by C. L. Black
Us… “Okay.”
“You finish up while Mommy changes the crib and takes this to the laundry. And take your time sweetie. Wash all that yucky poop off real good for Mommy. Don’t want our pretty baby getting an infection. Stay in here until Mommy get’s back. Promise?” Giselle adjusted the shower setting warmer then stepped out.
“I promise, Mommy. I know when I’m licked.” Or, about to be.
“Um, don’t forget your hair, or Mommy will have to cut it all off. Sorry. Be right back sweetie.” She took her smelly bag of intel and rushed to the lab before it was too late.
Catherine quickly undid the pigtails and lathered up. She waited a good five minutes before poking her soapy head out the shower door. No one… She pulled the door tight then turned on the steamer. Minutes later, a heavy steamy mist had filled the shower, fogging over the beautifully etched glass. The mist was like her blanket, both warming and concealing. She adjusted the nozzle to increase the pressure and aimed the wand lower. She sat on the marble bench and checked with the small mirror to be sure she’d gotten it all. Look at you.
Satisfied, Catherine settled back, bracing against the pink marble. It was time to purify the soul. She lifted her left leg, placing it on the stone bench. The stream of pulsing hot water pelted her swelling clit. She couldn’t take it at first, pulling the wand away and then back, closer, until the pressure was again too great. The procedure was repeated. Her clit grew thick with passion. She accepted the magic wand’s therapeutic pulsations and held it there taking its full force. Catherine’s pulse quickened. Her chest heaved. “Fuck yeah…that’s it… don’t stop…BP…Yeah, that’s it…Suck it! You…bitch!” His enraged cock throbbed as it grew larger and larger.
All too soon it was over. She opened her eyes. Her BP was gone and so was he. She touched herself. She was soaked with his climax. Catherine adjusted the magic wand to a calming spray pattern. She stood, returning the wand to its sturdy mount. My hair! A brief panic hit as she rinsed her hair again and again. She was waiting, hoping that her still enormous clit would go away, please, before Mommy G. Shit! She’s back.
Barely another minute passed when the shower door cracked open. Her clit nearly concealed, she twisted to see. No one was there. Fuck. That was close. She turned, still enjoying the warm water raining over her breasts. A moment later, she heard a voice.
“Always the pretty ones. Well, baby! Are you coming out or not?” Mommy G had lost her happy voice. And that wasn’t all she’d lost.
“What the—” said Catherine, stepping from the shower to find, whatthefuck standing by the tub, her hair gone, disrobing. Bald, totally fucking bald! There was significant scarring across much of her bald head, as if she had been scalped. “Are you okay, Mommy?”
“Don’t ask. You don’t need to know.” She shook her bald head and muttered. “It’s my fault. I should have been ready. I thought you’d be sleeping.”
Catherine could only stare. “Huh? Sorry.” Absolutely no hair, no eyebrows, no eyelashes. MK’s eyes darted lower. No pubes, no nubs, no nothing. Yeah—Mommy was as bare as a newborn, baby. “What the—is wrong with you?”
Mommy G barked, “What? Never saw a girl without her hair and makeup before?”
“Sorry. What happened to you?”
“Tub’s plenty big for two.” Stepping in, Mommy G ignored her ears, letting her eyes follow the drips sliding from Catherine’s wet mop. “Looks like we’re past the shyness stage.” She settled into the tub. “Ah, perfect. Hope you like bubbles. I’ll blow you after.”
“What? Yeah.” You know that? Catherine followed, putting her hair up, sitting opposite Dani? She studied her features. “She is you?” Scar tissue covered her head instead of the Mommy G cutie blond wig. The rest was covered in bubbles. Kinda hot … “I mean, you are her, right?” She’s staring at you. Suddenly, MK feared she too would become, totally fucking bald!
Never seen a girl without her hair and makeup before? How lame was that. She’s totally freaked. I fricken blew it! Mommy couldn’t take her eyes off Catherine’s hair, that gorgeous wet head full of hair. “I’d kill to have your hair, baby.” Her stare was menacing. “Hey, baby—what’s wrong?” She reached out.
