by C. L. Black
“First, tell me dear; why did you choose to wear that outfit you had on when we met?”
“Because she—I like it. I—” Catherine held back, shifting her focus to the picture on the wall behind Miss Christi. “Who’s the fricken knight?” She pointed to the portrait. She tried her best to distract Miss Christi. Ten minutes passed in silence. She broke first with, “Miss Christi, may I please have some tea?” Another deflection, but it was the first time she had asked for anything during sharing. And, she did ask politely.
“I’ll get it, babe.” Danielle released her love grip and moved to prepare the tea. “Cream and sugar?” She poured, halting before Catherine’s late signal. “Two lumps?”
Four fingers tickled the air.
Miss Christi patted a spot on the sofa. “Please come sit, with me, my dear Miss Katrina.”
Danielle blended in three as Catherine—Katrina went to Miss Christi’s side. She placed the tea cup with saucer and tiny spoon on the end table to the right of the sofa then waited, offering an inviting pose. But it was too late.
“That will be all for now, Miss Wright.”
“Understood, Mum. I’m going below to see if I can get those P-O-S video sensors for the nursery working. They went out again, early this morning. Yours too, Mum.” She pointed to the golden Cinderella carriage music box centered on the mantle. “See ya around, babe.”
“Video!” blurted Catherine with a gasp as she remembered the concealed camera. We’re sooo busted.
“That’s affirmative,” said Danielle. “But they keep losing focus. I still say that subcontractor raped us.”
“Yes dear. Perhaps you can return the gesture one day.” Miss Christi glanced at the doors.
“Sorry Mum.” Her face aglow, Danielle headed off to the library, closing the pocket doors.
Alone at last. Catherine moved closer. As their sessions had progressed, she let go much of her baggage. Most of her teenaged aggression had faded. She’d begun to accept that at least for the next few weeks, maybe having no responsibilities wasn’t so bad. I don’t need to worry about my parents or that slut bitch politician. After all, none had done anything to help. They haven’t called or tried to visit, or helped me get out of this wacko place. What if they tried? Super-hot-bitch and the Enforcer—Yeah, “I’ll bet we could show that slut bitch—”
“Show Senator Winter what, dear?”
“Huh?” Catherine regained her focus, studied the wrinkles in Miss Christi’s forehead. Is she a mind reader too?
“Miss Katrina, please try to stay with me. Now tell me, my dear, why did you dress that way? Was it for her?”
“Because.” Catherine’s eyes went dark. MK knew damn well why. She liked her provocative edgy outfits, but was still reluctant to tell Miss Christi. Cat’s princess Natasha and that slut bitch senator loved to see me wearing flaming hot outfits. She looked at the raven-haired portrait that hung over the mantel and began, “I wanted to be seen as a sexy, dominate woman.” She pointed to the portrait. “Like her! The outfits are, kinda like, a way to do it. I guess. And when I got the boots—well, it’s like they had some magic power or something. I kinda got off on it.” MK went deep silent.
“When did you start dressing yourself that way, dear?”
“Huh, um, last fall, I guess. Yeah it was, like, after school started, I think.”
“Relax your other self, my dear.”
“I’m okay, I guess.” Catherine spoke with a somber tone. Her eyes grew heavy. “My mom said I looked like a little whore. You won’t tell her, will you?”
“I promise you this, kitten. I shall never disclose any of what you share with me in confidence.” Miss Christi placed her finger to her lips. “You know, I am the keeper of many important secrets. All very hush-hush, you know.”
Don’t tell her, Cat! “I kinda like, to show off. It’s like, a total turn on, getting, people, hot. But, like, you know, they can’t really have me. You know, they can look, but no one like, touches me—unless I say so.”
“Do you ever let the senator touch you?”
“No!” Catherine had to catch her breath. It felt the same as staying under three strokes too long. She sucked in deep and her eyes grew bright. “Only my princess.” She looked at the picture above Miss Christi and started to drift. Lost in a maze of disconnected thoughts, her head began to ache. She held it in her hands and closed her eyes. A moment later, MK was back in charge. “What about my mom’s one-armed fuck bitch?”
Miss Christi had made the connection she was seeking. “She told you the power of the boots?”
