The seemingly endless maze of blocks finally delivered them to the freeway and from there, the voyage was smooth and graceful. Sliding along the expansive lanes, Mina watched the other traffic slip by, the people within locked to their own personal struggles of life and love, each of them small and insignificant but still a part of the great machine that kept civilisation trundling relentlessly on. She resented them, but needed them to hide her.
Lounging in the sumptuous interior, she soaked in the soft warmth of the sun as it slid through the filtered windows and onto her skin, letting her bask in its glory and watch with idle eyes the passing of suburbs and industrial zones.
Soon they branched off from the main flow of traffic and chose a sparser freeway that traversed the coast side. Winding along the ragged cliffs and mounts of the sea front, the meandering road offered a wonderful view of the ocean, the broad expanse winking with golden eyes as the sun bounced its rays upon the vast stretches of deep blue. The world rose up to her left as a mighty wall of stone and lush vegetation, while plummeting at her side into pointed rocks that were lashed with foam by rolling waves. A low barrier of stone was the only partition between the road and a lethal plunge, a danger that went unnoticed as her eyes remained mesmerised on the image arrayed beside her, a vision all the more astounding because of the sudden and radical contrast to the cramped city.
A long descent lowered them to the beaches, the freeway spilling along to divide sand from grass, the low waves scudding along to break early and deprive the small squadrons of wetsuit clad surfers a decent ride.
All the way Mina could recognise the route through the one way glass. They were heading back to the site of her initial trespass. Covering her smile, she started to explore the facilities on offer and found an unusually well stocked bar. A menial office worker would most certainly take the advantage presented by the rich brands of champagne and wine on offer within, and keeping to character she helped herself.
When they pulled into the parking lot, Mina was feeling more than a little light-headed. There was no way the amounts she had consumed should have elicited such results. They had to have increased the percentage proof of the drinks, making those imbibing them more equable to whatever it was awaiting them at the building with the effects of enhanced inebriation.
The chauffeur again took a long time to emerge from her compartment, making Mina again wonder what was going on up there. Her passenger door was opened and she was shown out, and immediately noticed a stiffness to the driver, as though she had been kept rigorously still for the entire drive.
As she slid free, Mina found that two cheery faced people were waiting for her, poised like sentinels for her exit. Dressed in loose suits of obvious means, the man and woman were adorned with the wide, insincere but captivating grin of the professional salesman or con artist. The practised facades were matched with equally joy filled and enthusiastic tones as they approached and fell in around her in the manner of life long friends.
Mina immediately saw that both wore rings akin to the ones she had seen on Asclly, but she could not gain a close enough look to see what their rings portrayed. When their hands were not in pockets they were gesturing wildly to carry Mina’s gaze to where they wished.
‘Welcome, Miss Kraken, I’m Bob, and this is Laura,’ beamed the man, his hair flowing back into a short ponytail, his features slim and feral. ‘I’m so glad you could come.’ His smooth hands bore groomed nails, his suit pressed, the colours the product bore being of designer quality co-ordination. The diligent attention to his appearance indicated a wealthy stature.
‘May we call you Mina?’ asked the woman with hope, her round face full of happiness, her cool eyes twinkling. She was like a twin to Bob with her immaculate cosmetics, delicate blonde locks, perfected attire and a manicure that had each nail identical in length, unbroken by any manual work.
‘Sure,’ she replied with trepidation, the chauffeur fetching her bags as she was shown through the large glass doors.
The interior seemed considerably more alive than last she was here. There was no sign of the prowling armed guards, the cameras were secluded and could easily be overlooked and seemed to be placed more to observe the comings and goings of the lobby than anything else. As she was escorted deeper, she could not help but detect their sly single eye following her as her prospective employers watched and studied, appraising her with anonymity.
Smartly dressed persons strolled to and fro, bearing papers and discs, chatting on corners. It made her more uneasy than she already was. The place was much more threatening now than when she was sneaking through at night. Then, the danger was apparent, the hazards known and realised, here she was lost behind a pleasant mask of doting fondness and could not see what was coming. This place had teeth during the day, the atmosphere tense when she passed. Without exception, she was scrutinised as she travelled. The other employees, almost all exclusively female studied her with ravenous eyes. Their regards were made covertly, but to Mina they were clear enough, the sideways glances from within the corners of their gazes. Looks flicked from reading papers, jumping up to her, capturing glimpses and trying to hide them. A slight pant betrayed those who had sprinted to their current position, informed of her route, and now trying to look typically congruous so they would not arouse suspicion as she passed.
Led to a lift, she was shown to the upper reaches as Bob and Laura continued a practised stream of data at her, all of it designed to impress and make her feel at home. Talk of massive profits, job satisfaction, a future, friends, security and experience, every trick in the book was being used to soothe her and leave her besotted with this place.