That did it. Those eyes. Yeah, but that threat, on top of her messy incident, proved Catherine’s breaking point. “Not my hair. Please.” Tears poured, filling the tub faster than any faucet could. “Please don’t! Not my hair.” She reached up, covering her head. “Please don’t! I’ll do anything! Mommy! I want my mommy. My real mommy. Please.”
“Geesssh, relax baby. I didn’t mean that.” Mommy? She feared they might both go under. She had to do something, fast. At the very least, the tub was certain to overflow. Miss Jane won’t like that. She started to sing, “Hush little baby, don’t you cry,” as she teased with Catherine’s legs and feet. She sang the whole song, and tickled the kitten’s toes too. It worked. Thirty minutes would pass by the time the bald beauty rose from beneath the bubbles and reached for a towel.
“Thanks. My mom always sang me that song.” Catherine’s sobbing had abated. She stepped out of the tub into the large fluffy white bath towel Mommy D was holding open. “Does my real mommy know what’s going on here?” She wiped her still drippy nose in the towel.
“I think so. Can I blow you now?”
“What?”
“Your hair, babe. I’d so love to blow it dry.” Danielle picked up the hair dryer and brush. “Come sit.” She tapped on the chair. She took her time blowing out each handful of Catherine’s virgin waist length hair. “There, that’s better.”
“Hey, you’re pretty good. Thanks for the blow job.”
“It was my pleasure, baby.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Come on. Let’s get you ready for bed.” She paused. “Almost forgot the powder!”
“Thanks, Mommy D.”
“Here, babe, I found this in my closet.” She helped the broken baby into a new baby dress. This one was blue, a powdery baby-blue.
“What happened? Run out of pink?” She was sick of wearing pink. Pink is for little girls.
Her new mommy didn’t answer, only smiled, slyly handing over a new pair of vinyl panties, also blue, and without all the ruffles.
Without any protest, Catherine pulled them on. “Thank God for these,” managing an honest laugh for the first time since being delivered.
“Can’t argue with that, babe.” With a chuckle, Mommy D fitted a new vinyl mattress cover. Nothing had leaked through. The telltale odor had dissipated. She added a new baby blanket and pillow before announcing, “Crib time. Sorry, we don’t have any blue baby blankets.”
Although only her fourth night in the nursery, Catherine perceived she’d been there at least a week, maybe two. More confused than ever, the situation seemed hopeless. The beautiful broken baby doll climbed into the crib and took the new mommy’s hand. “Stay with me.”
“Can’t.” Danielle reached to raise the side bar.
“I’m sorry, Mommy! I’m sorry! I want to go home. Please, Mommy?”
Those sad eyes started leaking again. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. She had given up. Then, Mommy crawled into the crib and held her. Catherine’s tears gave way to thoughts—thoughts of MK and, Mommy—
“I have to go, babe. I’m not supposed to be in here.”
“Wait.” Catherine wondered why Mommy hadn’t kissed her good-night yet. As her lips waited, MK surrendered, taking pleasure from the warm skilled hands that braided her hair back into pigtails. MK wanted Dani to stay too. “Please, Mommy D. Kiss me.”
“I can’t.” She wanted to. “Okay; just one.” It was more of a peck than a kiss. Danielle quickly raised the side bar. “Don’t worry Kat. Your real mom still loves you.” Stepping back, she paused at the doorway and shut the lights. “Tomorrow is a new day. So get some sleep, baby. Night-nights, kitten.” Her bald babysitter chuckled as she left.
Alone again. Safely tucked away in her electrified c
rib, she couldn’t believe it. She kissed me. Dani kissed me for the first time. For real, I think.
Elsewhere that night, high above the Atlantic, others would not be so fortunate.
The Doctor Is In
The lab, 23:10 local
“Hi, Sam.” Giselle entered the lab carrying the red plastic garbage bag labeled Medical Waste. “Here’s that poop sample you wanted. Hey, that’s cool. What’s it doing?”
“Thanks, G. Yeah, it’s my new toy, fully automated. I’m running another DNA profile for Uncle Pete. Hey, you want to see what cum and poop looks like under the electron microscope?”
Giselle made a yucky face. “Maybe tomorrow.” She dropped the bag and pointed at the vial on the lab bench. “So this is the really bad shit?”