“What? Yeah, like, I guess so.” Catherine got up and checked the sewing room. No one. Her chest rose then fell and then rose again. MK lowered her voice. “It feels good when, you know, when I’m turning that rubber slut on, just standing there in those stiletto boots and—you know. Kinda like, like having sex without really doing it, I guess.”
“Relax yourself, my dear. You are always safe within these walls.” Miss Christi reached out, soothing Catherine’s arm, guiding MK back to the sofa. “You like to be in control, during sex?”
“Yes— No! What-the-fuck?” She shrugged then picked up the tea. “I don’t know, maybe.” Unsure in voice, she went on. “Well, yes, and no. I guess.” MK quickly emptied, Cat’s cup. It occupied a troubled soul, studying the soggy tea leaves that clung to the bottom. A minute passed. She fricken knows.
Miss Christi took hold of the distraction and placed it on the table. She hugged Catherine close and said, “Please explain, MK.”
A deep breath later, MK continued, “I mean…I don’t like…Promise you won’t laugh.”
“I promise you both, my dear.”
“I can’t, you know, make the first move. I just can’t! I’m like, wicked afraid to ask someone out, or kiss them first. You know? Anything. It totally sucks.” Catherine’s head hung. Her heart raced. The wall between them was crumbling. You tell her.
“But once someone makes their move on me”—MK picked Catherine’s head up off her rising chest and said, “Bam! That’s it! It’s like I become this whole other person. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m like, I’m—” Mistress Katrina. The cold grip of fear froze her lips stiff.
“Yes, dear? Who? Who do you become?”
MK pushed her other self to go on. “Some fu—a different person. Older too. I’m not afraid anymore. It’s weird. I start to want to do things too.” She looked away. “Weird things.”
“Please continue, dear.”
“I want to take them—” MK halted the session.
“Is this person male or female?”
Miss Christi’s words cut deep.
“Come now, dear; let’s stop this beating around the bush.”
“What?” She fricken knows that too? She looked at her crotch. Shit. Catherine covered herself.
“Not there, dear. In your head. Your inner self. Your alter? Is MK a girl, or boy?”
Her eyes popped. “She’s not sure!” I am too! MK pulled free and turned away, hiding behind her trusty mane, staring at the fire, wishing it would burn her eyes out. She felt the heat. The flames licked her. Her body was on fire. Her heart pounded, about to explode. Fuck it!
Sucking in deep, almost emptying the room of air, she shouted at the portrait, “I don’t fucking know what I am! I only know what I fucking want! I want to do bad things! Really bad shit! Why? Why am I so fucked up? That’s why my mom hates me, isn’t it? That’s why her picture is there.” She pointed to the portrait. “She fuckin’ hates me!”
Catherine returned to see Miss Christi still sitting there calm as ever, sipping her tea. Fearing the worst, she swung her head around and slammed her eyes shut. She couldn’t face herself.
“You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. What do you mean by bad things? Tell me exactly. What bad things do you like to do? And to whom do you want to do them?”
Catherine waited, straining with all she had to keep MK’s eyes shut tight. Her chest swelled, and swelled. Then
, nothing. She was locked, in a struggle with herself—her other self. The test of half-wills continued for some time.
Concerned, Miss Christi said, “Breathe. You’re not my first, my dear MK.”
Really? Well then! Fuck it! Here goes. “I like to spank them, mostly.” One eye opened.
“Still here.” Miss Christi hadn’t heard anything too concerning yet. “More tea, dear?”
More tea? Relieved, Catherine’s chest released. Once more and their lungs were filled to beyond capacity. As Miss Christi prepared two fresh cups they began to spew.
“Okay! There! I fucking said it! Happy now? I— I fucking like to spank girls. Shit! Sorry. Can’t help it. You know, like, on their ass! Girls? It gets me so hot. I make them suck my tits too. Girls? That always gets me so wet. Sometimes I even come. I love coming. Makes me feel so fucking, like, you know? Girls? When I, like, you know, that way. Sometimes. Well lately, lots of times, I just have to think about doing those things with, like, you know, I can make myself come. Girls? Fricken weird, isn’t it?” Their lungs were drained.
