by C. L. Black
“It’s your call, mate.” Jane didn’t want to miss dinner. After all, she had made special arrangements for Agent Daniels. “Wake up, love.” She was shaking Daniels’s shoulder.
Daniels was coming around.
“We’re on final. You fell asleep. Some water?” Jane took a hit then offered the glass.
“Huh… Oh, yeah. Guess I’ve been working too many nights.” Daniels drank. In minutes, she felt the counter-effect of the Benzylpiperazine the water had been spiked with.
Benzylpiperazine (BZP) was also known by its many street names, including “A2,” “Benny Bear,” “Frenzy,” “Nemesis,” “Sunrise,” or “Hummer.” BZP was a widely used recreational drug because of its euphoric stimulant properties. Its dopamine and serotonin agonist mechanism of action was similar to MDMA (Ecstasy.) BZP’s aftereffects were similar to a hangover.
Daniels was going to have one hell of a headache when she reported for duty on Sunday evening. That was, provided that she didn’t do anything that might get her ass termed before then. She had just downed the water, when the jet was hit by a bolt of lightning. “Shit, that was close,” stammered Daniels, quickly pulling her shoulder strap out to attach it to the lap belt.
“Not close. Hit us,” responded Jane calmly. “Not to worry, love. We’ll be on the ground soon. And I promise you an evening you won’t soon forget.” That was reassuring, but the jet was going to need a complete inspection once they got it on the ground.
Up front, the captain called, “Gear down.” The jet was level at two thousand four hundred feet, and had almost captured the glide slope.
The copilot reached over and moved the gear lever. A moment later, she called, “Three Green, Down and Locked.”
All the way down, the jet pitched up and down and swayed from side to side. The captain was right. It was a nasty day for flying. They flew between two cells as they made their approach. They were now on a five-mile final. Jane looked out her window. For an instant, the clouds parted. She spotted the Castle and smiled. No place like home. They were back in the game. Ja.
A moment later, the copilot called out, “Feet dry,” as they crossed the shoreline. The autopilot was working hard to track the localizer and the auto-throttle had all it could do to keep them centered on the glide slope. The visibility went to nil. They were back in the crud, descending through another rain cell. “Three miles to touchdown.”
The captain called, “Flaps to Land.”
The copilot performed the task calling out her confirmation.
“Arm spoilers.”
“Spoilers Armed.” The jet was now in its landing configuration.
Pease Tower called, “Citation Six-Niner-Niner-Bravo-Alfa, Pease tower. Check wheels down. Cleared to land. Runway three-four. Number two behind a KC-10. Caution; wake turbulence for the heavy. Ceiling, one hundred with heavy rain.”
The captain replied, “Three green, Cleared to land, Number two behind the heavy, Niner-Bravo-Alpha.” She released the mike key and said, “Disconnecting autopilot.”
The KC-10 Extender was based on the Macdonald Douglas DC-10-30 airliner. A massive plane, the KC-10’s primary use was as an aerial tanker, a flying gas station. The Citation’s captain was Air force Reserve, attached to the 157th Air Refueling Wing of the New Hampshire Air National Guard, based at Pease. The 157th operated the Boeing KC-135R Stratotanker aircraft. The Extender was visiting from another unit. She knew it could be trouble following a heavy that close, like flying between two tornados. However, their subject was late for dinner.
The captain continued, hand flying the final, staying one dot high on the glide slope in an effort to guard against the KC-10’s wake turbulence. Pease had an 11,321 foot runway; more than sufficient to allow for the safer high approach. She wasn’t taking any more unnecessary chances. She eased the power levers forward, adding ten knots, just to hedge her bet.
Over the radio came the bad news. The heavy just went missed, and was climbing out at max power. So much for tempting fate. Ninety seconds later, fate bit their ass—hard.
I Promised
Back on the veranda
Catherine placed her teacup gently on the table. She returned to the present, facing Miss Christi, who was waiting quietly, calmly sipping her tea. She smiled nervously and sat back in her chair. “I promised,” I wouldn’t tell.
Miss Christi shared in Catherine’s anxiety. She too had seen the lightning hit the jet. Several minutes passed, as each allowed time for their inner stresses to ease.
“Well then, my dear, tell me about your driving lesson today?”
