PixelJail

Story by Wolvun

 

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A dark skinned witch sat behind her desk, inspecting a stack of papers. Her amber eyes sweeping over the words as she processed what was presented to her. Making a note on her computer before moving onto the next one. A soft moan did not distract her. Nor when the desk shifting as her leg rest tried to get comfortable. She adjusted her legs as the muffled whimper softened, now that her heels were not digging into the back of the naked woman under the desk. Even if she was bound and gagged, no reason to be cruel.

The novelty of the Samhein Estate had long since worn off for Sasha. Screams now a background white noise. The growls of creatures no more disturbing than her coworkers from her job before she became a witch. Whatever chaos went on here, it wasn’t on her. 

Sasha wasn’t one for torture or indulgence. Her business wasn’t to extract screams from the victims of the mansion. No, Sasha’s business was ensuring that the Mansion affairs ran smoothly. That the right people screamed for the right reasons. That the guests pay the right amount, and have the right desires fulfilled. That any new toys, victims and artefacts were acquired on time. Sasha dealt with everything from invoices requesting certain slaves, to death threats, to new contacts. Whatever couldn’t be caught or stolen they needed to purchase. The easiest way to do that was with the VIP guests who needed to have their tastes examined and met before their wallets could be opened. 

With money, they could operate in the wide world without needing to use magic. That involved finding connections and delivery methods, greasing palms, illicit business fees, and even sending people with thinly veiled “messages”.

These sorts of things her employer had no interest in and may not have understood. As long as the playthings continued to come to the estate, Serena didn’t question what Sasha did. Serena had complete faith in Sasha to do her job.

And, with that, came some of the broadest autonomy of any witch at the Mansion. 

So Sasha ran it all. Building an entire empire from a single building that had lacked electricity. Establishing communication with global black marketeers and opening the Mansion up to the world of  twisted sadists who would pay any amount for their fill. 

She had no other staff. The rest of the Estate simply fell in line as more outsiders were drawn in. Effectively working with her to keep their little endeavors going. Whether it was slaves, supplies, or artifacts, Sasha’s network could find, collect and deliver. So long as the VIPs continued to come and spend their money there, she could fund her operation indefinitely. And the VIPs would never stop coming to one of the few places in the world that offered these services.

Sasha grimaced, pushing the emotions back down and tried to refocus. But for some reason, she can’t help but remember many years ago, when her work was much smaller but only somewhat less magical…

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“My, what a wonderful place this is Miss Serena,” an older man’s eyes glowed as only a child could “Indeed, a wonderland of the modern age.”

It didn’t matter how many times Mr. Borsen saw this place, he could never get enough. Even from the entryway, he couldn’t help but indulge in the hallways goodies just as the other guests did. Moving from each set of hips set into the wall, only ass and legs hanging free, their upper halves hidden in the walls. Their legs quivered as the guests took their time with them. Guests’ pants around their ankles as they taste their “appetisers” to the Mansion. Mr. Borsen moving from one overused pussy to another. Having just finished with a pale set of legs with tangle of red pubic hair and moving onto a blonde one. He just enjoyed the trapped flesh, not touching the huge variety of toys and punishment instruments lined on shelves above the legs. He would save his sadism for later. Squeezing the ample thighs as his older pecker stood up eagerly to enjoy. Not that it took a lot for him or any of the men to get off. Which was the purpose of this hallway. To get the body warmed up and ready for the rest of that evening’s enjoyment.

Mr. Borsen wobbled into the main room. Passing bound slaves displayed in torment. Hung upon the walls with wax candle fixed to the top of their breasts. Blindfolded with ring gags. All placed low enough for those with the urge to enjoy them if desired. White melted wax mixing with crusting semen and tears. The unlucky ones swung  higher up, acting as crying chandeliers, forced to watch from above and suffer the burning of the candles.

The feeling of the pre-party was thick in the air. Guests being brought in and settled by serving slaves. Hobbled as they walk with drinks and trays attached to their bodies. Clipped or pierced. Not that it stopped the bolder guests from enjoying their exposed nethers as well. Laughing cruelly as wine spilled over naked bodies. A bound slave unwilling to fight back as the clips pulled upon her tender nipples, a man enjoying her unprotected ass, while the wine bottle she had been offering him pressed far too deeply into her pussy. Only tears running down her face as the gag prevented any form of complaint. And that was only what was in the main hall. The sounds of the suffering, crying, sobbing, screaming and moaning ebbed from the hallways leading deeper into the manor; teasing those eager to enjoy the festivities once the welcoming ceremony had finished…

Mr Borsen wallowed in it all. Grabbing those made to serve. Fondling and feeling wherever he pleased. In this mire of misery, He wasn’t the only CEO there after all. The rich, powerful and depraved all gathered here in this den of sin. They may have known each other in some fashion outside of these old worn halls, but here they were free to truly enjoy the power they’ve so rightly earned.

Mr Borsen’s secretary of the time, a much younger Sasha, sighed in disdain. It had been her job to keep Mr. Borsen’s image clean for the sake of the company. Whether it had been a stripper with a claim or an unappealing news clip, she’d swoop it and deal with it. Still, this was by far the biggest thorn in her thigh. This would be his third visit to this place, and still wasn’t any less of a headache. Especially if he started bragging openly to his friends.

What did he matter if news got out that such an important man came to a tiny nowhere town on a rumor? Blowing off investors and employees on a chance to squeeze something he already had access to plenty of. Why would the public eye matter to him when he let her deal with it, no matter how complicated it was for her.

Sasha was no nebbish woman. It only seemed so with how hunched she walked. Clutching her tablet as she tried to follow after Mr. Borsen and Serena, keeping out of reach of both guest and slave whenever possible. Her conservative appearance only making her stick out more.

