by C. L. Black
“Yes, it’s something like that.” She turned the knob and pushed. “Sorry about the mess.”
“Your bedroom?” Catherine was amazed to find that it looked, normal.
“Affirmative.” Danielle opened a cabinet and removed a Wii stomp pad. “You know how to play Wii, don’t you?” She connected it to the game console and pressed the power button. She grabbed a disk from the stack on the shelf, under the Wii, and loaded it. A tap to her iPhone lit the forty-six-inch LCD panel on the wall.
“Like duh… Doesn’t everyone?” Catherine glanced around, surveying, Danielle’s bedroom. It was a lot like hers, except for the flat screen, and all the pictures of Ferraris and the life-size poster of a Cowboys cheerleader on the wall. “So, you’re like, a dyke; right?”
Danielle ignored the jab. “I think that this should help you get the basics, and save my feet. Please remove your heels. They’ll puncture the stomp pad.” She started to straighten up.
“What?” Catherine looked down at her pink stilettos, “Oh yeah.” She kicked off the heels and started dancing, sort of, following along to the Wii.
“I’m not usually this messy,” said Danielle as she neatened up.
“What? My room’s way worse,” offered Catherine, watching Dani collect magazines. Road and Track… cool. Flying… yuck. Combat Handguns… interesting. Hush-Hush lingerie… very interesting. Trains? “You like trains?”
“Hey, you’re getting it.”
“What?” What gives? Is she a dyke?
“Nothing. You’re boots are really cool.”
“Yeah, I know.” She tried to concentrate. It took a while, but she started to get into a rhythm. This was the most fun she had in weeks. “I learned to wear them playing Wii, bowling, mostly.”
“Hey babe, you’re actually getting the hang of it. Nice.”
“Yeah, I haven’t played for a while.” Babe? Catherine’s feet slowed. Her head swung around to see Danielle sitting on her made bed. “Fuck me!” She nearly fell. “You’re fucking bald too?” They are fricken wigs. “I knew you weren’t two people.”
“What’d you say?” Danielle was brushing her cutie blond Mommy G hair and it wasn’t on her head. She muted the sound and with it the moment.
“Nothing. Sorry.” You did it again. Shut up! You shut up! I hate you. Pussy.
“Hey baby, you okay?”
Interesting…
The Knotty Girl, 3 miles off the coast of Cannes, France, 16:23 Paris time
Captain Ursula Hessler, German Navy retired, made her way through KK’s very pink stateroom. The yacht’s captain for a month, she paused to feel the side by side gold-plated stripper poles. Interesting… She knocked, announced herself before stepping into KK’s lavishly appointed bathroom. Empty. The gilded bath was covered in the same Italian marble used in the Castle. The fixtures were all plated with twenty-four-karat gold. The setting was inspired from the Castle’s master bath.
KK’s stateroom, bath, play-in wardrobe/dressing room, and secret adjoining keep had cost her close to a million euros when she had the Knotty Girl redecorated. Papa had given her the sixty-million-dollar yacht for her twenty-fifth birthday. One month later, Papa took delivery of a new yacht, The New Order. At one hundred and sixty-nine meters, The New Order was one of the largest privately owned yachts afloat.
A short passageway opened into her dressing room. It led to, the Keep. Captain Hessler had never before ventured this far into KK’s private quarters. She had no choice since Elsa wasn’t on board. When KK had the yacht refitted, she had the forward section modified to include a secret compartment. The sign on the watertight hatch said, Kristin’s Kloset & Keep. Underneath, in smaller print, No pricks allowed. Upon being hired, the captain had been instructed by Elsa, “Enter only if we’re sinking.” She pushed on the hatch.
“Sorry to intrude on you two, ladies. Miss Krump?”
Katrina unfastened KK’s ball gag.
“Ja, what is it?” KK twisted as Katrina spun her subject to face the captain. “Can’t you see I’m a little tied up right now?”
“My apologies, Miss Krump.” The captain found the sight captivating. She swallowed once, and stepped forward and prepared to hand over the message. Realizing KK’s state, she stopped. “Miss Krump, we just received this urgent communication from Papa. The aircraft carrying Petra’s mother has gone missing, somewhere over the Atlantic. Papa insists you return to Paris at once.”
“Petra’s mama?” asked KK in a panic, turning white with fear. “Not from Rio?”
