by C. L. Black
“We don’t need any distractions returning until our baby grows up.”
“Yes, Mum, I agree. Don’t need any bloody distractions.” Boris and Natasha…
“I trust your assignment for Peter last evening was successful?
“Right, that? Well.” KK…
They both chuckled.
“I can’t wait to write all about it, Miss Jane.”
“Yes, Mum, the sequel too, I should hope.”
“Oh, Miss Jane. Still the rogue, I see. I’m so grateful you accepted my offer, dear.”
“Could never refuse me, Mum. Come give the real Jane a proper hug.”
“I shall be delighted.” A moment later, they parted. Mum continued, “Welcome home. This house and I have missed you, my dear Miss Jane Sterling. Please have a seat, dear. Why don’t you review the surveillance of the little assignment you handed off to Miss Vicki? It’s on the server. Please let Danielle know if you need any help with the technology.” Miss Christi moved to let herself out. “I just want to check on Miss Giselle.”
“Wait, Mum.” Jane tapped her iPhone. The room’s tall windows returned to normal. The ocean view to the east reappeared. Out the window, Danielle was getting back into the Rolls.
“Yes, dear—something you wish to tell me?”
Danielle pulled the Rolls around the statue of Sir Katherine, returning to the Carriage House. Jane stood silent until they were out of view and then moved to open the heavy doors. “No. Let me, Mum. I’ll be below. Miss Wright promised us a tour.” She watched as Miss Christi stepped into the foyer and around the house girl, sweet Maria, who was bent at the waist, mopping up the arrival scene. Jane smiled and slid the massive pocket doors closed. She tapped on Pete’s iPhone and waited as the bookcase started to move.
The Castle Reborn
The castle hadn’t had any major work done since 1947, when the original 1910-era electric system was upgraded. A CCTV system was also installed with an encrypted Telex that connected them to HQ in London. Katherine’s mother, Victoria Blachmann, was beside herself when the workmen started drilling all those holes in the plaster. She instructed them in no uncertain terms there would be hell to pay if they damaged any of the fine plaster details and artwork. Victoria had passed in 1977.
Two years ago began an extensive renovation and modernization of the entire Blachmann estate. This time, Miss Christi would watch over the work. She had spared the Castle no mercy and no expense. With great effort, she managed to locate the great grandson of one of the artists responsible for the ballroom ceiling to help restore its fine plaster details and repair the paint where the new sensors were installed. A grand total of 196 cameras were placed throughout the three above, and two below-ground levels. A fiber link now ran direct to Langley—only Langley. The CIA would be running the new Academy solo. And, they were smart enough to run it from a distance. The mucky-mucks in London weren’t too happy being left out in the cold.
Jane waited down below. Way below. She stood outside the elevator, having descended one hundred feet below ground. It seemed a lifetime had passed since her last visit to the dungeon level. It had been only five years. Footsteps.
Danielle rounded the corner. “Sorry I took so long; can’t wait to show you the improvements. Shall we, Miss Jane?” Her proud voice tinged with nervous excitement as it echoed off the granite.
“Lead the way, Miss Wright.” All grown up.
Together they stepped into the Chamber of Dark Passions.
Bloody hell. “How lovely.”
The Nursery
13:42 local
Giselle held Catherine’s hand and led her through a way-too-pink sitting room. “This is Miss Christi’s private salon. Never come in here if the door is closed. Does the baby kitten understand Mommy Giselle?”
“Yes, Mommies,” responded Catherine, using her baby voice. Pink. Figures…
“Good baby. Let’s go see my baby’s pretty new crib.” She tugged Catherine over to the right, though the salon and through a doorway. “Look. Isn’t kitten’s nursery so pretty?
“Yeah, love it.” Oh-my-fuck. I’m in some psycho Barbie nightmare. “Where’s the windows?”
“Do you, sweetie?” Giselle was giddy. The room smelled of new vinyl and baby powder. Her pulse quickened. “Let’s see what nice things Mommy G has made for her new baby to wear.” She pointed over to an oversized changing table. There was a pink baby dress hanging next to the table. Clearly, it wasn’t sized for a little baby. It looked to be sized for, “Baby Catherine.” On the table was a pair of heavy pink cotton panties and a pair of old-fashioned waterproof plastic pants little kids use to wear over their cotton diapers before disposables became the rage.
“You’re fucking with me, right? Hey, what’s with all the Mommy Giselle bullshit? Thought your name was Dani. I mean, Miss Danielle.”
