Chapter 2: 2005 Jane’s House

2005

“So I want you to capture Helle and bring her here for me,” Jane asked of Tomas after relaying her story.

Jane’s request took Tomas by surprise. He’d expected an argument or even outright refusal if he ever hinted at expanding the Neighborhood. She was furious when he captured Tia. But here she was, asking him to capture Helle, a woman Jane despised.

He, of course, had different motivations. The prospect of adding another woman to their ranks excited him, and he hid his enthusiasm poorly as he considered the possibilities. A smirk played on his lips as he imagined the new dynamics such an addition would bring. The concept intoxicated him. He relished a new subject for his realm. While he was never tired of his free-use of Jane and Tia, he also fantasized about building a large harem.

“I’ll look into it,” he assured Jane, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

That evening, Tomas presented himself at the brothel as Jane instructed. He rang the doorbell, and moments later, Helle answered with a questioning look. Tomas gave the password, “I’m here for Helle’s party.”

She greeted him warmly, her tone almost maternal as she invited him inside. “Come on in, darlin’” The Madam was stunning. Her curves showcased in a form-fitting cocktail dress. The low-cut neckline revealed ample cleavage and a hint of lacy lingerie peeking out seductively. Her tight dress emphasized her slender thighs and shapely legs. Her had long, silvery blonde hair that framed her face and emphasized her Swedish heritage. At forty-five years old, she exuded a maturity that was distinctly enticing amidst the younger women surrounding her. She was the definition of MILF.

She exuded sex, but as the madam, she was not on the menu. She was the forbidden fruit, which made Tomas want her even more. His cock immediately sprung to attention at the thought that he might soon pick this fruit.

Helle escorted Tomas into the lobby, where a dozen women awaited his inspection. They ranged in age from eighteen to fifty but mostly on the younger side. Their bodies varied to cater to different tastes. Each introduced herself seductively, their eyes filled with anticipation as they vied for his attention.

He appraised them coolly, his experienced gaze noting their figures and the way they carried themselves. Several caught his eye, their beauty and sophistication impressive. His eyes feasted on the nubile ladies up for rent, but his mind focused on Helle. She was the prize he intended to claim.

Tomas mingled amongst the prostitutes to give the illusion that he was making a selection so that he could get Helle into the private negotiation room. He made idle conversation and allowed his eyes to roam freely over their bodies. He feigned interest, all the while anticipating the moment he’d confront Helle alone.

His opportunity arrived when he requested a specific service and indicated a preference for the young redhead. Helle showed him to her office making small talk along the way. “How did you learn about us, honey?”

She closed the door behind them with a flirtatious smile. Tomas heard the click of the lock. “My friend Jane encouraged me to come. You might know her, she said she used to work here”

When he mentioned Jane’s name, Helle’s expression shifted, a mixture of wariness and curiosity crossing her face. She seemed unsure how to react. Seizing his chance, Tomas reached out and touched Helle’s hand, still resting on the doorknob. Her eyes widened in shock as her body shrank before his very eyes, the transformation rapid and unexpected.

He plucked the diminutive Madam from the floor, her confused protests muffled as he tucked her into his jacket pocket. With a smug smile, Tomas made his escape through the back door, leaving behind any witnesses. As he walked briskly towards home, his mind raced, considering how long it would take for Helle’s absence to be noticed. He doubted anyone would miss her, at least not sincerely, but his focus remained on the prize within his pocket.

Back in the Neighborhood, Jane paced back and forth eagerly, her eyes constantly checking the basement door for Tomas’s return. She’d prepared for this moment, hanging the very shackles that Tomas used to bind her years earlier. An assortment of toys lay spread before her, from strap-ons to various implements of pleasure and pain, each carefully chosen to humiliate and punish Helle.

Finally, Tomas stepped into the Neighborhood, his full-sized presence towering over the tiny world within. He carefully cupped Helle in his hands, shrunken, bewildered, and furious. She had been a formidable woman in her domain, but now, held in Tomas’s grasp like a mere trinket, her power was meaningless.

As Tomas lowered her into the Neighborhood, he slowly uncurled his fingers, placing Helle in the center of the miniature world. She stumbled as her feet met the ground, disoriented, but immediately she turned her sharp gaze upward, her mind racing to make sense of what had just happened.

Then she saw her.

Jane.

Jane exuded an air of authority and control that sent a chill through Helle’s spine. She was dressed in an outfit almost identical to what Helle wore that fateful day at the brothel, a dominatrix revealing black corset, crotchless leggies, and thigh-high boots. But it wasn’t just the outfit that made Helle’s stomach tighten, it was the deliberate way Jane held a leather riding crop, slapping it rhythmically against her palm.

She planned this.

