Quicky Sanders: The Mind's Eye

[Viridian]

Quicky Sanders: The Mind’s Eye
By Viridian

It was another quiet day at the office. Troy sat impatiently at his desk, browsing sites and waiting for the phone to ring. Quiet days were never good for a newspaper. They needed news. News was what he wanted to hear when Victoria entered. He gave her a customary glance. She was looking fine as always: glistening golden hair, professionally dressed in her business jacket, blouse and skirt. She kept her looks – and her manner – professional, and kept her reputation clean. Troy wondered if she might have progressed further if she was a bit more open and daring.

Victoria went into his cubicle and handed him his coffee. “I’ve got news.”

Troy’s ears perked up. “Do tell. I’ve been staring at cats all day.”

“You’ll be staring at more than that.” Victoria sipped from her paper cup. “We’ve got a new reporter on board.”

“A new one? We’re barely breaking even in the budget. How can we afford to hire another one?” Troy tapped his pen anxiously. “We’ve already laid off an editor. I’m hanging on by the skin of my teeth. Probably just another rookie.”

“I’ve heard otherwise. She’s from interstate. Got her name – Quyen Sanders. Apparently she goes by the nickname Quicky.”

“Because I’m always the first to find a good story.”

Victoria and Troy turned to see their new colleague. Their jaws dropped. Victoria was stunned by her grey eyes and long, silky dark hair, curled seductively around her shoulders. Her skin was exceptionally smooth, with her facial features accentuating her mixed Asian and European background. Troy, on the other hand, was immediately drawn in by Quyen’s other physical assets – her well-endowed buxom filling out her bold red sweater nicely, and her shapely hips and dark miniskirt that made Victoria look like a prude.

“Quyen Sanders, as you know,” she said assertively, shaking hands with the two reporters. “You must be Troy and Victoria.”

They had been caught off guard by her brazen manner. Victoria got over her initial shock and realised that her position may be at risk from this newcomer. “If you want to make it here,” she said, clearing her voice, “you need to bring the goods.”

“Oh, I’ve got those,” Quyen replied. “No, get your head out of the gutter. It’s a scoop. Here.” She opened her folder. “You know the recent corporate crime spree? Missing millions from big companies?”

“That’s big news,” Troy said, looking through his own notes. “Department store managers, the CEO of the oil company, even a senator. They’ve all been caught on tape but swear their innocence.”

“I’ve interviewed all of them. They all say they remember nothing. It’s too odd.” Quyen flipped the page. “But here’s where it gets stranger. All the criminals were caught due to tip-offs. The source is a self-proclaimed psychic – Claire Voyant.”

“Oh, that’s original,” Victoria snapped.

“Apparently it’s a stage name, but she uses it now as a legal name.”

“Is that a photo of her?” Troy asked. “Not bad. Kind of has a Kim Kardashian look. I’m surprised she didn’t make it. What’s in it for her? These tip-offs, I mean.”

“She gets financial rewards from solving the cases. She predicts who and where the criminals will be, reports it to police, and they arrest them. She has a perfect accuracy rate so far.”

“How does she do it?” Troy asked.

“That’s the mystery. I’ve got suspicions about Miss Voyant.”

Suddenly, Troy’s phone rang. He answered, and within seconds the conversation was over. “We’ve got something. Looks like our psychic friend has caught another criminal. High school teacher caught stealing money. Quyen, want to take the honours?”

“Actually, I’ve got something else to do,” she said. “Victoria will handle it, won’t you?”

Victoria picked up her gear. “Sure. But remember, you have to earn your nickname here.”

