Maeve, as it turned out, was a beautiful woman. She was naked as Merielle was, wearing a collar just like her own, blonde hair cascading down her neck and back thickly enough to almost cover it. Full breasted and half a head shorter than Merielle, the woman looked nevertheless looked a few years her senior – but that wasn’t a very reliable gauge. All it took was one look at Maeve for Merielle to realize that she was also a Selkie.
“You – you…” she whispered, trying to catch her breath and recover enough of her wits to speak.
“It’s ok,” Maeve repeated. “You’re safe for now. Come on – let’s get you cleaned up.” The blonde selkie reached down and pulled the fake shafts embedded in her. It was painful – but the pain was fleeting, and replaced almost immediately by serious relief. A second later she felt her hands on her arms and wrists. She began to twist a key on Merielle’s bracelets, and they came off her. It almost hurt more as they were removed – no longer pressing into her skin, she could abruptly feel how much agony they had squeezed out of her. Nevertheless, it was a tremendous relief to be able to move her arms again. Immediately, Merielle brought her hands up to the iron collar around her neck, seeking a way to get it off her.
“You can’t,” Maeve said sadly. She took hold of both of Merielle’s hands, covering them gently with her own. “It doesn’t come off. Only the master can take one off, and I’ve only seen him do it once. He passes them around to his hunters, that prowl around seeking his playthings. Stop – you’ll only hurt yourself. I’ve tried everything over the last four decades – nothing works.”
Merielle wanted to weep. She considering running – but run where? She was still in the collar, unable to use glamour. She had no idea where she was, was still in some building no doubt surrounded by men like those that had hurt her. The abused selkie was so exhausted and battered from her ordeal that she wasn’t even sure she could walk, much less run. But worst of all – she had no idea where Yuki had taken her skin, and she couldn’t – she couldn’t – leave without it. She couldn’t imagine life without it – already she had been out of it longer than she ever had before.
“I bet you want to get that mess off you,” Maeve said softly, helping her unsteadily to her feet. “Come on – I’ve got you. Let me take care of everything.” Maeve let Merielle lean on her as she walked her out of the room, down a long hallway. As it turned out, the way to the bathhouse took her past a dozen lounges, closed doors – but she still winced at the sounds she heard coming from there. Familiar, female sounds – what was this place?
The two women only had to stumble a short way down the corridor before opening a door and pushing through into a large room filled with heat and steam. The pool was enormous, big enough for her to swim in, and the two of them were all alone in the room with the hot water and the stone pool. Maeve helped her down into it, and she was utterly astounded just how good it felt to be submerged in hot water. In truth, after so long away even freezing water naked would have been welcome to the Selkie, but the hot water seemed to soothe the horrible treatment her body had suffered. A good deal of the aches and pains of her ordeal seemed to be leached away in just a few moments. She had never before enjoyed such a bath.
For the first time, Merielle had a moment of quiet, removed from the fear and the distraction. A moment to think. She was a prisoner now – and likely a slave. She had thought they would let her go when they were finished with her – but seeing Maeve had finally awakened an understanding in the young redhead. Another selkie – here for years. To Merielle, it finally occurred to her that they might have no intention of letting her go.
Softly, she began to sob in the pool. Maeve wiped them away from her eyes softly. “It’s ok, sweetheart. It’s ok. You’ll be ok.”
The bath ended all too soon. All of the sweat, the cum, the dirt was washed off of her into the steaming water. She could have stayed there all day, especially considering what was undoubtedly awaiting her. Maeve took Merielle’s arm and helped her from the water. Grabbing a fluffy white towel off one of the walls, she toweled her other girl before setting her down in a chair and beginning to comb the tangled out of Merielle’s red hair before leading her out of the room.
Merielle was brought out of the room next, and taken back down the hallway, past the room she had come out of her and further down the corridor, towards the smell of food. The next door opened onto a kitchen, and Maeve seated her down at a small table. “Eat,” she commanded, placing a bowl of steaming meat and vegetables in front of her. “It might be the last decent meal you get for a while.”