“Wasn’t Air France, was it?”
“Why, yes, Miss Sterling. Flight four-four-seven. Rio to Paris. Went—”
“Oh, Miss Jane! Petra!” KK’s face telegraphed her anguish.
“KK, you must go to her at once.”
“But what can I do?” The floodgates opened.
“You need to be strong. Go and comfort her. I shall go with you.”
“You? Ja, I think that’s a good thing. Papa will know what to do.”
“Yes, sweetie, I’m sure it will be.” That bloody bastard brought it down.
KK took charge. “Captain, instruct the helicopter to return at once. Have my pink stallion ready to fly to Paris in one hour.”
“Actually Miss Krump, Papa has already arranged for everything. The helicopter is due to arrive in ten minutes. Before I entered your… I spoke with Elsa. Your jet is being readied for an immediate departure. There is one potential snag. Your pilots are on leave until zero-six-hundred tomorrow. Elsa asked if Miss Sterling would assist her in the cockpit.”
The KAT in black latex signaled Miss Sterling’s approval.
The captain said, “Elsa informed; flight time up to Le Bourget should be just over one hour. Karla has returned to Paris. Your papa insists she take you to meet Petra’s train. Hopefully, your Petra hasn’t seen the news reports.”
“Ja; thank you, captain. Leave us.” Katrina pulled the safety catch, releasing the elaborate suspension bondage device. KK hit the deck—hard. “I shall ensure Miss Krump is readied for our journey.”
“Very good, Miss Sterling.” Captain Hessler bowed. “Once again, my sincere apologies for disturbing you two, ladies.” The captain now understood what it meant all those times KK had said she was going down below with Elsa to get her kinks out. Elsa was truly a girl of many uniforms. Apparently so was Miss Sterling.
Ja…
It’s My Fault
Onboard KK’s Gulfstream, speeding towards Paris
The cockpit was stuffed to capacity. Jane flew right seat and worked the radios. Flying left seat, Elsa’s hands were firmly on the controls as Jane selected Paris Approach on the VHF and checked in with Air Traffic Control. Between them, KK continued her nonstop yapping. She bounced nervously over the jet’s jump seat. The small pull-out seat allowed for an observer to be up front with the pilots. They had stopped listening to KK’s emotional gibberish twenty minutes ago.
KK pulled Jane’s headphone from her ear and protested, “It’s my fault. You don’t understand! Her mama was on the flight. Petra isn’t really eighteen! She’s nearly sixteen.”
Jane and Elsa both turned to face KK and said, “What!”
KK could see severe turbulence ahead. “Ja, I know. She ran away when she was fourteen. She was on the streets until she met. You know the story.”
Jane engaged the autopilot. “Yes, go on.”
“She kept her; even hired a tutor. She introduced her to a friend in her sewing circle who knew I was looking for a fresh face. She’s to be the face of Wet. Isn’t she lovely?”
“Yes, dear. Get to the point.”
“Ja, ja, I am. Her mama saw a picture of us on the Internet last week. You remember? I lunched with her in Cannes that day you left me.”
“What of it?”
“The paparazzi snapped several of her and me together, and later, on the Knotty Girl, kissing. Her mama called the Hush-Hush offices in Paris and said if Petra didn’t call her right away, she would send the
police to arrest me for kidnapping! Ja! Can you believe it? Well, I had her call her mama straight away. I talked to her too. Ja. She was most charming once Petra told her she was well.”
“Get to the bloody point, girl!”
“Well, I told you! She is to be my new face but she needed to sign the model’s consent and the contract.” KK looked about to burst, then spewed, “But Petra is underage. Her mama was on her way to Paris to meet with Papa and the contract people. Petra was so looking forward to her mama’s arrival. They talked on the phone every night. She’s going to be so devastated.”
“We don’t know if she’s dead yet. The plane was only confirmed missing, not crashed. Miss Krump! Get a grip on yourself, young lady! Petra will need you to be strong for her.” She took hold of KK’s hand and squeezed. “You must, my love.” Bloody hell.
“Ja, I will try. But it’s my fault.” KK wouldn’t let go.
“Nonsense, KK.” Jane shook free. “If it did indeed crash, it’s an unfortunate occurrence. We’ll all have to deal with it.”