“Oh, that? It was okay, I guess. I can park forward, backward, and even do parallel now. I can drive around the estate without hitting anything, and I mostly stay on the road now. Danielle says I’m still a bit of a ditch driver.”
Miss Christi giggled.
“But I’m getting way better. Sometimes, I still forget to look far enough ahead. She told me I’m almost ready to go out on the roads.” Another lightning bolt struck; this one just off shore.
Miss Christi jumped in her seat. “What do you think about that?”
“I think that was close.”
“Not the lightning dear, driving on the roads.”
“I think there’s no fucking way in hell I’m going out in public. Not dressed like a big baby. It’s bad enough, I have to wear this stupid stuff around here twenty-four-seven. This stupid baby dress doesn’t even cover my bum.”
“Yes, I do see that, my dear.”
“Oops.” Catherine crossed her toned legs. “What if we get in a crash or pulled over by a fuckin’ cop, or something? I mean, look at me!”
“Whatever do you mean, dear? You’re a beautiful young woman.”
“Yeah, right! I’m wearing a fucking baby dress and you can see these stupid vinyl panties too.” She looked down, “Even with my legs crossed.” She huffed, “Hello! I’d fucking kill myself on the spot.”
“Remember dear, it’s not the outfit that makes the woman. It’s the woman who makes the outfit.”
“Yeah, right. That’s what I’ll tell them. Yeah, when they’re all laughing at me. She flipped her well-done hair. When are you going to let me wear some real clothes?”
“We’ll see, my dear. We’ll see. Soon.”
“Please! I promise. I won’t act like a bratty little shit anymore.”
“Yes, that. When Miss Danielle informs me that you’re not a baby, the time will be near.”
“Oh, that’s just fricken great! The one personality in this place, who totally hates my fricken guts by the way, gets to decide my fashion fate. I’m so totally fucked! Sorry!”
“That’s quite all right, my dear. I’ll send for Miss Giselle. She’ll take you in and get our special young lady dressed for tonight’s special dinner. Prime rib with baked potatoes.
“Hey, that’s my favorite!”
“Yes, Miss Jane’s too.”
“Great! Superbitch is coming?”
“Yes dear. She’s bringing a date too. Her name is Carol, Daniels.”
“Daniels!” Catherine turned white. I’m so fucked…
“Yes, dear, Special Agent Carol Daniels of the Secret Service. So do be a dear and remember to keep those lovely legs crossed. Don’t want ourselves getting arrested tonight, do we, my dear Miss Black?”
“No, we don’t want that, Miss Christi.” Fuck me. Me too.
“There’s Mommy’s pretty baby.”
Giselle had arrived with the Enforcer. Catherine’s mood brightened, but only slightly.
“How many whacks did my pretty baby earn Mommy G this time?”
Catherine looked up and said, “Fucked if I know! A shitload, I guess.”
Part IV
Beat Their Game
I’m Going to Die
Blachmann Castle, 18:40 local
The beautiful baby doll stared back from the evening lit makeup mirror in the master bath. “I’m going to die.” Catherine hadn’t felt so good after learning of the
special guest coming to dinner. She grew increasingly anxious as the hour neared. The prospect of being seen, by that Daniels woman, in the big baby outfit sickened her to the core. She wished the glamour doll’s face pouting back from the mirror would just disappear. Please, MK.
Giselle’s bottom was still a little tender as she added the finishing touch of blush, stepped back, and said, “Look at Mommy’s pretty kitten now. All grown up!”
“Yeah, just look at her,” in this stupid pink dress.
“So pretty.” Giselle pranced around in her tea dress. It was clear from the moment she arrived and collected her baby from the veranda, someone was excited to meet Jane’s special guest. “Help Mommy put her new grown-up dress on.”
“Mommy Geeeee. Um, I don’t feel so good.” She finished zipping Giselle, then rubbed her tummy. “I don’t want to go to dinner. Can I stay in my room? Please. Can I?” She gathered her long hair and held it up as Giselle unfastened the tiny padlock securing her dress. She viewed their reflection in the mirror. Mommy G looked totally hot and all grown up, dressed in a fitted white sparkly and satin cocktail dress. Clearer thoughts were on the other Giselle. “How come you’re so mean to me when you’re Miss Danielle? I know it’s really you.”
“Miss Danielle isn’t mean. She likes you, a lot. Mommy G knows she does.” Giselle removed the tiny padlock then pulled the zipper. “Let’s go; off with the baby dress, sweetie.”