* * *

Quyen knew where to look. The others had been captivated by the live coverage of the arrest and the press conference, but she knew that the heart of the story was uncovering who Claire Voyant really was. To do that, she had to get in now while she knew Claire was away. Despite her rising fame, Claire kept a low profile in a modest apartment on the outskirts of the city. It didn’t take much effort for Claire to find a way in. There wasn’t much to go through – the apartment was rather bare, with only a small amount of furniture. Even the bedroom was sparse. She knew, however, there was always more than meets the eye. It was so well hidden that even Quyen nearly missed it. The wardrobe had a secret compartment. Inside was a stash of memorabilia from Claire’s performing days – costumes, posters, ticket stubs. More importantly, she found a small collection of books. At first they were typical books on magic and illusion. However, closer inspection revealed the source of Claire’s trickery.

Quyen placed everything back the way it was. She pulled out her phone and dialled the police chief. She had it figured out. Claire wasn’t a psychic. She was an expert hypnotist. Her mastery of hypnosis allowed her to fool her audiences. Now, she had a bigger show with more to gain. The accused criminals had been controlled by Claire, who then set them up to be caught. She would then cash in on the reward while innocent people rotted in jail.

“Hello? Chief Bond? It’s Sanders. Claire Voyant is a fraud. I can prove it.”

The chief’s voice cackled through the static. “Great. I’ll pick you up. We’ll talk somewhere else.”

Quyen left the apartment and walked down the block into the alley. Normally this was no place for a woman, but she was ready to handle threats, and she exuded the confidence that deterred potential assailants, not that there were any present. Chief Bond arrived soon enough. He got out of his car and approached the reporter.

“Chief, I’ve got everything here,” she said, taking her phone out. “Claire Voyant is…”

She couldn’t finish her statement. Her body collapsed in agony. The Chief holstered his taser and carried her body into the car. She was unable to speak or move. Her muscles contracted painfully, out of her control. The Chief was silent during the ride. She had no idea where he was taking her. He was speeding down unknown roads out of town. After around fifteen minutes, he stopped and pulled her out. They were in a remote wooded area. He carried her in his arms and then, without a second thought, dumped her. She slid down a small slope and rolled into a soft, wet patch of mud. He then turned and walked back to the car, mumbling something about “returning to the station”. The ground bubbled and sagged. She realised what he had done – he had thrown her into quicksand!

She heard the car drive off. Whatever Chief Bond was thinking, it was no good calling for his help, not that she had her purse or cellphone with her. Worse, she couldn’t move. It was taking an unusually long time to recover from the effects of the taser. Her muscles were still in pain, but she was slowly regaining some movement. However, she didn’t have much time. She had landed on her back and her body was dead weight until she could move. She felt the warm mud soaking into the back of her sweater. Her legs were being pulled under, her leather boots completely submerging. The gloopy sediment reached under her skirt. She felt her arms sink into the quaking bog. Her muscles began to relax. Come on. Move! Her hips disappeared. All that remains was her head and her breasts, jutting upwards towards the sky. She still felt stiff, but she had to make something happen now. She wriggled her torso from side to side. She risked sinking further, but she had to get her arms out and get enough leverage to pull herself upright. One arm came out, and then the other. She tensed her abdominal muscles and lifted her body up. The suction against her back was strong, but she overcame it with a loud slurp.

She was out of immediate danger now, but she wasn’t free yet. She was waist-deep in quicksand and she was steadily sinking. She looked around for options. Unfortunately, the pit she had been thrown into was too steep for her to get out on her own. There was nothing in reach and struggling would only make her sink faster or, worse, get her arms stuck again. There was only one thing she could do: hold still and yell for help.

Time seemed to slow down. How long had it been? Twenty, thirty minutes? Quyen could only watch as the quicksand claimed her breasts, her shoulders, and her neck. Even when the quicksand reached her chin and forced her to tilt her head up, she kept on calling for help. Her arms burned from holding them up, and now only her hands were above the surface. If she didn’t get help in the next few minutes, she would be gone. Then, she heard the sound of a car. Was the Chief back?

“Quyen? Quyen, are you there?”