Paris Approach cleared them for a visual to runway 03 at Le Bourget. “Contact tower on 118.925.” Their approach would take them in over the city and past the—
“Look Miss Jane, the Eiffel!” KK unbelted and stretched across Jane’s chest to get and give a better view. “Don’t you remember?”
She remembered. Plenty. She whacked KK’s bum, then switched to tower frequency. Le Bourget cleared them to land. Remember what? Jane keyed the mike. “Roger Le Bourget Gulfstream Six-Niner-Kilo-Kilo cleared to land. Full Stop.” Her right finger released the mike button. “KK! We’re a little busy. Flaps to land, and strap her in! Gag her too!”
“Sorry.” KK did her best honey-pot tease, sliding off and into her seat.
Elsa positioned the flaps. “Flaps to land. Runway in sight.”
“Roger, I have it too. Confirm Zero-Three. Gear down.”
“Why don’t you take her in, Mistress Sterling?”
Elsa dropped the gear and called the lights. “Gear Down. Three green.”
Katrina’s kill hand moved to the power levers. Now what? I can’t land this bloody thing. “No Elsa, I’ve had enough fun with her. You take her. Please love, she’s all yours.”
“Well, if you insist.” Elsa re-gripped the yoke then placed her right hand over the one still clutching the power levers. A press of the big red button under her left thumb disengaged the autopilot. “I have her now.”
“Brilliant love, she’s all yours.” Her kill hand securely locked in place, the GoodKnight took a moment to observe the understudy. The old Cougar liked what she saw. Cool, calm and confident—but most of all, capable hands. Yes, Elsa was the perfect match for after. Ja. Katrina’s grip eased.
“Do you want her back?” Elsa clenched down on Jane’s hand.
“Who’s back?”
Elsa squeezed harder, adding her manicured nails and repeated the command. “Arm spoilers!”
“Sorry. Roger, Captain.” Jane slipped free from, Katrina’s grip, then Elsa’s, to arm the spoilers for landing. “Spoilers armed. Three green, we’re cleared and configured.”
“Confirmed, three green, cleared to land. Zero-three, full stop.”
Elsa piloted them in for a smooth touchdown, exited the runway and taxied to parking.
“Well done, Elsa.” Yes, most capable. Perhaps, it was time. Nein!
Sharing Time
The Panty Parlor, 11:25 local
They’d been there for twenty-five minutes. Miss Christi was seated, centered on the sofa, sipping her tea. Catherine sat shivering in the loveseat. Since arriving, she had found it increasingly difficult to remain still. This was their sixth session. She had yet to utter a single word of kindness. She rocked and twitched uncontrollably; a side effect of withdrawal. Miss Christi asked her again to relate her feelings. She didn’t respond. More minutes passed.
“Do you still wish to become an assassin?”
“Yeah, I guess. When do I get my gun?”
“How long have you been using drugs?”
“What? I don’t use drugs. Honest!”
“Your urine tested positive for several.”
“No F-in way! I promise. Okay, maybe I smoked some pot, once!”
“The machine doesn’t lie. You tested positive for four compounds.”
“Okay, twice! Last summer. What?”
“Yes, dear. Ever hear of Ecstasy?”
“No fuckin’ way!” shouted Catherine, shaking her head in denial.
“Yes dear, MDMA. You know it, then?”
“Yeah, that’s like, the sex drug. Guys put it in girls’ drinks. No way would I take that.”
“Yes, dear. That’s close enough. We also discovered traces of Flunitrazepam and a militarized variant of LSD and trace amounts of MDPV.”
“What’s that? That M-D-P whatever stuff.”
“Methylenedioxypyrovalerone.”
“Whatthefuck?”
“Goes by the street name, Monkey Dust.”
“Monkey Dust? What the fuck does it do?”
“Its effects include stimulation, euphoria, hyper-sexuality, agitation, anxiety, and insomnia. Has an effective duration of three to four hours. There are also aftereffects such as tachycardia, hypertension, and mild stimulation, usually lasting another six to eight hours.”
“Fuck! Are you like, a doctor? You like, wicked sound like a doctor.”
“No dear, I’m like, a wicked good sexologist.” Miss Christi smiled. “I couldn’t resist.”
“You’re a fricken sex doctor?”
“No, my dear. I study and teach sexual behaviors.”
“You mean like Sex-Ed?”
“Yes, dear, something like that. Who gave you the perfume?”
“Why?”