A plush office with a wall spanning view of the ocean was her destination, and there, a circle of comfortable chairs accepted the trio. In this informal setting they started to ask questions. At first they seemed innocent enough - allergies, past medical history, family medical history. Then they started to delve deeper, entering sexual history, how many lovers had she had? Had she ever been married, or engaged? Had she even thought about it? Were children important to her? Did she have many friends? What was the longest friendship she had? What family did she have and what was her relationship with them like?
She replied to grant the impression that she had no ties, that she was easily uprooted and transferred elsewhere with no wish to follow the ordinary pursuits of house and husband. She had the unerring feeling of being watched, that they were examining her body language, seeing if she were lying, so they might gain the truth to every answer via her minutiae.
At the end of the interview they expressed that all was well and that only a medical remained, an event they dismissed as a mere formality, an irritating instance of their insurance companies that they would do without if they could.
At some unheard command a seamless section of wall yawned wide, parting and revealing a small elevator. She was shown within and her two interviewers bade her farewell, reaching in and warmly shaking her hand.
‘Well, good luck with your new post. I hope we shall see you again.’
‘You’re not coming with me?’ Mina asked, growing worried at their unexpected desertion.
‘Afraid not, Mina. The medical isn’t our department. This elevator will take you to the examination room, and then they’ll handle your recruitment details from there.’
The doors closed with a soft hiss, locking and then starting a gradual descent, leaving her with the residual image of the impious grin both interviewers had worn as she stepped through the doors.
The polished metal box reflected her in every wall, showing her from every direction as she continued downwards, clearing the bottom of the building and entering unknown sub-levels. There were no controls on the featureless interior - this was a direct and exclusive route into the bowels of the structure.
A sudden jarring halt almost threw her to the floor. Flicking her eyes around with conce
rn, she tried to see if there were any other ways out of this gleaming coffin. A soft crackle of audio static emerged and suddenly she was being addressed, the voice pouring through the interior, its source unable to be defined.
‘Miss Mina Kraken, as a prelude to your examination, would you please remove all clothing and jewellery from your person.’
They were watching her from somewhere, but where? What portion of this cage was a one-way window instead of burnished steel?
‘What’s going on?’ she growled, trying to find the hints that might tell her where the camera and speaker were located, so she might disable them before using her skills to forge an escape.
‘Miss Kraken, if you do not do as commanded, you will be disciplined,’ the voice replied with testiness.
The orders set her hairs on end, the fact that she was being demanded to do something against her will.
‘I want out of this box!’ she yelled, and slammed her fist to the door.
‘As a designated employee of the Charybdis Project, you have no opinion or will to give, Miss Kraken. Now obey the command or be chastised for your insolence,’ the man repeated with more than a trace of asperity in his voice.
Putting her hands to the door, she tried to hook her fingers into the centre seam, to try and prize them open. It was useless, the manufacturer had prevented such a deed with engineered exactitude, and she couldn’t even get a fingernail into the gap.
There was a brief hum of an electrical charge washing through the metal and Mina unleashed a yell of shock. Dropping to her knees she cradled her arms, the voltage burst having nipped the flesh, numbing it slightly, leaving her fingertips hot. It was not a severe shock, just enough to cause discomfort, her cry having been more from surprise than pain.
‘Remove your clothes, Miss Kraken!’
‘No!’ she spat, throwing her head back from her kneeling pose, furious at being controlled so, at being so helpless to defend herself.
The soft purring hum of the generators sent a sheet of fire through the floor that wriggled spry tendrils of duress into her legs, her tights doing nothing to stem the current.
With a cry she jumped up, dropping against the wall for support and massaging the flesh of her thighs and calves, the shock having left them prickly with riots of heat.
Another jolt of sensation caught her rear as it rested against the cool metal, the spikes of voltage jumping through her skirt and underwear, casting her forward. She tottered uneasily on her shoes, hunched over slightly, holding her aching rear, eyes clenched with endurance as she weathered the far sterner effects of the shock.
‘Miss Kraken, it is futile to deny us. You are now nothing more than corporate property. You will give in to us eventually, but you will find life far less strenuous if you simply acquiesce of your own free will. You will be trained to obey, the process can be pleasant or harsh, depending solely on how willing you are to co-operate.’
The spines of havoc in her bottom were retreating, leaving her sense of frustration churning her thoughts with resentment. There was no way out, she had to do as they wanted just to get free. She had a mission to complete. If she simply did as she was told, surrendered power for just a while, she could achieve success.
The generator thrummed again, gathering another more mordant shock, its signal louder each time as they relentlessly increased the setting, seeking the level that would eclipse the fortitude of their latest recruit.
‘Wait, wait!’ she implored with a snarl, hands raised in surrender.
She was tempted to continue her defiance, to sit on the cold floor and endure their attack, show them she was beyond their scope to master. But she needed to find out what was wished of her first. If such bold refusal met with dismissal, she would have failed. Such acts of rebellion would have to wait for a more opportune moment.
Opening her shirt a button at a time, she slipped out of the white garment, displaying the strapless bra beneath before dropping the garment to the reflective floor.
