Searching for the Kingdom Key

by TylerRose.

  “You weren’t kidding,” he said when he caught up to her at the side exit.

  “I may have to teleport out of the strip club to my room and then go wherever I’m intending to go,” she said as they got onto the lift.

  “We’ll see what happens over the next few days. Work out a plan if needed.”

  She took the timeto talk with the girls before the station opened, going into their barracks rooms. Also when they were alone in the dressing room. She learned exactly how each of them was brought here, through conversation and thought, how they were kept in perpetual slavery. They were given a room for a couple days. Food. Clothing. That was the starter bill they were chained to and it was added to at every opportunity.

  She learned the patrons were free to hit them, beat them, kick them, fuck them any way they wanted. The girls had no say in anything done to them. If they tried to complain, Speenar would himself beat them and rape them and send them back to work.

  Speenar was the law on the station, which meant there was no law. Drugs were bought and sold openly. The games were all cheats one way or another. Even the wait staff was kept in slavery for the cost of new uniforms or broken dishes, wrong orders, sent back food.

  “They will find a way to make you their slave too,” Jeera said quietly on the third day, and went out to perform her routine.

  Tyler watched her dance. She was good, had a way about her. Looking around the room at the men willing to spend their money on watered down drinks and cheap whores, she knew there was so much she could do with this place if she had the chance. Clean it up. Kick out the drugs and the lowlifes.

  “Are you ready to go on?”

  She looked up to see Solomon. “Just about.”

  “You are distracted.”

  “No. Missing someone for a moment is all. Now I’m not.”

  She walked away from him, back into the dressing room to put on her eyes and decide what mood she was in tonight and what songs she wanted to perform. She would start the night off with Lonely is the Night and Love Ain’t No Stranger.

  “What would happen if Speenar and Solomon were gone?” she asked Jeera when Jeera came back after her dance.

  “Some other asshole would take over the station and nothing would change.”

  “What if I took it?”

  “You?”

  “Shhh. If I declared the station mine and made serious changes, would you be with me? Could you get the girls with me?”

  “I could,” Jeera said out the corner of her eye.

  “Keep it to yourself. Might be I can’t do anything,” Tyler said, and left the dressing table to teleport out to the transport hub for her entrance.

  The crowds were now standing room only, with hundreds of men packing the strip club. Word had gotten out about the new singer, as she’d known would happen.

  Alone in her room with a good supper after her last performance, she wrote down new rules she would implement if she could convince Earnol to let her stay and run the place. The station would have to be put on a legal path or this same situation would happen again and again. Someone had to institute a sustainable and legal system. She would be the one to do it.

  She’d been spending her free time getting to know the station, the wait staff, the problems they encountered.

  “Miss Rose.”

  Heard outside the alcove she often sat in between performances. She opened the door herself to see a short man in a rather nondescript cloak.

  “Yes.”

  “Rose of Earth and very out of her place in time, you know you are in danger from many sides. Wear this. At all times.”

  He put a metal something in her palm and closed her hand.

  “When you fear most for your life, cry out loud as you can and say ‘sanctuary’ and that is where you will be.”

  He turned away to dash off, leaving her wondering what the heck he was talking about. Looking at the thing in her hand, she saw a silver ring with a circle on top. Split in curving halves, one white and one black, looking very much like the yin/yang symbol of Chinese philosophy. Looking up to find him, she saw he was already gone.

  “There’s Rose!” someone blurted, and a dozen men came banging on the door.

  With an irritated sigh, she teleported to the strip club dressing room to wait for her next performance.

  “Are you unhurt?”

  She looked up from fixing her eye liner to see Solomon.

  “I was just told there was a small riot outside the alcove you favor.”

  “I’m fine. They never touched me. I’m sure they were greatly disappointed when they found the room empty.”

  “Yes, they were. Arran was very annoyed, however.”

  “I’m sure he’ll survive.”

  “Not until he tells Speenar what he thinks of having to protect you at every turn. Have supper with me tonight.”

  “Fine.”

  “In my room.”

  “Not fine,” she said. “The large dining room or not at all.”

  “Very well.”

  “Now go away. I’m getting ready to go on.”

  He did, and Etraka leaned in from the other side.

  “He gives you a choice? You must be someone more special to him. He’ll have a Rolcha in the elevator if he happens to catch one there.”

  “I know,” Tyler replied under her breath. “I know.”

  She knew exactly what almost every girl thought of him, including some on the wait staff. He was the fire she had to play with.

  “I cannot providepersonal security for her everywhere she goes,” Arran complained to Speenar. “Not I myself. I have other duties. It grows worse every day and she’s only been here four full days.”

  “Then assign a detail,” Solomon replied.

  “It’s more than just a detail. I’ve had to lock out her floor so that only those who have rooms on that floor can get on it.”

  “Good idea. You should do that for all the floors anyway,” Solomon said.

  “It is not a good use of our limited resources,” Arran insisted to Speenar.

  “I agree. It is not. Move her into my suite,” Solomon said.

  “Cannot the owner of the station have something to say?” Arran spat at Solomon.