“You got that right, G. Turns you into a walking talking sex machine.” Samantha held up the small vial labeled L699-XX. “It makes Ecstasy feel like a Tic-Tac. And that’s when they get to dosing right on the money. Which in the baby’s case, they didn’t.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, that’s why she’s been so whacked. This shit has to be formulated specifically for each recipient. Krump’s love potion here can’t be mass-marketed like Ecstasy. If the dosage isn’t perfect—” Samantha made the same yucky face. “It turns your brain into Swiss cheese. We don’t use this stuff anymore. Well, except, you know; when there’s no other way.”
“Wonder who it was really meant for?” Giselle took hold of the vial.
“Judging by its high potency, I’d say someone older and much heavier. I’m still developing the last few genetic markers. But without a known DNA sample to compare it to, it doesn’t do me much good.”
“Wonder how my baby got it? Who would do that to my baby?”
“What?” Samantha thought Giselle sounded a little too weird. “That’s for Miss Christi and Miss Jane to get out of her.” After all, she knew full well what Mommy G was capable of.
“Hey, Sam, what’s that thing do?”
Samantha turned to see what she was pointing at. “That thing?”
“Yeah, that thingy?” Giselle made her move for the vial of Wet.
“That’s my new PCR sequencer.” The doctor turned back. “Hey, G, did you take your medicine today?”
“Yeah, it’s helping. How long before you know for sure if my baby’s all better?”
“I should have the results from this round of the gas chromatography-mass spectrometry testing by morning. Once I verify her excretion rate, I’ll be able to tailor a more precise counter dosage to help ease her withdrawal symptoms. I should have it done in time for lunch, tomorrow. The disassociation and hallucinations should already have diminished. We have to be precise. Otherwise, we run the risk of erasing her true memories along with all the false ones.”
“That’s so mean.”
“Sure was a lucky break you tried her perfume the other day. How you doing? Are your boobs still tender?”
“Yeah, a little. But it helps when I pump them, like you showed me. Glad you know what you’re doing with all this scientist stuff.” Giselle looked around the lab. It was filled with the latest in chemical and DNA analysis technology. A fully equipped medical trauma room had also been installed during the two-year overhaul. It was located just down the passageway from the interrogation center. Its official castle name was the Chamber of Dark Passions. Samantha called it the whine cellar. Every castle needed a dungeon.
“Hey, G, it’s still raining.”
“Yeah, it’s really coming down. ’Bye Sam; got to go. I left the tub running. Have fun with all your whatchamacallits.”
Giselle raced off and back into the private salon to find Miss Christi waiting, ready to intercept her. The doors leading to the master suite and the nursery were closed and bolted. Her watch had ended at 23:00 hours. She wasn’t due on again until 06:30 tomorrow.
“Great. I do the dirty work, and Dan gets the rewards.”
“Come sit with me, sweet child.”
“I never have any fun!”
“Oh, my dear, we both know that’s not entirely true. Doesn’t Nurse Giselle remember playing with Maria?”
Giselle gave a bashful smile. “Well, maybe a little.” She joined Miss Christi in a game of chess while they waited for Danielle to complete her training assignment.
“It’s your move ,dear.”
“Oh, yeah, checkmate! Dan had better be good to my baby.”
“I’m sure she’s taking very good care of our baby, dear.”
“Our?”
“Yes, dear. Don’t worry; I’m sure we’ll find you a nice new baby very soon.”
“Goody!”
“Come, dear; why don’t we sleep in the Tower Keep tonight?”
“Really? Okay, but Dan owes me.”
“Yes, dear. Come now; let’s go see what fun we can have.”
Do They Know
Catherine’s Crib, Monday, 1 June, 03:17 local
Blachmann’s newest kitten, Catherine Black, lay awake in total darkness, surrounded by the bars and denial. Do they know? Each night she cried herself into a restless sleep wondering why her parents sent her to this place. Why is my mom doing this to me? Tonight was different. She needed to find sleep. The shower and that bath helped to calm but it did not last. She wiped her runny nose in her pink blanket. How can I tell her? As the night wore on, it all became too much. Catherine lost it.
