Authors: Kaitlyn O'Connor
Teasing Tilly
TEASING TILLY Kaitlyn O’Connor 1
ALIEN SLAVERS I:
Teasing Tilly
By
Kaitlyn O’Connor
( c ) Copyright by Kaitlyn O’Connor February 2015
Cover art by Jenny Dixon
Amazon Edition
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
This Edition has been modified specifically to comply with Amazon editorial guidelines. This edition does contain some profanity/adult language and love/sex scenes. Due to the captive scenario, it does contain mild scenes of domination/bondage. This edition does NOT contain any graphic sexual scenes that might be construed as erotica or pornography. The original edition of this book, which includes all of the above, and has been rated as medium to hardcore BDSM can be purchased through the publisher, New Concepts Publishing under the title of Taking Tilly.
Chapter One
Tilly was way too tense as she stood in line to pay to get in to appreciate the ‘good vibrations’ rumbling through the floor beneath her feet and the air around her. It didn’t help her resolve that it took a good twenty minutes of shuffling and then stopping before she reached the register. She hadn’t been completely convinced her idea wasn’t insane when she’d come up with it. She was about ready to turn tail and run when she got to the counter.
“Fifteen.”
Outrage flickered through Tilly. She didn’t even
want
to go in!
“Fifteen,” the woman said louder when Tilly merely gaped at her as if she was mentally defective.
Tilly hesitated and then dug her wallet out of her pocket and handed the woman a twenty dollar bill. The woman handed her a five and looked over her shoulder at the next patron.
Dismissed, Tilly turned toward the vibrating interior door. The bouncer was waiting with an inked stamp. He stopped her before she could slip inside, demanded her hand and stamped her wrist.
Tilly stared at the black mark in dismay. It was a stylized depiction of two whips crossed. Beneath them were the letters BDSM Club.
Shoot! She was willing to bet that dog-gone mark wouldn’t wear off anytime soon! What the heck?
Oh this was just fudging glorious!
Sighing, shaking her head at herself, she pushed past the man and entered the darkened ‘cave’. She could see the dance floor the minute she got inside. There were a couple of shadowy clusters of people gyrating on the floor, but most of the patrons seemed to be clustered around the bar or sprawled in chairs—and on each other—in the darkened area near the walls.
Tilly’s stomach instantly knotted with fear and revulsion. She struggled for several moments with the beginnings of a panic attack.
Even considering the way Emily dressed these days it was hard to picture her sister feeling at home in this sort of place.
But then, maybe she really hadn’t been? Maybe her little sister had been playing a part—like she was tonight?
Except
she
wasn’t doing it to fit in with this crowd.
Emily was missing and the cops didn’t give a darn because she was ‘weird’ and liked to hang out at places like this.
She knew that son-of-a-gun had been suggesting Emily was a prostitute, but that was a dog-gone lie!
Emily had just … gotten a little confused and turned around on her way to adulthood.
God only knew how or why or when she’d decided that being tied up and beaten was exciting, but apparently that was a phase she was going through—her latest—Gothic hair, makeup, and clothing, plus kinky sex.
Six months earlier, she’d been a member of some kind of ‘Mother Earth’ cult.
Shaking her thoughts, Tilly tried to decide the best place to start asking around—because she hadn’t had a game plan worked out for after she got in!—and finally decided to start at the bar.
She needed a drink to steady her nerves anyway!
She had the wallet sized photo out when the bartender finally got around to waiting on her. “Have you seen her?” she asked flashing the picture.
“Do you want a drink?”
“Can you just look at the picture?”
He flicked a look at it and then took off down the bar to wait on someone else.
“Skunk,” Tilly muttered, frustrated, angry, and trying to ignore the stares of the people around the bar. She had their attention, though. Nerving herself, she started around the bar, flashing the picture and asking everyone if they’d seen her sister.
It was so blessed dark most of them never actually saw the picture, she was sure. They just told her they hadn’t seen Emily without really looking. A couple of the men took the picture and angled it toward the light and then shook their heads.
The bartender that had snubbed her before caught her attention when she was almost halfway around the bar, motioning for her to hand the picture to him. Reluctantly, suspicious, she finally handed the photo over. He looked at it cursorily and handed it back. “One drink minimum,” he said.
Tilly gaped at him. “What?”
“You have to buy at least one drink.”
After the highway robbery at the blessed door? Instead of arguing with the skunk, though, she ordered a screwdriver. He motioned her down the bar with a jerk of his head. Feeling her heart hammering with sudden hope, Tilly followed him to the end. He mixed her drink and then slid it across the bar. “Ten.”
What the heck? “You can’t be serious!”
“Do you want it or not?”
Tilly glared at the thieving skunk and dug a ten out of her wallet.
She didn’t add a freaking tip! If it wasn’t included in the outrageous price, he could just go doodle himself.
“She was in here.”
