Paralyzer

"Here. This one's on me."

Kyra looked up in surprise to see the bartender standing in front of her, holding a tall glass filled with milky brown liquid. She swiveled her head left and then right, half-expecting to see someone next to her reaching for the drink, but there was nobody nearby. "Um, thanks," she said, accepting the glass. "What's the occasion?" It wasn't Ladies Night at 'The 100', and it was too late for free drinks even if it was. It wasn't that Kyra was unused to getting free alcoholic beverages, but usually they were from cute guys. The bartender's sudden generosity made her just a little bit curious.

The bartender smiled tenderly. It was a little incongruous on her; between the shaved head, the half-dozen piercings in each ear, the studs and rings in her tongue, nose and lip, and the tribal tattoos that ringed her arms and neck, she looked like the only human warmth she was capable of involved setting people on fire. "You looked like you've been having a miserable night," she said. "I thought you might want a drink."

"Tell me about it," Kyra said. She tilted her head as she knocked the shot back. The drink tasted smooth and sweet on her tongue, with just a hint of coffee to balance the sugary flavor. Kyra could barely taste the alcohol, but the drink slid down her throat with a warm sensation that told her there was plenty concealed behind the candy-like taste. "Wow!" she said. "I think I've got a new favorite drink. What is that?"

"It's called a Paralyzer," the bartender said. "Want another?"

Kyra almost said yes, but painful experience had taught her that the better a drink tasted, the easier it was to drink too many and the nastier the surprise was when you realized that 'too many' was about four drinks ago. "Let's let this one hit bottom first," she replied instead.

"Sure thing," the bartender said, taking the empty glass. "But if you want another, just ask. They're on me." Kyra looked at her quizzically, and she shrugged. "Like I say, you look like you've been having a rough night. I see a lot from back here, and I couldn't help noticing the way you keep striking out with the guys tonight."

Kyra snorted derisively. "I haven't been striking out with them," she said. "They've been striking out with me." She wasn't sure whether to be amused or offended that the bartender thought she couldn't pick up a guy in this place. She'd seen women whose teeth numbered in the single digits walking out of here with a guy on their arm. "I just dumped one scrub. I don't need another hopping into my bed, you know?"

Kyra jerked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the dance floor. "I mean, I cannot believe some of the guys out there. One of them actually tried the 'imaginary lasso' thing on me. As if!" She grinned. "I got out a pair of imaginary scissors and cut it. Then I went to the bathroom."

The bartender smiled back. "You're here a little early to hook up with someone," she said. "These are the guys who want to find a girl, get out, and get laid."

"And I have no problem with that," Kyra said. "Just...whoa." She wiggled her jaw experimentally. "My tongue feels numb."

The bartender's eyes twinkled with mischief. "That means it's working," she said, wiggling the empty glass in her hand. "Want another?"

Kyra stuck out her tongue for a moment and tapped it lightly with her finger. "Sure," she said. "Just don't let me have too many, okay? I don't want to get totally soused and go home with some loser."

"Don't worry," the bartender said, "I'll make sure to cut you off when you've had enough."

"Thanks, um..." Kyra paused, feeling a little sheepish.

"Sally," the bartender said. "But my friends call me Sal." She handed Kyra another paralyzer.

"Thanks, Sal," Kyra said. She didn't really think of the other woman as a friend, but anyone who was handing out free drinks was a friend until the liquor supply dried up. "So where was I?" She swallowed the drink, marveling at its thick, syrupy smoothness on her tongue. "Oh, right, the scrubs! Oh, God, Sal, you wouldn't believe it. This one guy out there, I mean, he had a gut that looked like he'd swallowed a beach ball. And he's like, 'Hi,' and I was just like, 'Why are you even talking to me? Do you think I don't have any standards at all?'"

She rolled her eyes. "And he was one of the better ones! I mean, he was dumpy and unattractive, but at least he dressed nice. I haven't seen fashion sense this bad since the circus left town. They should be forced to put warning labels on leather pants, you know?"

Kyra paused to take another sip of her drink, then realized she'd swallowed it all. Those paralyzers really did go down too smooth for their own good. "And the pick-up lines!" she said, regaining her train of thought. "'Do you live around here?' 'Are you a dancer?' 'I'd love to photograph you.' I keep expecting to hear 'What's your sign?' or something. It's like 'Bad Dating Bingo'."

Sal nodded. "I hear you," she said, mixing another paralyzer. "It's enough to turn you off guys completely."