She pouted, “No, you don’t,” as Giselle tugged the frilly sleeves. The dress slipped, surrounding her narrowed waist. Swimming was already paying dividends. She stood, took in a deep breath, and lifted her arms and gave a hip shake. Pink satin hit the floor. One step had MK fully out and closing. In her naughtiest baby voice she asked, “Doos you-sses likes mee-sees lots too?” She rubbed against Giselle’s well-fitted dress. Undo her zipper. “’Cause I likes yousses toooosss.” Seductive kisses were drizzled over a cold bare shoulder and up the lightly perfumed neck.
My perfume… Sweet temptation blew into Giselle’s ear. “Please Mommy, can’t we stay? Want to take another bubble bath?” Her topless self aggressively wrapped around Giselle. “Please Dani—”
A wild mouth engulfed the kitten in lustful rage. Ice-cold hands raced around the bare torso forcing the baby KAT into the nursery.
Click…click…click.
Safely inside, Giselle’s cold hands strolled gleefully up the stiffening spine then reappeared from under her shampoo-model-perfect hair. Sharp fingers traced a roguish path across her firm square shoulders. Teasingly, those dangerous fingers descended, pausing to enjoy the firming nipples, stimulating each with a forceful pinch as the lip-lock continued. MK felt someone else stiffening. They desperately needed air. Giselle’s hot breath filled the kitten’s lungs. It gave both a strange pleasure. One either was now powerless to stop.
“You want Dani…don’t you, kitten?” Giselle had lost her mommy. “Don’t ya, Kat?”
Satisfied by the kitten’s moaned response, the calculated cold-handed journey resumed. They were seeking pink treasure. Slowly, the right teased a distracting path along the elastic edge of the pink wall that protected the prize. Stymied, Miss Giselle’s eyes grew dark. The kitten grew weak. That cold left hand snuck around, chilling the small of Catherine’s back. It stroked the, soft, hot, vinyl, protecting, hotter, cotton. Yes, Dan’s slut was ready for her next lesson.
My perfume… Catherine’s mind was spinning. It’s Dani. Kiss her back. An instant of panic then, she did. MK’s left hand managed to slide down and latch onto Giselle’s seeking hand, halting its advance. It’s the love drug, Cat. You sure she’s drugged? Who cares, stupid, she won’t remember. It happened. Catherine’s lips parted.
Strangely, Catherine’s tongue and right hand also proved unwilling to aid in any defense. But MK needed to be sure. Her grip on Giselle’s left softened. Catherine’s hand commenced stroking Giselle’s as if to encourage, “Dani,” just do me.
An advanced tongue-dancing lesson progressed unabated for several minutes. As did Miss Giselle’s caressing of the kitten’s soft hot vinyl. It was only a warm-up. All too soon, the senior kitten’s delicate resolve slackened. A frenzy of lust pulsed within Miss Giselle’s twisted psyche. Suddenly, it all became so clear. Dan’s manipulating slut kitten needs to be taught a bloody lesson. The avenging right hand advanced in a flash. Down inside it went. Dan’s little whore is soaking wet. One forceful tug tore down, the slut’s armor. In a blink, the left was cocked and loaded. She withdrew the hungry tongue. Uncle Pete’s little princess was in need of a healthy dose of Blachmann passion. “Do you want it, baby?” Giselle’s breath was steamy hot. Her heart pounded, her eyes turned black then blind with rage.
Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!
“It’s Mistress Fucking Giselle! Understand?” She needs more. “Don’t ya, baby?”
Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!
Shocked back to her good senses, Catherine gasped, pulled free, gritted her teeth, then shouted, “Hey, what are you—” It was then she saw the true Giselle. Catherine knew that look. She’d seen it in the glass, that night with Vicky.
Giselle’s entire bean was aglow in sadistic bliss.
“That fuckin’ hurts you sadist bitch!” Shit! Thinking smarter, MK backed Catherine away and rubbed their stinging red bare bottom. Oh shit! Her eyes! Fuck me. She’s Mommy Fucking Dearest again. The vinyl… Baby—Catherine reached, grabbed, and pulled. Nice one, Cat. Back in the safety of the cotton and, the vinyl, MK reverted to full baby mode. “Mommy, that hurtsess baby!” Goo-fucking-goo. “Baby really-really sorrr-rryyyy.” She waited, hoping. Her back was hard against the door. “You’re way—more prettier than—” I’m so fucked. Catherine held her breath and cringed.
