Mind Games

by Cecilia Tan

  As the orgasm hit her, the bitter flood of Steve’s come coated her tongue and she gagged, coughing and choking, but it seemed like it was happening very far away. She felt hands lifting her, moving her, the star of Steve’s orgasm burning bright in her mind...

  Derek. She could see him in the parking lot, talking with someone else, a man... someone... but the moment she touched his mind, his words died away.

  Wren!

  I’m here. I’m in the basement of the club. Abby’s here, too.

  She felt him put his hand on the roof of the SUV, as lust, sudden and consuming, swept through him. She could feel the pulse of his blood in his cock, as he went from flaccid to straining in a matter of heartbeats. Wren... are you being held captive?

  Not really. I think they'll let me go after this... Then an aftershock of orgasm hit her, and drew her attention back to her body. She was sitting up now, Ramon behind her, hands cupping her breasts, while Steve lapped at her clit. And Evan was on the bed beside her, Abby writhing under him, as he thrust so hard Abby’s head nearly hit the headboard behind them. Derek... I need you.

  God, Wren. You... you make me feel...

  I know. Wait a moment...

  She let herself go, another orgasm shaking her, even as she used the peak of her power to plunder her sister's mind, to answer the questions crowding her own thoughts.

  Oh, shit, that’s what I was afraid of. She pushed the knowledge at Derek without words, that the club was run by a telepath. Since he needed sex to trigger his powers, a sex club was a useful front. But some women got addicted to sex with him. Abby had been one of them, but she was still functional. But there were others who were not so lucky, who basically lay in a haze of lust day after day. They kept them hidden, locked away in another part of the cellar. Only Evan and Abby knew the truth about them and otherwise they really didn’t know what to do other than to keep them hidden. Only the promise that Evan would come and "feed" them would convince them to eat.

  Helena Riggs was one of them. She’d had to be restrained after she had masturbated so much she’d damaged herself...

  Wren! I’m coming for you.

  No! Derek, call the police! I'll be okay!

  But her connection to his thoughts went fuzzy, as if his emotions overwhelmed reason. Anger, hurt, jealousy, rage, protectiveness, fear... she felt all of these things tangle in him before she lost her hold.

  And now her attention returned to the people around her. Evan was still fucking Abby hard, and Abby cried out and clung to him in what was obviously the throes of orgasm. As she went limp, he kept on, though, pushing and pushing. Abby convulsed suddenly, crying out again in surprise, and Wren knew he was making her come with his mind.

  But still, he had not come himself. Wren wondered how many times Abby had come while Wren had not been paying attention.

  “Oh, God, Evan...” Abby could barely choke out the words. Wren listened for her thoughts. I don’t think I can take another one.

  But you will, won’t you, my sweet? You wouldn’t want to leave me unsatisfied, would you? That would be far from fair.

  But Evan, God... I don’t know if I can.

  You can. The last time I fucked you with fewer than twelve orgasms, you complained it hadn’t been enough for you.

  I just want you to come, Abby pleaded. I need to feel you come with me! Don’t make me come again if you’re not there yet...

  Ah, but that is the trouble, my sweet. I am trying. Between Helena, and you, and the others, it takes a greater and greater extreme of sensation to get me off.

  Abby reached up then and pinched his nipples hard. Evan responded with a growl, throwing her into the throes of orgasm again. It seemed to Wren that this one went on longer than the others, and at the end of it, Abby’s mouth was slack, her eyes rolled up in her head.

  Wren kicked at Steve, forcing him to move his head as she put one hand on Evan, one on Abby, and pushed. But as she did, Steve slid his fingers inside her, and quite suddenly, all five of them were coming, Ramon in hot spurts against her back, Evan and Abby together, and Steve with a surprised bellow, only a tiny issue coming from his cock after three orgasms in such a short interval.

  And Wren herself was flung out of her body entirely, floating above the scene.

