Codes: ScFi MFf Mg Fg ped preg best/zoo bd ds ******************************************************************************** * WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING * * WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING * * * * * * For the love of SPOONS no one under the age of twenty-one (21) or the age of * * consent for their geographical location (whichever is HIGHER) needs to be * * anywhere near this. This is a story meant for legally-adult readers. Don't * * let your kids read this. Don't let your dog read this. Don't let your * * religious leader within the same postal code as this. You know, really, YOU * * probably shouldn't even read this horrible, nasty, terrible story. * * * * Hopefully it goes without saying, but if you ever even vaguely ponder the * * SLIGHT idea that MAYBE you would CONSIDER doing anything even REMOTELY like * * anything depicted herein--GET HELP. NOW. Therapy is a wonderful thing. * * * * This story can (and probably does) contain one or more of the following (bet * * your last nickel on "more"): Incest, pedophilia, watersports, extreme female * * domination, bestiality, psychological torture, and who knows WHAT other * * sick, perverted, dirty, terrible, and disgusting things I can come up with. * * Really, you ought to stop reading. Right now. I'm serious. * * * * ...still here? You sure? This is bad-bad mojo. Last chance... * * * * * * WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING * * WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING * ******************************************************************************** Formatted to be eighty characters wide 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 | | | | | | | | v v v v v v v v 12345678901234567890123456789012345678901234567890123456789012345678901234567890 ================================================================================ THE POISON CHRONICLES Chapter Four: Alliances by Forbidden Fantasy Storyteller I had to admit it--the Delphi Project was a beautiful place, and very well planned. I like good planning. I walked through what my guide called the Gathering Lawn, rather surprised, though pleasantly so, at all the people. There were dozens, and it wasn't even near meal time. Mostly men, chatting and such, and there were a few women here and there, either serving the men or standing quietly nearby to be called on. What I found most interesting were the sundry ways the females were decorated. Some were pierced more than most punk rockers I'd seen, others covered nearly head-to-toe in tattoos, others with brands, others still with some combination thereof. I'd met "the Pythia", though only because she and her daughters were on their way somewhere else. THAT was an interesting few minutes. I also had more men than I could remember (well, okay, not really, but you know what I mean) shake my hand, ask me how I liked the place so far, all of the "welcome wagon" comments and questions. "Quite a place, this Project of yours," I commented to my guide, letting my appreciation color my tone. "Well, we certainly do enjoy it, hmm? Tell me, what do you think as you look out at all these men, living as they desire?" My companion eyed me with that smile of his that never seemed to leave his face. For all that he did smile, though, it always seemed sincere. I arched my brow in thought as I took another look. What could I say? I saw men--happy. Most were tired from working hard all day, but even through that tiredness I saw little but smiles and joviality. Even the females seemed content, perhaps happy to live in a place where they could serve their men openly, without fear of being taken from their Masters. That'd be something. Finally I turned back to my guide, saying, "I see men who are content with their lives, who earn their way through honest work, and enjoy being able to live according to their beliefs." That made the man smile wider, looking rather pleased with my response. "What do you think of our offer, then?" They'd made me the same offer that they made these very men--live here in peace, working on the Project somewhere, and be allowed to live however I wanted. That would have been fine--but I wasn't content to keep a small family in a small (compared to what I'd be leaving) cabin, subject to the directions of others. That's just not my style. "I think it's a great offer--but not for me. I am a leader of men, not a follower. I give orders and directions, not take them." I flashed a smile at my guide and lightly clapped his shoulder. "I'll look around some more, if you don't mind--it seems like the sort of place I could support, but not join." "Ah, fair enough, fair enough," replied the guide, still smiling though looking decidedly disappointed. I realized that, almost irrationally, I liked him. He was a decent sort, one of the few who weren't just hairless monkeys. He took me to a building erroneously named the Rec Room, to a small bar- slash-lounge. There were only a few men there at that moment, quietly reading novels. My guide slid behind the bar and asked me what I wanted to drink. I waved him off but he insisted, so I chuckled and asked for seltzer water. "Water?" he replied, affecting a Wild West accent with incredulity in it. "You want water, you go dunk your head in the horse trough. Here, we serve WHISKEY." He beamed a grin at me--then it slowly faded as he realized I hadn't the foggiest idea what he was going on about. "'Back to the Future Part Three'? No? Ah. Well, never mind then." He chuckled to--or perhaps at--himself then pulled out a bottle of root beer and popped the top for me. I found myself chuckling as I picked up the bottle and took a sip. I looked at him for a moment, deciding how to proceed. Just because I wouldn't fit into his Project didn't mean the Project and I couldn't be of use to each other. "You know," I started at last, "we could still be useful to each other. I've seen some glaring security holes I could help your people patch." That caught his attention, and he quirked a brow back at me as he poured himself some bourbon. He motioned for me to continue, so I pulled out some folded pieces of paper and slid them across the bar to him. "You think your people can help me with those?" My guide unfolded the papers and peered at them thoughtfully. After he was done he folded them back up and put them on the bar. "Maybe. Probably. Dare I ask why you need these things?" "You may dare to ask, though I can dare to say that it's my own business." I lifted my brows at him, then took another sip of the root beer. "You do have an odd shopping list there, Tobias." "Call me Toby." "Alright, Toby. Anyway, these aren't going to be easy. We have the people for them, but we're not going to hurt animals needlessly." "Of course not. Nor would I ask you to. But there have to be old ones about to die somewhere, right?" He pursed his lips and swished the alcohol around in his glass, gazing at it thoughtfully. "Maybe," he said after a few moments. "Are you so sure our security needs fixing?" "Tell you what. I'll find you sometime this next week. You won't know when it will be or where I'll find you, but find you I will. If I can do that, I'd say you have some serious problems." He laughed brightly, lifting his glass in a toast, and I smiled as I clinked my bottle against that glass. The conversation turned more toward chit-chat, and when we finished our drinks he escorted me out again, good-naturedly prodding me about giving the thought of living in the Project a second chance. I really liked him, I found. He was a decent sort, and there were too few of those in the world. Three nights later, I was creeping up to the fence around the Project. My symbiote and I decided against anything but basic black for this venture, to keep the chances of being seen at a minimum. I waited patiently until a guard-and-dog team passed. The German Shepherd's ear flicked in my direction, but apparently it either didn't realize I was there or had decided I wasn't a threat. After spending a moment to make sure they were off a ways, I backed up a few paces, then ran and leapt over the fence, landing silently in a crouch. I strained my heightened senses, and was convinced I went unnoticed. Trekking over land was foolish; while I might be able to avoid all of the patrols, it was too risky. So I exploited the hole in their security. Though, to be fair, it was one they had never had cause to even ponder before. I wasn't cheating, not really. Just like counting cards in Las Vegas isn't TECHNICALLY cheating. Quietly I climbed the nearest pine tree, moving inch by inch to minimize the noise. I had only made it up about four yards when another patrol passed right beneath me. I dared not even breathe as I waited, eyes closed so I could sense the world as my symbiote did. It's--disorienting if you're not used to it. My symbiote is an alien creature, living in hosts almost like a parasite. Though, it's called a symbiote for a reason--it helps its host, just as its host provides shelter and food. It perceived the world through chemical analysis--basically, scent and taste, to use human analogies. The dog stopped, and its human companion reached slowly toward a walkie- talkie. I could sense the dog sniffing the air--then it apparently decided there was nothing to find, so urged its human partner onward. Breathing softly in relief, I continued my climb. I leapt from tree to tree, each time stopping and hugging the bark damp from morning mist. It took almost an hour, but I finally got to the perimeter of the "inner court" section of the Project. Now came the harder part. I knew where the guide lived, but getting there meant crossing open land--which was lit by floodlights. I sat in the tree and looked around, pondering and planning. I noticed that there were places where the floodlights didn't fully illuminate. The clinic--the nearest building to me--was at just the right angle to cast a long shadow. From its edge, it was all of forty yards to the shadow of the Rec Room. Continuing on in such fashion, I could get to the guide's humble cabin without being in the light more