  “I agree,” Speenar said, and tossed a glance to Solomon over the counter. “Move her in with you. I cannot have these disruptions to Arran’s day just because she wants to go to her room.”

  “She’s not going to be happy about that,” Solomon said.

  Speenar laughed. “That will be your problem, not mine. I do not care so long as she is on that stage when she is supposed to be.”

  Which was that moment. She came out in that bustier dress she’d worn the first day to perform her last two songs of the night.

  “Arran, let a couple men get through unexpectedly,” Solomon told him. “The only way to convince her is if someone breaks through the line and reaches her.”

  “I can’t let her actually be hurt. I still have to do my job.”

  “She won’t be hurt. She has to see that it is entirely possible that it might happen, is all. Do it,” Solomon said, walking away to take his place near the stage to watch her.

  In truth, getting her into his apartment had been his goal from the first night. This was the perfect way to manipulate her into it. Every time he heard her sing, he had to have her all the more.

  “Rose, are you ready?” he called into the dressing room two minutes after she’d walked off.

  “I am now. I’m tired. I want to go to my room.”

  “Let’s get out of the club first,” he said, and let her walk ahead of him.

  Arran distracted one of his men long enough for an over-heated and far too drunk patron to push his way into the path. Arms around her, he professed undying love. She reacted to shove him away and Solomon stepped in to finish the job. Arran’s men lost control of their line. Twenty men crushed in.

  Solomon picked her up bodily over his shoulder and shoved through with kicks where
needed. To the teleport device and directly to his floor, he had her inside his apartment before she could protest.

  “Door lock. Vocal match to open” he barked, setting her down. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. Asshole grabbed me is all.”

  “Well, that’s it. You’re staying here tonight.”

  “There’s no need. I can teleport to my room.”

  “And tomorrow when there are ten men in the corridor when you walk out of your room? They cannot do that on this floor,” he said, and lifted her arm.

  Fast as a snake, he slid a thin metal disc on a transparent band up her arm just under the shoulder.

  “What’s that?” she yanked away too late.

  “A device to make sure you stay here. It’s called a mental chain. Good for making sure telepaths can’t use their abilities. Get out of that dress.”

  “I don’t have anything to change into,” she said, testing the waters of his true intent.

  “You won’t need anything.”

  “So all this was just a ploy to get me here and have me as your prisoner. Was Arran in on it? He intentionally let the men through? And Speenar? Did you have a bet with him?”

  “So many unimportant questions. I want you. I have you. And this,” he held up a little gray colored box with a dial on it. “Will help me decide what level is appropriate to keep you confined. You can perform. You can go shopping and eat at a restaurant. Tomorrow. Tonight it will ensure your compliance.”

  “I’m not going to have sex with you,” she flat out denied, and tried to teleport.

  Rather than appearing in her own room, she fell to her knees with the pain that gripped her from head to feet.

  “Tried to teleport, didn’t you?” he smiled, looking down on her. “I suggest you not try that again.”

  He grasped her other arm to pull her to her feet and was met by a flurry of sharp nails and hard fists. The fight was on. She fought him all the way to his bed. Bent over it, a hand in her hair pulled her head up from the mattress. The side of a cold blade pressed against her neck.

  “Stop it.”

  “You won’t kill me. You want to play with me,” she snarled.

  “I can hurt you in many ways with this knife without killing you. I could cut your larynx and you’ll never sing again.”

  That stilled her.

  “It’s a simple situation. You will sing five sets a night. Other than that, you will be here awaiting me. You will do what I want, when I want, how I want, and are my personal slave.”

  She laughed. “You think a little rough handling and a threat are enough to make me do all that?”

  “I could just beat you with my belt.”

  She laughed harder, face turning crimson with her glee. “Please do! Hey, get a flogger out while you’re at it. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good flogging.”

  “What?”

  He stepped around her legs to lie on his side on the bed, turning her onto her side.

  “You like to be whipped?” he more stated than asked.

  “Earth has many pleasures and I have embraced them. A little struggle for dominance? So what. A hard fuck? You’re going to have to be very hard to beat what I’ve already taken for years. Punish me for something? Go ahead. I would prefer the belt. Single strikes, with the other end held taut, slammed down onto my ass will eventually make me cry real tears. Eventually. Just don’t try to kiss me, and don’t ever put your dick in my mouth.”

  Device in his hand, he turned the dial up a notch or two.

  Slight buzzing in her head muddied her thoughts. She felt the zipper slide down, the dress pulled off, her boots removed. Her wrists were put into cuffs and clipped together. A cable leashed her to the head of the bed. He picked her up to place on her back in the middle of the bed. Another strap came up over the side to wrap around her thigh above the knee and also the top of her calf. Pulled sideways and repeated on the opposite side of the bed, she was forced open for him and unable to do anything about it. A leather bar was put between her teeth, its strap buckled under her ear while she snarled at him.

  The device lessened in intensity, allowing the haze and blur to become clear images.

  “I’ll just tie you to my bed,” he told her, and kissed her lips.