"Oh, don't remind me," Kyra said, accepting the drink gratefully. "I actually got propositioned by a girl." She grimaced. "Some skanky bull-dyke chick asked me if I'd like to have a threesome with her." Kyra paused for dramatic effect. "And her girlfriend." She knocked back the paralyzer in one long, easy swallow. "I mean, why did she even come here? Why not try some lesbian bar or something?"

Sal shrugged. "Maybe she knows someone who works here."

Kyra nodded absently. "Maybe. Anyway, yeah. I, um...I can do better. Than these guys, I mean." She looked down at her empty glass, feeling faintly as though she was missing something. "But, you. Um, you were saying something about..." Kyra blinked owlishly. "About it being too early?"

Sal nodded. "Yeah," she said, mixing another paralyzer. "You just need to stick it out, is all. Hang out a while with me, take it easy, you know?"

Kyra nodded right along with Sal. "Thanks," she said, taking the drink almost without thinking about it. She was too preoccupied trying to figure out what kept nagging at the back of her mind. It was something Sal had said, something that probably would have made perfect sense to her if she hadn't already had... She set the empty glass down slowly, trying to figure out how many drinks she'd had tonight.

Sal took the glass away, but showed no signs of mixing up another drink. That was probably a good thing, as far as Kyra was concerned. Those paralyzers went down so easy, but they hit like a...like a...she tried to come up with a good simile, but her head felt too thick and muzzy to think of anything clever. "Um, Sal?" she said. Her voice sounded slurred in her ears. "What's...um...what's in..." She trailed off. Her jaw felt too heavy and her tongue felt too clumsy to keep talking. Instead, she just let her mouth hang open slightly while she concentrated on not falling off her stool.

"In the paralyzers?" Sal asked. Kyra started to nod, but once she lowered her head, she couldn't seem to bring it back up again. She realized just how comfortable she felt being exactly where she was; it felt as though she'd somehow found the perfect position, sitting here on the barstool, and her muscles didn't want to do anything but hold it.

Sal reached out and touched her chin, moving her head back up to a level gaze. Kyra let out a tiny sigh. Oddly enough, the new position felt just as good as the old one had. She felt like she could stay exactly the way she was forever. "Oh, not much," Sal said, her tone seeming almost too light and breezy. "Some vodka, some tequila, some Kahlua, a little splash of coke, and plenty of cream to make it go down smooth. Oh, and some rare South American herbal extracts. But I don't put those in every paralyzer. Just yours."

"Oh," Kyra tried to say. But her lips didn't move, and her tongue didn't move, and so it just sort of came out as a quiet grunt.

"You shouldn't have been so rude to Peg," Sal said. Her tone stayed just as deliberately polite and calm as ever, but her smile didn't reach her eyes anymore. "We'd have been happy to find a different girl, but you couldn't say no politely. So now you're coming home with us after all."

The words didn't really seem to find purchase in Kyra's mind. She understood them, but her mind seemed to be strangely passive like her body now. She just stared straight ahead glassily as Sal mixed her up another paralyzer and put it in her unresisting fingers. "Here you go," she said, pressing the drink to Kyra's lips and tilting her head back slightly so that the liquor flowed into her mouth.

She thought she was going to choke on it for a second, but then she felt Sal's hand brush against her throat, and that seemed to jumpstart her swallow reflex enough that she could drink it all. It tasted warm and sweet going down. That was all that really registered in Kyra's mind now.

Sal took the glass out of her hand. "I think you've had enough, ma'am," she said theatrically, loud enough that the few other people nearby could hear. "Do you have anyone who can help you get home?"

Kyra tried to reply to the question, to explain that she was out on her own because she hadn't wanted any competition from her female friends, but nothing came out. Behind her, though, she heard a female voice say, "Yeah, she's a friend of mine. I'll make sure she gets back safe."

She felt a hand slide underneath her shoulder, lifting her up from the barstool. She felt another hand pressing at her knees, giving them the impetus to straighten that she somehow lacked now. Sal came around the bar, passing in and out of Kyra's field of vision as she helped the other woman carry her out of the club. Kyra didn't seem to be able to find the energy to look at either one of them. It just felt easier to stare straight ahead.

Outside, Sal left the other woman to carry Kyra. "Gotta get back," she said. "You'll have her ready for me when I get home?"

"You bet, babe," the other woman said. Kyra heard them kiss. She felt like she should know who the other woman was, but thinking felt too hard now. It was simply easier to accept. It felt so easy just to be right here, right in the moment, letting other people do all the work so that she could relax in this perfect, comfortable pose.

The other woman put her in a car, and Kyra finally saw who it was when she leaned across to buckle the seat belt. Somehow, she didn't feel surprised that it was Peg, the woman she'd turned down for the threesome. She didn't mind, either. Peg was taking charge. Kyra felt grateful that someone was taking charge of her body, her mind. That was what she needed right now.

