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My desires drive me to a new, dark life of servitude.

"Thanks," she said, taking the drink almost without thinking about it. She was too preoccupied trying to figure out what kept nagging at the back of her mind. It was something Sal had said, something that probably would have made perfect sense to her if she hadn't already had... She set the empty glass down slowly, trying to figure out how many drinks she'd had tonight.

Sal took the glass away, but showed no signs of mixing up another drink. That was probably a good thing, as far as Kyra was concerned. Those paralyzers went down so easy, but they hit like a...like a...she tried to come up with a good simile, but her head felt too thick and muzzy to think of anything clever. "Um, Sal?" she said. Her voice sounded slurred in her ears. "What's...um...what's in..." She trailed off. Her jaw felt too heavy and her tongue felt too clumsy to keep talking. Instead, she just let her mouth hang open slightly while she concentrated on not falling off her stool.

"In the paralyzers?" Sal asked. Kyra started to nod, but once she lowered her head, she couldn't seem to bring it back up again. She realized just how comfortable she felt being exactly where she was; it felt as though she'd somehow found the perfect position, sitting here on the barstool, and her muscles didn't want to do anything but hold it.

Sal reached out and touched her chin, moving her head back up to a level gaze. Kyra let out a tiny sigh. Oddly enough, the new position felt just as good as the old one had. She felt like she could stay exactly the way she was forever. "Oh, not much," Sal said, her tone seeming almost too light and breezy. "Some vodka, some tequila, some Kahlua, a little splash of coke, and plenty of cream to make it go down smooth. Oh, and some rare South American herbal extracts. But I don't put those in every paralyzer. Just yours."

"Oh," Kyra tried to say. But her lips didn't move, and her tongue didn't move, and so it just sort of came out as a quiet grunt.

"You shouldn't have been so rude to Peg," Sal said. Her tone stayed just as deliberately polite and calm as ever, but her smile didn't reach her eyes anymore. "We'd have been happy to find a different girl, but you couldn't say no politely. So now you're coming home with us after all."

The words didn't really seem to find purchase in Kyra's mind. She understood them, but her mind seemed to be strangely passive like her body now. She just stared straight ahead glassily as Sal mixed her up another paralyzer and put it in her unresisting fingers. "Here you go," she said, pressing the drink to Kyra's lips and tilting her head back slightly so that the liquor flowed into her mouth.

She thought she was going to choke on it for a second, but then she felt Sal's hand brush against her throat, and that seemed to jumpstart her swallow reflex enough that she could drink it all. It tasted warm and sweet going down. That was all that really registered in Kyra's mind now.

Sal took the glass out of her hand. "I think you've had enough, ma'am," she said theatrically, loud enough that the few other people nearby could hear. "Do you have anyone who can help you get home?"

Kyra tried to reply to the question, to explain that she was out on her own because she hadn't wanted any competition from her female friends, but nothing came out. Behind her, though, she heard a female voice say, "Yeah, she's a friend of mine. I'll make sure she gets back safe."

She felt a hand slide underneath her shoulder, lifting her up from the barstool. She felt another hand pressing at her knees, giving them the impetus to straighten that she somehow lacked now. Sal came around the bar, passing in and out of Kyra's field of vision as she helped the other woman carry her out of the club. Kyra didn't seem to be able to find the energy to look at either one of them. It just felt easier to stare straight ahead.

Outside, Sal left the other woman to carry Kyra. "Gotta get back," she said. "You'll have her ready for me when I get home?"

"You bet, babe," the other woman said.

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