Stuck In The Past
The one thing about being a Super Heroine, with limited talents, is that you could end up in a whole heap of trouble. The snag with being a wild young thing (I was back then), is that sometimes you actually enjoy being captured almost as much as the chase. Let me explain...
River City, 1927
Something strange was happening around town. And no, I don’t mean the gin being legal, because in those days, there was no chance of that. However, it was known by some that there were some speakeasy’s (clubs, darlings), that were the cats whiskers, and a few you only went in, if desperate, and even then...? But fine, some girls weren’t so fussy!
There was one bar in an area of town that a ‘nice lady’ like me would only go into when on duty, but that supposedly had some of the best gin for miles around. Thing was, something strange was happening to the ‘not so nice ladies’ who went drinking there. Basic thing seemed to be, they’d go there for ‘a cup of tea’ on a Friday afternoon after work, and then no one would see anything of them until Monday morning, with no memories of what happened over the weekend. I know what you’re thinking (and to be fair, I did)—too much gin on a Friday evening, sleep the weekend away in a hangover, and all that, right?
But then I noticed it, as it seemed a few of the girls in our office had been down there for a drink (or six), and as Friday afternoon at the office drew to a close, their eyes would glaze over, some of them would suggest a drink at ‘The Waxworks’ and they would go off in a group, not to be seen until Monday morning, when they’d come in, not having a clue what they’d done at the weekend, most strange. So fine, after 3 weeks of this happening, my curiosity got the better of me, and I was determined to do my duty, follow them, and see what was going on. Until...
“Billie, fancy coming for a, err, cup of tea after work tonight? We’ve found a nice tea room to visit on the outskirts of town, and thought you might be interested?”
“Sure, why not?” I casually replied, trying not to make it sound like they were doing me a great favour, with an official invite to enter, but anyway...
(I wasn’t dating Callum at this time, by the by, so no one was going to miss me if I was gone all weekend, just saying...)
One of the others tapped on the door of the tea room, said something about the chocolate cookies being delightful, and we were all let in. It was explained to me that it was a ‘members only’ club, so I would have to fill out a few papers, which in truth, was the norm back then, for this sort of place. So while the other 3 went off to order us all some ‘tea’, I went off with the guy who’d let us in, to fill out the necessary paperwork.
The room looked normal when I entered, and he offered me a seat. I went to sit down, felt a sudden sharp pain in my backside, and then...nothing!
Eventually I woke up a bit, and the chill of the room suggested to me that I wasnt wearing much clothing, if any. I was right, and it was the latter, only thing I was wearing was my birthday suit... or naked, to you, darlings. A quick twitch suggested that at least my arms were tied tightly. I cracked open an eye, and...
“Ah, Miss Nicholson, good evening, a pleasure to meet you, your colleagues told me so much about you that I had to meet you.”
“And you are?”
“The owner of this little club, my dear, and for now, thats really all you need to know. A smoke, a drink?”
That sounds promising at least, doesn’t sound like he knows I’m a Super, of sorts, at least. Not that I now had any of my special cigarettes on me, but anyway...
“Both would be nice.” I cheekily replied, “Though my hands are a little tied up for a smoke at present.”
He laughed, in the way I dont like a man to laugh, when I’m tied up, and naked.
“Not a problem my dear, we just have to finish the introduction process, and then I can let you free.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Oh, we just have to get you informed of the club rules, and I’m sure you will be more than happy to comply with them, thats all.”
“Book to read, form to sign?” I cheekily asked.
“Not quite, or we wouldnt have you dressed in the, err, office costume if it was as simple as that.” he replied smiling.
Yes, I had guessed that might be the case, but was no harm in hoping.
He put a band around my forehead, a mask over my head, I felt a prick in my arm, and all went blank again.
The mask came off, my eyes got used to the light, and I opened my mouth to say something cheeky, and...
“Waxwork prototype 5 now online, ready to complete processing.” I politely stated. What the hell?