than necessary. Feeling confident about the endeavor, I waited for the next patrol then climbed down to the ground. I dashed out of the trees; if I had been seen, they would have seen only a black, humanoid blur. I skidded in the grass behind the clinic, crouching and peering around, straining my vision and my hearing. I saw a dog-less patroller, and waited until I was sure he was nowhere nearby. In such fashion, running and waiting, running and waiting, running and waiting, I managed to get to the guide's cabin. It was a modest building, one story tall but a bit on the long side. I hunkered down against the ground and speed-crawled to the back door. A tendril slipped between the screen door and the door jam, silently unlatching it. Careful to make no sound, I entered the cabin. I wasn't going to go too far in, mind, so as I didn't seem overly rude. Since the the back of the house between the kitchen and the back door was a sitting area, I was simply going to wait there. I snuck over to the wicker chair and was just about to sit down--when I realized I wasn't alone. Spinning around, I saw the guide, smiling at me. "Good job, I must say," he said jovially, reaching out to flick the light switch on the wall. I smiled as I pulled my "mask" off of my face, as one would pull off a normal, non-sentient piece of cloth. As long as I kept it in my hand or otherwise touching me, it would be fine. "How'd you know?" "Only logical way you could get in would be above the patrols. We have everything else sewn up tight. And as for how I knew you'd be here, now--well. I didn't." He grinned and beckoned me into the kitchen. "I was actually coming in from my morning constitutional." "At three in the morning?" He shrugged nonchalantly, keeping that smile. "I like the quiet." His friendly nature never wavered, and I had to shake my head and hide a chuckle. At least I made my point. He had me sit at the small dining table while he poured us each a glass of milk. "I have to say," he commented as he set my glass before me before sitting across from me, "I didn't expect it to be THAT easy. Let me guess-- blind spots in the floodlight system?" I smiled and nodded. More and more, I liked him. Sharp as a tack and not hesitant about admitting a flaw in a system of his. "Well, I'll bring it up at the next meeting." He paused to take a sip of milk, eyeing me over the rim of his tumbler. When he set it back on the table, he added, "It would help to have you, there, you know. I mean, I can guess THAT you came in over their heads, but I don't have the first clue how you managed to do it. And if we can't figure out how you did it, it can happen again--only next time not as a test." "I--doubt that. I'm nearly unique," I said, leaning back in the chair. "So? What one man can accomplish through skill, another can with talent, and a third with blind luck." "You have a point." "Good. Now, then, if I can perhaps bribe you to make an appearance..." He grinned and pulled out a small notepad from the breast pocket of his overshirt. He tore of the top three pages and set them down next to my glass. "That's all I've found so far, but we can get you the access. Those were the easy ones, so don't get your hopes up." I picked up the small sheets of paper and scanned them, nodding once to myself. I'd figured as much, but at least it was a start. I tucked the papers into a pocket the symbiote made and nodded my thanks. "Alright, I'll be there. I'll bring a couple members of my family, make a day of it," I said, smiling. That made the guide beam a grin. "Wonderful." We set the date, I finished my milk, thanked him, then took my leave. For ease and so he could relax, I snuck back out instead of having him escort me to the gate. It was the least I could do. By the morning I returned to my mansion in Montecito, Santa Barbara, California, I'd been gone five days. And I have to say I was glad to be back. I'm not much of a homebody, but it's comforting to be in one's home, able to dress--or undress--as one pleases, surrounded by one's chattel. As soon as I walked in the front door, my favored pet--a darling girl almost eleven years old--raced through the entrance hall and literally leapt into my arms. "Master-Master-Master-Master! You're home!" she squealed, covering my face in kisses. I laughed as I hugged her. She was so beautiful--dark hair, green eyes, a slender but rounding body--and of course the additions. A brand of a stylized phoenix emerging from flames on her left hip, a barbed whip on her right, and a tiger's head on her lower back. Silver hoops through her nipples, studs around her navel, two hoops through her clit and numerous ones in her pussy lips. She was an achingly-beautiful child. "I'm happy to see you, too, cunt. Have you been a good girl?" My Queen strode into the entrance hall, chuckling. "Yes she has. She even has a surprise for you, but we convinced her to wait until you'd had time to rest." I pulled Scourge to me with my free hand, kissing her passionately as I squeezed her ass under the skirt that hid absolutely nothing. Since I didn't want my precious pet to feel left out, I swiftly brought her lips to mine for a kiss with no less desire and passion. The child squirmed in delight, her tongue eagerly dancing with mine. Scourge chuckled and rubbed my back, then we retired to my bedroom. My trio of sluts--Horse Slut, Dog Slut, and Baby Maker--squealed as loudly as my favored pet had. The Sluts arched their backs straight as they knelt against the wall the chains that were attached to their collars were connected to, swishing their hips to make their "tails" wag in happiness. Baby Maker, likely merely days from giving me my son, was unable to do much but put her hand against the mesh of her cage. I petted them all in turn, then gratefully sank onto my bed. Scourge slid onto the bed with grace, kissing my forehead as my favored pet snuggled against my side, kissing my chest and arm. I told them about the trip, about going back to discuss the security holes. Scourge and I exchanged a "look". There was more to say, but I'd tell her privately, later. It was to be a surprise for my pets, so obviously I didn't want them to hear just yet. When I was done, Scourge told me what I missed, pointedly leaving out details that may reference this surprise my favored cunt had in store for me, but by the twinkle in my Queen's eye I was sure I would love it. I was quite content to just lie there and relax, but my curiosity was starting to win out. My symbiote and I exchanged ideas on what the surprise might be. Turned out neither of us were right, and both of us were glad for that. When I couldn't stave off my curiosity any longer, I sat up and squeezed my pet's breast firmly, saying, "Alright, then, slut, show me what you're obviously just DYING to show me." She beamed and grabbed my hand, urging me to my feet. I was led out into the back, and Scourge managed to get my pet out of the way as Agrippa tackled me. He was still a young tiger, but he was strong. And I was tired from my journey and from being away from home so long. As it is said, I went ass over teakettle, ending up flopped onto my back with Agrippa standing over me, looking at me with a mixture of that smugness only felines can achieve and pleasure at my having returned. "I missed you, too, you big oaf," I muttered, reaching up with both hands to scruff his cheeks. He leaned down to bump his forehead against mine, and only after huffing his deer-scented breath in my face did he decide I could get up. Laughing, I noogied Agrippa then followed my pet. She led me to the stables, specifically to the small room built a few dozen yards away designed for my pets to be mounted by the steeds, and asked me to wait there. I arched a brow in curiosity, but she only giggled and ran out. Scourge grinned and crossed her arms under her breasts, saying nothing--but there was a delightfully-devious look in her eye. I tried giving her a stern look, but I ended up breaking out in laughter at the attempt. Scourge came over and kissed my cheek, murmuring, "Trust us, our Lord, you will love this surprise." Something about the way she said that caught my attention. "THIS surprise? There's more than one?" She adopted a "cute and innocent" look which was about as truthful as if I tried to pretend I could shit rainbows. Thankfully--for Scourge, not for me--I was kept from pursuing it as my pet opened the door wide enough to allow her to lead in Prince, the Arabian I'd given to her before she became my pet and relinquished ownership of everything to me. I suddenly had a few guesses as to what this surprise was, especially since I noticed the lack of the specially-built swinging cot-like contraption. I'd had it built so pets new to fucking horses would have an easier time learning. Though she had to stand on the tips of her toes, she managed to tie Prince's reins off, and managed to stay out of the way as he automatically reared up to grab onto the "dummy mare". With rather fluid grace, she slipped under the "dummy mare" and reached up to lovingly take Prince's extending cock in her small hands. Beside me, Scourge beamed in pride for her, since in truth she was just as much Scourge's pet as mine, and certainly made the child know she cared for her no less than I did. I was pleasantly surprised--actually shocked--as our pet spread her legs and leaned back to plant a hand on the ground. She started rubbing the horse's cock against her pussy, starting to gasp softly. The rings in her cunt made an enjoyable tinkling sound as that ebony cock-head was run through them. Suddenly she flashed me a wanton smile, then arched her hips up as she pushed the cock head into her. Prince started to buck, and my pet let go to put her other hand back and on the ground. Eyes closing, she thrust her hips upward as Prince thrust forward, mostly keeping the rhythm. To say I was surprised would be an understatement. She had obviously worked hard to get her cunt able to take the horse, and I've seen enough attempts to know that it wasn't easy without the cot--but she was managing. She had to reach up to keep him in her now and