“No, no. You silly baby. I’m your Mommy G now, not Miss Danielle. At Blachmann, mommies never fuck their babies. That would be very, very naughty.” She led her new baby over to the table and wrapped her head of wet hair in a towel. “We’ll take care of baby’s pretty hair later. First; let’s get these nasty wet big girl things off my baby.” She reached to undo the still soggy bra.
“Hey!” Catherine recoiled. “What the fuck, bitch! Keep your fuckin’ paws off me! Understand?” This Dani Mommy fuckin’ G bitch is totally fuckin’ wacked. “I’m not wearing that! Are you fuckin nuts?” Shit. “Yeah, I think this B-A-B-Y has had enough of this twisted shit. Bye-bye Mommy G, you wacko fucked-up bitch. I’m fucking outta here!” She whipped off the head towel and made a break for the closed door. “Hey! Where’s the fucking doorknob?” She turned and—Fuck me!
“Not so fast, baby!” commanded Giselle, showing her claws, taking a firm grip on Catherine’s arm. Her free hand then grasped a sizable chunk of her new baby’s drippy long hair, pulling smartly.
“Ouch!” Catherine shouted, “You fuckin’ wacko bitch! Let go! That fucking hurts. Stop it!” She hadn’t made it two steps and now she was headed straight for the huge metal crib. She hadn’t been at Blachmann for an hour yet and already they had turned one of her best weapons against her. Twice already. “Okay. Stop it!”
“Stop it, what baby?” Giselle yanked her handful harder.
“Ouch! Stop it! Please, Mommy! Please Mommy!” You fucking bitch cunt!
Giselle’s pull eased. “Look, sweetie! It’s very simple. Mommy G’s new baby has two choices.” Her face had a mommy-dearest look. Her tone became more sinister. “Either baby lets Mommy G change her out of these naughty wet big girl things and into her pretty new baby outfit, or…” She pinched, digging sharpened nails into Catherine’s arm.
“Ouch! Stop it, please. Fuck! You’re cutting me.” She started crying.
“Mommy G is going to make baby wish she did.” Giselle punctuated it with a snarl.
“Okay, okay.” Fuck me. “I’m bleeding, Mommy!” What the fuck have I got myself into? This fuckin’ wacko bitch will do it. Catherine closed her eyes. Fuck me. She acquiesced, surrendering her big girl things to Giselle’s prying hands. Out of ideas, she reached far into her past to find her long-ago-lost inner baby self. “Sorry, Mommy.” She cooed, “Baby promises, toose bees good.” She didn’t dare resist as Giselle undressed her. “Baby fweeeeezing. See?” How could she miss ’em?
“Hold still, baby.” Giselle carefully and covertly examined every inch of her new baby’s slightly-in-need-of-a-toning body. She took her time, checking for any signs of drug use, cutting, brandings, or body art. “That’s done.” She still needed to verify that Catherine hadn’t tried to smuggle in anything inside her privates. She pulled on a pair of purple latex-free examination gloves.
“What are those for?”
“Cavity search. Let’s go; legs apart. Spread ’em baby!”
“Fuck you, Mommy!”
“No, silly. Babies can’t fuck their Mommy either. But Mommy can pull her baby’s pretty hair.” She put her happy face back on and removed a fre
sh baby wipe from the dispenser. “Hold still.” Nurse Giselle pressed ahead with her exam.
“Hey, that’s fucking cold! Bet you like doing that, don’t you?”
“Yes. Now turn around and bend over, sweetie? Let’s go; grab your ankles.” Giselle was again satisfied she was clean. “See. That wasn’t so bad.”
She pushed the poop finger away. “It wasn’t?” Bet you liked it loads you fucking psycho lesbo wacko bitch, not-so-bad-on-the-eyes-kind-of-mommy. She took a deep breath. “See anything you like, Mommy?”
“You are a naughty one.” Giselle giggled, pulled off the gloves and wiped her baby with another baby wipe. “Now let’s get these pretty new things on you.” She handed Catherine a pair of pink cotton panties. “Can my baby dress herself?”
“Yes, Mommy.” Catherine wasted no time grabbing the pink cotton. Soft. “Baby Kitten knows how to put her panties on. See!” She quickly pulled them up. For some protection. “What’s next, Mommy? Can I put on my new pretty pink dress, now? Please.” Judging by her nipples, the purposely chilled air had kicked in. The nursery was kept at a constant sixty-six degrees F.