As she revealed herself for the gaze of her captors, Mina felt a sudden rush of excitement. It caught her by surprise with its power - the sudden wicked delight in this act of enforced stripping.
A rush of adrenaline made her stomach flutter. The feeling of being defeated, of having been conquered, was a surprising result to what she should have found abhorrent. Dismissing it, she denied it as a by-product of the electrical castigation, that her senses were merely confused.
Opening the zip of her skirt, she unbuttoned it at the waist and dropped the material sheath, the fabric airing a delicate rustle against the nylon shell of her legs.
Kicking off her shoes as she stepped from it, Mina opened her bra and dropped it onto the pile, unveiling her bare assets for the voyeurs, the smooth skin presented in the facets of the mirrored interior.
Standing only in her tights and underwear, she crossed her arms over her breasts to deprive them of their show, scowling at this treatment. Yet it was there again, lurking at the back of her mind like a monster in the night. She knew they wanted her naked, but she was stopping here, until they forced her on. She wanted them to defeat her, to bend her to their will. Unless they could overcome her stalwart refusal, she would not comply.
‘All of it, Miss Kraken,’ stated the voice, and a short jolt of woe was sent through her feet, making her cry out and drop to the floor, nursing her pained soles. Despite her little pricks of eagerness for this ordeal, she relented and peeled herself free of the hosiery, dragging her underwear off and adding them to the pile.
Huddled in the corner as a bare ball of femininity, holding herself for protection and warmth, she looked around, frightened, not so much of what they would do to her, but what their deeds had set free within her.
Something had been let loose of its leash, a dedication, a vice she could not fathom or explain, an iniquity that was prowling in her thoughts. For the first time in her life, Mina was actually scared.
A faint seeping whine of pressure sounded against the quiet. Mina knew what it was and flicked her eyes around to try and find the source.
The low whistle of gas was a momentary precursor to the acrid cloying scent of an anaesthetic being pumped in to merge with her air to more effectively subdue her.
Jumping up, she grabbed her shirt and held it to her face to help try and filter out the vapours. Pounding her fist to the door she screamed for help, wailing at the top of her lungs. Skipping back she flung kicks against the unforgiving steel, fighting with all her desperate might, her heel aching from such a virulent onslaught.
A cloud started to settle through her thoughts, muffling them, making her senses dull. She was still awake, could still think and see, but her body was becoming heavy, difficult to control. A haze rolled through her and she collapsed onto her seat, the shirt falling away. Propped up by the mirrors, Mina watched her slack face and vacant gaze in the opposite wall. As more strength drooled from her, she slowly slid down the cool walls and flopped onto her side, automatic instinct causing her to breathe unreservedly of the new atmosphere.
Her ability to move was almost non-existent; she was trapped, a prisoner in her own mind, helpless to whatever they were going to do to her. Her attempt to infiltrate this organisation had backfired drastically.
The doors to the lift opened, revealing two forms. The women were almost as naked as she was, except that each had a polished metal waspie belt cinching their waist. The miniature corset pulled in between ribs and just over their hips, its perfectly moulded contours dragging into an hourglass shape. There were no laces or seams, the device could have been moulded straight onto them so featureless and perfect was its manufacture. A triangular pane dropped from the front and slipped a band between their legs, the mirror-like cone an efficient chastity device.
Other than these strange devices of sexual incarceration, the two shapely young women wore nothing
save gasmasks to protect from lingering fumes. The black latex contraptions hid their features, and a plastic visor revealed eyes marked with subtle shades of make-up. Their heads were shaved to the scalp, dark stubble and latex straps running across them.
They entered with complete equability to the situation and despite Mina’s best efforts to resist, the chemical agent proved a far stronger adversary and kept her impotent.
Taking her by the arms, they hauled her slack form up and then drew her out, her feet slipping against the floor, the power of even staggering placed well beyond her.
The chamber without was a place of surgical ambience. White tiled walls and floor were offset against a mirrored ceiling. A line of nine examination tables followed one wall, the padded black leather seats adjustable to a variety of indecent poses. Stirrups with black leather trammels emerged around them, carried by fixed poles. The other walls held cabinets, drawers, places where unknown instruments awaited her.
One other exit existed, a white door set opposite that bore no handle or lock. The room was a thoroughfare, carrying those who were lowered to it to other places once they had been processed within.
The room was not unoccupied either, a man in white robes loitered beside an awaiting table, stretching his hands into surgical gloves and hiding the ring he wore. A white rubber gasmask of identical design to his assistants left him devoid of visage, the mirrored visor even keeping his eyes lost to Mina. Powerful of build, he strapped a plastic apron of white across his front while the two women worked.
Mina was set onto the cold plastic of the chair, its reclining back leaving her almost lying flat. Unable to do anything save watch with mortified angst, her legs were drawn open and set into stirrups. Buckles were placed over and around her ankles, enforcing the lewd split. She forced herself to fight, trying with all her will to move her reluctant flesh. Straining with her thoughts, she yelled with her mind, frantic to achieve movement, but it was useless.
Captured by Charybdis Page 5