“That’s Mommy’s good little girl.” As if neither had transgressed, Giselle asked, “Would you like to put on a sexy big girl dress for dinner?”
Click…click…click.
What the fuck? She felt for the door. Open. MK’s courage blossomed. “No shit?” Shit. “I mean, yes, Mommy. Pweeeeezzzzz.” Brother…Wait!—Mommy Psycho called me a girl. I think she’s back to Mommy Lovey-dovey. “Mommy Gee, Baby’ss coldzzzz.”
“Yes, Mommy sees.” Giselle left, stepping into Miss Christi’s enormous closet. Actually, it was more like a room. The row of dressers and wardrobe cabinets seemed endless. She had already pre-staged the kitten’s ensemble for the evening’s dinner and more.
Feeling safe, Catherine peeked in and said, “But my tummy really hurts.” Noting their distance, she quickly removed her pink vinyl and heavy cotton panties in one swoop before kicking them high in the air, in the direction of the hamper. “Score!” She quickly reached for a new set.
Giselle popped from the doorway and held up the dress. “See, sweetie. Mommy G made you this today, for tonight’s special dinner.” She proudly displayed her latest creation. “But, if my baby doesn’t feel good…”
Catherine pointed to the other hand. “What’s that?” Fuck me. She’s like—a total kinky sadist bitch. MK knew exactly what that was. See ya later, Cat.
“What? This?” Giselle held up her other hand, displaying the oversized enema bag made of clear silicone rubber, complete with a hose and a large and sinister-looking inflatable nozzle. “This will make baby’s tummy all better.” Her grin grew as wide as the bag. “Holds a full gallon. Want Mommy to fill it?”
“No! Wait!”
“You’re sure you don’t want an enema, sweetie? Maybe just a little one? Only take a minute to get it ready. Mommy thinks her baby should.”
“Please, no. I’ll be a good girl.” She took hold of the dress. It was not babyish, not at all like the others she’d been forced to wear since arriving. This dress was trendy. A zippered wrap-style cocktail dress, fashioned from a shiny black satin. It had exposed shoulders and much to her relief, was cut just mid way above the knee. Finally! Something to hide these stupid vinyl panties.
Reluctantly, and against well-seasoned judgment, Giselle relented and ret
rieved a new Hush-Hush patent leather extreme lift push-up bustier from the dresser. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us for dinner?” She dangled the polished black bustier as if it were a treat. The eight attached garters danced before their eyes. “Prime rib with baked potatoes. Somebody’s favorite… Oh yeah, Mommy almost forgot. There’s a yummy dessert too!” She gave a rub to her tummy. “Well?… Which is it? This…or…?” Giselle pulled the bustier back and offered up the enema bag. Her preference was obvious.
Some choice. With this dress? That bustier? Yeah, I could hide behind a pair of perfectly presented boobs. She fondled the silk. Prime rib? Fuck me! How’d she know?
“But, if you want to stay in your crib?” Giselle held the bustier out. “Well? Do you?”
Leather. Eight garters. Fuck, that’s so hot. “I’m okay, Mommy.” Out went the arms, encouraging Giselle to fit her with the front zip bustier… “Yeah, I feel way better now.”
“Perfect fit. Like it?”
“Fuck yeah, I like it! Thanks, Mommy G.” She felt herself. The new bustier was the first piece of leather Catherine had worn since she arrived. “It’s freaking awesome. Do you like it on me? Did you make this too? Did you design this?”
“Someone’s excited. Yes, looks good, and no, I only made it. It’s one of Kristin’s new designs. She e-mailed me the sketch the other day from Paris. She was killing time while she waited for Miss Jane.”
“Super— I mean, Miss Jane lives in Paris?”
“No, sweetie. She lives in Monaco now. The countess was visiting her papa in Paris. She lives on her enchanted floating castle off the coast, near Cannes. She promised to let me come and visit later this summer. Come sit. Let mommy get these pretty stockings on you. The countess owns Hush-Hush. My baby has the longest and prettiest legs.”
“That tickles.”
“Miss Christi told Mommy, the countess met my pretty baby in New York. Remember? Hold still, silly.” Giselle fastened the next garter clip.
