Alice came down the steps of her front door and into the street. It was time to go and replenish her fridge - a two-week holiday was badly needed and had been looked out for enthusiastically. When she rounded the corner of street she all but bumped into May, a colleague, who greeted her, and stopped for a moment to talk.
"Hi Alice," she said, "how's your holiday been so far?"
"Huh? Been so far? I slept well, if that's what you mean. Did some reading last night until ten, then turned in. Nothing of note yet."
She was greeted by a baffled look. "You didn't sleep for ten days, did you? It's Tuesday now! The holidays are more than half over!"
"Ha ha," Alice said. "Funny! I woke up with a bit of a headache, but it's almost over, and as I didn't do any shopping at all during the week I'll have to buy food for the holidays now. Are you planning to do something special?"
"You're not serious, are you? I spent a midweek in the Peak district. It was really great; did a lot of walking. We could rent a cottage for next to nothing. Wish I'd stayed on a little..."
May grinned at Alice a little wistfully and then said goodbye and walked on.
Alice looked at her vanishing form, rather bemused. May usually wasn't given to a wild imagination... She shook her shoulders and went into the local supermarket. She filled her trolley with groceries and a few loaves of dark bread and she picked up a newspaper near the check-out. When she skimmed the front page her eyes grew wide. It didn't say October 12 as she'd expected. It clearly read October 21. It couldn't but be a misprint. She checked the other papers. They all showed the same mistake. October 21? But if that were true, what had happened in between?
She asked an old lady who was standing in the queue in front of her what day it was, and received a pitying look. "Tuesday, my dear," she said. "Are you alright?"
It made the sweat stand on her forehead. She'd read about lost weekends caused by drink - but a lost ten days when she'd been as sober as a judge? She loved an occasional glass of wine, but the bottle she'd thought she had, had been all but empty and she'd had a quarter of a glass before she turned in.
She rushed home. There was no mail in her mailbox, and there were no brochures, no nothing. Her dishwasher didn't contain anything but what she remembered having put there, and there was no accumulation of dust on the flat surfaces. The few potted plants must have been watered, and her laundry basket contained exactly what she thought it would. Even the book she'd been reading lay upside down, open in the right place.
She went upstairs and checked the bed. It looked alright, too. What could have happened? It made her feel a little giddy on her legs. Blast. Over a whole week missing!
She went downstairs again and poured herself a stiff drink. She took a firm swig - it tasted foul, she thought. She put down the glass, and sat down. Not a bad idea, apparently. The room started to sway and she couldn't remember what she'd been doing. She could not think constructively at all....
When Alice came to, she was sitting on a kind of rocking chair, and she felt there was a firm dildo in her pussy. Her arms were bound behind her back, and her knees were tied to the chair. She was wearing nipple clamps inside a very thin bra and a pair of split-crotch panties, and a ball-gag in her mouth - nothing else.
When she looked around fearfully, she saw a beautiful young woman sit on a stool by her side. She was very heavily made up, and wore her platinum-blonde hair in a loose roll around her neck. She wore a top with a low cleavage and a miniskirt, and a pair of fuck-me heels.
"Don't be afraid - we won't hurt you," she whispered close to Alice's ear. "You were wondering what you'd been at in the lost days, weren't you? You've no memory of them - and they will remain like a series of dreams forever - hot dreams of Alice; sexy, saliceous dreams... based on your fears and your secret fantasies. When it's tomorrow you'll have no memory of this in your conscious thoughts."
Alice couldn't reply for the gag in her mouth. Her throat felt dry - all very well to tell her not to be afraid - she was scared to death.
The young woman rose and kissed Alice on her upper lip. "Really, we won't hurt you!" she said. "I will show you your first dream - just sit back and relax."
The woman switched on the big flatscreen TV across the room. It woke to life and when she had adjusted it to the DVD-mode Alice read "Hot Dreams of Alice" in big letters. The legend slowly faded out while a new one faded in; it simply said,
"Used"
Then the letters faded out again and she saw a big, Victorian house. There was a car coming up the drive. It stopped, and a woman dressed in a long raincoat got out, escorted by two big men in sunglasses. They walked up the steps.
"You remember what we told you? you will go into the room and undress and offer yourself to the lusts of our clients. You'll actively do so - unless you want to be seriously hurt?"
"Nooo... Please! I don't want -"
"Do I have to slap some sense into you?"
Alice's eyes grew wide when she recognised her own voice. What on earth -
The picture faded and instead there was a view of the drawing room. A distinguished looking black man, who was greying at the temples sat in an armchair talking to a younger man who was selecting a CD and put it in the CD player of an expensive-looking music system.
Then the door opened and Alice saw herself be bundled into the room by the two thugs. She walked to the centre of the room, dressed in a slinky black number and black stockings on impossibly high red heels. She stood wringing her hands, looking at the man sitting in the club chair with a look of despair.
"You're not going to take advantage of me, aren't you?" she said. "You're not going to take off my dress, and touch me?"
She slowly moved the shoulder straps of her dress off her shoulders, and the dress slipped to the floor, leaving her stand in a very thin white bra, garterbelt and panties. She licked her lips - made up very red and shiny, in a face with a lot of rouge and eyeshadow - and she ran her hands over her breasts.
"Please..." she whispered. "Please don't - I don't want it! I want to be let go!"