“Excellent news. In that case, its time to meet up with your colleagues for a drink of tea, my dear.” he said, “Follow me.”
I did just that. As you might have worked out, none of my colleagues greeted me, due to them all being waxwork dolls! To give him his due, they did all have a large glass of gin in front of them, plus one, clearly prepared for me, once I’d been, err prepared.
I lay down on the bed as instructed, not that I had any say in the matter. He shut the lid, it filled up with some warm material, and my brain, and body shut down. Next thing I was aware of, was being sat on a stool, in front of said glass of gin, dressed like my colleagues in a classy, but pretty revealing dress. Then, my brain came to life (of sorts), my body started to move, and I took a sip of my gin (very nice, I must say), seemingly all under his control.
“Now ladies, you all know your duties for the weekend, you’ve all been instructed accordingly.”
We all nodded in unison.
“On Sunday evening, you will all return here as normal, for deprogramming, and to finish your weekend of celebrations. All your customers know the rules, and should let you go, but if they do not release you, insert the code you already know into the stone on your necklace, and someone will collect you. So, if you’re ready to get started?”
Again we all nodded. Basically, for the weekend, we all acted as companions for some wealthy, mature River City gentlemen. But it was like being a robot, or something; if he suggested I wanted to do something, I wanted to do it, instantly. I was ‘aware’ enough to make good conversation, though whether that was me, or my ‘programming’, no idea. As for the sex, oh god, the sex! Whether he was just a good lover, or whether I’d been programmed to be one, no idea, but I had so many orgasms that weekend, well... (I found out later that we’d been fitted with some weird birth control device at the time, just in case)
Then on Sunday afternoon, he just said to me, “Sadly my dear, its time for you to go.", he pressed some button on a control, and I bathed, dressed, and headed back to the club, as instructed. Once back, the man did something to me, provided me with a comfortable bed, and...
...I woke up in my own little bed. I didn’t remember any details of the weekend, other than that it had been fun, and duly headed back to work. The next Friday afternoon, I was the one to suggest we go for a drink together, and... you can guess the rest!
This all went on for a few months in truth, then one week, none of us suggested going for a drink, we all went home for the weekend, and that was that. The following weekend, when my head had cleared a bit, and we still didnt go for a drink together, I decided to go and check the club out again. Nothing, gone, without trace!
So, I can hear you saying, how can I tell you about all this now? No, he never got caught, if that’s what you’re thinking, or not that I ever heard about, anyway. But over the next couple of years, a few stories got around, of a similar thing happening, so I mentioned it to Callum, that there had once been rumours of such a thing in River City, and I said to him it couldn’t possibly be true, could it. He never said a word.
Anyway, one time, on that recent trip I had into the modern times, there were a group of us discussing our cases from the past, and I mentioned this one, for amusement. Well, Eva slipped into my mind, loosened a few strings seemingly while I was talking about it, and then all of a sudden, I squealed, loudly.
“Are... are you trying to put ideas in my mind?!?” I asked, glaring at her.
“Nothing of the sort, dear Billie, I was just doing a little exploration, found this part of your mind that had been blocked off, and lo and behold...”
I blushed, brightly, my hidden memories springing to life once more.
“Was this all, err, before I married Callum?” I asked coyly.
“Yes, well before, our little sexy escort girl.” she replied, laughing.
The others looked at her, so she explained it all, while I sat there, blushing like a beetroot.
So fine, when I got back to ‘my own time’, I mentioned it to Callum, and told him the whole story. Seems a couple of his relatives had used these ‘services’ when they were available, but he had no idea who they had shared weekends with. Did I, didnt I...?
But one weekend, just before we got married, Callum ‘borrowed’ some strange device from Gene (one of Mr Grimalde’s special little gadgets, or so I was told), put it on my head, and POOF I was his ‘sexy companion’ for the weekend, not his fiancee! And yes, it was fun, and yes, that time, I was allowed to remember it!
As for what we got up to, after marriage, when he, and Rotwang started invented little toys as well... wink I’ll just leave that up to your imagination, darlings!