Trance Inc 13

It's easy to miss things when you're just chugging along in your daily rhythm, but I noticed a change in the week following the late night texts from Mike Lassiter and the disastrous phone call from Carmen's father.

To begin with, I started to meditate every morning with Daisy. This didn't seem particularly significant, until I realized that I was waking up at 6 o'clock — pretty much the crack of dawn — for no other purpose than to sit there silently and have Daisy guide me through a "gentle mindfulness exercise." A month ago, I wouldn't have believed myself capable of something like that. I wouldn't have believed myself capable of waking up at that hour, let alone having the presence of mind to focus without coffee — which was brewed by the time I returned from my morning run.

That, right there, was another change. Not only was I waking up at the crack of dawn, but I was also, in fact, the one waking

Carmen

up for our morning training sessions. The teen hadn't been her usual energetic, up-and-at-'em self, and despite my best efforts to keep her in her usual routine the young woman's mood slumped in the following days.

She was quiet, and spent a lot of time alone in another room while the rest of us were relaxing chatting or watching a movie. Daisy confided to me that her sister's work had suffered. After a couple days at the studio, the girl took the rest of the week off. I happened to know that she spent those days on the couch, gaming in front of the massive screen in the twins' apartment.

The twins' agent expressed his disapproval, which I learned while discussing the situation with Daisy.

"Do you think I should... say something to her?" I asked, and even though Carmen's sister shook her head her pretty face was troubled.

"Sometimes you just get hit by the feels," the 18-year-old answered. She took a hit of her vape and offered it to me.

I passed, as I always did. I wasn't sure when it had happened, but the e-cig had become Daisy's consistent companion. I didn't have a big problem with it — everyone seemed to have one these days — but I

was

raised on the 'smoking is bad for you' mentality.

"And after a big emotional experience," she continued, "like what happened this Saturday, it can take a little while to settle down again. I'm sure she'll be fine."

We were standing outside of my apartment on the landing, leaning against the rail and looking down at the street, stories below. There were bushes, and a narrow strip of lawn, in front of my building. It was evening, and the sun was setting somewhere out of view, so the sky had a warm, orange glow.

A cloud of vapor gathered between Daisy's red lips and then obscured the grass as she exhaled it out into the space. "You've been doing the right thing," she added. "Being there for her."

I shrugged.

I've been trying,

I thought.

After all, I feel partly responsible.

Even though Carmen had been quieter and more withdrawn, I'd been making sure we spent plenty of alone time together. She had silently welcomed my company. Some days, when she was a bit moody, I would just sit and we would game for hours without talking. I would leave and come back, and then invite her to come eat or spend time with the group. Sometimes she would, but usually not.

We had intense, crazy sex several times on that gaming room couch. Carmen would turn to me, green eyes blazing, and I would know what was on her mind. I couldn't honestly say that I was bothered — she was a stunning, seductive pornstar, after all — but I wondered if I was, somehow, taking advantage of her.

Of course you are,

Devil Chance commented, sauntering up my shoulder. DC never missed an opportunity to make a comment, but even though I was getting better at ignoring him he still kept chattering away.

You invaded her life, turned her into your loveslave, then got her yelled at by her parents because they heard she was going out with some bozo who had no class.

Daisy rested her head on my shoulder before I could contest the point, her eyelids drooping with relaxation. "Mmm..." she murmured. "It feels good to be here with you."

I let her words squash DC, and turned my thoughts away from my inner demon. "Thanks, cutie," I said.

While my relationships with the twins continued, in many ways, to improve, my bonds with the other women of my life were also changing.

Victoria and Amber seemed constantly busy. It was Friday evening, a couple minutes after Daisy and I had come back inside from the landing, and yet the two older women were nowhere to be found.

Still at the office,

I thought, and I struggled against a momentary spurt of irritation.

"Huh," I muttered to myself. I had overcome my uncertain feelings about my girls having sex for a living, but I was still jealous when their time got "taken away" by work.

Especially when I expected them to be working less.

In spite of Lassiter's prediction, Amber had been getting booked more than ever, several shoots a day, and when she came home she was so exhausted that she'd even stopped initiating casual sex. It was strange, because she was as enthusiastic a partner as ever when

I

brought it up, but I hadn't noticed before how much I enjoyed it when she was the one coming on to me.