It was Troy. She could hear Victoria as well. She tried to call out, but the quicksand muffled her screams. Her moment of panic almost caused her head to dip below the surface. Her eyes widened. They were coming closer but she couldn’t signal to them. What if they walked by and missed her?

“Troy! Troy! She’s over here!”

Victoria, seeing that she had no time to wait for Troy, took matters into her own hands. She threw off her jacket and jumped into the quicksand pit. She sank immediately to her waist. She waded in deeper until she could hook her arms around Quyen. Troy appeared. Victoria heaved Quyen towards Troy until he could get a firm hold on her, pulling her free. Victoria herself nearly became stuck as the quicksand became much softer after Quyen’s rescue. Before she could sink to her shoulders, Troy had her in his arms. Both women were now out of the deadly quicksand, panting and covering in mud from head to toe.

“Where’s the Chief?” Quyen gasped. “How did you find me?”

“We tried to call you after the press conference,” Victoria said. “We heard that Chief Bond was meeting with you. We were worried after you didn’t pick up, and the station had no record of the Chief leaving. We managed to track the GPS on the Chief’s car and we got here as fast we could. We saw the Chief driving back to the station.”

“What the hell are you doing out here anyway?” Troy asked.

“I’ve got evidence to prove that Claire Voyant is the real criminal,” said Quyen. “Let’s get back to town.”

* * *

Quyen stared into her mug. She had only taken a few sips from it. Victoria looked worringly at her colleague. They were at Victoria’s home, both in bath robes after cleaning up from their encounter with quicksand. Their return to the police station had not going the way they thought.

“How could the Chief remember nothing?” Victoria asked. “It’s exactly like the other cases.”

“He was hypnotised,” Quyen replied. “Claire is a master hypnotist. She was with the Chief during the arrest and conference. She must’ve overheard him and put him under a spell.” Quyen gritted her teeth. “She must’ve told him to delete everything on my phone too. All the photos I took are gone.”

“We could get the police to search her apartment.”

Quyen shook her head. “They have no reason to issue a search warrant. And if Claire realises that she’s been compromised, she’ll definitely get rid of anything that could be used against her. Whatever her plans are, she’s managed to cover her tracks well. She’s still the hero in the public eye.”

“Hold on,” Victoria said, walking into the kitchen to answer the phone.

Quyen pondered over her options. This was not going to be as easy as she thought, especially after having lost all of her evidence. She knew that Claire was manipulating all these people – including the Chief, and that Quyen was now on her black list. She had to think of a way to expose Claire as a fraud and put her behind bars before she could harm more people. And, of course, get the scoop on the headline story.

She felt Victoria’s hands pressed against the back of her neck and shoulders, rubbing them gently. “Mmm, that feels nice.” Victoria was very delicate with her fingers, pressing in the right places. Quyen closed her eyes. She hadn’t noticed that her robe had slipped open. Victoria traced her fingers down the front of Quyen’s body, circling her nipple with her finger and caressing her breast. “Oooh, I’m not sure if…” Victoria squeezed Quyen’s nipples and fondled her breasts, rubbing her nose against Quyen’s neck. “Vic…look, I’m not really into…oh god…” It actually did feel good. It had been a stressful day after her near-death experience and Victoria was releasing her pent-up stress. Quyen needed the release as much as Victoria did.

In the passion of the moment, Quyen lost her sense of time and control. When she felt that she wanted to stop, she realised that she could no longer move. Victoria had removed the belt from Quyen’s bath robe and tied her hands behind the chair she was seated in, leaving Quyen fully exposed from the front. And Victoria wasn’t stopping. She sucked on Quyen’s nipples, pinching them hard. Quyen yelped in both pleasure and pain.

“Vicky, please, this is going too far.”