Trying to distract herself with the next week’s schedule, Sasha continued to remind herself.

“He needs me”

She was taking care of not only him, but his employees. Better this never come to surface. She continued following after Serena, darting and dodging away from contact with anyone here.

Mr. Borsen continued flitting about the place like the happiest boy at the ball. Squeezing and kissing and doing whatever he pleased, to Sasha’s disgust. He knew a number of the guests. Hell, some of these people she worked with on projects personally. Now they mingled amongst these slaves. Standing around, talking and drinking while slaves bound underneath tables were forced the fellate them. Often encouraged by a hand gripping their hair. A cruel game of who could cause theirs to pass out often ended with playful ribbing before moving on to another table.

This had all been very strange. For one, he could have kept this under wraps at his company office. Yet he had insisted she come, along with his wife.

Mrs. Borsen was a frail lady and a secret kept from the company. If his partners got news of an ailing wife, they would have suspected that he would become emotional as she deteriorated, and possibly act against him. So Sasha was also in charge of looking after both of the Borsens.

“Enjoying yourself?” Serena asked Mr. Borsen, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Of course Madam Serena. It is simply wonderful to come here yet again!” his smile reaching his ears.

“Of course, of course.” Serena smiled, an eye peering from under her orange hat. “And in regards to the deal?”

“Oh yes, I have considered that as well…” His expression becoming hard to read.

Sasha frowned, she didn’t trust this woman at all, who seemed to fancy herself as some kind of witch.

Serena had been the one who had contacted Mr Borsen originally, and offered him the chance to visit the Samhein Estate. She waited in his office as Mr. Borsen had returned from an investor meeting. This nearly naked woman, with a smirk and a tease, mentioning how dull this place was. Sasha had called security but that did not seem to bother the carefree intruder laying across his desk. Sitting up and tipping her head with a smirk. Withdrawing a business card from her orange scarf and leaving it on the table 

“For when you want to feel like yourself,” she whispered, stepping out the door.

By the time security had come, Mr Borsen was at his desk looking at the card. Neither security nor the cameras showed that anyone had gotten in or out of the building without an employee badge that day.

The witch appeared the next year as well. And the year after that. Mr. Borsen welcomed her in. Revelling in the experience and eagerly looking forward to this years visit as well. Serena smiled with a wink and suggested that perhaps he doesn’t come alone this year..

So Mr Borsen brought Sasha and his wife. While he mingled about in the main lobby, Mrs Borsen lay in a room upstairs. Away from most of the noise. Overseen by an airhead that claimed to be a nurse. Sasha didn’t believe this woman could safely apply a bandaid, yet held her tongue and kept emergency services on speed dial. Was she even aware of where her husband had taken her? It hardly mattered to him.

Sasha was getting too close to this. This was her job. What the two of them did was up to them. She was the one that kept their private life private. This was what she agreed to do. To look after…

Where did he go?

She had been so distracted by this place. Turning about, she only caught a glimpse of orange scarf slipping into a door. 

“You wouldn’t even miss her.” the witch’s voice spoke out of sight.

Sasha’s blood ran cold. What was that witch up to? Was this all a big set up? Sure, Mr. Borsen was unfaithful but…would he really…?

Speeding up her pace, trying to reach the door, she had to talk some sense to him. This had all gone way, way too far. If that woman was suggesting what she thought she was, it didn’t matter if no one knew that they came there. This place was dangerous. This witch was dangerous!

Panting, Sasha stepped into the room.

“Sir, I believe that your wife would be-“

“Not now Sasha,” Mr. Borsen brushed her off. “So you could actually do it, Madam Serena?”

The witch nods and smiles, her orange scarf draped across the man’s shoulder. “It couldn’t be simpler.”

“Sir. I must advise you against anything this woman says.” Sasha points. “Do not trust her. Look at this place. Do you think anyone normal could get away with this under the eyes of the law?”

“Yes, do you think anyone ‘normal’ could do this?” Serena purrs. “If you don’t believe me, believe your own eyes.”

Sasha fumes. Gripping her tablet to her chest. “You can’t do this Sir! People will find out about your wife if she disappears.”

This seems to rattle the older man, fumbling with his hands as he does when forced to make an actual decision on his own. Serena has no quip for this. A single eye peering from under that wide brim. A smirk spread across her lips.

“The deal is there. Your choice whether you take it.” Serena whispers, the scarf falling from his shoulder and swaying behind her once more.

Sasha scoffs. “Oh enough of this! I’m calling the police and we’re getting out of here Sir. Before this all goes too far-”

“Yes! Do it!” Mr. Borsen interjected, gesturing to Serena.

“-We can get your wife and-…what?” Sasha turned but the witch stood between her and her boss. Wearing a smile under the hat that couldn’t be wider. 

“I’m sorry Sasha…” The apology came from his lips, but not his heart.

Sorry? Sasha didn’t understand. But she felt…woozy. Did this woman prick her with something? Had she been drugged? Was she really a witch?

“N..No..pl..please no…”

“A deal’s a deal. Business as usual. If you let it”

“Is this really necessary?” Mr Borsen asked Serena.

It sounded to Sasha like her boss was several feet away though water, garbled and disjointed.

“Oh, they all have different reactions. I must say, this is a new one.” Serena said with a spark of curiosity, leaning towards Sasha with impish interest

The tablet clattered from Sasha’s numb fingers as she staggered. The heavy nothingness spreading through her body quickly. Instincts kicking in, but nothing to be done.

She was crawling now, even as her body sags to the side. Flopping over as her heavy breathing starts to soften.

Serena turned to Mr. Borsen “Run along now. She’ll be taken care of.”

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