then, but for ELEVEN years old, she was doing fantastically. I could see the horse-seed start to rush from her pussy, but she showed no signs of slowing. Panting as much from pleasure as the exertion, she all but threw her hips upward to fuck the horse. A flood of horse-come started spurting out from between the child's pussy and the horse's cock, much to my delight, she didn't stop. Only when the flood had become a trickle and Prince finally started pulling back did she let his cock slip from her. Even though she must have been tired--and likely sore to boot--she nimbly scoot out of the way as Prince backed of of the dummy and heaved himself to the ground. Panting, she started to go for the reins, but I stopped her so I could pick her up and cradle her in my arms. I asked Scourge if she'd take Prince back and she nodded, smiling, pausing to kiss our pet's lips before moving off. "How did you manage to do that?" I asked the pet as I took her out of the shed. "I kept trying, and Horse Slut--" she paused to yawn, "she showed me how to put my hands on the ground." She smiled up at me as she nuzzled into my chest. "I'm proud of you, pet," I whispered, brushing a kiss to her brow. And I was. I was pleased at the devotion to me it took to do that. As Scourge joined us and slipped an arm through mine, I looked at her, smiling, and said, "I think she deserves a reward, hmm?" Scourge grinned at that, reaching over with her free hand to pinch one of her pierced nipples. "We think that's a great idea. The little slut worked so hard, after all." I took her to the veranda and lay her in a lounge chair. As Agrippa came up for to pester us for scritchings, I looked at Scourge to say, "What do you think, my Queen? I was thinking adding more tattoos, maybe extend the whip down over her neck." Scourge tilted her head a bit, considering our pet. "Hmm. What about another brand? We think she would look adorable with a horse-head on her little ass. Maybe give her a record of every animal she's fucked." I chuckled, lifting my brows. "Then she'll have to get under Agrippa soon, or make a liar out of herself." The pet giggled at that, and Scourge grinned. "That's not a bad idea..." she murmured, looking to me with one of her unique expressions. Lust mixing with sadism mixing with love. "He's too young, yet," I pointed out, and immediately I regretted it since that made her pout. I pulled her against me and kissed her shoulder. "Let's see what HE thinks of it. It's HIS cock, after all. Fair enough?" She smiled anew, nodding. In most mammalian species, regardless of when an individual sexually matures, often before then they display interest and will give it the good old, college try. Humans aren't the only one who can feel pleasure from having their genitals played with well before they're able to reproduce, after all. Humans aren't the only ones by FAR. "Okay, good. Let's let her get her rest so she can hopefully give herself to him fully." That made my Queen's smile erupt into a grin, and she all but starting singing. I chuckled and shook my head, having her come with me to the workshop. As we walked, I had her tell me about what they did while I was gone, and I needled her about my girls missing me to snuggle between them at night. Then she pointed out that our pet was stuffed with cock as often as before I'd left, and I narrowed my eyes as I cast a sideways glance at her. I couldn't hide the grin, however, and that made her laugh. I tried to act like her symbiote forming a black cock-like dildo was odd to me, even though it really wasn't. One of those "things" in our relationship, I suppose. When we got into the workshop, I started rummaging around for old bits of leather. Male tigers bite down on the neck of their partners when mating, which was fine when their partners are tigers with thick fur and tough skin. Not so fine when their partners are girls who have no protection whatsoever. I started working on a small tunic, of sorts, or more like a poncho. Something she could easily slip on and off and afford her neck protection. Working with leather--especially old leather--is difficult. On the other hand, my natural strength was augmented by my symbiote, and if I needed more hands, I could make do with more tentacles. While not terribly strong, they would help to whatever small degree. While I measured the pieces and marked them for cutting, Scourge said, "Marie is having difficulty at Thatcher-Greggs." I was still getting used to that sort of comment. When my symbiote spawned, it had to do directly into a host, which was contrary to the usual way the species does things. Normally, the species doesn't do that if it can be at all avoided, but here on Earth it needed Marie to survive. Being so young, however, it lacked the ability to keep its own personality separate from Marie's, and as such they blended, becoming a somewhat new person, neither fully Marie nor fully symbiote. The underlying personality traits of each were still there, but now in one entity. Marie's ruthlessness, acumen, and intelligence mixed with the symbiote's disdain for humanity, experience inherited from its "father", and its own intellect. All things considered, it was a mixture that seemed to be the best of both, and the result was certainly interesting, even enticing. The result was a woman of unbridled sensuality and bloodlust, for whom bloody carnage was an aphrodisiac. Marie's sensuality was muted, subtle, a tool as much as its own end. Scourge's was raw, becoming blatant sexuality. Obviously, I wasn't really going to complain. In a way, she really was a woman after my own heart. The flip-side to me, really. On the other hand, it still took some getting used to, seeing a woman refer to herself in the plural. Even though I had my own, not terribly dissimilar, experiences with my symbiote, it was still odd, as an observer. A bit contradictory, perhaps, but still. I'd had some experience with what went on in her mind, as sex with Scourge really was closer to love-making, and thanks to the symbiotes we could share our minds and emotions as much as we shared our bodies. I had FELT the way the personalities of Marie and the symbiote acted completely together. Think of all the films with a character possessed by an alien or spirit or whatever, speaking with two voices at the same time, and you get an idea of what her mind is like. My symbiote did the mental equivalent of giving me a sound shake, to turn my attention back to Scourge. "...would have taken over April's position," she was saying. Thankfully, my symbiote filled in the name I'd missed. Someone named Heather Rubens. "She's trying to uncover all that led up to Thatcher-Greggs' absorption of her company." As I started cutting the leather, I thought about that. After a moment, I said, "And you can't just kill her; too many questions would be raised." We covered up the death of April. Another death, no matter the apparent cause, so soon would raise more questions than I felt comfortable with. Scourge inclined her head, smiling at me. "Exactly. She is also surrounded by guards at nearly every moment, so simply taking her would cause another endless investigation." I pondered, growing silent. The situation presented its own challenges, but challenges aren't to be shied away from. I'd intended on keeping to my informal oath against creating more "drones" for my family; they served their purpose, but as my favored pet showed, the hunt and chase made locking a collar about their throat all the more enjoyable. By that time they will WANT the collar, completely on their own, without their will being altered. I had just finished sewing the leather into a crude ring when I paused to look at Scourge. As intelligent as she was, she was decidedly more prone to physically dealing with problems, preferring to use her own two hands though would use agents if need be. However, here was not a situation that called for such things. What was needed was a more subtle approach. "What do you know about her?" I asked, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. "Anything you can use against her?" Scourge toyed with the edge of the ring as she spoke. "We DO have a dossier on her, but there's not much in her personal life we've uncovered that she would not want publicly known." I nodded at that, thoughtful. So she either had few skeletons in her closet, or knew how to bury them. Sounded like a good challenge, to me. I grinned at her, then, and as I turned back to my work, I said, "I think I can come up with some way to help with that problem." I already had a few ideas, but I'd need to let them simmer, let my symbiote help me work out the details. I don't like to go into a situation with only half of a plan, but sometimes I need to just sit back and let the plans start to form themselves. My Queen smiled, reaching out to stroke my back as I worked. She peered over my shoulder, watching as the leather was worked, though stayed quiet. Normally I don't like people watching me over my shoulder, especially done so literally, but if I couldn't share with my Queen, I'd be a sad sort, wouldn't you say? Besides, she knew not to constantly interrupt the work, so it was easier to--not ignore her presence, necessarily, but accept it. It was something I even started to enjoy, that quiet presence and support. By the time I was done, it was time for dinner. I'd fashioned a decent collar, of sorts. It could be easily fastened around her neck with leather thongs, and protect her neck and shoulders well enough. The edges were folded over and sewn, so there wouldn't be any undue chafing. Similarly, the interior would, eventually, be lined with rabbit fur, to be rather comfortable. It would be overly warm in the Summer, but that would be a bridge we crossed once we got to it. I set the collar aside for the time being, so my Queen and I could head back to the mansion. Agrippa met us at the door, nuzzling and bumping into me and all but begging for attention. I kept Scourge's hand in one of mine, the other stretched to scritch behind the tiger cub's ears. As we walked I pondered. This Rubens woman would have taken over as C.E.O. of Fenworth Corporation, April Sweeney's company pre-absorption by Thatcher-Greggs. She couldn't have been happy about her company being taken over, and if she had any sort of C.E.O.