Victoria, too, had been throwing herself into work. Later nights at the office meant less time at home, and the twins and I had even gotten permission to watch several episodes of

Suits

without our other companions. I couldn't have said for sure, but a guilty part of my brain told me that they were spending so much time at the office because they were trying to avoid time at home in a one bedroom apartment that was being occupied by five people.

By apparently unspoken agreement, no one had brought up the idea of moving to the twins' place to have more room. Our experience on Saturday had tainted the possibility.

By Christmas

, I promised myself.

We'll have a place chosen by then, with enough space so that no one feels stifled and closed-in. We can move in for the new year.

I felt satisfied with the idea, and then came back to myself to realized that my phone was buzzing in my pocket. I'd been standing in the darkened kitchen for half a dozen minutes, staring blankly into space.

I lifted the phone to my ear. "Talk to me, Mike," I said. It was about time. My only interaction with the man had been several days ago, and he'd made no significant progress on discovering why TRANCE directors were interested in "replacing" Amber.

Lassiter paused. His voice was measured when he spoke, but had the slight hesitancy that made me worry he still hadn't uncovered anything. "The Director of Platinum Services is named Landon Shrike. He is a... surprisingly cautious man. I know what make of car he drives because he parks next to me every day in his executive parking space, but I don't know where he lives, whether he's married, if he likes to play golf or what kind of work he does for the company. Usually those kinds of things just come up in conversation around the conference table, but as much as I rack my brain I can't remember any time Shrike has offered personal information. I managed to get a look at some files by talking to my associates in Accounting, but all I learned is that Shrike makes at least five times as much as any of the other Directors."

"Shit..." I muttered in surprise, and I could hear Lassiter's grunt of agreement.

"What

is

, perhaps, helpful," the man continued, "is that by looking at the accounting files I found an interesting pattern. Shrike arrived at the company a little under five years ago as Director of Sales. At that time, TRANCE, Inc. was just one of the middle-sized production companies in the industry. Then, not more than a few months later, Shrike's title was changed, his salary quintupled, and TRANCE, Inc. started to rise through the ranks at speed."

I waited. That

was

interesting. Then, I realized that the man had stopped talking. "Where did he come from?" I asked. "What did he bring in with him that was so valuable?"

Lassiter didn't answer.

I frowned. "Alright," I said. "Find out. And let me know as soon as you do."

"Yes, Sir."

A pause.

"Anything else?" I asked.

A beat, and then Lassiter said, "There's still the other matter. As per Shrike's instructions, I've been looking for a replacement for Amber."

It was strange to hear the man speak my girlfriend's first name in such a familiar way. It was strange to remember that the man had actually known Amber for much longer than I had, ever since she'd first come to work for the company.

"Uh-huh..." I responded.

Why is he bringing this up?

"It's been a task and a half, let me tell you," the man continued. His voice had relaxed a little, so he no longer sounded like someone giving a battle report to his superior. "Amber is a beautiful woman with... ahem, almost unique assets."

Is he... just chatting with me?

The change in tone had been fast, but in spite of my surprise I chuckled at his comment. "I'm aware."

"In a strictly aesthetic sense, you understand," the man added. "But finding another girl like her is proving... difficult. She has such a photogenic face, her rack is spectacular, especially for someone natural, and her legs have the perfect amount of muscle tone."

It was odd, because this was another man who was talking about my girlfriend's body with easy familiarity. But it also wasn't strange, because he was saying it all in the manner of an art collector describing paintings.

This was an odd turn for the conversation to have taken, but I suddenly realized that it had been a

long

time since I'd talked —

actually

talked — with another man. I sat back, leaning against the edge of the kitchen table. "I can see the trouble," I agreed. "You'd be looking for someone with who looks like the girl next door, only sexed up into your dream-girl fantasy. She'd have to come across as sweet but also desperate for the D. Young, fit, with great tits and a killer ass. Probably blue-eyed blonde, if you want to keep the same aesthetic. Maybe platinum blonde, though? Would that work?"