Victoria wasn’t listening. She was zoned out, licking and caressing Quyen’s body. Quyen now realised that Victoria wasn’t responding. Something had gotten into her. She had to get Victoria back to her senses, but how could she do that with her hands tied to the chair? Quyen was also losing focus from the arousal she was experiencing. Her crotch was very wet and struggling seemed to heighten the tension. Victoria sensed this and moved her fingers down her stomach and towards Quyen’s crotch. Quyen tried to scream out, but Victoria silenced her with a kiss.

Then, Quyen noticed a shadow it the window. A car had pulled into the driveway. Troy was dropping by. He opened the front door and walked into the living room.

“Whoa! I walked in at the wrong time!” he said, averting his eyes.

Quyen managed to break free from Victoria’s deep kiss. “Help! Vicky’s being controlled!”

“What?” Troy opened his eyes again to see Victoria making out with Quyen’s body. “I’m not sure if I should be interrupting…”

“Just get her off of me!”

Troy cleared his throat and put Victoria into a bear hug, tearing her away from Quyen. Victoria tried to claw her way back to Quyen, but Troy held her firmly. “Vicky! Vicky!”

Victoria blinked. She gazed blankly at Troy until finally she regained consciousness. “What happened?” She looked over at the half-naked Quyen tied to the chair, then at her own partial nudity. “Oh god, what did I do?”

Troy helped untie Quyen. Her breasts felt sore and she was still rather turned on, but now she had something else on her mind. “Who called you?”

“On the phone?” Victoria gave it some thought. “I don’t remember a phone call.”

“Damn it,” Quyen swore. “It must be Claire. She’s definitely going after me.”

“But we can’t prove anything without evidence,” Troy said. “Unless we catch her in the act.”

“I’ve got an idea,” said Quyen.

* * *

Quyen normally didn’t dress like this, but it was what she could borrow from Victoria’s wardrobe: a stripped woollen sweater and a short pleated skirt, along with her leather boots. She had nothing on underneath. Normally Quyen might have detested going out like this, even when getting a scoop, but this time she hoped it would work in her favour. Her plan was a simple, direct approach. Although she knew Claire had Quyen in mind, technically the two had never formally crossed paths. She could, with a bit of luck, brush off the incidents and get straight to the heart of the matter. She had arranged an interview with Claire, and to make the bait more tempting, she decided to make the interview a casual stroll through the same forest she had been stuck in earlier.

“What’s the secret to your psychic abilities?” Quyen asked, making no reference to anything that had transpired.

Claire walked beside her. She was wearing a black V-neck top and a long skirt, kind of reminding Quyen of a witch. “Criminals are often feeble-minded. Their thoughts are easily invaded. The weak-minded are easily controlled. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Sanders?”

Quyen felt something grip her. It wasn’t physical, but it felt like her body was paralysed. It was the deep, piercing gaze of Claire’s eyes, and the deep, throbbing tone of her voice, echoing the last words.

“Yes, I agree.”

Claire shivered. “It’s a getting a little cold, isn’t it?”

Quyen also shivered. Her nipples poked against the fabric of her sweater. “Yes, a little cold.”

“You had a little encounter with quicksand, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

Claire smiled. “Let’s go there, shall we?”

They arrived at the quicksand pit. Quyen’s legs moved on their own accord, obeying the will of the master psychic. When she gave her next command, Quyen obeyed.

“Step in.”

Without hesitation, Quyen walked right into the quicksand. Robotically, she stood perfectly still, her legs steadily sinking into the bog. Claire circled the pit to face the reporter, watching her sink. Quyen held her head still, staring straight into Claire’s eyes, unable to avert her gaze. Her legs continued to sink. Any deeper and she would be unable to get out on her own.

“You’ve been a thorn in my side for a while,” she said. “I’m surprised you’ve been foolish enough to think I hadn’t noticed. I, Claire Voyant, master psychic. I don’t know how you escaped, but I’m going to make sure that you have no chance of getting out.” She contemplated her plan. “This is getting boring. I want to see this great reporter humiliate herself. This quicksand is turning you on, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Show me.”