-worthy intellect, she would have had to guess something was wrong about April's disappearance. By the time dinner was through, I had--not so much a plan, as much as a list of things to help me formulate a plan. I made this list and gave it to Scourge, who would purchase the items through subsidiaries of T.G.I. Individually, each item wouldn't raise eyebrows; most were geeky technological "toys". But the amount of things I needed would raise more than eyebrows if they were bought together. It would take weeks and plenty of record-related run-arounds, but I'd have them soon enough. In the meantime, I would dig up everything I could on Rubens, and see what I could amass for my little "gift" to my pets. The "gift" couldn't be given to all of them, lamentably, but that couldn't be helped. The symbiotes are, as I've said before, centuries beyond current understanding of medical science, but even they have limits. After dinner I played with Agrippa, noting how his play was starting to get rougher, and he was starting to be more concerned with stalking and pouncing than tumbling around like a true cub. Adult tigers tend to hunt that way, since they don't have the stamina to chase prey down. This rather pleased me, as it meant that he really was learning how to be an adult tiger, and I didn't have to kill his prey for him on our "tutorial hunts", as I liked to think of them. I'd probably still have to wound the deer or elk for him, but he could finish it off himself. I resolved to see about doing just that on our next hunt together, which would take place the following day. Once he was all played-out (which took a couple of hours; it might have been misleading to note they didn't have the stamina for an extended run. That didn't mean even as young as he was he didn't have the stamina to play continuously and knock me around), I headed back in to call it an early night. After asking my Swede were my Queen and favored pet were, I was directed upstairs, to my bedroom. The scene I found waiting for me made me adore Scourge even more. She knew that I would want to enjoy her and our pet, and they both were laying on the bed, Scourge herself nude. She was stroking our pet's ring- studded pussy, and even from the door I could sense both female's growing excitement. Our pet would enter puberty soon, within months according to the symbiote bit we kept inside her (only to help her health; her personality remained unaltered), so she was starting to feel true sexual excitement. As expected, this made her want to be used all the more, since she was not left wanting. My royal attire melted into my body, and my cock hardened as I watched the child, who smiled at me and spread her legs. Scourge smiled at me, as well, a look more of wanton lust. "She's been waiting for her Master to fill her for so long..." whispered my Queen as I eased onto the bed. "She shouldn't wait much longer, then, hmm?" I replied, my voice just as soft. I knelt between the child's thighs, stroking them with my hands. I was quite pleased at the way her skin flushed, and I could even hear the faintest tinkling from her cunt-rings as her pussy swelled with blood. Scourge's hand moved upward, fingers gliding along her small body to lightly cup her chin and turn her face. She lowered her head to the child, kissing her deeply. My cock started to ache at the display, and it took a not- inconsiderable amount of willpower to keep myself from mounting either of them right then and there. Five days is a long time, when you're used to having pussy whenever you want it. As Scourge finally pulled back, panting softly, I leaned back to rest on my heels, then lightly tapped my thighs. The pet reacted instantly, a testament to her unrestrained devotion. She got to her hands and knees, facing away from me, and scooted back until the head of my cock was nestled right against those beautiful-adorned folds. At my nod, she pushed backward, eyes closing. I hissed softly, kneeling there as she started fucking me with sincere desire to please. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes as well, gasping softly at the feel of her still-tight pussy wrapped around me. I'd done nothing to loosen her, to stretch her, as I wanted her as tight as possible for as long as possible. I felt movement on the bed, and without looking I knew it was Scourge, repositioning herself. After a few moments, there came the unmistakable sound of our pet suckling and licking her pussy. Both of us were able to simply relax and enjoy the child, as she worked her hardest to please us both. I felt Scourge's tendrils wrap around me, stroking my sides and back most lovingly, and it caused me to smile, though I'm sure the effect was distorted. My symbiote extended tendrils of its own, some to slide over and around our pet, stroking the young, tender flesh and meet up with more of Scourge's; others extended to Scourge herself, to stroke and squeeze her breasts, to tweak and tug on her nipples. Where the tendrils met, there was that wonderful sensation of minds being shared, sensations. There soon came that time of loss of self; or, perhaps more accurately, I no longer became sure of what *I* felt, what my symbiote felt, and what Scourge felt. It all became a mixture, a whirlpool of pleasure that I certainly didn't want to end. I could feel my symbiote's tentacles stroking our pet, tugging on her nipple rings, as if they were my own hands, just as I could feel her speed her movements. She was gasping into my Queen's pussy as she shoved her hips back onto my cock, faster and faster. My Queen was the first; I could FEEL the orgasm suddenly rip through her, as she screamed and bucked under our pet. My own was the second, surging through me and making me choke out a squeaked groan, the sensations intensified by my Queen. Our pet was allowed to be the third, a near-"full" orgasm thundering through her small body. It was larger in force than any other child her age would feel, aided by the bond between her Queen and King, but soon it would become even more powerful. We ended up a sweaty, gasping heap, with our pet laying on her side between Scourge and myself. I heard soft whimpering and opened my eyes, looking at the Sluts chained to the far wall. I could see the glistening of their pussies; oh, how they wanted release so badly. I looked over to Scourge, who was watching the two Sluts with desire creeping back into her face. "Which one do you want, my Queen?" I whispered, my voice soft from the act of still trying to regain my breath. "Her..." was the reply, her eyes focused on Horse Slut. With a weak grin, I extended a tendril to snake across the room and unchain the Sluts. They all but leapt onto the bed, hurrying to us. Horse Slut dove between my Queen's thighs as Dog Slut dove between mine. I closed my eyes as my cock was taken rather tenderly in the Slut's hands. She kissed its tip, her tongue playing with my piss-hole. It was as much a testament to the Slut's skill and talent as much as the symbiote- augmented stamina that my cock started to harden once more. I pulled Dog Slut's head up and off, and beckoned with a few curls of my finger. She wasted not a second in climbing atop me, and I moved her hips so I was taken into her ass. She immediately started bobbing her hips, squeezing me with expert timing. Her hands stroked my chest and stomach, using just her legs to pound her ass like a piston. Her mouth lay open, moans and whimpers emanating from her most deliciously. I looked over at Scourge and Horse Slut. The Slut was suckling my Queen's pussy with abandon, as she was thrusting her hips onto the crimson tendril that invaded and stretched her pussy. That was such a beautiful sight, seeing my Queen enjoy a pet so much. Such a beautiful sight it was, I felt another orgasm starting to swell within me. This took longer, and it almost hurt--though in only fantastic ways. Once more, every muscle in my body tensed, almost to the point of bursting, as my orgasm overwhelmed me. I barely had time to grunt out permission for my Slut to come before I was robbed of all breath. I felt the flush of her juice hit my stomach and wash over my sides. Her screams echoed in the bedroom as her hips flew along my cock, inner muscles milking me of every drop. There were quite a few moments of knowing little save the feel of her ass gripping me so tightly, until I finally relaxed in a shuddering, lethargic puddle of contentment. She was quick to pull herself off of me and scoot back down, to bathe me with her tongue, licking my cock and abdomen clean. I was only vaguely aware of my Queen writhing against the bed in her own orgasm. The last thing I was aware of before exhaustion pulled me into sleep was the pets sliding off of the bed and returning to their spot near the door. I knew they wouldn't HAVE to be chained up, that they'd stay there, cuddled together in relief. * * * One month later, I--along with Scourge and our favored pet--were at the Delphi Project, specifically on the Gathering Lawn. A small dais had been erected, along with a small but serviceable sound system. Speaking at the moment was the guide from the last time I was here, and he was speaking with authority and conviction that seemed out of place for someone who was "just" a guide. I let that settle in the back of my mind to focus on the discussion. Matters were raised by members of the Project, each individual stepping up to the microphone to raise the issues, then discussion was heard in the gathered crowd. It was mostly a collection of issues that didn't concern me; how certain projects were going, reports from "field agents"--whatever that meant--and such. Finally, the matter turned to security, and the guide mentioned that I'd managed to penetrate it with ease. I smiled at that; it wasn't really "easy", per se, but whatever worked. If he thought describing it as "easy" would help the problem be solved, more power to him. I was finally asked to step