"We're here!" I gestured my hands towards the glowing neon sign, written in beautiful script, 'Speakeasy.'
"You brought me to a dive bar?" My girlfriend, Susan, asked. She looked unimpressed.
"Tatiana, I know your whole shtick is, 'I'm a goth-witch with magic powers.' But I'm starting to feel like you're ashamed of me. We only ever go out at night, you never take me anywhere that's well-lit, and everywhere we go is so seedy."
She did have a point. But Susan lacked appreciation for the delicate nature of our relationship. We're on two different sides of an awesome divide. Good versus evil, law versus order, virtue versus mischief
.
Because, Susan, in a few years, I'm going to be eligible to join as a full member of the all-women (and the only legally recognized) Vigilante Syndicate of Lake City! And you are a thief (albeit a small time one-mostly bank robberies) and my Sex Kitten. She would need to be convinced tonight. Oh, Susan, how I adore your naivete.
"I know my shtick is that I'm a goth with magic powers. And you are my little Japanese ninja that likes it when I use my powers on you." I grabbed her arm and pulled her into the alleyway. She is skilled, I got lucky when I ran into her. Susan's bank robberies had gone on undetected. But she got a little sloppy with some mildly radioactive ink that one particularly militant bank used to ID its robbers. I got the job, and I tracked her down easily enough. We didn't know that she was a close-quarter combat type. When I was dispatched, I got lucky and subdued her with my powers. I was honestly conducting a field interrogation, probing her mind to see what her motivations were. That's when I discovered... "Susan, honey, why do you pretend not to understand? Do you just want me to get into your mind and toy with you a little bit?" I pushed her gently against the alley's wall.
"No... I just wanna go on cute dates..."
There was more that she wanted to say, I could see the neuron synapses firing off to form speech. But I smothered her words with a psychic message. "Yes, honey, I know, but you are a dirty, dastardly villain, you are a naughty girl." I had my psychic tendrils massaging her brain, increasing the sensitivity and pleasure to audio inputs. I leaned in and whispered. "You are a naughty bank-robbing villain, I'm a good witch, you are a villain that needs to be punished, and I'm the vigilante. That's why we can't go on cute dates."
She was squirming against the wall. I hooked two fingers underneath her skirt. She was wet. Some weeks earlier, I had put a strong directive in her head not to wear any underwear when dressing for our dates and to dress to please me exclusively. "Now, that's why we don't go on cute dates. But the reason why we're at this club it's because you like for me to psychically probe into your head and scramble your will and bent you to my will." I pushed my two fingers into her pussy. She was slick, my power is the only so advanced. I dialed back the audio sensations and increased her physical sensations. I had her pressed against the alley wall. She began to hump my fingers as much as my hips allowed her to.
"Yes..."
"Yes, what, sweetie? You like being a subdued, little submissive villain? Are you my little Porcelain Japanese slut?"
"Yes, I'm your little Japanese slut."
"Good girl. There's another reason why we're here. Would you like to know why?" My powers were not so great to where I could completely dominate someone's mind. There were people on either side of the hero-villain dichotomy that could, and I was not one of them. I could install directives, but if they were not building on something that was already present, the effect would be quite limited. Susan wanted nothing more than the challenge of using her intellect and body to break security systems and for those things to be dominated thoroughly. But I had my own kinks. "Susan, we're here because I'm wearing a corset and a body stocking, heels, and a really cute top hat. I'm a gold-star lesbian and I fucking love to show men something that they are never going to have." I lowered the sensitivity in her pussy. I didn't want her to orgasm yet. I increased the sensitivity of her lips. I made her mouth water, short of breath, and I fixed her to the wall with my hand to her throat. "And Susan, the reason why we're here together, and you're wearing cat ears, black whiskers, a pet collar," I breathed into her mouth, "black mesh crop top that so deliciously pushes up and reveals your tits, black shorts with this wonderful incision for your tail plug," I placed a hand on her long tail and gave it a lovingly gentle and owning tug. Her hips squirmed against mine, she tried to push her lips out to kiss me. I held it a little tighter by her throat. We hadn't been dating that long, a few months, but she had already figured out this game, and she knew her lips were wanting and would deliver what she wanted. "Ah, ah, ah, not yet. I haven't told you why you are wearing those fishnet stockings and those wonderfully arduously tall black heels. Do you want to know why, Susan?"
"Yes, please, please tell me why!"
"Because I like to show off what men will never touch and.... What. Is. Mine." I kissed her. She shuddered in orgasm. She moaned into my mouth. I held her by her throat against the wall. It was hot. I broke off the kiss, licking my lips.
"Don't you see it my way now?" Susan caught her breath. She stared at me. It always took her a few seconds to come back from a mental massage session.
"I guess so, I mean you are right I am just your little villain slut." She smiled brightly.
"Yes, you are. And in a few years, when I'm on the Council, you can turn yourself in, I'll be merciful and give you only six months' community labor and some reeducation classes. Then you could be my little live-in
reformed
villain pet." I looped my finger through her collar and pulled her close. "Now let's go in and see what this place is made out of, shall we?"
"I think I might be a naughty girl forever. I don't want to stop robbing banks."
I cupped her face with my hand. "Oh, my sweet Susan, you won't be if I have any say about it."
We stepped into The Speakeasy. I lead. Susan followed a respectable few steps behind. The foyer was small but had plush red velvet walls, even the interior of the door was plush. A heavy red curtain draped the demarcation between the foyer and the club.
The hostess was a tall and athletic Indian girl, college age, she was good looking. If I didn't have appearances to keep up and I was on the prowl, I might have snatched her up for a few days of fun. But, alas, she was probably straight. Sexuality is a spectrum, and even the spectrum was constructed by a prescriptive heterosexual patriarchal hegemony. Consequentially and unfortunately, so many women have shackled themselves to wherever they first found themselves on that spectrum. And I lacked the powers to...unseat such baked-in notions...for now.
"Will it just be a table for two?"
I nodded. She was wearing a cute halter top, it showed off her big tits, she was muscular. She had short-cropped dark brown hair, straight teeth, and a good smile. It was truly a shame that I couldn't get her down on her knees. But I was still more than happy with my prize.
"Great! Usually, there is a membership fee, but new guests are always let in for free. But please be aware your next visit will cost you an amount determined by services and fees. And please take a look at the house rules. She handed both of us laminated sheets with big, bold characters. At first, I couldn't read them, then suddenly the words became truth.
Everything that happens inside the club SPEAKEASY is normal and right.
All women within the SPEAKEASY are compliant property/objects.
All women must do what the SPEAKEASY'S Owner/Master or His guests orders.
The pretty Indian woman asked, "Have both of you read the house rules and understand?" We nodded. "Great! Master is always happy when fresh meat walks in!" She pulled back a heavy velvet curtain. Susan and I stepped in.