  Evan recovered himself first. “Well,” he said, as he gestured to the others to rouse themselves and help him move the unconscious Abby, and Wren, too. “That was certainly a surprise. It seems there’s more to Wren Delacourt than just being a seer.”

  “Oh, shit,” Steve said. “Do you think she was reading us, too?”

  Evan clucked his tongue. “And even if she was? Steve, you know we have nothing to hide. I plan to tell her of my goals to create a safe haven for people like us as soon as she wakes. Now if you and Ramon could help move them, I’d be grateful. Put Abby in her room. Ramon, put Wren in my bed for now, and then send one of the girls to clean up down here.”

  She followed her body, as Ramon carried her easily through a doorway, down a hall, through a heavier door, and eventually into another room. This was clearly where Evan lived. There was laundry on the floor near a basket, books scattered over the side table, a clothes dresser covered with knickknacks. The small lamp on the bedside table was the only light.

  She looked down at herself, naked, debauched, her lips swollen red and her thighs sticky. Ramon threw a blanket over her and left.

  Out-of-body experiences were one of those things she’d heard about, but never experienced. She racked her brain trying to recall if she’d ever heard a story that included how the experience ended. She tried to touch herself, but she didn’t really have arms to reach with—those were on her body.

  Duh. I should have guessed that.

  Wren was a bit worried to just leave her body there, but she had to know what was happening to Derek. Was he upstairs trying to argue his way in? Or just fight his way in? Her last glimpse of his mind had shown such turmoil.

  And could she even drift away from her body, direct her movements as a spirit, or whatever she was? She tried to feel for Derek again, but her body was utterly sated and her power was weak.

  But she could move. Her consciousness floated up through the floor, and she found herself in the women's dressing room. There was Suzanne, looking at herself in the mirror and chatting with another woman there. They were both wearing something that looked like circus costumes, with feathers on their heads and... oh. Wren finally figured out they were dressed like circus ponies, with small saddles on and reins trailing down each of their backs.

  She moved through the doors into the lounge area. There was Derek! He was in his cowboy outfit and he was talking with Bob, who was in a lion tamer's getup. Their heads were leaning close together. She could not hear what they were saying because she didn’t have ears, though. She focused on Derek. Couldn’t she read him if she really tried...?

  The next thing she knew, she was looking at Bob's serious expression. Through Derek’s eyes. And now she could hear what they were saying. “I understand your worry. If she came here alone and now you don’t see her, it’s natural to worry. You said you talked to her, though?”

  “Well, she called me,” Derek said, a little white lie since she hadn’t "called" him using her cell phone. “But we got cut off. She was telling me she was okay, but that she thought there might be women who were here against their will. She was trying to tell me something about addicts.”

  Bob shook his head. “I haven’t seen any hint of junkies around here, but if they hide it real well... I don’t know, Derek. They seem to run a nice, clean club, and I’d hate to see it busted up by the police over a misunderstanding or a miscommunication, you know? If they’re, like, drugging women into being prostitutes or something, more power to you if you break that kind of thing up, but...”

  “Yeah, I know.” Derek shifted uneasily. “She just sounded... kind of upset, you know? And then we got cut off.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing we brought Charlene with u
s tonight so we could get you in. I think we ought to have a look around and see what we can see. Maybe you'll meet up with Wren and find out everything's okay after all.”

  Derek swallowed his skepticism. There was so much he couldn’t tell Bob, and that weighed on him. He scanned the room, which was much more crowded than the previous week. Lots of people had chosen gladiator and serving-girl kinds of costumes, along with a latex-clad nurse, and one Tarzan and Jane. “All right. We'll have a look around, but if I find anything wrong, just so you know, I’m calling the police.”

  The two men moved to greet Suzanne and Charlene then, and Wren felt a surge of jealousy as Derek put his arm loosely around Charlene’s shoulders. The group made their way into the next room, but the dancer on the stage didn’t hold Derek’s interest even a little, and Charlene happily trotted ahead of him as he held onto her reins.