Catherine sighed, then sucked in the freshest breath she could ever remember taking. It tasted as sweet as their first time. Natasha… That was finally off her heaving chest. She picked up a shaky teacup. Using both hands, she sipped. She didn’t dare look at Miss Christi. Her courage had run dry. Looking into the tea, she wished she could jump in and hide under the thick layer of sweet tasty cream. Natasha… “My mom caught us doing it.”
Miss Christi sipped her tea a moment longer.
Did she fuckin’ hear you?
“No, my dear, you’re not weird. What if you enjoy what most sexologists refer to as alternative sexual stimulation? It’s no big deal, my dear kitten; at least, not in my book. And my book is pretty full. I take it then, you enjoyed our little theatrics Friday evening?”
I know, you said it. “Yeah. But what happened to Superbitch’s dyke—Sorry. Yeah me too; but Carol-Fucking-Darling sure seemed to like it.”
They all laughed.
“Miss Daniels? She’s fine, dear. You’re certainly not the only young person with a taste for something other than plain vanilla in their sex life.” Convinced, Miss Christi turned her focus to the portrait over the fireplace and thought: It truly is you, my love. Your body has been returned to this world once more, my Mistress. “Tell me my dear, does your Katherine like to kiss girls too?”
“Kiss? Oh yeah, she likes to kiss them too.” Natasha…
Better Find Her Soon
Pease International Tradeport, Portsmouth, New Hampshire (KPSM), 12:26 local
Samantha held tight and relayed what she’d discovered. The perfume Katrina had given her last Friday was laced with Compound L699. This batch had been formulated to match Senator Winter’s genetics exactly. Hers had been engineered to produce quick acting bouts of disassociation with anterograde amnesia. The duration was on the order of three to six hours. Katrina still couldn’t remember how it got into Jane’s bag as she parked Sam’s Red Z06 Corvette.
Samantha walked the restless KAT to her plane, and did as Pete instructed. “You better find her soon. Your old doll must be in pretty bad shape by now. If she quit the shit cold turkey she’ll come unglued, even suicidal.” Samantha handed over the small bottle containing the special brew Pete whipped up yesterday and said, “Give your doll six ccs, orally. Every nine hours. Understand?”
“Got it. Six and Nine. Check.” Katrina slipped the small brown bottle into Jane’s bag. “Thanks, Sam. I owe you one.”
“No! You owe me for two. Remember, you two have to get back here ASAP, or it will be too late. No matter what, get back here, only here. Understand?”
“Right. A—sap.”
They were at the plane.
“And, Sam, do keep this under wraps.” Katrina hugged their old friend. “Goodbye, Sam.”
Samantha spoke into Dame Jane’s ear. “Someone’s in love.”
She pulled free. “Bloody hell she is!”
“Bloody hell you are! More that you know, Jane Sterling. Hope their worth it. Got to get back. Your old Uncle Pete gave me a rag full of drool he needs analyzed ASAP. I put it aside to test your doll’s perfume.”
“Right, well. Cheers.” Drool…
Once onboard, she tried to contact Natasha. Number not in service. “Bloody hell!” She tried again. Pete. She saw the case—British… The Blachmann KAT sniffed…Latex.
Click… Click…
“Bloody—fuck me!”
KrumpKure
Unlike the minimal dosage of Compound L699 given to Senator Winter, the highly enriched cocktail of synthesized psychoactive drugs found in Catherine’s system had been blended for someone else—Katrina GoodKnight Blachmann.
Initial development work on the LSD-based compound was begun in the 1940s by Nazi scientists working to perfect it as a weapon. L699 was only one part in an extensive mind control program operating in a secret laboratory deep under the outskirts of Dresden. As the Nazis’ end neared, the laboratory, its scientists, their data, and several test subjects were captured by the Soviets. The project was immediately placed under a joint Stasi/KGB team and folded into the unacknowledged KAT program.
By the mid eighties, these scientists had perfected the drug’s protocol, making it programmable based on a recipient’s DNA and body mass. When the Wall was torn down in November of 1989, the Soviets immediately pulled their funding and left the whole toxic mess to rot in the first cold winter of the former East Germany’s new freedom. But it was not to be.
