grace Marseau." Susan grabbed Amy's chin. "The reporter."

Amy ground her teeth. "I have no idea."

The conspirators exchanged glances among themselves then opened the door. From where she was seated Amy could barely make out the figure of a blond man in a closely cut suit standing outside. He met her eyes without emotion.

"Get away!" Amy thrashed against her bindings. She could feel her skin burning where his gaze fell. "You have to get out! He'll kill you!"

They ignored her.

"He's going to kill you. You have to get away!"

The door slammed shut with a hollow echo and Amy felt the terror retreat.

"He'll kill you," she said dejectedly.

For a long time Amy waited in the room alone. If they decided to kill her there wasn't anything she could do about it. She tried to think instead. A crack in the paint that blacked out the windows told her the sun was up. Water was flowing somewhere nearby. No smell of gasoline suggested she was outside of the city. The irrational need for sex gradually muted her senses. She shook her head and tried to start thinking again.

She needed to escape. If she got out of her bindings she could surprise whoever came back into the room and use them as leverage. Then she would finger herself to a wonderful climax.

Happy. Eager. Obedient.

"No . . ." A horrible thought occurred to her. The mantra tried to down it out.

Happy. Eager. Obedient.

It made her smile. That was what master and mistress wanted her to be. A good slave, just like Susan said. She had chosen to be weak. A few intimate caresses would make her to obey with a smile. Amy shuddered at the thought of being taken. The thought returned. Without mistress to protect her she was utterly exposed. Grace could make her bend without even trying. Susan would twist her into knots.

All the strength went out of her.

"I'm not yours," she muttered to the empty room. "I'm not yours. I'm not. You can't make me."

"Maybe I can."

Amy opened her eyes.

Susan was standing in front of her with small silver sex toy. "I can turn you into whatever I want and you'll thank me for it. That's what you are."

"No." Amy shook her head.

"You should know," Susan said, holding the toy in front of Amy's eyes, "I find this method of interrogation more than a little distasteful. It works, though. Sex keeps the mind so soft. That's why they tinkered with you head. I don't even need that drug or magic powers to control you. No one does anymore. Once I turn you on, you're mine." She traced the toy down to Amy's belly to her pussy. "This is what they turned you into. Slave. Slut. Whore. When you try to fight me I want you to remember that."

"Who are you people?"

"We're the resistance. Tell me what you know."

"I don't know anything."

Susan took the wonderful toy away. "Grace Marseau went to see Doctor Laura Silva and vanished. You were assigned to find her and after you went to see Doctor Laura Silva you vanished. I found Grace's notes while I was cleaning our her desk. Conspiracies, murders, and chemicals in the water. They sounded paranoid until Selina called me and told me about what was happening in her town courtesy of Doctor Laura Silva."

Amy shook a bit from cold.

"I'm going to stop the good doctor," said Susan, "but first I want to know what happened to Grace. She tried to save the world. The least she deserves that I make that effort."

"You don't understand. Mistress is trying to help you." She brought her mind back into focus again. "The blond man. You have to run. You have to get away."

"Who?"

"He was outside. I saw him I . . . felt him." She saw no recognition on her captor's face and hung her head in resignation. "Mistress is trying to help."

Susan laughed. "By turning everyone into you."

"No by getting rid of the Bliss, the chemical."

"You're lying."

"It's true! Please, m . . . mi . . ."

"Say it," whispered Susan. "Say 'mistress' and I'll give you everything you want."

Amy gasped out a wordless refusal as her head filled with the scent of her captor.

"Let's see how easy you break." The toy touched Amy's clit teasingly, humming with energy. "Say it. I can wait a long time." She dragged the toy lower and it Amy felt it force its way inside her sex. It wiggled from side to side and Amy moved with it helplessly. "Say it."

"No."

Susan frowned. "What am I doing?" She shook her head a few times and the expression vanished. The same tiny diabolic smile that so often force its away onto mistress's appeared. "Your loyalty is admirable. Fine. Let's get back to that first question. Tell me were Grace is."

Amy took a deep breath. "You'd rather not know."

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The mayor gets a name since he's not like the blond man or the clean shaven man, it just didn't come up in the last chapter. Also, I've discovered that there are no common euphemisms for penis that I don't find either extremely silly, crude, or both.

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