Tilly instantly forgot her anger. “When? Do you know who she left with? Did you see her leave?”
“She went with a hulking giant that called himself Mord. Or Mork—something like that.”
A coldness swept over Tilly. The word was just too close to the Latin word for death to suit her. Beyond that, it sounded more like a nickname or something made up than an actual name. “Who?”
“The alien slaver.”
Tilly gaped at him in shock at the bald-faced, absolutely ridiculous lie. The skunk didn’t even crack a smile!
She wanted to crack a bottle over his head. “Oh that was funny!” she said tightly.
Before she could stalk off, he pointed to a door she hadn’t noticed at the back of the bar. “Through that door, down the hall—second door on the right. Wait there. He’s supposed to be here tonight to pick up a group.”
Tilly blinked at him, stared at him, trying to figure out what the heck he was telling her. It was almost as if he wasn’t even speaking English—that’s how little sense what he’d said made to her. Was it some kind of sick joke? Was it a trick to get her into some kind of trouble? Or was there some truth to it?
Maybe the slaver part hadn’t been a joke?
Oh god! Emily had been taken by the sex slave trade!
Her first thought was to rush out and call the police and tell them everything she’d discovered, but she dismissed it fairly quickly.
They’d ignored her when she’d gone to them before. How likely was it that they were going to respond to a call from the bar?
Or that they’d find out anything even if they did?
What if this was the one and only chance she would ever have to find her sister? And she blew it by calling the cops and the slavers just packed up and went somewhere else?
She hadn’t planned to take this kind of risk, though. What if she put herself in harm’s way and got snatched and it didn’t even lead her to Emily?
She moved away from the bar, staring at the door he’d indicated, thinking about the puny little pocket knife she’d brought. And the lipstick size bottle of mace.
Her instincts were screaming at her to run and keep running.
Instead, she took a big gulp of the drink she was still holding and then took a step toward that door. Then she took another step. When she reached the door, she glanced back.
The bartender was staring at her intently, his expression totally blank and unreadable.
It wasn’t a joke, she was abruptly certain.
Her fingers were cold when she curled them around the handle and pulled the door open.
A single bulb in the ceiling lit the area and not very well. It was creepy with shadows and she felt a shiver race along her spine as soon as the door closed behind her.
She took another sip of her drink and a wave of dizziness hit her that nearly took her to her knees.
Holding the glass out, she stared at it suspiciously.
She wasn’t a drinker—might not have a single drink for a year or more and then have one or two—but the liquor shouldn’t have hit her like that after only a couple of sips!
Stupid!
But how could he have slipped anything in the glass? He was right out in the open!
The bar was surrounded by people who’d been drinking.
She couldn’t see what he was doing because he’d mixed the drink on a counter lower than the bar.
He could’ve done it, she realized. If he was brazen enough, he could’ve spiked her drink and nobody would have noticed.
She shook the thought. She hadn’t tasted anything funny. Surely she would have?
It was just nerves.
And a little alcohol.
She decided not to drink more, though.
Was she too woozy, now, to go on? Should she turn back?
Maybe she was scared enough she’d hyperventilated and that explained the dizziness?
She hesitated about halfway down the hall, listening to see if she heard anything suspicious or threatening. Deciding after a few moments that she didn’t and that she was actually feeling far less dizzy, she glanced around and then headed toward the door the bartender had indicated.
She felt like she’d stepped into a wind tunnel when she pushed the door open and stumbled through … and found herself standing in the darkness at the rear of the dang bar! Before she could turn around and head back inside the door slammed shut—and locked!
“Son-of-a-barnyard-dog!” she growled, feeling stupid and humiliated. “That jackass!”
Whirling on her heel once she’d accepted that the blasted door was locked and she wasn’t getting back inside that way, Tilly stalked away from the building, trying to decide whether to go back in when she got to the front or leave before she ended up in jail for trying to kill the skunk for playing the dirty trick on her.
She hadn’t gotten far when a blinding light came on.
“Good god! That’s bright enough. Stupid skunks ….”
She didn’t get the thought finished because when she looked around to locate the security light, she discovered she hadn’t been spotlighted by a security light at all. The light was above her.
And oddly enough the helicopter wasn’t stirring up any wind or deafening her with the motor and prop blades.
Because it wasn’t a helicopter.
She blacked out just about the time her vision cleared enough that she realized it definitely wasn’t a helicopter above her.
Chapter Two
Tilly woke to find herself inside … something. She was moaning and groaning.
And she wasn’t the only one.
Disoriented, terrified for some reason that she couldn’t pinpoint at that moment, she lay where she was, barely breathing, cracking her eyes just enough to peer around.
She couldn’t see a heck of a lot from where she was lying—which seemed to be a floor. But the floor of what? The surface she was lying on felt cold like metal, but she could see that she was in a sizeable area, not contained in a trunk or the back of a van.
Metal, but not a vehicle—unless it was like a semi trailer?