Helle’s breath quickened. She had been in power for so long, always the one giving orders, the one dictating the rules. Now, she was at the mercy of a woman she had barely thought about for years, yet whose anger clearly burned bright.

Jane took a slow, measured step toward her. “Well, well,” she said, her voice cool and deliberate. “I’m excited to see you.”

Helle’s instincts took over. She turned and bolted.

She ran even though she knew there was nowhere to go. Her quick mind had already assessed the boundaries. The Neighborhood was enclosed in some kind of large container that in turn was locked in this basement. And her captor was still watching over at full size. Still, instinct drove her to run.

Her boots pounded against the ground as she weaved through the dollhouse-sized pathways, darting between tiny buildings and through narrow alleyways. She didn’t dare look back, but she could hear Jane behind her. Walking. Not running. Not chasing. Just following.

Jane’s calm, deliberate steps were somehow worse than if she had sprinted. Helle knew that Jane had no need to hurry—there was no escape.

Her breath grew ragged. Her legs ached. But she kept going, hoping for something—a crack, a hole, some flaw in the enclosure that she could slip through.

There was nothing. Helle’s strides grew shorter. Slower. She could feel her strength fading along with all hope. Her breaths came in heavy, desperate gasps.

Finally, her mind and body gave up. She stumbled to her knees, unable to keep running. Footsteps approached from behind.

Jane crouched beside her, resting her elbow on her knee, her expression almost ... amused. She twirled the leather crop lazily in her fingers.

“Are you finished?” Jane asked, her tone light, almost conversational.

Helle glared up at her, panting. “Go to hell.”

Jane chuckled. “Oh, Helle. You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.”

Helle had no fight left in her. She stayed on her knees, trying to catch her breath as Jane reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a pair of tiny, silver handcuffs.

The sight of them made Helle’s stomach drop.

She had cuffed so many women before. Bound them, restrained them, kept them in line at the brothel. It was just a part of business. She had never once imagined she’d be on the other side of it.

Jane didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Helle’s wrists, forcing them behind her back, clicking the cuffs into place with practiced ease. The cold metal bit against Helle’s skin.

“There,” Jane said, tightening them just enough to make Helle wince. “Much better.”

Helle wanted to fight, to resist, to do something. But she had nothing. She was exhausted, shrunken, helpless.

Jane stood up and tugged on the chain between the cuffs, forcing Helle to her feet. “Come on,” she said. “I have a room ready for you.”

Helle clenched her jaw but said nothing as Jane led her through the streets of the Neighborhood, dragging her toward whatever fate awaited her.

Tomas stood in the distance, watching silently. This was a side of Jane that he had not seen before. Seeing her take control of Helle turned him on. He couldn’t wait to get a chance with Helle. But he knew Jane needed to work through her fury at her first. His time would come. Jane arrived in the room she had prepared with Helle in tow. Jane’s grip tightened and the walls of the enclosure loomed around her, Helle understood one thing with absolute certainty: She was no longer in control.

Jane’s eyes glinted with a dangerous gleam as she manhandled Helle, her captive squirming helplessly against the restraints. With a smirk, Jane stripped the Madam of her clothes, reveling in the power shift between them. She hung Helle’s nude form from the wall by her bound wrists, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. Despite her distaste for Helle, Jane had to admit to herself that Helle was incredibly attractive. She clearly kept her body tone and fit. Shackled naked against the wall with her legs spread apart, Helle’s large globes defied the gravity of time. They jostled and jiggled arousingly as she struggled against her bonds.

From the assortment of toys lay spread before her Jane selected a large strap-on, its rubbery length intimidating as she secured it around her hips. Its girth reminded her of the huge dildo used on Lina that night. She turned towards Helle, a sadistic smile playing on her lips.

“Remember that last night with the old man?” she sneered, her voice thick with contempt as she buckled the harness in place. “The one where you allowed Lina to be ripped to shreds? Well, it’s your turn to experience the other side.”

Jane approached Helle, her steps purposeful and deliberate. She thrust the fake cock into Helle’s mouth, forcing the Madam mouth to stretch around its width.

Tomas and Tia looked on, fascinated. The display excited him; his own erection strained against his pants as he watched Jane exact her revenge. He was getting hot and needed an outlet. He reached reached under Tia’s shirt invoking his free-use dominion over her as she continued to watch the show in astonishment.

With a groan, Tomas pulled down his zipper, freeing his hardening member and pushed Tia to her knees before him. She took him into her mouth obediently, her tongue working wonders as he focused on Jane’s cruel treatment of Helle.

Jane released Helle from the wall, her eyes glittering with a mix of excitement and hatred as she dragged the Madam towards her. She roughly turned Helle onto her knees and forced her face between her thighs.