up to the dais, and when I did I took a moment to arrange my toga. Scourge and I had decided on our royal outfits for this outing. It was actually something of a discussion between us, as we didn't want to send the wrong message, as such, but at the end it was decided that a presentation of power and authority was better than humility. Neither of us were, really, all that humble. Our pet was, of course, nude, proudly displaying her brands--including the newest one. An ancient Roman symbol of life and fertility had been patiently etched between her shoulder blades, and I had to commend her for keeping her cries stifled. She made only the tiniest of whimpers, which of course were ignored. She had done her absolute best, and that was the important part. I described my ingress, how I took to the trees and hid in the shadows. This caused some consternation amongst the crowd, though to the Project's credit it was at that such a hole in the security existed in the first place, rather than that I was able to exploit it how I did. I gave my suggestions on how it could be fixed, based solely as an external observer of the Project, and the guide assured me my ideas would be thoroughly explored. Somehow, I believed him. With most people, you give them advice--even if they actually ask for it--and they ignore it, preferring their own ideas to yours. With this man, though--something about him told me he genuinely wanted the best for the Project, and didn't care where the ideas on how to give that best came from. When I stepped down and returned to my Queen and pet, I noticed a few men standing near to them, admiring the work of the brands and piercings on the child's body, and the tattooing on her face. They respectfully didn't touch her or even made such a gesture, which I found all the more commendable. I was, for just a moment, actually disappointed that I would not be able to find a place for my family in the Project. However, as I'd told the guide on my last visit, I'm a leader, not a follower, and even following someone like him went rather against the grain. My Queen basked in the attention the men showed her as well as our pet. She was looked upon with a bit of surprise, but with looks of admiration and, yes, even desire, one and all. It was rare to find a woman as "free" as her, who was second in power only to me. Even our pet enjoyed the attention, beaming from ear to ear as she turned around, showing off the work on her back. They were surprised when I swore to them that she didn't need to be tied down or gagged for the procedure. I gave the men pointers, talked about how to obtain the "feathering" look I was so fond of, and such. They left rather pleased, and I saw a few of them eyeing their own girls with thoughtful expressions. I smiled, thinking how those bodies would look with their Masters' brands. I was brought from my reverie by the guide, who beamed a grin at me as he clapped my shoulder. We were invited back to his cabin, so we could discuss other matters. It was rather pleasant, really. Scourge and I sat on his porch, our pet kneeling at our feet, while the guide's girls served us. After some idle conversation that I didn't realize I would enjoy so much, he brought out a thick folder. In it was the rest of my earlier request, as well as some other items of interest. "Now, then," he said as he settled into the swinging bench, "You and your family are, of course, under no obligation. You can, as they say, tell us to go stuff ourselves, if you like." He chuckled, there, before continuing. "Anyway, you should have everything you need for your little--project." My pet perked at that, looking between her Master and Mistress, though of course we said nothing. We only shared a knowing smile. Looking to the guide, I said, "Well, your help is, of course, infinitely appreciated. Naturally, I tried looking around on my own, but I couldn't come up with anything. How did you do it?" The man just shrugged, giving us a knowing smile of his own. "The Project is VERY well-connected. Now, onward to the other matter in that folder..." I scanned the pages, then handed the folder to my Queen, who looked it over as well. I was concerned because there was quite a bit of obviously- thorough intelligence-gathering on my family, but--damn it if I still didn't feel like this man was trustworthy. I managed to put aside my knee-jerk reaction of wanting to demand how he got all that information, and instead mentally moved on past it, to the apparent point of it all. Apparently, they were getting a bit too large to conceal much longer, and wanted my help to establish a new Project extension. While an honor, in its way, I still had reservations. "Why us?" I asked, resting my elbows on the arms of the deck chair and steepling my fingers. Scourge looked up at the man, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Well, it's rather simple. Running the Project isn't easy, by ANY stretch of the imagination. It takes someone with management skills, with an innate knowledge of how to apply people's strengths and compensate for their weaknesses. Here, it's done more or less by committee, which works quite splendidly as it happens. However, to establish a new extension, it would demand much fewer people be in charge--such as your, ah, Queen and yourself." I pursed my lips thoughtfully, knitting my brows. "But we would still answer, ultimately, to you," I pointed out. "As you know, I--have problems answering to ANYone." "Quite. However, you wouldn't actually answer TO anyone here. You would actually be our partners. Ultimately, you would have complete control over your Project 'chapter'." Scourge spoke up, here. "And if we decided to run it fundamentally different to here? Such as requiring all subjects wear our brands, as well as answer to us?" That made the man's features slightly shift toward a more distasteful expression. "Well, that would be your right, of course, but we would ask--not tell, you understand, but ask--that you ran it similar to here. If you did in fact do such a thing..." He looked to the ground momentarily, then shrugged, almost helplessly. "Well, then we would have to end the partnership." He then looked between us, almost pleadingly. "You do understand, don't you? Why we would have to do such a thing." I glanced to Scourge, then looked back to the guide. "Of course we do, but do you see our concern? Trust me, my friend--we, both of us, understand how much of an honor, and display of trust, such a partnership would be. We do. However, we must be allowed true and total freedom." He nodded at that, absently picking paint from the edge of the bench's armrest. "I do, of course I do." He leaned forward, looking between us with a small and lopsided smile. "And I'm glad you see what it means for us to ask you this--which is why we asked you in the first place. Because you WOULD see what it means, because if anyone could be trusted to work autonomously, as partners instead of followers, it would be you two." I glanced at Scourge again, and she extended her hand to me. I took it, and my symbiote seeped from the pores in my palm to connect with her "glove". We, the four of us, silently shared our thoughts on the matter. It was a rather unexpected yet intense display of trust, of course, and as partners with the Project we would have access to resources even my shadier contacts and Scourge's business-related contacts couldn't afford. We finally withdrew our hands, then looked back to the guide. After a beat, I smiled and said, "May we sleep on it? If you would have us as your guests, that is." The man beamed another grin. "Of course, of course!" he exclaimed, getting to his feet. "I'll have a room made up for you right this very moment. In the meantime, please, allow my pet here to guide you back to the Gathering Lawn, as the evening meal should be about ready." We stood up, each of us shaking his hand warmly, before we followed who we later decided must have been his daughter. Dinner was an interesting affair; I'd never had a "buffet"-style meal outside before, but it was a nice, if chilly, evening, and we sat on some blankets on the grass, our pet between us for warmth. We quietly discussed the proposal, wanting to say yes but still not QUITE sure. Just because we both felt the same uncanny and inexplicable desire to trust the man didn't mean we should necessarily do so without question. Surprisingly enough, it was our pet who raised a very interesting point. "You are King and Queen. Shouldn't you have subjects?" Such a simple comment, that, but a powerful one, and one that showed the contradicted the notion that her comparably tender age would mean a similarly-tender mentality. She had that child's simple way of viewing the world, a way adults usually forget about. Ultimately, we decided to follow our initial stance and sleep on it, but I was pretty sure what we'd say. * * * Nine months saw a lot of changes. We ultimately decided, of course, to accept the proposal, though it wouldn't come about for years. Sites had to be selected as possibilities, people chosen to break off with us--and that itself meant we spent more time at the Project, getting to know people. It was, humorously enough, not that dissimilar from a politician's "campaign trail". We made sure people understood that, ultimately, we were the King and Queen, that they would be our subjects and, even though we would of course try to treat them with the respect they deserved, ultimately our word was law. It would be quite a departure from their current way of life. Surprisingly, a few handful agreed--though I fully believe the guide had a lot to do with that. He seemed that sort, to quietly operate in the background, not pulling strings as much as giving soft-spoken advice. Baby Maker gave birth to my son, whom Scourge and I christened Marcus Cocceius, named after Marcus Cocceius Nerva. He was the first emperor appointed by the Senate, and proved to be a good choice. Under his rule--and he didn't become emperor until he was in his sixties--grievances which existed due to previous emperor Domitian, who himself became known as among the worst of