This story is copyrighted 2017 by Kaereni, may not be excerpted, reprinted, reproduced, or reposted in any form without the express written consent of the author. Visitors may read or temporarily download pages but are not permitted to modify or re-distribute them.
The story may contain sexual activities and situations that are to be read only by readers above the legal age of consent. All characters are above the age 18. The story is not to be read in locations where such stories are illegal. If you are not of legal age, or live in the wrong place, please do not read.
Author's note: A special thanks goes to Ed for his work on editing my stories. This story is a tad different from my others. It deals deeply in mind control, BDSM, succubae, and some water sports. In addition, like my other stories this one contains latex, nylons, tats, military, PTSD, and female/ female relationships. So, if none of the above interests you, do not bother to read further.
*
It had been a long time coming. A stint in the military, able to vote, and still could not drink in the land she had fought to keep safe for better than half her enlistment. Now Karen was out and tomorrow could take care of itself. She decided she would start at one end of liquor row, the name they had given the bars just off base, and work her way down to the other end while stopping to have a drink in each bar. Seeing she was still dressed in her fatigues, she didn't worry too much about anyone giving her a hard time. Everyone knew military chicks were badass.
Sure enough she was left alone as she moved from bar to bar drinking. Some places had good bands, some had okay and a few had terrible bands. They played anything from country to grunge rock but she didn't mind. She was there for the chance to drink, not dance. Finally, it was near two in the morning when she saw a flyer stapled to the telephone pole outside the last place. It was red with black printing and said, "The Red Door." Below that was the line, "All who enter leave changed." At the bottom was an address.
"I have got to see this," she said as she put the address into her phone. She knew she was too drunk to drive, but slid in behind the wheel anyways. She followed the directions on her phone and finally ended up in the warehouse district. Stopping she noticed several cars parked before the address and walked to the door. She smiled owlishly at the red paper covering the door and then realized there wasn't a door knob.
Pushing at the door did no good so she banged loudly. A moment later the door opened and she looked at a nude woman who quickly dropped her eyes. "Welcome to Club Red Door Mistress. May this slave show you a table or would Mistress rather sit at the bar."
"Bar," Karen replied. She followed the woman, with a smile on her face. She had tumbled into a fetish club.
As she sat at the bar the woman said, "If this slave can serve you more Mistress, her number is 21."
She watched her walk away and noted her cute ass, before turning to the bartender, "Bud long neck." Only after she had her drink did she turn to look around. While there were several tables and booths scattered around, the place seemed half-deserted. At least that was what it looked like at first. She realized about half of the customers were kneeling beside or under tables. At one end was a raised stage and in the background was soft classical music playing.
A woman decked out in leather got up from one of the tables and walked to the stage. Standing off to one side she said, "Tonight we have several items on the docket. First up is number 17." A blond girl, devastatingly beautiful and wearing a collar walked up and knelt in the center of the platform. The woman waited a moment and then said, "This pleasure slave has been trained in the arts and according to her owner can build a ship in a bottle with her tongue. In addition, she is cleared for breeding if that is your desire. I have examined her and can attest to her ability to pleasure a woman." There was laughter at that, "The bidding will start at five thousand."
Through her drunken haze, Karen realized she was watching a real slave auction. The price for the blonde's bidding war went to fifty thousand before she was sold. "Holy shit." She breathed. As the woman was led off, she looked towards the door and the other woman. Was this woman also for sell? The woman was looking at her with fear and need as if to say with her eyes, "Protect me."
She couldn't leave but didn't dare stay. What would she do? She had sworn to protect but this was way outside her duties. With sick fascination she watched as several women and ripped men were auctioned off. While none went as high as the first, the lowest was still several more thousand more than she had. She looked towards the woman to mouth "I can't" but saw her walking to the stage as the woman called, "Last piece of property is number 21."
"Oh god," Karen whispered.
"Number 21 was a free woman who desired to give herself into slavery. She is completely untrained and I found her clumsy in her technique. However, to the right master or mistress, I believe she will make a fine addition to your stable. Minimum bid is 20 dollars to cover the cost of her brand." Compared to the other women, number 21 looked like a mud hen. When no one spoke up the woman said, "Come now, wouldn't someone love to take this piece of clay and mold her into your heart's desire?" Again there was only silence and the auctioneer looked at the woman, "I'm sorry dear, back to the dog kennel tonight."
Almost before the woman spoke Karen was on her feet and said loudly, "Forty dollars." She slapped the money on the bar and headed towards the door.
Before she reached it the woman caught up with her and said, "A girl thanks her Mistress for buying her.
It was only when she reached her car that she realized the woman was still following her and holding a paper sack. "You're free, go home."
"Please Mistress, a girl's home is with you." The woman said looking down. After a moment she said, "You don't want me... nobody wants me."
"Ah hell... Get in," Karen said. She opened the passenger door and once the woman sat said, "Slide over... I'm too drunk to drive."
"As you command Mistress," the woman said sliding over to the driver's seat. "Where would Mistress like her slave to drive her."
"Not the base that's for sure," Karen said and cracked up laughing at the vision of a nude woman driving her there. "Parent's house." She drunkenly typed in the address into her phone and handed it to the woman.
As they drove she looked at the woman driving the car and wondered why. Finally, she couldn't restrain herself, "Why?"
"Why what Mistress?" the woman asked glancing at her before returning her eyes to the road.
"Why all this?"
"Because this slave needs a strong willed Mistress to guide her though life. Alone she is nothing, but kneeling before her Mistress she is someone, someone special." The woman finally said.
"Could you knock off the third person crap and tell me why you sold yourself into slavery?" Karen asked after trying to get her mind wrapped around the warped speaking style.
"Mistress, without you I am nothing. I need your strong hand to guide me though life." She said after a moment. "All my life, every choice I made turned out to be the wrong one. Even when I made a choice to become submissive and let someone else lead, until you, no one would have me."
"I can't believe that," Karen replied. "You're sweet, have a cute butt and I love your eyes."