  The next room already had people in it. Derek was trying not to stare, but the walls were lined with beds like a hospital ward, and there were couples fucking on about half of them. Wren wondered if it were Derek’s thought or her own: God, that man's ass is hairy.

  “What’s beyond this room?” Derek whispered to Charlene.

  “Come on, it gets kinky after this,” she whispered back. She led the way through another door, this one also painted with the vine motif, but with more leaves and the flower at the top was beginning to open. The next room had what looked like a gynecologist’s table, a massage table, and some other odd platforms in it, with one couple already at play. The male partner had laid out an assortment of dildos and things alongside the exam table, and several of them were glistening wet. Two other couples were watching as he moved his arm, clearly pistoning back and forth in an unmistakable motion. Derek drifted closer and Wren shared his shock as he realized the man's entire hand had gone into her. His wrist disappeared where her body began.

  God, you see? Surely your cock isn’t that big, Wren said inside his head. And I’m not made of glass!

  There was no indication that he had heard.

  There were two more doors, one that Charlene indicated went to the women-only area, and the final one, where the flower on the door had fully bloomed.

  They went through to find the room painted mostly black. Here, there were no beds, but there were what looked like medieval torture racks, and the massage table had ropes tied to its legs. The room was empty.

  “You have to bring your own whips and chains,” Charlene explained, "if you’re into that sort of thing.”

  “Er, I’m not,” Derek said. “Just curious. Thanks for taking me through here.”

  They went back to the room where the man was fisting his partner. She was whooping with joy— shouting "oh yeah!”—and Wren could feel Derek couldn’t hold back a grin. He looked at the door to the women-only space.

  “You think anyone’s in there?” he asked Charlene in a whisper.

  “Dunno, you want to see? I'll look first.” She giggled and slipped into the room. A moment later she came back out. “Nope, clear as a whistle.”

  His grin got wider. Everyone’s attention was riveted on the woman and her husband, even the one woman who was corseted like an employee.

  “I'll just take a peek,” he whispered. “You watch the show here, and if I get caught, you won’t get in trouble.”

  Wren’s jealousy spiked again when the woman's answer was to stroke a hand along his cheek with an "aw shucks" expression on her face. But then Derek was on the move. He was thinking that the women-only room probably had a door on its far wall that would possibly connect up with the stage door that the dancer had entered through back in that very first room after the lounge.

  He walked quickly through the mostly pink and yellow-colored room, the sheets thrown over the couches in here done in bright flowered patterns. Yes, there was a curtain, and behind it, a door. He went through it and found himself in a dimly lit service hallway. Wren recognized it and it seemed as she got more excited, so did he. She urged him to find the stairs down. Soon, he had made his way down to the room where "the orgy"—as Wren now thought of it—had taken place.

  He ducked under the stairs suddenly as voices came into earshot.

  “Honestly, Ramon, I don’t know. I have no doubt you’re a spade, but something's blocking you from letting loose your power.”

  “It’s just scary, you know? I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

  “And you won’t. Your ability would only be used to protect those important to us—you know that, right?”

  “It’s still scary...”

  “I know.”

  Their voices faded as they went up the stairs, and Wren could feel Derek putting the facts together. Was Councilman Riggs considered a threat to them? Was that why he was in a coma now?

  Wren tried to remember where her body was lying, tried to lead him toward it. Yes, through the heavy door, it was beyond that.

  Derek’s attention was drawn by a door along the hall, though, that had a padlock on the outside. It was a fairly normal-looking door, but the padlock and hasp had clearly been added later, the screws and latch not quite fitting the door frame and the hasp bent so that the lock would fit. There was light coming from under the door. Why would a locked store room have a light on?

  His heart was hammering as he thought about what Wren had told him. Could Mrs. Riggs be behind this door?

  He knocked on the door. “Hello?”

  A female voice was suddenly close by the door, a hand rattling the knob. “Evan? Is that you?”

  “Helena Riggs?” Derek called.