“Is my pretty baby kitten cold? Or does my baby like being touched?”
No shit. “Yeah, Mommy…Baby kitten fweeeezzzzzen.” Fuck. Where did that come from?
“Hurry now. Let Mommy get baby kitten’s special panties on too. Aren’t they pretty?” said Giselle, holding a pair of pink vinyl rumba pants to Catherine’s face. “They’re brand-new; just for my new baby.”
They looked—even smelled—just like the ones her mom always made her wear to bed when she was little. “Okay. But, do I have to? I promise, Mommy. I won’t wet myself, again.” She was hoping her new Mommy, Giselle, wouldn’t really make her wear the vinyl panties. “They’re for your own protection,” her mom would say. This bitch must be in on this sick joke!
“Yes, sweetie, but you must. It’s Miss Christi’s rule, ‘All baby kittens shall wear their special panties at all times.’ Well, except for potty and when Mommy G is giving baby her daily bath. That—”
“What?” interrupted Catherine. “Wait a minute. You’re giving me a bath? No fucking way! Mommy? Don’t. Wait. Please.”
“That would be silly to wear them in the tub. Wouldn’t it, sweetie?” Giselle proceeded to fit the vinyl rumba pants. Calming her new baby with smiles, silly laughs, and tickling her bare stomach. “So pretty.”
Laughing excitedly, Catherine responded. “Uh…ah…hey…stop it.” She started cooing for real when Giselle began caressing her erect nipples. “Mommy! That …tickles…Oh.” Whoa! That’s weird. I actually kind of liked it. I can’t let on. Got to watch it girl. She is kind of cute, though, in a mommy-milfish sorta way. Catherine’s guard lowered to threat condition Yellow. Great, I’m getting fuckin’ horny for this wacko bitch mommy act. Blondes. I’m so fucked! “Hey! Stop it!” Why can’t I wake up?
“Okay. Let’s see how kitten’s pretty new dress fits.” Giselle picked up the adult-size pink baby dress and unzipped the back. “Here, kitten, try on your pretty new dress. Mommy made it just for her new kitten.” She held it open. Catherine reluctantly stepped into the way-too-short dress. Her new mommy was most helpful, pulling up so she could put her arms through the puffy little sleeves. “There you go; show Mommy.” Made from a stiff and heavyweight satin weave, its flared hem hung to just above mid thigh.
With trepidation, Catherine asked, “How do I look, Mommy?” She turned around so Giselle could zip her. “Fuck me!” I look like a freak! The wall was mirrored. In fact, all the walls were mirrored, and the ceiling too. “Hey, what’s with this weird place?”
“Hold still, baby!”
The zipper’s movement chilled Catherine’s spine from the small of her back all the way up to the nape of her neck. It fit like a glove.
Giselle closed and latched the built-in collar buckle, quickly securing it with a miniature padlock. Catherine couldn’t remove this baby dress without ripping it. Reinforcing leather had been strategically added around the form-fitting waist, puffed sleeves, and in the high neckline. There was no way it was coming off without permission. Giselle knew from experience, new babies tended to be very rough on their outfits. Especially the pretty ones like Catherine. She used only the best materials and always added plenty of extra stitching.
“There, there, sweetie, all done.” Giselle took two steps back as “Baby Catherine” turned to face her. “Oh! You do look pretty now. What a pretty little baby.”
Giselle took her pretty baby by the hand and led her toward the oversized metal crib. It measured eight by four feet in length and width, and was specially constructed using the same 4130 chromoly steel used in the roll cage of Jane’s race car. Both were designed to keep their occupant safe in the event of a crash. The welds were all thoroughly inspected before the crib had received its nickel chrome plating and electric leads. Danielle’s metalwork was first rate.
“Time for my baby’s first nappy time.” Giselle released the latch, allowing the crib’s heavy sidebar to drop with a clang. “Come on, up you go.” Giselle patted her bottom.
“Hey!” Catherine hopped up and scooted onto the crib’s vinyl-covered mattress. There was a way-too-small pillow and baby blanket, both covered in pink satin. Giselle raised the sidebar locking it back into position.
“That’s a good baby. Nighty-nights. Mommy G loves you. Happy dreams, kitten.”