The drive home felt timeless, serene. Kyra relaxed into the seat and let Peg drive her. It felt strangely appropriate that someone else was driving her body right now. She would have smiled, if she could have. Instead, she just let her mouth hang open a little. She felt a tiny trickle of drool at the corner of her mouth, but it didn't bother her. Nothing bothered Kyra right now.

They pulled into a parking garage and parked. Kyra heard the door close on the driver's side, and open a moment later on the passenger side. Peg leaned in and scooped Kyra up as though she was a sleeping child, kicking the door shut and carrying her effortlessly to an elevator. As she walked, she whispered to Kyra. "You're so beautiful," she whispered. "So soft and sweet and helpless. So delicate. You're going to love what Sal and I do to you." And she would, Kyra knew. It seemed obvious, once she heard it. Her mind felt numb and tranquil, willing to think whatever it was guided to think just like her body would move the way Peg's hands guided it to move, and she readily accepted Peg's words.

Peg led her up to an apartment, and from there into the bedroom. Kyra could see all sorts of sex toys, ranging from the same kinds of vibrators that she had at home to some things she'd never even heard of, let alone imagined someone using on her. There was a piece of furniture in the corner that looked sort of like a waist-high pommel horse, and Peg led her over to it.

"Here we go," she said, standing Kyra upright against it. She adjusted it briefly so that Kyra's hips were just level with the top, then pushed her forward until she was bent double. A moment's more work, and Kyra was grabbing her own ankles. Even this felt perfectly comfortable to her, now.

"There we are, honey," Peg said, tilting her head back until she was looking forward. There was a glitter lamp on the floor, placed directly in her field of view. Peg reached over and switched it on.

Kyra would have gasped if she was capable of anything other than slow, shallow breaths. The sparkling, dancing light drew every scrap of her fragmented attention to it. She went from being loose and unfocused to utterly intent on the shimmering motion in moments. She heard Peg speaking, saying, "We found out that the drug works better if you've got something that draws the eyes," but the words passed straight into her subconscious without even touching the sides.

Kyra felt scissors cutting through the fabric of her clothing, but the ruination of a $200 dress didn't even make a dent in her consciousness. The part of Kyra that could have cared about clothes only registered the shimmering, glittering light as it moved endlessly, and the part of Kyra that noticed Peg snipping away her underwear only felt it as sensation.

"You like this," Peg said, and Kyra accepted it without thinking. "You like what I'm doing to your body right now." Kyra's conscious mind couldn't even notice Peg sliding two fingers into her pussy, and if it had, it wouldn't have been able to disagree. "You love sex with women, you love kinky sex with women, you love to let women touch you and finger you and fuck you. You love a strong, powerful woman playing with your body. You love the way it makes you feel helpless and weak."

Only the slick, silky ease with which Peg's fingers pumped in and out gave away how aroused Kyra was getting. She couldn't move, she couldn't moan, she wasn't even consciously aware of her orgasm when it hit. The blinding, impossible pleasure that made the world go white inside her head just seemed to be everywhere, as natural as the position of her body.

Kyra felt Peg open her mouth, pouring more of the sweet, creamy fluid into it. She didn't taste coffee or alcohol this time, only the cream and a slight bitterness under it that the other ingredients had concealed before. Peg massaged her throat until she swallowed. "Just a little more medicine, honey. Just to keep you all nice and pliable until Sal gets back." Kyra heard the amusement in Peg's voice without thinking about it. "Well, maybe a little longer than that. I kind of like you like this."

Time lost meaning as Peg programmed her. Kyra didn't even know she was being programmed, and wouldn't have cared if she had known. The words Peg whispered into her ears sank deep into the core of Kyra's mind, becoming certainties. She could no longer imagine wanting anything other than this, even if she was capable of imagining anything at all.

She heard Sal come into the room, felt the other woman unwrap her hands from her ankles and bend her back upright. She caught brief glimpses of their preparations as they posed her, saw the strap-on harnesses each one wore, the double-ended dildos they slid into their pussies as deep as it would go. Then they lifted her up and settled her onto Sal's thick plastic cock, and all she could see was Sal's face contorting in pleasure as they fucked. She couldn't see Peg, only feel her behind them sliding a smaller, well-lubed dildo into Kyra's ass.

The drug still hadn't worn off as the two women settled into a rhythm of fucking. Kyra couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even moan, and she didn't know when she'd be able to again. All she could do was hope that the other two women knew how hard she was coming for them.

THE END