Quyen’s hands moved to her breasts, squeezing and pinching through her sweater. One hand moved under the sweater. Then, she lifted her top over her head and tossed it aside. Her hands massaged her breasts roughly, sending more pain than pleasure through her body. Yet, she continued to moan. The control Claire had over her mind and body were overriding her own sensations. Claire watched delightfully as Quyen sank deeper and deeper into the quicksand, fondling herself as she gazed emptily.

“Oh yes, this is so much fun. I’m getting turned on myself just watching you. Imagine what I could do to people instead of just taking money.” Claire teased the thought. “I heard that you had a bit of fun with that blonde reporter. She’s a lovely one, isn’t she?”

“Yes, very.”

“Did you enjoy it when she sucked your tits?”

“Yes, I did.”

Quyen was up to her thighs now. Her hands and breasts were getting sore, but she couldn’t stop herself. Claire knelt next to the edge and prodded the undulating surface with the finger. “This is really sticky. It must be terrible to go down like this. Aw, look at you, playing with yourself. Would you like a bit of help?”

“Yes, I would.”

Claire grinned, staring alluring into Quyen’s eyes. Claire reached out and lifted Quyen’s skirt, reaching for her moist womanhood. “You are so simple, my dear. I’ll be happy to give you one last simple pleasure.”

This was the moment Quyen had been waiting for. She grabbed Claire and pulled her into the quicksand. They both plunged to their chests, stranded in the middle of the pit. Claire kicked and spluttered, bobbing up and down in the quaking bog.

“What? How?” she demanded. She had fallen out of reach of the edge, and too far to grab hold of Quyen.

“I read your books,” Quyen said with a smile. “I learnt how to resist your hypnotism. It isn’t that hard. Even simple minds can do it.”

The quicksand pulled them down to their shoulders. “You’ve doomed us both! We’re going to die!”

“Oh, don’t think I came unprepared,” Quyen said.

“That’s right!” Troy and Victoria appeared. “We’ve been following you all this time. We’re surprised you never noticed us with your psychic powers.”

“You…” Claire was barely able to contain her anger. “Get me out of here. I’ll make sure you are well rewarded. Anything you want. I promise.”

“We’ll be getting you out,” Victoria replied. “But you won’t be causing any more harm.” With a snap of her fingers, several police officers appeared. “And we’ll make sure that all the innocent people you framed will be freed, and you put in their place.”

“And about time too,” Quyen said as the quicksand reached her chin. “It was pretty hard keeping a straight face while pretending to play with myself. You must be a good actor to pull off your tricks.”

Troy and Victoria pulled the half-naked Quyen out of the sucking sand while the humiliated Claire was hauled out by the police and placed in handcuffs. As Claire was escorted away, she turned back to shout out her final words. “You’ll never forget this. I swear.”

“Do you think she meant anything by that?” Victoria asked as she was pulled away.

“She can be dangerous, but I think her threats are empty,” Quyen replied. “The city’s safe, the right person is behind bars, and better yet – we have the scoop.”

“Indeed we do,” said Troy. “We make quite a team. We’re glad to have you on board, Quicky.”

“So I’ve earned the nickname now?”

Victoria gave her new partner a hug. “You have. But,” she wiped the mud and sand off her clothes, “I think it means something else now.”

[DJlurker]

Nice job! You've taken the 'news reporter in quicksand' plot and given it a refreshing twist. That's what I like about your stories- It's hard to find something similar anywhere else.

[PM2K]

Excellent! I really hope we'll be seeing more of Quicky's adventures.

[Viridian]

Nice job! You've taken the 'news reporter in quicksand' plot and given it a refreshing twist. That's what I like about your stories- It's hard to find something similar anywhere else.

It's a nice change of pace as well. I've had several projects on hold for months due to being stuck, but this one was a shorter, simpler and faster piece to output, taking around 4 hours. There's more room to play with vignettes that I haven't been able to turn into full stories.