Locked Mystery
Part Four

“Sorry, members only.” The woman was the same height as her, but her build was clearly larger. Not to be messed with. But, she had to get inside and quickly.

“I believe I am expected. Is there a guest list or something?”

“What do you think this place is? Some kind of music venue? You have the wrong place sweetie.”

She checked her watch. If she wasn’t through those doors and across the other side of the building in eight minutes she was going to be in a world of pain. She gambled.

“Look, there’s a guy here, I only know him as MYZ84 but he wants to see me.” She removed her coat as she was speaking. “He was very particular.”

The cold air made her shiver. She had never worn so little in public before. The women looked her up and down. Her face softened.

“Well I can see why sweetie.” This time the term of endearment seemed less like an insult. “Go on in before you catch a cold.”

-

As she stepped inside the nondescript door, away from the cold of the alleyway, she could hear distant music. Mostly baseline and the lower register of a woman singing. The dark corridor smelt of new carpet. The way her high heels dug into it confirmed as much.

There was a light coming from a hatch near the far door and as she approached she found herself face to face with a supermodel. Real people didn’t look that glamorous, and they certainly didn’t work as receptionists or cloakroom attendants.

“Hello. I have not seen you here before.” Even her voice was unreal. Smooth and somehow seductive despite the bland phrase. “Can I see your membership card.”

She repeated the same words she had used with the girl on the door. But having got this far she said it with confidence, and at the same time handed over her coat.

“Oh yes. I was told to expect you. I have your membership card here somewhere. I should have recognised you Miss Summers.”

The card she was handed had her photo on it. A recent picture from her communication with Daddy. Apart from that nothing matched. Siren Summers sounded more like a spy than a real person. It seemed appropriate considering her predicament. At least she knew where she was now.

Blue Lightning - Platinum Membership

“That’s a lovely dress Miss Summers,” said the supermodel with a disconcertingly confident smile. “I think you will fit right in Miss Summers. Allow me to summon one of our hosts to show you to your table.”

-

The host was wearing less than she was. He was just as glamorous as the receptionist in his own way. Tanned with perfect hair, teeth that seemed to shine in the dim light of the cub, and a physique that clearly took many hours to maintain. The waistcoat he wore did nothing to hide his toned chest and his smooth skin, and as she followed him to her table she appreciated the way his leather shorts flexed. It was easier to focus on that than consider what kind of establishment made their staff wear metal collars and cuffs.

This was the distinguishing feature that seemed to mark out the hosts. She could see girls and guys with matching collars serving at tables, mixing drinks at the bar, and some just kneeling beside the other occupied tables. They all wore different outfits, mostly revealing. There was a lot of leather and latex, some slinky dresses, some only in lingerie but they all wore collars with matching wrist and ankle cuffs.

As she arrived at the table she hoped that it was far enough across the room to register her as being in the correct zone. Daddy had set the geofence with precision. She wondered what would happen if her cage lost signal. Would it even work inside this building? She checked her watch again. The assigned minute had already begun. She let out a deep breath as she slid into the empty bay of her table. She had made it here. Just. She looked around the room and wondered where exactly ‘here’ was.

-

While she was waiting for the host to fetch her drink she thought she heard her cage beeping. But, checking on the device and her phone there was no sign of anything. Perhaps she was getting jumpy. Being instructed to go somewhere unfamiliar was just the latest in a long week of control.

The day after the coffee shop he had begun coaxing her with the pleasure settings. Firstly, as a reward for modelling her new lingerie, then enticing her to send more explicit photographs. It had been fun, but on reflection disconcerting how easily she could be swayed by a little bit of vibration and encouragement. The next morning she had been woken early by a mild sequence of shocks that only stopped once she was out of bed. Soon after, Daddy began explaining her new routine.

Every morning since had involved a forced exercise regime. A three-mile run carefully choreographed by geofencing and time requirements, followed by squats, crunches and a variety of other exercises that were counted by motion detection and punished when not performed with adequate enthusiasm or correct form.

Tonight’s drink was well earned. The large gin and tonic arrived surprisingly fast. Again, she thought she heard the now familiar tones of her cage. Was somebody else here wearing one?

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