  “Oh my God, yes, who are you? Ramon? What’s going on? Evan said he was going to come and see me tonight, but he hasn’t been by.” She rattled the doorknob again.

  “Um, please just hang tight, Helena,” he said, wondering if it was a good idea to try to let her out, or if Stockholm Syndrome would complicate matters too much. It might just be best to let the police find her like this...? She might still argue that it was all a kinky sex game, she wasn’t really "kidnapped"...

  Derek leaned against the doorframe, considering. And what if it really was all a kinky sex game? It wasn’t a police matter if a woman left her husband for something more exciting. But if the relationship was truly abusive? Addictive? Derek couldn’t imagine a relationship where being locked in a room all the time was desirable. But he’d seen the "dungeon" upstairs, and clearly there were things he didn’t fathom.

  Wren tugged frantically at him, trying to get him to move. She was so close to him now, she wanted him to find her!

  His feet finally moved, as he realized he might have limited time before he was discovered. He tried the next door down, which was not locked from the outside.

  Nor from the inside. He was startled to find a woman lying on a bed, on top of the bedspread as if someone else had laid her there. That’s Abby! Wren tried to tell him, but once again it didn’t seem he had heard. A quick glance made it look as if she was living in the room, clothes hanging on a rack, books piled by the bed, a poster of a Dali landscape taped to the wall above the bed. She stirred and sat up.

  Recognition washed through him like a swallow of wine. This was either Abby, or the woman he’d seen that had made him think she was here. “Abby Delacourt?”

  “Yeah,” she said tiredly. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m your sister's boyfriend,” he said without hesitation. With conviction and passion. Suddenly Wren felt as if she were spinning. “She’s been worried sick about you.”

  Abby’s face crumpled with guilt. “Oh God. I would have called her, but Evan wanted to try to get her and Steve together, and I would have just messed that up. And Evan doesn’t like me going out too much...”

  Derek waved a hand. “Do you know where Wren is? I’m here to get her out. If you want to stay, that’s up to you.”

  Abby’s guilty look only deepened. “Um, she’s... probably around here somewhere.” She stood up and pulled on a robe, blushing a little. “Come on.”

 
Abby led him to Evan's door. She knocked. “Evan, you in there?”

  He’s not here! Only I’m here! God, this out-of-body stuff was frustrating.

  Abby turned the knob and the door opened easily. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Here she is.”

  Derek hurried to Wren’s side. Abby shifted from foot to foot. “I'll just leave you two alone, how about that?” she said hurriedly, then fled, closing the door behind her. A rattling sound drew Derek’s attention, though, and he hurried to the door, only to find it locked from the outside.

  TEN

  DEREK CURSED AND FLUNG himself hard at the door, but this lock wasn’t quite as flimsy as the one on Mrs. Riggs' door. He cursed again and rubbed his shoulder.

  Wren pulsed with urgency and Derek turned suddenly to look at her. “Wren?” He touched his temple.

  Yes! I’m here! I’m just... disconnected!

  But he didn’t seem to be able to hear her words. Just sense her presence. He went back to the bed and cupped her cheek. “Wren, wake up.”

  She could feel his hand, warm and solid, and yet she was still hovering over the bed, looking down at them. Kiss me, Derek, kiss me, please. Surely that’s all I'll need to wake up...

  He lifted his head, as if he could almost hear her. He brushed his thumb over her lips.

  Yes!

  “Wren, are you in there?” he whispered. She could feel the apprehension rising in him, wondering if the same thing had happened to her as happened to Councilman Riggs.

  No, no, no. I’m right here.

  His fear subsided and he looked at her, puzzled. “I can... feel you’re here. But it’s not like when I can hear you.”

  Yes, yes.

  “Do you... do you want me to kiss you? I have this urge to kiss you.”

  Yes!

  “I feel... I feel this sense of rightness about it.” He leaned over and brushed his lips over hers. Electricity seemed to tingle all through her at that.

  More, more...

  “I think I should try to get us out of here, Wren. I should try that door again.”