Merielle didn’t seem hungry, but she did as she was told – and was surprised to find that in spite of her despair and the aches and pains and overall exhaustion, the moment the food touched her tongue she realized that it had been more than a day since she had last eaten. She ate everything and finished just as Merielle came back in with some clothing. It was a toga, the likes of which Merielle had rarely seen herself – the fashion had come to the emerald isles long, long before she had been born, and left long before as well. It was sleeveless and lower cut in the bust that she would like after being paid so much male attention, but it was significantly better than sitting around naked. She put it on eagerly.
“I’m going to be taking care of you for the next few weeks,” Maeve said softly. “Show you around and the routine. Answer any of your questions – but I’m afraid we’ve already used up most of our time today. They were supposed to clean you up and feed you before I showed up, so we need to hit the floor. For tonight – just stay quiet, and try not to stare. Attracting attention is going to be bad for you.” She rose. “Follow me and try to stay out of the way. You should be protected tonight – but if you attract the wrong kind of attention, you might get yourself in trouble. Ok?”
Merielle didn’t understand, but she didn’t know what else to say. “Alright…” she whispered.
Maeve walked out the door, and Merielle followed. She followed down the hall, and through a door on the other side. Merielle followed…
Out into something like she had never seen before.
Eventually, Merielle would learn about the idea of a nightclub. The Mist of Avalon was the kind of club that people heard rumors about, but never saw themselves. Exclusive as they come, secret, rich, it took an ungodly amount of money to get in the door. And it was close to her idea of hell.
There was no white light inside the club whatsoever. Most of it was red, punctuated in places with pools of blue and purple and green, and plenty of black lights scattered everywhere, casting everything in strange, glowing shades. Even where the shadows on the balconies and the recesses were thickest, colors jumped out in disquieting luminescence. Smoke hung in a pall over the large room, a distance-warping haze that made it hard to tell how large the room was, besides “very.”
Merielle had entered on a kind of balcony that overlooked a lake. The center of the floor around the balcony was a smooth lake like a mirror, with an island n the center. Trees stretched upward from the island, and they cradled women in them – and the women weren’t humans. Even from a distance, Merielle could see that. Their skin was wrong, too textured, too green to belong to a selkie. Dryads. The women were dryads, and they were as naked as Maeve was.
Music pounded through the room, the bass beat so loud that she could feel it in her stomach more than she heard it with her ears. Lights flashed and swayed in horrible, confusing rhythms. Stairways led up to about a more than a dozen platforms that thrust out from the walls, where patrons could sit and overlook the pool or the dancers while gaining a measure of privacy for themselves.
The room was filled with people – people lounging on beds, on couches, sitting at tables, on benches. People standing, swaying, dancing. Sweaty bodies moved against one another, dressed in all sorts of clothing far too modern for her – the men anyway. Most of the people here were men. A few were dressed women, sitting, relaxing – but there weren’t many. And then there were the naked girls.
To one, each wore a collar – and they were all undressed completely. As far as Merielle could see through the smoke, there wasn’t a single girl in a collar who wasn’t naked, save for herself. Some women moved through the club, serving drinks in the nude. Others danced for men. Some hung in cages from the ceiling, dancing for watching eyes away from the balconies. One platform had a cross on it with a girl tied to it, being beaten with whips and riding crops. Another platform had a shiny brass pole in its center, and a pair of girls danced around it, in the middle of a circle of men and women sprawled over the couches and lounges. One yet another, a pair of other women – close enough for Merielle to see them as other selkies – were bound up with elaborate arrangements of ropes.
Everywhere that she looked, people were – doing things – to beautiful, naked women. Pairs, threesomes, foursomes, and moresomes were fully engaged in sex. Most of the women weren’t actively in pain – but few of them looked happy. Some were being hurt. Screams and cries occasionally found their way through the music, although it was hard to tell if they were of agony or ecstasy, joy or anger.
The lights constantly flashed, changing and shifting, and every beat of the music created a dozen new frozen montages of sybaritic abandon. A place of complete abandon, indulgence, and hedonism – and it was intriguing in all the same ways it was disgusting.