“Eat me,” she demanded, her voice thick with anticipation as she spread her legs wide.

Helle reluctantly complied, her tongue working hesitantly against Jane’ s sensitive folds. Jane grasped the back of Helle’ s head, applying pressure as she ground her sex into the woman’ s face, moaning loudly.

“Lick it,” she ordered roughly, the taste of her own arousal egging her on as she bucked against Helle’s mouth.

Long minutes passed as Jane used the Madam for her pleasure, her hips gyrating in a slow, deliberate motion that smeared her juices all over Helle’s face. The older woman’s tongue worked tirelessly. Helle was clearly well practiced. Her expert oral techniques brought Jane closer and closer to the edge.

A deep moan escaped Jane as she felt herself teetering on the precipice. Her walls trembled as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, each climax more intense than the last. She cried out, her body convulsing in ecstasy as she came hard, her juices coating Helle’s face.

After catching her breath, Jane invited Tomas and Tia closer, a sadistic smile playing on her lips. She wanted Helle to experience the very humiliation she’ d inflicted on so many others, and an idea formed as she gazed upon the nude Madam.

“Come mount her,” she said, motioning towards Helle.

Without protest, Tomas squatted above the older woman’s face. His ass pressed into her mouth as he ground his hips in a slow, deliberate motion. Jane could tell he enjoyed the sensation, and his eyes glinted with excitement as he relished the role reversal.

Meanwhile, Tia continued to service him orally, her tongue working fervently as she stroked his thighs. Jane watched intently as Tomas’ s arousal built, enjoying the power she held over them both.

Using the riding crop in her hand, Jane punished Helle’ s pussy, striking it repeatedly as the Madam screamed and writhed beneath him. She showed no mercy, her own excitement building as her former Madam’s cries filled the room.

Tomas roared in ecstasy as he found his release, his seed flooding Tia’ s mouth. It warmed her as it coated her throat then tingled through her whole body with its magical healing powers. Jane smiled in satisfaction; the tables had turned on Helle, and the Madam would now experience the very degradation she’ d inflicted on so many others.

At night, Helle was abandoned to herself, although still bound hands and feet. The room was dim, lit only by the light shining through a small window, casting long shadows against the walls. Helle lay where Jane had left her, bound, sore, and utterly exhausted. The fire of defiance had dimmed in her eyes, replaced by something quieter. Something heavier.

Her wrists ached from the restraints. Every movement sent a dull throb through her body, a reminder of Jane’s anger, of the punishment she had taken with minimal protest.

A soft knock at the door.

Helle turned her head slightly as the door creaked open, revealing a familiar figure.

Tia.

Tia stepped inside quietly, closing the door behind her. She carried a small basin of water and a cloth, her expression gentle. Unlike Jane, there was no malice in her eyes, only warmth. She knelt beside Helle without a word, dipping the cloth into the water and wringing it out before pressing it against one of the bruises forming along Helle’s shoulder.

Helle hissed slightly but didn’t pull away.

“You don’t have to do this,” Helle muttered, her voice rough.

Tia smiled faintly. “I know.” She dabbed at another wound, her movements careful, almost reverent. “But I want to.”

For a while, there was only silence between them, broken only by the sound of water dripping back into the basin.

Then Tia spoke, her voice soft but steady. “Jane was ... intense.”

Helle let out a dry, humorless laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

“She’s been carrying this for a long time,” Tia continued, dipping the cloth again. “I don’t think she ever really let go of what happened at the brothel.”

Helle’s jaw clenched. “And you think I have?”

Tia paused, watching her. “Have you?”

Helle swallowed hard, staring at the ceiling. “At first I was making a real difference,” she said finally, though the words tasted bitter. “Women are going to whore. As they say, it’s the oldest profession. You’re not going to stop that. But I thought I could do better. For me it wasn’t about keeping men happy. It was about keeping the girls alive. Keeping them ... as safe as possible in a world that doesn’t give a damn about them.” Her voice grew quieter. “I tried. But I was weak.”

Tia set the cloth down, folding her hands in her lap. “What do you mean?”

Helle exhaled slowly. “I became addicted to the money. I betrayed me girls. Some of them got hurt. Some got broken ... Lina...” She blinked up at the ceiling, her expression unreadable. “I tell myself I did better than most. That my girls were better off than they would’ve been somewhere else. But that doesn’t change the fact that I failed them sometimes.”

Tia studied her carefully. “You really cared about them.”

Helle let out a small, humorless laugh. “I did. Not that it mattered in the end.”

Tia was silent for a moment before she spoke again, her voice full of quiet understanding. “It did matter.”

Helle turned her head slightly, meeting Tia’s gaze. There was no judgment there. No accusation. Just ... kindness.