It was a despair she’d never known before. The pain of withdrawal was intense. She felt weak. The icy armor surrounding her heart had shattered. For more than four hours, she bled tears of true despair, soaking her little satin pillow. She couldn’t sleep. Her heart ached like never before. Her head ached like never before. She tried to make sense of it all. She couldn’t stop shaking. She felt so cold. She rolled over on her side and curled up, pulling the too-small blanket tight.
She reflected on what mattered most. Why is she doing this to me? It’s the boots, you stupid fuck, my boots. Everyone wants to know about my boots. Who gave me the boots? I don’t know. Just that they were on the steps—Christmas day. Maybe Santa brought them? Hah. They were in a long box, on the doorstep. With love, MK. Who’s MK? Was she that Arab chick I saw across the street? The old German ID; inside the right boot? Was she my real mom? She looked just like me. Katrina GoodKnight Blachmann. Oh yeah, the note. Why’d it have to be in German? Shit! What did it really say? Why’d she have to cry all over it? Fricken paper dissolved in her hands. Fuck it! Who cares? Natasha kissed me first. It’s not my fault. Right, kitten? Hey; if the shoe, I mean, the boot. They fit us both. Oh yeah. You wanted her first. Dani I mean, didn’t you, baby? Maybe. Too bad. Besides stupid; you got the BP. What do you care I have a little fun while we’re here?
From the moment we pulled them on and zipped, it was like a spell. She’s in love with me. No! She’s in love with the boots. Who cares? They gave me my special power: to dominate all who see me, Mistress Katrina, in the boots. I bet the old bitch told your mom. She must have told my mom. I’m gonna beat your slut bitch’s ass if I ever see her again. Oh yeah, her bitch ass is mine! Nighty-nights kitten. MK’s imposter left her to sleep.
Catherine’s thoughts returned to her BP. She loves me. I’ll never give up my rubber—
Click…click…click.
The door… Somebody’s coming. “Who’s there?”
From the darkness came a hushed voice. “Hey, baby.”
“What do you want?”
“I couldn’t sleep. You?”
“I’m fu— I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”
Danielle stood silhouetted by the halo of light that marked the doorway. “Did you like our bath?”
“Did you?” asked Catherine.
“I don’t know. Did you?”
“Come over here so I can see you.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Go to sleep. Your training starts tomorrow.”
“You go to sleep!” Catherine stretched. “What training?”
“I can’t. Hope you like to dance?” Danielle smiled.
“What?”
“Dance? Do you?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Good.”
“Get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”
“I’m trying.”
“Goodnight, baby.”
“Hey, you okay? Are you crying? Dani?”
Click…click…click.
Danielle had secured the door, but would continue to monitor the large LCD mounted over the fireplace in Miss Christi’s bedchamber. She wondered if another cold shower would cool her jets. She needed to get her sleep too. Tomorrow was going to be a big day for everyone.
Catherine rolled over and reached for her secret weapon, beating off the despair. It was the only thing that could quell the pain. Afterwards, she wasn’t so sad. Regained of her inner strength, the young dominant in the boots returned to take charge. MK vowed to keep her little-girl-self safe in this strange place. She would outlast her wacky opponents in this twisted game they tricked her into playing. I can beat them. And I’ll crack that nut case Giselle or Dani. Oh yeah, that wacko mommy bald bitch-ILF is mine. Dance? Fuck me; I can’t dance. Her eyelids felt heavy. That BP… The lids slipped. Mom… She would allow herself some sleep. Just a little. She’d beat them. Tomorrow’s another day, stupid. Go to sleep. Dani… Fuck yeah, that sweet-lipped bald bitch is mine. Goodnight, Cat. GoodKnight yourself, Mistress Katrina.
Katrina—the KAT
Onboard the Knotty Girl, twenty miles off the coast of Cannes, FR, 12:20 Paris time
They had partied till dawn at the les club. KK instructed Karla to take them direct to the airport, where they met up with Elsa and the Gulfstream. A fresh KrumpJet flight crew had arrived in London early Saturday to deadhead the pink jet and Elsa over to Le Bourget. All safely collected, the flight down to Cannes lasted just over an hour. Jane was reluctant to close her eyes on the plane—slightly more than a little disappointed when nothing happened.