She followed Maeve through the crowd as she slinked over one of the tables, where one man was sitting alone, waiting. He smiled when she approached, pulling her down into his lap. She gave an unenthusiastic, fake smile but didn’t resist. Merielle looked away as he started kissing her, his hand reaching up to claw at her breasts. She looked around, desperate to look at anything else – and she saw something interesting. She saw Yuki.
The dark haired girl strode through the club, looking around possessively, her cold gaze sweeping the place. She was dressed – barely. She wore leather straps. Mostly. Tight, impossibly short leather shorts, connected to strips of leather that barely covered her breasts. None of that surprised Merielle. What did were the tails.
Thick, black tails swayed behind her as she walked, covering her ass completely as they cascaded down from just above it. They swished by just above the floor, as she sauntered down one of the balconies. Ears poked through her hair, twitching and swiveling slightly as the music pounded and other sounds filled the club. Merielle had never seen anything like her. Earlier, when she had first laid eyes on the other girl, she had known something was wrong about the other girl – that she was cloaked in a glamour similar to one of the fae, but different. Now she knew that she was right.
She kept her eyes on Yuki as she moved through the room. She was clearly one of the people in charge here – she moved between other people, conversing – and moving the girls around. She was organizing who was sleeping with whom. No one looked twice at her exotic features – clearly, none of the people here were surprised.
What was this place?
She wasn’t sure how long she had zoned out, swallowed up by the music, before Maeve came back up behind her. “Welcome to the Mists of Avalon,” she said, needing to yell into her ear to be heard. It sounded barely louder than a whisper.
She lifted a shaking hand and pointed down at a lower balcony, his finger tracing where Yuki walked. “Who is she?” she asked. When Maeve made a confused face, she raised her voice. “Who is she!” she said louder. “What is she!”
“She’s the master’s favorite!” Maeve yelled back. “He found her across the ocean somewhere, in a place called Japan! Not sure what she is, but he has her in charge around here most of the time! She’s been here even longer than any of the others – longer than me! From what I’ve heard, she’s been here for at least a century!”
“At least a…” Merielle gasped, looking back down. Selkies could live that long, of course – but she wasn’t a selkie, and she looked barely older than twenty. Whatever she was, she was long-lived. “Why is she doing this to us?!” Merielle asked, yelling into the other girl’s ear.
Maeve shook her head. “Don’t kid yourself! She’s just as much of a slave as the rest of us!”
“Where’s her collar!”
Maeve shrugged. “Don’t know. She’s not the talkative type.” She tilted her head as she watched the light show on the cages, frowning. “Come on – I have more places to be.” She turned and started walking away, and Merielle tried not to notice the cum slipping down her thigh.
Merielle followed Maeve as she visited a few more men, one at a time – letting them play with her. This was how her nights went, she learned – The lights on cages were instructions, telling each girl where to go. Who had bought her. She would move between her customers and let them… do… things to her. It was horrible, doubly so to learn that she was expected to do the same soon enough. She couldn’t imagine a life like this, but Maeve had told her that it was far better than the alternative – that if she was disobedient, there were far worse fates awaiting a girl at the Mists of Avalon.
After two hours, they were standing at the balcony, waiting for a new set of instructions, when Yuki arrived. “Maeve,” she said. Her voice was quiet and cold, emotionless and passionless, and yet it seemed to cut through the noise like a knife blade made of solid ice. “I’m collecting a few of the girls for a party on balcony five. Go – and take the fresh meat with you. It will be good for her to see.” Maeve’s eyes widened, and she started to stammer something, but Yuki cut her off. “You don’t need to protect her. I’ve already been very clear with them that they can’t have her – that she’s already been sold. You don’t need to worry about it. You only need to do what you’re told.” In that last sentence, her voice somehow got softer – quieter. It made Merielle shiver.
The exotic girl turned and began to walk away. From this close, Merielle could count all nine of her tails, could pick them out clearly as they swished independently like they had minds of their own. “They’re waiting for you. I suggest you don’t let them keep waiting. They have tempers.”