all Roman emperors. Marcus himself had no heir to appoint as successor, and instead of leaving it to fate or chance, he appointed one. Suffice to say that he was one of the best emperors, at the LEAST as far as early Roman history goes. It is with such hope that my son could grow up to be such a man that he was given the name. Thanks to the Delphi Project, Scourge and I were able to proceed with our plans for our pets. Our symbiotes first became intimately knowledgeable with certain animal species, which itself involved bonding with a range of specimens. That took most of the time, as our symbiotes needed to be no less aware of every bit of biological minutiae with their systems as they were with a human's. Our symbiotes also created quite a stockpile of phenethylamine, that chemical they need as much as humans need air and water. What we were going to do would be incredibly taxing on them, so they'd need as much of it as they could get. Thanks to the Project, we had access to females of certain species who were sick from things biologically unrelated to our needs, and we killed them painlessly; as far as they knew, they were without pain for the first time in a long while and went to sleep. We collected their wombs and hurried back to my mansion. We then bonded with our favored pet and the two sluts. While it will be described in brief, let me say first that the process was by no means simple or quick. We altered our favored pet's womb to be nearly identical to a tiger's, Dog Slut's to be a German Shepherd's, and Horse Slut's to be a hyena's. While we would have wanted her to live up to her name much as her sister, horse foals are simply too large. Pups and cubs, on the other hand, could be safely carried as long as they weren't full litters. They would each carry two of the species, with large bits of our symbiotes inside them to act as "bridges", of sorts, between the altered wombs and the rest of the bodies. Once again, it was by no means a simple process, but--they looked so cute, their bellies swollen. And our favored pet squealed when she was told she would carry Agrippa's cubs. Her tunic worked perfectly, protecting her neck and torso from the tiger's bite and grip. Technically, he was still too young to actually be sexually mature, but there was enough material in his come to allow for fertilization. Dog Slut was the easiest; not only did she simply have to do what by now came naturally, but the seed was obviously fertile, so it was (comparatively) easier. Horse Slut was the hardest, since we had no adult hyena to mate her with, at least none who we'd trust to not tear her apart as soon as look at her. We had to collect semen from some Project contacts and impregnate her that way. The most enjoyable, easily, was our favored pet's. She looked so beautiful, kneeling on the lawn with Agrippa mounting her. Even as young as he was, he knew what to do. He'd grip her and bite down on her neck, as he rammed his thorny cock into her. She gritted her teeth against the pain and even managed to work back against him, until his milky seed flooded out of her engorged cunt. From then on, all three of them were confined to my bedroom, and they were more than content to do just that. We would often catch them grinning to each other as they rubbed their stomachs, and they took immeasurable delight when we rented some sonography equipment to take ultrasound "pictures" of the developing animals. The hyena cubs would have no parent to learn from, which would be just as well. Scourge wanted them for her personal pets (I had Agrippa, after all, she pointed out adroitly), and it would be easier if she only had their natural instincts to contend with, instead of the additional teachings a hyena parent would impart. The pregnancies lasted just a touch longer than what would be normal for their species, during which time Scourge's and my own symbiotes were pushed to exhaustion. It wasn't easy keeping such large bits fed and updated. Of course, they would have to stay in the females, since we would probably do such a thing again at some point, and it was honestly easier than trying to revert the changes just to reabsorb the "bits" (a term used very loosely, here, of course). Agrippa was on-hand for the birth of his cubs, a male and female, and as expected took on a role more like a "big brother" than a parent, but that was perfectly fine. They would look upon Scourge and myself as parents. Dog Slut delivered her two puppies just fine, as did Horse Slut with her hyenas. All of the offspring nursed from their "mothers", though our favored pet had to stifle giggles as her cubs milked her with their paws. Their mothers adored them, and gave them just as much love and affection as if they were their human offspring. What my heart ache in pleasure was how our pet loved her womb being used for the tigers. She loved Agrippa much like a brother, since he held as much of my favor as did she, and truly loved being able to bear him children. After taking a few weeks to simply rest and let our symbiotes regenerate the "bits" that were given to our pets, I finally turned to the matter of Heather Rubens. My "grocery list" of items had come in, though I'd obviously not had the chance to do anything with them but shove them aside, but now it was time to deal with her. She was about to blow the whistle, as it were, on certain less-than- savory aspects of Thatcher-Greggs, International, and we obviously couldn't have that. We also couldn't outright kill her, either, as that would raise far more questions than it would answer. Now, I confess, I could have simply turned her into a drone, like so many of my girls--but where's the fun in that? Where's the CHALLENGE in that? No, I decided to make her want to be a member of the family. It had to be handled differently than with Scourge's niece, our favored pet, because Heather was an adult and as such would not be so easily led in the direction I wanted. On the other hand, it would make the result all the sweeter. One particular morning, at around two-thirty, I snuck onto her property. She was a paranoid sort, though in her defense it was quite warranted. Both Scourge and myself didn't exactly deal with problems like her tenderly. Her would-have-been predecessor, whom we killed after forcing her to sign everything over, was Marie's sister. So, it's not like she would have fared any better. The great thing about paranoia is that it can be all too easily manipulated. Especially with with someone as security-conscious as Rubens. She had security cameras, a few dozen guards, the whole twenty-nine yards. However, the thing about security is that the very things that protect you can be turned against you by someone who knows what he's doing. It's tough to compromise a well thought-out security system, but making someone THINK you can compromise it, well, that's much easier. Take surveillance cameras, for example. You can disable one by shooting a laser at it and overloading the light-sensitive chip. Cheap, easy, and exactly the sort of thing someone with as resources as she feared we had would do. Heat-activated alarms are actually fun to fool. If you can get past the outer set, you can set one off that's closer to the house intentionally. Add in certain details like cigarette butts left here and there, and you have a very powerful message. You're telling them you can get to them anytime, anywhere. As true as that might or might not be, someone who's truly paranoid will believe you can get to them anywhere in the world. Someone so scared will do something stupid. All you have to do is be in a position to take advantage of it. Truth to tell, I might have been able to actually sneak in. But that's only "might". And I'm only immortal in the sense that my symbiote can keep any NATURAL causes of death at bay. Hot lead is about as unnatural as it gets. So I sent my little "message", and retreated to safety. One good thing about having money is you can throw it around. Guards, especially bodyguards, are thoroughly screened and checked out before it's even THOUGHT about to hire them. The son of the maid, not so much. When that son and his mother live on the property and he goes to a public school with a bad reputation, if you slip him a few twenty-dollar-bills and a key-logger, he'll happily place it on his mother's boss' computer for you. The maid herself--an overworked, underpaid and underappreciated woman-- might even look the other way if you pass her a few fifties and slip in as a flower deliveryman to place bugs. Now, that presents its own list of problems--any paranoiac worth their fear is going to sweep the house for bugs. Probably twice a day. However, most types of sweeps have one flaw in common--the bug has to be active to be picked up. A bug put into someone's phone that's only active when there's a call will be undetectable by most methods. The best--and most nerve-wracking--method is best used on people who do not, at any cost, want their business made public. So if you happen to have photographs of your subject meeting someone your government would like very much to "detain" at some "camp" or another, well--there's no bigger slap in the face than to have those photos delivered to them. Bright streamers and mylar balloons is just twisting the knife. From my vantage point of a rooftop a good block away, I watched and listened--with, I admit, glee--as Rubens' estate went to Defcon One. Rubens--a rather stately M.I.L.F. of a woman, sandy-blonde hair and a rather olive-y complexion--screamed her frustration as she clutched the photograph, ripping it off of the ribbons attached to the balloons and the weights. It wasn't easy, getting those photographs. It took three and a half weeks of around-the-clock surveillance, and three times I came THIS close to being spotted--but, oh, it was worth it. Floodlights came on, guards rushed about; the estate could have been best described bedlam. After only a few minutes, a sedan followed by a new-ish Hummer squealed down the drive and onto the street. The problem with new Hummers--or the benefit, if you're facing off against it--is that the body is