“Where you going, Mommy?” Her voice revealed more than trepidation. She watched Mommy G pick up all her things. Not my boots! Fuck! My phone too! That blonde bitch got all my stuff and now I’m dressed like a baby, lying in a fuckin’ crib that looks like it was built for King Kong. She sat up and reached out, grabbing the crib’s chrome bars. “Ouch! Fuck!” She released, shaking her still-stinging palms. “What the fuck was that?” Oops, forgot the act. “Mommy’s Baby kitten’s got a bad shock. It really hurtsees.” Oh, brother…
“Oh, that. It’s just Baby kitten’s pacifier. Not to worry, sweetie; just don’t touch anything metal. The voltage goes up each time.”
“Voltage?”
Giselle smiled like Satan’s bitch. “Lay down, silly. Mommy will keep these naughty big-girl things in a safe place until you’re old enough. They’re not appropriate for my little baby. Now close your eyes, sweetie. Go to sleep; understand, kitten!”
Didn’t like the sound of that last kitten. “Wait!”
Giselle sang, “Hush little baby, don’t say a word.” Her new mommy walked out, closing the door.
Click… Click… Click. Out went the lights.
“Wait!” Fuck. She’s gone, Cat. I can’t see a thing. The clicks were the three electrically operated dead bolts that secured the only door. Locked in total darkness, Catherine sat up, very careful not to touch the electrified bars. I’m soooo fucked.
Holy fuck me! I must be dreaming. Yesterday, I thought I was running away with BP. Now, I’m a prisoner at Miss Christi’s wacko school in a fucking castle full of wacko lesbo bitches. Who the fuck would ever believe me? Wake up! I don’t even remember being here when I was a little kid. God when was that? Like, when I was like, three, I think my mom said. No, I was four.
Fuck me! I’ll bet that wacko bitch, mommy-dearest, locked the fucking door too. What door? Guess it doesn’t matter… I’m not touching those fucking bars again! That wicked fuckin’ hurt! Great, I’m stuck in King Kong’s crib, dressed like a baby fricken Nikita doll in a pitch-black wacko nursery. I must be dreaming. Wake the fuck up! Too bad I wasn’t in charge. Guess I might as well try to get some sleep and rewrite my dreams. I’m going to gaga-fucking-goo-goo, kill my fucking mom, if I ever get out of this—“Ouch!” Watch those bars. Fuck me. I am awake. Don’t cry.
There wasn’t much else she could do now except, lay down and roll over and smell the vinyl. Careful, stupid. Don’t touch the fucking bars. She went about pleasuring herself as she fantasized that she was headmistress. She took her time dealing out Dani’s stern punishment. Feeling less anxious
, she drifted off to happy thoughts of her faraway lover BP, and the gruesome death she was planning for her mom and Headmistress Superbitch. Catherine then devised more deviant schemes: What fun I’m gunna have with that hot wacko bitch, Danielle, or Mommy G, or whoever you really are. Blondes. Why is it always blondes?
Oh yeah…that’s it…Yeah…Do it Cat…“Ah…oh…yeah, Dani. That’s it. Yeah…oh. . . Kiss me there…yeah, that’s a good girl…yeah. There. Do it Dani, again. Now suck it. Yeah. That’s good. Don’t stop—”
Nappy Time Is Over
14:26 local
The lights went bright. Click… Click… Click. The three dead bolts released. The door swung in.
Shit! Catherine’s heart stopped with a jolt. She pulled her hands free, but kept her face buried in the pillow and tried to get her breathing under control. Someone’s coming. No shit.
“Wakie-wakie.” In walked Mommy G, all bright and cheerful. “Time to rise and shine, sweetie. Nappy time’s over.” She dropped the side rail, this time without the clang, and gently patted the pretty pink vinyl ruffles covering Catherine’s bottom.
Don’t move. She’d almost been discovered with, hands in vinyl. Her pink satin baby dress had ridden all the way up to her waist. I never slept.
“Wake up, sleepy. Wake up. Baby had enough dreamtime. Miss Christi is waiting.”
The lights were blinding. Catherine’s eyes began to focus; they revealed that—it was no dream. The shiny metal bars came into view. She stretched her arms and legs, being careful not to touch the bars until she realized whoever-she-is was touching them.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Musta fell asleep. What time is it?” Catherine rolled over and looked up at—“Fuck me!” It wasn’t a dream. Eyes closed, she soon felt a pair of lips on hers. She didn’t move. Then a hand reached inside the vinyl panties. Her eyes popped. “Hey!”
“Sorry, sweetie. Mommy can’t play with you now; it’s preschool time. Come, baby, let go. Miss Christi and Miss Jane are waiting in the Panty Parlor. We don’t want to be late for our first lesson. Do we?”