Maeve swallowed, and lead Merielle the other way. They climbed up one of the staircases. They were too narrow for people to pass without touching, and as she walked by a pair of men, she felt their hands on her ass, her breasts. She turned the other way as she passed the next man, but that was almost worse – she could feel his hard cock brush against her ass, grinding into it as he slowly, lustfully pushed pass her.
The men on balcony five turned out to be two dozen in number – and there were three other selkies already entertaining the men. Even while Merielle watched from the edge of the balcony in horror, the four selkies were pushed down onto lounged and lines formed around them, waiting to bury their cocks into the vulnerable girls. Two of them started being gangbanged. The other two seemed like they were being used as warmups, sucking the men. They usually moved over to one of the others as soon as they were an opening.
Maeve was one of the gangbang girls. She didn’t fight – not at first. Eventually, she started to struggle some as the pain got worse – Merielle could imagine what it must feel like. She shuddered to think about it. Her neck strained as she thrashed back and forth as they hurt her. She watched as one of the men pulled out of the selkie swallowing his cock and bolted over to where Maeve lay, held down by four men. He viciously pounced on her body and slammed into her. It took mere seconds before he came deep in her belly.
It kept on like that. As soon as an empty hole appeared in Maeve or the other blonde girl, it was soon filled. Merielle watched with horrified attention as one man after another thrust their rampant cocks into one of the girl’s mouths before heading over to fuck one of the others, slamming them mercilessly. After the first 15 or 20 men had used one of them, the men holding them down swapped out with someone else, letting them take their turn.
One after another the men appeared. When the procession of men grew tired of using Maeve on her back, she was forced over onto her belly. They made her kneel, men taking her mouth and her ass at once. Their struggles had ceased by now – the girls were too exhausted, too pained to fight. They didn’t even hold them down anymore. The men, one after another, exploded their cum in her mouth, ass, and pussy. A few of the men couldn’t hold their passions and came in the mouths of the girls they were using to get themselves ready.
Then, when Maeve and the other girl were limp and lying exhausted, the other two girls were pushed down and raped the way the others had been. Over and over – and over, until all four girls had collapsed exhausted down to the soiled lounges. Merielle couldn’t imagine how the club cleaned them, but she couldn’t look away from the abused girls. Their heads hung limply over the edges of the lounges, lines of cum hanging from their mouths. Their lips were swollen and stained with cum. The cum pooled in the bottom of their mouth’s and around their tongues. They were too worn and beaten to scream anymore. Their eyes were bloodshot and glassed over. Scratches were visible on their necks where the men’s nails held her head over their cocks.
The two girls who had initially been the focus of the gangrape were the worst off. Maeve lay on her stomach in the spent pools of cum. Her feet, her calves, her all, all bruised. One last man grabbed her leg and pulled it wide. She put up no resistance as he flopped her leg to the side, pushing into her asshole as cum seeped from the hole. Any blood from the vicious use had long since been erased by cum at this point.
One of the other girls was rolled over onto her back. She didn’t protest, and she didn’t speak or scream. The only sound that she made that Merielle could hear over the music was the horrible sounds of her coughing and gagging. Cum oozed from her swollen sex before the man began to rape her slowly. Merielle watched her breasts bounce, red and scratched and bruises. The man occasionally groped and slapped them as she was fucked. Her nipples were stained with blood, and her whole body rippled when she coughed.
One of the blowjob girls was worse for wear. Her nose was bloodied from one of the vicious face rapes – but it was her mouth that looked the worst off. It looked like she was frothing. Rivers of cum poured from her mouth – out the sides of her gaping mouth, down over her cheeks. Each time she coughed more cum spurted up from her belly, boiling over, bubbling, and then rolling down her cheeks in a disgusting viscous stream.
The gangbang was slowly winding down, but Merielle couldn’t look away, horrified. At least no one looked at her, not yet…
Yuki spoke from behind her. “It will be your turn soon enough.”