usually fiberglass. The first HumVees, military-grade, now those I wouldn't want to face off against with anything less than an R.P.G. And even then I'd fire and drop it to run without waiting around to see if it hit. The civilian-class, however--it's almost sad how much faith is put into them, considering how a soda pop bottle is more secure. My choice of rooftops was not by whim or chance. Though the street led in two directions away from her estate, she would have to pass by me if she wanted the quickest way to the airport, the city limits, or anything else. Now, someone in full control of their faculties would have realized that and taken the more indirect route, just to foil would-be ambushers. Rubens was NOT in full control of her faculties. As the Hummer sped by below me, I leapt and dropped the four stories onto its roof. Being fiberglass, it held up against me about as well as cheesecloth would have, and I landed in the backseat, right between two guards. An elbow to the left, another to the right, the front passenger's neck twisted, then the same to the driver, and I kicked the latter out as I swung over the seat to take control of the wheel. Surprisingly, considering how little experience I have driving, the thing swerved only a little. To be fair, however, I believe the vehicle had excellent tuning. Once in control, I gunned the engine, and when the sedan took a corner I plowed right into it. I plowed into the front of the car, turning the engine compartment--and damn near most of the Hummer--into spare parts strewn for dozens of yards around. The airbags, combined with my symbiote grabbing onto everything for (my) dear life, let me crawl out of the wreckage mostly unharmed. Oh, I jarred my left shoulder something FIERCE, but I'd be damned if Rubens saw me as anything but whole, as anything but unstoppable. My symbiote kicked-started the endorphin-rush to let me deal with the pain later, and I calmly walked up to the sedan and yanked the back door off its hinges. I can only imagine what I looked like--my visage the gold and black of our Poison persona, complete with pupil-less white eyes. She was alone in the backseat, her face covered in blood from where she'd broken her nose on the driver's seat. I reached in and pulled her out, holding her up with one hand by the lapels. "Now, now, now--why did you run? That is truly a terrible way to start off our friendship," I said, letting my smile color my tone. She said nothing, only babbled and weakly tried to get out of my grip. With my other hand, I took out a folded piece of paper from behind my breastplate and tucked it into the pocket of her trousers. "Get yourself to the hospital if you like, but don't show that to ANYone. I'll know if you do, and you don't want that." She managed a nod, so I set her on her feet and patted her head. She-- promptly passed out. Well, her driver was still alive, if barely conscious, so he'd hopefully be able to call. Thanks to the Project, we had JUST enough influence that, when combined with more money than I really wanted to spend, hopefully made sure that little incident went unrecorded. Of course, you never knew for sure. I probably should have done something a BIT more subtle--but sometimes subtlety sends the wrong message. On the piece of paper was a phone number, to a disposable cell phone. Surprisingly, she called it only a few hours later. I half-expected she'd still be in the hospital, but apparently I'd stricken her with fear more thoroughly than I'd imagined. By the time she called, I was back at her estate. Considering Rubens herself was away, the estate itself was easier to get into than might be imagined. The guards were in such disarray that I could almost have strolled in, naked, singing "La Bamba" in Yiddish and it wouldn't have been noticed. I was there for her daughter. She was a cute young thing, all of five years old. When Rubens called, I put her daughter on the phone just long enough to give a timid "hello", then told her that if she wanted the child kept unharmed as well as the damning photographs not handed over to Homeland Security, she would do exactly as I said. And the first thing I said was that she would have to wait for my next call. Getting out with a child was much more difficult than getting in alone. We'd produced a small amount of fentanyl, which knocked young Lisa right out, but we still had to get out of there. It was actually a rather close call at one point. Rubens had arrived home just as I neared the front door, so it was a mad scramble to find a suitable hiding spot. There weren't many options, but we finally settled on the hall closet, believing her to be far too distraught to worry about putting her coat away. We heard her before she even entered the house, chewing out the guards for letting her daughter be kidnapped, and sending them to make sure I wasn't still on the property. Surprisingly--and showing that you really can't get good help anymore--they ignored the front hall and spread out through the rest of the house. Once they left, it was comparably easy to abscond. Through a company far removed from T.G.I., I obtained a warehouse. It took some time to prepare it properly--a series of rooms made of soundproofed flooring, walls, and ceilings, plumbing, electricity, the whole schmear, during which time we kept very close tabs on the news, and on our contacts in the local police. True to her fear, Rubens hadn't spoken of her daughter's kidnapping to anyone but her guards. And they were paid to listen to her, not take initiative and contact authorities. Finally, we called her, and told her to come to the warehouse. She was met at the door by myself, of course in my Poison guise, and led into the small maze of rooms. When we arrived at the last room, Scourge was waiting for us. Lisa was in her lap, naked and dozing off another dose of fentanyl. I smiled at the way Rubens blanched. "What do you want?" she whispered. I cupped my hands behind my back and went to stand beside Scourge's chair. Neither I nor Scourge said a word at first; we simply stared at her, Scourge's sadistic smile obvious. Finally, I said, "In a word--you. You're causing far more trouble than we like." The woman didn't take her eyes off of her daughter, but I could almost feel the anger and fear radiating from her. "You're investigating things far beyond your ken, woman. You should have known to keep quiet, but you didn't, so--here we are." Finally she looked up, to look me in the eye. "What do you WANT?" she repeated herself, though her voice was no louder. "For the moment? Strip. All of it." Rubens looked aghast, so Scourge produced a switchblade knife and held it near Lisa's throat. Tears welled up in Heather's eyes, and with quivering fingers she started unbuttoning her blouse. In moments she was naked, and I had to admire her. For her age, she was very attractive. Rounded hips, full breasts, nice skin (though by "nice" I don't mean unblemished; you'll only find truly unblemished skin on PhotoShopped models or a model with an unhealthy obsession with skin creams). Scourge and I shared a look, her smile widening to its inhuman proportions. She gestured with the knife over her shoulder, and Heather glanced in that direction. Up a set of steps and through a small door was what was obviously the rear of a panel van. It had a large metal plate welded into it to separate the back compartment from the cab, and had only a mattress in the way of adornment. "Welcome to your new home," said Scourge, gloating quite plainly. "You will be fed and walked daily," I said, "and know that ANYthing you do we do not like--well, let's just say it won't be YOU we punish." I nodded to Scourge, and to drive the point home she pressed the edge of the knife against the child's throat just enough to draw a faint trickle of blood. "Are we clear?" I asked, my voice insultingly light by design. She managed a small nod, so I smiled. "Good," I said as I walked to her and held out another disposable cell phone. "Now, you will call your guards and your house staff, and tell them that you are going away for a while. You're not sure how long you'll be." With her recent history of traipsing all over the country, it wouldn't be a huge stretch. She took the phone hesitantly, staring at it dumbly. "Come on, now," I prodded. "Don't make your daughter suffer for your unwillingness to comply." That got through, and she dialed the phone. She managed to keep her voice even ENOUGH, and when she hung up I took the phone back and crushed it. I did keep the pieces, to dispose of them in numerous locations nowhere near that warehouse. "Good girl. Now, we're going to wake your daughter up, and here's what you're going to do..." I went over her instructions very carefully, repeating them only twice to make sure she understood, then nodded over my shoulder to Scourge. A small, crimson tendril snuck from her arm, slipping between the tiny thighs and into the so-tiny cunt. After a moment, Lisa suddenly inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering open. She looked around wildly, finally focusing on her mother. The woman did her best to give the child a smile, saying, "It's okay, sweetie. Mommy's here. We're--we're--we're going to have some fun..." It was hard for her to get that last bit out, though a soft, low exhalation from me provided incentive to continue. Lisa looked around uncertainly, and her mother took her hand in both of hers. "It's okay, baby. Mommy is right here." The child calmed down, and she didn't immediately notice the blood that slowly ran down her chest. Rubens started to reach to wipe it off then paused to look at Scourge. She nodded once, so Rubens tried to nonchalantly wipe it away. "Now," she continued, forcing a smile for her daughter, "you're going to go with these nice people, okay? You're--you're going to go have fun, okay?" Her voice started to waver, and I could tell she wouldn't be able to keep it calm much longer. I caught my Queen's eye and subtly nodded toward the front of the warehouse. "Time to go," said Scourge, getting to her feet and cradling the nude child in one arm, though only long