It was almost unbearable.

Helle let out a shaky breath. “I deserve this and worse.”

Tia frowned. “You don’t—”

“It’s no worse than what happened to some of my girls.” Helle’s voice was firm. “Jane’s right to hate me. She’s right to make me pay for what I did.”

Tia reached out, resting a gentle hand on Helle’s arm. “I don’t think Jane really hates you. Not deep down.”

Helle scoffed. “You didn’t see her earlier.”

“I did.” Tia’s expression was thoughtful. “And I saw a woman who’s been holding onto pain for a long time. But pain doesn’t last forever. And neither does anger.”

Helle looked away. Tears were creeping down her cheeks. “Doesn’t mean I don’t deserve it.” Tia sighed. “I won’t argue with you about what you think you deserve.” She squeezed Helle’s arm gently. “But I will talk to Jane.”

“No.” Helle turned back to her, her eyes suddenly sharp. “Don’t.”

Tia hesitated. “Helle...”

“I mean it.” Helle’s voice was quieter now, but no less firm. “This is something Jane needs to do. Something I need to take.” She let out a slow breath. “Maybe after she gets her revenge, she can move on. Maybe my pain will help her find peace.”

Tia studied her for a long moment. Tia smiled faintly, dipping the cloth back into the water. “Get some rest, Helle. You’re not as alone as you think.”

Jane sat alone in her quarters, idly running a cloth over the leather crop she had used on Helle earlier. The room was dim, lit only by a single overhead light that cast long, sharp shadows. The steady, repetitive motion of her hand across the leather was soothing, methodical. It was something to keep her from thinking too much.

But she was thinking.

Even after punishing Helle, even after watching her shrink under Jane’s wrath, that gnawing anger inside of her hadn’t settled the way she thought it would. The satisfaction had been momentary, fleeting. She should have felt victorious, avenged. Instead, there was a hollowness she hadn’t expected.

A soft knock on the door.

Jane’s jaw tightened. “What?”

The door creaked open, and Tia stepped inside. She was quiet, careful, as if she knew she was stepping into dangerous territory.

Jane didn’t look at her. “If you’re here to lecture me, don’t waste your breath.”

Tia shut the door behind her. “I’m not here to lecture.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “I just want to talk.”

Jane let out a scoff. “Talk about what?”

Tia hesitated before answering. “Helle.”

Jane’s grip on the crop tightened, but she forced herself to remain still. “What about her?”

Tia took a slow breath. “I spoke with her earlier.”

Jane finally looked up at that, her expression dark. “You what?”

“She’s not who you think she is, Jane.”

Jane let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really? She’s not the woman who ran that goddamn brothel? She’s not the one who stood by and let those men use us like...” She cut herself off, exhaling sharply. “Don’t try to tell me she’s not who I think she is.”

Tia didn’t flinch. “I’m not saying she’s innocent.”

Jane narrowed her eyes.

“I’m saying it’s not as simple as you think.”

Jane set the crop down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “She profited off us, Tia. Off me. Off all the girls who worked for her. She was the one keeping the doors open, making the rules, deciding what we had to do to keep our beds and our safety. She’s just as bad as the men who came through there.”

Tia was quiet for a long moment before she spoke again. “Do you become a working girl because of her?”

Jane shook her head silently.

“Would you have found another house if she weren’t there?”

A single nod.

“Would it that have been better or worse? With someone who didn’t care at all?”

Jane clenched her jaw. “You’re saying she cared?”

“Yes.”

Jane shook her head, laughing again, but there was no humor in it. “That’s rich.”

Tia said gently. “You said you were there for over a year before that last night. Did she care?” Jane scowled. “She had a funny way of showing it.”

“I’m not saying she didn’t make mistakes,” Tia continued. “I think she knows it. But she also tried. And she failed sometimes. And she feels the weight of that.”

Jane was silent, staring at the floor.

Tia’s voice softened. “Tell me something, Jane. In the time you were there, was Helle ever on your side and protected you?”

Jane’s fingers dug into her knees.

Images flickered through her mind—memories she hadn’t let herself acknowledge in years. Helle standing in the doorway, blocking a drunk, angry client from coming back into Jane’s room. Helle telling the girls to stick together, to never let anyone isolate them. Helle pulling Jane aside after a particularly rough night, handing her a warm meal and telling her to rest. Jane exhaled sharply, shaking her head as if to rid herself of the thoughts. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“Maybe not,” Tia admitted. “But maybe it means things aren’t as black and white as you thought.”

Jane didn’t answer.

Tia sighed, then quietly left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Jane sat there for a long time, gripping the leather crop in her hands, staring at nothing. She wasn’t convinced.