  He got himself a drink, came back to undress while looking at her. Noticing items on the floor, he picked up the money and her memory card to put them on the table by the head of the bed.

  “I adore that expression in your eyes,” he said, coming to the bed and taking position. “You would try to kill me with your bare hands if I let you loose. We’re going to play a game. I’m going to pretend you want me as much as I want you and that you want to be here. You’re going to pretend you don’t want to kill me.”

  She expected him to ram home and ride her hard, but he had her more like she was a willing lover. No pain. No threats. He turned into an attentive lover and her mind was muddied enough that her body grew into its arousal. Tipped over the edge, forced into a climax, hating him every second and vowing he would pay…damned if she didn’t cum again.

  A moment after he was done, he untied her right leg. She tried to kick him and got a shockingly hard spank to the inside of her thigh. Forced onto her side, he tied the knee restraints together.

  “There. Now we both can sleep in the bed. Take care not to fall out.”

  He turned off the light and spooned in behind her. Arm around her middle to hold her, a kiss to her ear.

  “Good night, darling. Sleep well.”

  She had no doubt he was completely off his rocker.

  He slept. She did not, trying to think her way out of this. She’d played Thomas’ captive often enough that this wouldn’t be much different. This wasn’t role play and pretend, however. She hadn’t been careful enough, diligent enough, around men she knew damn well she couldn’t trust for two seconds.

  Enough of that, she chided herself.

  Solomon was a criminal and criminals could always be trusted to do a criminal thing. He would get sloppy. He’d turn the device thing down enough that she could break through. Or he’d leave it out and she’d do it herself. She’d send the burst packet. The team would come and that would be that.

  She’d only just fallen asleep when he woke her with his dick sliding in from behind. Despite her anger, she found herself attaining climax several times.

  “Be as angry as you want,” he said when he’d finished. “You fuck splendidly well regardless.”

  He went back to sleep and they were both awakened by his tenth hour alarm. He got up, showered and dressed and unclipped the leash from the cuffs. Then unclipped the knee restraints.

  “I’m not taking those off, so you’ll just have to walk on your knees,” he told her. “Go to the toilet.”

  She slid down to the floor, and contemplated letting her bladder go right there by the bed. That would only give him more reasons not to trust her. She walked on her knees and he followed. She sat on the toilet and he stood in the doorway to watch. She kicked the door closed and he laughed.

  “You’re going to need me in a minute,” he teased, and waited that minute before going in and letting her have four inches of slack between her wrist cuffs. “Now you can wipe.”

  Directing her out into the front room, he saw the light flashing beside the door to indicate a waiting message. Leashing her to the wall, he opened the door to find her suitcase and brought it in. He opened it, pulled out the hangers and hung the garments on the coat bar next to the door.

  “You haven’t worn this one before. You’ll wear it to perform in tonight.”

  He went through to the bedroom again, and brought out a nearly sheer halter sheath in light blue and pair of sandals.

  “I took note of your sizes and bought these a couple days back. The dress matches your eyes. You will come with me on my rounds and this is what you’ll wear.”

  Her eyes sneered at him and he only smiled.

  “You wanted to know how the girls are getting h
ere from other times. You’re going to learn. Give you some incentive for getting out of this trap I have you in. Then I can hunt you down and capture you again.”

  He turned the device up a couple notches and sat her on the floor to take the knee braces off. She put the halter dress on and he unclipped and re-clipped her wrists at her back with enough slack to let her arms hang almost naturally at her sides. He clipped a chain to itself around her neck and attached a leash that he would hold or have held as needed and they left his apartment.

  Down to one of the shipping bays, with Speenar and Arran already there.

  “Didn’t think you were going to make it,” Speenar smiled, and appraised the nearly naked female. “In her proper place, I see. That didn’t take much effort did it?”

  “More than you know,” Solomon replied. “She’s a fighter.”

  “Good. I would have her later, after this business is concluded.”

  A light above flashed.

  “Incoming.”

  Two men arrived with four women on their knees. One of them was one of the other Earth telepaths. Amy. She locked eyes with Tyler, recognizing her. So that meant she’d been taken after they’d met. Speenar took Amy by the bar between her wrists and pulled her up.

  “I’ll take this one for now. Put the rest to work in the Rolcha rooms.”

  He walked away, pulling Amy along, and two of the others started a kicking fight. Solomon reached in to help Arran and didn’t notice that he dropped the leash. Tyler grabbed the device control out of his back pocket and ran. She found the maintenance closet in the control room and pulled the door open. Door shut and light off, she turned the mental chain off and ripped it from her arm.

  The flush and rush of her telepathy returning was dizzying. She pushed through it to teleport the cuffs off herself. They fell to the floor with a thumping clatter. In the pitch black, she brought a broom to her hands. She shoved the broom’s metal length through the square handle of the door, the bristle end laying on the empty shelf above the mop bucket.

  Pulling her thoughts together, she took the burst packet ring off her left hand and clamped it hard between her palms. One solid, cohesive thought and she sent it. An image of Speenar grasping the bar between Amy’s hands and taking her away.