“It’s how you’ve been dosing yourself. Your perfume was the delivery agent. It contains a cocktail of hallucinogenic and other drugs.
“No fucking way! You’re wrong! She would never do that to me.” Catherine was shaking, her voice angry and stressed. Not BP. She wouldn’t do that to me. Would she? No fucking way. My BP… It’s a trick. My Mom! She’s…
“I don’t mean to upset you, dear. I don’t think that she knew it contained the drugs.”
She didn’t. She has some too.
“I’m only trying to help you to achieve your goals.”
“What?” Goals? What is she talking about?
“You still desire to be an assassin, don’t you?”
“What. I don’t know. Yeah. Why would someone do that? Put that shit in our perfume. That’s sick. She’s not like that.”
“Yes dear. I agree. Would you like to help me find those responsible?”
Catherine pulled her legs up under her too-short baby dress and hugged them. She was shivering. The reality was frightening. BP, How could you? Tears dripped from her cheeks. My love betrayed me? No fucking way. “It’s my fuckin’ Mom!” Catherine shut down.
Someone needs a nap. Miss Christi called for “Mommy Giselle.”
Why So Sad?
Gare de Lyon railway station, Paris, 19:55 local
Jane handed KK another tissue. Petra’s train was just arriving. KK was a bundle of nerves as the TGV express from Cannes came to a stop at the station platform. It wasn’t a minute later when Jane spotted the crocodile kitten walking up the platform. Petra had changed. Other than the mini dress, Petra didn’t appear to be in any distress. It was obvious; she hadn’t seen the news reports.
Petra continued, her red heels clicking with each stride. She spotted Jane, waving her left arm while steadying KK with the other. Jane forced a smile. It didn’t work. Sensing something was wrong, Petra’s pace quickened. She was only steps away when KK started bawling. Her pace slowed to a crawl.
“Why are you so sad, girlfriend?” Petra reached out to give comfort. Still with a smile, she added, “Miss me already?”
KK backed away. “I didn’t know. Ja.”
“Know what? What’s wrong?”
<
br /> KK didn’t answer. Her face went white as a sheet. She turned to Jane and started to wobble. Her eyes rolled back. The world went gray. Her legs dissolved.
“KK!” Jane caught her before she went down. She shook the doll. No use; KK had fainted. She lifted the ninety-eight-pound rag doll and carried her back to the waiting area.
“Petra! Some water.” Jane looked at KK, then back to Petra. She would have expected the opposite. Was this how KK would deal with the difficult moments?
Petra was soothing KK’s cheek. “Girlfriend, wake up.”
Still with, Papa’s little bitch, in her arms, Jane sat on a vacant bench and slipped the doll off her lap. “KK! Be strong, child!”
“Wait, I have some Evian.” Petra sat, searched her backpack, and produced the refreshment. She dropped her pack between her long lean legs, opened the plastic bottle, and held it to KK’s pink lips. “Drink some.” Petra held her hand under and poured a sip into the slit. “Miss Jane, why did she faint?”
KK coughed, “What?” Her nose had found the scent, Wet! Petra was wearing KK’s latest creation. She’d given Petra one of her own travel sized bottles as a thank-you present, back on the Knotty Girl. She opened her eyes. “Petra, I’m so sorry.” KK burst into tears.
“Sorry?” Petra looked to Jane, “What about?”
“Why don’t we talk in the car?” suggested Jane, pinching KK’s arm.
“Ouch!” KK was sure. Someone else was also back in Paris.
“Come, darling. Karla is just outside, waiting.” Jane stood, bringing KK up with her. “Who’s in distress here?” Her warning was whispered through gritted teeth, heating KK’s ear as she smacked her bottom. “And no more drama. Do you understand, Mistress Sterling?”
KK didn’t answer. She knew what Mistress Sterling was capable of. Now she also knew what Papa was capable of.
Driving Lessons
Outside the Castle, 15:02 local
Danielle led her baby out the front door. “Like it, baby?”
“That’s it?” asked Catherine getting her first look at the neon pink car she would be driving. Her eyes dropped to her matching shoes. She was back in the pink stilettos. “Where’s the rest of it?” She walked around to the driver’s side of the Passion Cabriolet Smart Car. “Look, it matches my shoes. Is this a fuckin’ joke?” The car had been wrapped with decorative vinyl. It looked like a Hush-Hush shopping bag with wheels.