enough to pass her off to me. She was more or less running this part of the operation, taking delight in personally ruining Rubens' psyche. While I left with the child, she herded Rubens into the back of the van. A large coffee can and a roll of toilet paper were tossed in after her, and Scourge laughed darkly, telling her that the can was her bathroom. We didn't return for nearly two nights. When we did, I waited in another "room" with Lisa while Scourge set up a television and D.V.D. player before hauling Rubens out of the van. Unsurprisingly, when the doors opened Rubens hurled the can at Scourge. That made my Queen snarl through a smile, saying, "You must not love your little girl if you want her to suffer like that..." "No!" cried Heather through tears. "No, please! Punish ME, not her!" "As you wish," replied Scourge, and suddenly Rubens screamed. Then she screamed again. Then a third time. "The NEXT time, it WILL be your daughter," growled Scourge, and I could detect the rather large amount of pleasure she took. Then her voice dropped as she gave Rubens her next set of instructions. That was my cue, so I entered, holding Lisa in the crook of one arm. A tiny plug was firmly fitted into her ass, a matching one in her cunt. She was being stretched, that was obvious, though the discomfort she felt seemed to melt away once she saw her mother. Her eyes widened when she saw her mother's battered and bruised tits and cunt. Scourge had rather enjoyed the "punishment". I put in a D.V.D. and hit Play, then stood off to watch Rubens' reaction. On the television, she watched her daughter, naked on a large bed. A woman, face digitally blurred, slid onto the bed, naked as well. "Your mother loves you very much," said Scourge, her voice left unaltered. "She loves you so much, she let us help you be a big girl. Can you be a big girl for mommy?" The child nodded, then Scourge grinned and motioned to the camera. "Say hi to mommy! Wave to her!" The child waved, still hesitant. I got onto the bed and into view next, my face blurred out as well. I stroked the child's stomach, as Scourge kissed her lips softly. "Such a big girl," she cooed, then reached back to grab the camera. It was repositioned as Scourge moved, so it could get a close-up shot of my spreading the child's legs. The blurring around Scourge's mouth faded away, so her mother could see my Queen's tongue slip out and lap at that tiny pussy. "And you taste like a big girl, too!" she exclaimed with false enthusiasm. She resumed her oral exploration, and, behind the television, I watched as her mother squirmed and wrestled with her emotions. She had to feel disgust, anger, guilt--who knows what else? On the other hand, how gentle we were to the child was completely up to her, and we'd made sure she understood that. On the television, the camera was moved as I changed places with Scourge. She held the camera with one hand as I placed the head of my cock at those so-tiny pussy lips, her other hand moving between Lisa's legs to spread that cunt for me. "Now," said Scourge in the video, "this is going to be a little uncomfortable, but if you're a big girl you won't make a sound, okay?" I eased into the child, and she squeaked, but otherwise did her best to stay quiet. "Oooh, good girl," cooed Scourge, reaching up to stroke her cheek. The camera jiggled a little then zoomed in, to get an extreme close-up of my cock-head moving in and out of the child. I didn't dare try and shove any more into the child; just the head was stuffing her enough. Her mother covered her mouth with her hand, glistening eyes flicking up to look at her daughter in my arms, then back to her daughter on the television. In that recording, I started moving faster, grunting lowly as my orgasm threatened to overwhelm me. "You ready for your big-girl prize?" cooed Scourge. "Open your mouth wide--that's a girl. Now, GOOD big girls swallow every single, itty-bitty bit." That was said as I pulled out of the child and scooted up to kneel next to her head. Scourge cupped the child's chin, keeping her mouth open, as I stroked myself to orgasm. Thick ropes of charcoal-grey seed shot out, some of which actually did end up inside Lisa's mouth. She squirmed but Scourge held on tightly, and the child had no choice but to swallow. What didn't end up in her mouth splattered onto her cheek, neck, and chest, running down in thick streaks. Scourge leaned down close to the child, cooing to her as she licked her face. "Such a big girl, you're going to make your mommy really, really happy." The recording stopped, and Scourge ejected the disc then put the remote on the television. She then nudged Rubens' leg with the pointed toe of her boot, and the woman cleared her throat three times before she spoke. "You--you're such a big--big girl..." she whispered, forcing a smile that wouldn't have fooled her daughter if she were much older. "Good," said Scourge, stroking Rubens' hair. "Keep praising her, and she'll be fucked nice and gently. You know what will happen if you don't..." Rubens could only manage a fraction of a nod, then Scourge smiled. Thus began the deterioration of Rubens. I have to confess, I was proud of Scourge. She kept from giving in to the impulses for carnage that I knew bloody well she felt, working instead to destroy the woman's mind. Of course, this also ended up being more a challenge for Scourge than for myself, but I didn't mind. It presented me with another challenge, playing second-fiddle to Scourge, offering advice instead of taking charge of the mind- fuck. It was my gift to my Queen. The videos didn't stop, and her mother got to watch--and give encouragement--as her daughter was fucked, eventually becoming used to it. Scourge taught her to eat pussy and suck dick, though--and of course it could be excused--she wasn't very talented at it just yet. Two months after the initial abduction, with videos every two or three days, it was time to involve her mother. We'd brought in another mattress, and Rubens helped Lisa onto my cock, while Scourge filmed the whole thing. She was at first hesitant, but when Scourge brought out that switchblade, she hurriedly took her daughter and told her how proud she was of her, how she was now going to help her be an even bigger girl. Helping put my cock into her daughter's mouth so she could swallow my seed--which she was becoming rather good at--was the last straw. I took Lisa away to the next room, and I could hear Rubens whisper, "It's never going to end, is it?" "No, it isn't," Scourge replied matter-of-factly. "You sealed her fate the moment you started sticking your fucking nose where it shouldn't have been. Now? Now the ONLY thing we allow you to control is how much she'll hurt. If you continue to be a good girl, she'll know next to no pain." Rubens started crying, and I heard Scourge chuckle--it was a rather pleasantly macabre sound. "Anything..." whispered Rubens, so quietly I could barely hear her. "Anything--I'll do anything. Just--don't hurt her." "Good girl," said Scourge, and I imagined she stroked the woman's hair, or perhaps her cheek. Something comforting. "Now, there's just one last thing you have to do, then you can leave here..." As I re-entered the room, Scourge had produced a strap-on, and held it out to Rubens. She looked at it, then her eyes closed. It was taken without a word, and she stepped into it, strapping it on with Scourge's help. As I lay Lisa back on the mattress, I told her, "Mommy loves you so much, she's going to help you even more." I lightly tweaked the child's nipple affectionately. The dildo attached to the harness was small and slim, meant more for first-time anal play, but it would serve this purpose just fine. Scourge and I stood back to watch as Heather knelt between her daughter's thighs, gently moving one with one hand, the other palm licked and the spit spread on the dildo. She almost lost her composure, but she regained it at the last moment, then placed the head of the purple dildo against her daughter's pussy and pushed in. I squeezed Scourge's hand and shared a grin with her, the symbiote becoming a touch more transparent around my mouth so it could be seen. Right then, we knew Rubens was ours. Looking back, I think it was right about then that some large part of Rubens' soul died--but, to be quite fair about it, if she'd kept her opinions to herself, none of that would have happened. Her would-have-been predecessor died, and instead of taking the hint and keeping to herself, she had to poke around. We let the woman fuck her child for a good ten minutes, quite enjoying the sight of the tiny ersatz cock disappear into the equally-tiny cunt. I finally had her stop, and got a pout from Scourge for my trouble, but I reminded her we had things to tend to. She nodded, if still somewhat disappointed, and I took Lisa away while Scourge gave Heather her final instructions. She was taken back to her estate, where the next two days were spent setting her affairs in order, letting go her staff, handing off business ties-- basically giving up her life. She arrived on my doorstep the second evening, head bowed in submission. She was beaten, and she knew it. She never gave us trouble again. Seeing how well her daughter was treated--as long as she herself was a good girl--she seemed to resolve herself to her fate. She was kept out of sight, of course, not even allowed into my bedroom, where her daughter spent a lot of time. Lisa--renamed Ophelia after the character in "Hamlet"--grew close to our favored pet. The pet delighted in becoming like a sister to her, helping her learn how to please her King and Queen. Not-so-tragically, Rubens died less than two months after moving into my mansion. And, no, neither Scourge or myself (physically), ah, "encouraged" her death. Like I said, she lost a part of her soul, and apparently it was a part she couldn't live without. Ah, well. Omelette, broken eggs, et cetera, et cetera. I HAD rather hoped to keep her around, but perhaps we'd have better luck with our next attempt at "taming" an adult. We'd have to see. The future was unknown, but definitely bright. END OF CHAPTER FOUR