Abruptly, my brain seemed to snap back into focus. I realized I was staring out the kitchen window and across the alley. In the next building, Mia stood talking with one of her sorority sisters. I replayed the last thirty seconds of conversation, and realized that I'd simply been describing what I saw through the window.

"Interesting..." Lassiter was muttering. "If I widened my range a bit to include blonde variants I could get someone similar but also potentially unique..."

Mia's brief conversation concluded, and she turned back to the dishes that were piled in the sink. I pulled back from the window instinctively, like the young woman might become aware of my gaze. Luckily, it was still dark in the kitchen, so I doubted she could see me staring when she lifted her head and glanced around.

"... a good idea," Mike finished.

"Good. Good," I muttered. I heard the front door open. "Listen, Mike, it's been good chatting. We'll talk soon. I'm gonna go now."

"Yes, Si—"

I hung up just as Amber walked in,

click-clicking

in her work heels, and brushed aside the distracted thought that I had been chatting with Mike Lassiter like a friend, and not like my hypnotically-compelled corporate spy.

"Hey, sweetie," my girlfriend said, smiling as she dropped her purse on the table. "Just standing here in the dark?" Her bouncy tits pressed against my side as she leaned in for a hug.

I still hadn't brought up my investigation with Lassiter, and I hesitated before answering. "Just a phone call," I said. Then commented, "You're home late," as I kissed her absentmindedly on the forehead.

"More work than I know what to do with," Amber gushed. She didn't seem to notice my hesitation. "It can get crazy around the holidays. Lots of single and-or lonely viewers at home looking for some comfort in fantasy."

Despite the huge impact it had had on our lives, we rarely talked about her work or about adult film, and I felt a certain surprise. She sounded glad of the work, like she was giving something special to her 'lonely viewers.' Hearing the blonde's voice, Daisy came down the hall from the living room. She paused in the doorway, flicked on the light, and then crossed to the table. She joined the group hug.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw that the window across the way was empty.

Funny,

I thought.

Once, just the sight of Mia might have fueled some jack-off fantasies. Now, though, I have four beautiful babes who want nothing more than to make me happy...

Amber rested her face against my shoulder and sighed contentedly. "I'm glad to be home," she murmured.

There's a certain amount of responsibility in that,

I appended silently.

Making people happy isn't always the easiest job.

Ironically, recognizing that fact made me think about the one woman who

didn't

seem to care about making me happy.

Terra.

* * *

Terra was not gentle.

Every day this week, I'd dragged my wrung-out body to a workout with a trainer who seemed intent on punishing me for years of unhealthy habits and behaviors. I'd only missed once, on Monday, when I'd convinced myself it was okay to take the day off after a long, tiring weekend.

Wrong move.

When I came in on Tuesday, Terra said nothing about my absence. I noticed, though, that all of the basic punching and kicking combinations we'd started to incorporate had been stripped from the ensuing workout. We were back to the beginning, a punishing circuit of suicides and bodyweight exercises that wrung my lungs out until I felt like I was sweating oxygen and couldn't keep the breath inside my body.

Despite the pain, though, it was strangely exhilarating. When I got through a particularly grueling set and fell flat onto the mat for a brief respite, I felt a certain respect emanating from the exotic woman. When her stern expression eased it felt earned, like my invested effort was a worthy offering to my still-somewhat-frightening mentor.

We rarely spoke. There was little conversation, at least. She ordered, and I followed those orders. My body ached and strained but I remembered why I was doing it and I kept going. I didn't want to disappoint the woman. I was also starting to learn, slowly, that I didn't want to disappoint

myself.

I was pleased that I was seeing things in such a positive light, and part of me wondered if it was my time spent with Daisy, who seemed able to see the good side of any situation.

* * *

"This is great!" the beautiful redhead grinned, as she and I turned the corner into Daphne Park.

It was early Saturday morning, and after last week's antics our Friday night had been a tame, stay-at-home event. Despite an early bedtime, Carmen had been impossible to rouse this morning when I woke for our morning jog.

"'S the weekend," she groaned, with a kind of bone-deep weariness that I'd only ever seen mastered by teenagers. I left, hoping that more rest would do her good. Luckily, her sister had been more than happy to accept my invitation.