In January of 1990 the scientists were all hired by the newly established Biotech startup called KrumpKure GmbH. A mysterious individual named Krump had secretly purchased them, the building in Dresden, and their research from the Soviet’s GDR puppets. It was to be only the first of many such Krump investments in the former Eastern Bloc. Krump was quick to retask the team of scientists. Their new mission was to heal the minds of those harmed by the Breeder’s previous successes. No expense was to be spared.
Over the two decades since, KrumpKure’s R & D labs developed several new generations of Benzodiazepine-derived psychoactive drugs. KrumpKure grew at a rapid pace to become the established market leader throughout Eastern Europe and Western and Central Asia. This was mostly due to their much lower pricing than similar Western drugs. The bribing of corrupt government officials in many of the newly independent ex-Soviet states did certainly help. Now nearly every upper-class housewife across the old Soviet republics, Iran, and, most recently, North Korea, trusted the KrumpKure label. This year’s sales were expected to top 60 billion euros. KrumpKure had become Krump Industries largest profit center by far.
Someone inside KrumpKure was running an off-book R & D project. They were able to produce specific behaviors when properly matched to the recipient’s DNA. It was clear that someone was using Hush-Hush’s new fragrance Wet as a delivery system for the most powerful mind-altering sex control drug ever developed. Soon every woman in the free world would be aching for a dose of Wet—due to go on sale in three weeks. If word of this unfortunate affair ever reached the media, Krump’s entire Empire would come crashing down. Hopefully, Catherine would make a full recovery. Given Katrina’s situation, that was now a most unlikely outcome.
Dr. Resnik had explained it all to her employer months ago. There might be side effects. One consequence was that the high dose of hormones would keep her extremely sexually aroused. Especially the nipples, but it couldn’t be helped. Compound L699 had some other, very nasty side effects. It was highly addictive but worse yet—prolonged use caused progressively greater disassociation, anterograde amnesia, leading to schizophrenia, irreparable brain damage, and ultimately suicide. Like the good doctor said, Turns your brain into Swiss cheese. Very bad shit. Makes good girls do bad things.
Back at the Castle, Miss Braun was preparing a peanut butter sandwich, making sure to cut off all the crust. Maria happily filled Catherine’s sippy-cup with the special concoction the doctor had brewed. It di
d more than help grow strong bones. The cocktail of mommy milk, cream, sugar, anti-psychedelic drugs, and synthetic endorphins also contained several hormones. It needed constant adjusting, but would allow Catherine a chance for a full recovery. The anti-psychedelics were to counter potential brain damage and the hormones were to help wean her from the addictive nature of Compound L699. Mainly the mixture reduced anxiety and helped her to sleep. Brain trauma healed best without stress and plenty of sleep. The last thing someone needed after taking L699 was any stimulation.
Catherine’s natural hormones were still way out of whack. She desperately craved stimulation. The wildly mismatched dosing of Katrina’s L699 combined with Natasha’s nipple sucking over the last few months had caused large amounts of oxytocin and other endorphins to be released. It all combined to make her overly trusting and dramatically boosted her need for orgasm—a potential problem, but that couldn’t be helped. It was better that she masturbated several times a day than die from a brain hemorrhage. Dr. Resnik had explained it all to Pete, Kate, the Senator and Mum early Sunday morning. The fantasies were just nature’s way of healing. Not that there was much else to do alone with herself in that crib, except for when she received her secret visitor.
Six and Nine’s Reunion
On board N699BA, departing Runway 16 at KPSM, 12:55 local
Katrina felt the gear. Retracting… Jane held her breath. Still climbing… Katrina sighed then picked up the iPhone and authenticated. “Six and Nine.” She read the Council Action Order (CAO). Was it legit? She wasn’t going to be made the fool again. Katrina opened the second, larger case. Everything was there including, Papa’s boots. A third case… She opened it. G’s Big-boy… What in the—bloody hell!
The cockpit partition opened. The jet bucked and so did her kitten. It’s legit.
“Hey, baby. Want to go for a ride with Papa?” Captain Schumacher entered. This time she wasn’t concealing her face. “Better sit, Elsa warned to expect a few bumps.”