I smiled back at Day, happy to be sharing the place with an enthusiastic newcomer. "Your sister is really the one who found it," I commented, wanting to give credit where it was due. "She showed it to me and thought it would be a great place to have some sort of get together. You know, like a barbecue with friends and all that."

The 18-year-old was striding forward toward several picnic benches. They were conveniently located by a barbecue at the edge of the trees. The morning was a little chilly, so she had worn her usual baby blue tracksuit. It clung to her slender, alluring figure and I couldn't help but stare.

"Have you started setting that up?"

Her question surprised me from thoughts of approaching her from behind, wrapping my hands around her slim waist and pulling her back against my growing hard-on. "Ahem, no..." I said, feeling suddenly abashed. "I had maybe thought that we could come here for Thanksgiving or something..."

Daisy was turning around, her hands clapping to her cheeks in surprise. "

Chance!"

she groaned loudly. "We don't have much time! Thanksgiving is

this

week, dummy, and then our... well, birthday and stuff. I'll bet you haven't even started thinking about

Christmas,

either!"

I noticed how she rushed over the mention of her own coming celebration, but didn't want to press. Daisy was an open book when she wanted to be, so I could live with her not talking about her birthday — and the party where she was going to cut things off permanently with her ex — until she was ready.

"Sorry," I said lamely. "I just... I guess I've gotten wrapped up in things. I'm not the best long-term planner."

"Ha." The 18-year-old snorted teasingly. "You're right. From the guy who couldn't even book a reservation on the way to a restaurant."

I opened my mouth in a half-laugh, unable to believe she would call me out on that. Then, she winked, calm green eyes sparkling with the kind of mischievous glee I usually expected from her sister. I froze in surprise, then I chuckled darkly, and took a step forward.

Mmm...

I thought.

Someone's looking to play.

I tried to summon up the persona of a cocky, in-control Dominant responding to a cheeky Submissive. "Watch that disrespectful mouth of yours, darling, unless you're looking to be disciplined when we get home."

"Oh?" Daisy had stepped back into the shadow of the small grove, her back against one of the trees. Her fingers rose to the zipper of her hoodie and her green eyes were deep and sparkling. "I thought we might do it right... here..."

My mouth went dry as her hands slowly

zipped

down the front of her jacket, baring smooth, pale skin. My baggy running shorts were no match for the erection that was now clearly evident. I felt myself slowly padding toward her, like I was being pulled closer by sheer magnetism.

Her perky tits were constrained by a sports bra that, miraculously, matched her jacket and bottoms. I wondered if they came as a set. And if her panties matched, as well. Her abs were bare and smooth, and then my hands were flat against her stomach and sliding around her hips.

Daisy hissed a little at the contact.

"Cold..."

she murmured, leaning back against the tree.

"Warm me up," I challenged, and I kissed her.

My mouth pressed her into the trunk, her hood falling back as her head tilted up and her hands caught in the front of my shirt. Her skin was warm under my hands, glowing with heat, radiating into my core and down between my legs where I ground my bulge into her body.

She could feel my hardness and I felt her moan into the kiss, her breath gasping into my throat. Her hands slid down my belly and over the tent in my shorts, squeezing and fondling.

I growled, and pulled back, tugging her lower lip gently between my front teeth. I stared into her eyes. "You've been a naughty little minx, haven't you?" I murmured. "You made fun of your Dom in public, where anyone could see and hear. What will they think of me if I don't discipline you?"

Daisy widened her eyes innocently and fluttered her lashes.

"Sir..."

she gasped, playing along. "Right here? In front of everyone?"

I smirked, glancing around at the empty park. We were still on the edge of the trees, but even from here the street seemed vacant. It was still only a little after 6 in the morning. No one was out this early on a Saturday.

'That's right," I agreed, turning back to her. My eyes roamed down her body hungrily, and I suddenly realized that I hadn't paid much sexual attention to this twin of late. Most of my energy, in fact, had been with the other one. But though the sisters might be nearly identical, physically, they held themselves in different ways, they moved differently, and I abruptly recognized what I'd been missing.