Story - Sisters of the Heart III - 'Til the Last Beat of My by Shadowkeeper

[center][u:1oqzjsqu][b:1oqzjsqu][size=14pt]Sisters of the Heart III ‘Til the Last Beat of My Heart

By Shadowkeeper

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[u:1oqzjsqu][size=12pt]Part One – Turn to Stone[/size][/u:1oqzjsqu][/center]

[size=12pt]“Miss Thompson. Miss Thompson. Vicky, can you understand me?”

Everything is fuzzy, my senses, my thoughts, my memory. I have no idea at all who is talking to me, or why. My tongue feels thick and unresponsive when I try to respond. “Whasgoinon?” My throat feels raw as I force the air through it. “Wheremi?”

Someone sets a straw at my lips and I suck in cool water enthusiastically. “You’re in a private hospital Miss Thompson. What do you remember?”

I can feel my brow furrowing as I try to dredge up some recollection of what came before this. “Christmas…Bets gone…alone…sad…then Brad…job with suit…then call…nice offer…went to do shoot…Brad didn’t want…came anyway…they – they tied him up…hung me, hurt me…then Bets…trying to save me…something wrong with her…she fell…she was on the ground, so pale, she wasn’t moving - OH NO, Bets!” My eyes fly open wide in panic as I struggle to sit up, my heart pounding and energy flowing into me. Hands grab my arms and hold me down as I stare wildly around. “Where’s my sister, where’s Bets? Bets! BETS!”

A familiar face appears; it’s my agent, Brad. “Vicky, VICKY! Calm down and I’ll explain everything.”

I stop struggling, but I’m tense, waiting for an excuse to go ape-shit. “Where’s Elizabeth Brad, I don’t care about anything else, just tell me that she’s okay.”

He covers his eyes for a moment and takes a deep, shuddering breath, and I know that something is very, very wrong with my sister; Brad is best friends with her, and this reaction is a bad sign. “She’s in surgery right now Vicky…we don’t really know much yet.”

I try to sit up again, and Brad motions for me to be allowed. I wait for my head to stop spinning, and then I’m staring into his eyes, trying to see how bad it is. “Surgery? What kind of…what’s wrong with her?”

He’s fighting back tears now…oh god. “Her-her heart collapsed. Something happened before she came for us, and it was damaged, and then she pushed herself too hard and…” He sits down on the bed next to me as I fall back, the wind knocked out of me. “They had a donor available, they’re taking care of it…don’t worry, she’ll be fine…” I don’t believe him.

I close my eyes, close out the world, and feel it breaking into pieces around me. I can’t lose my Bets, I just can’t. She’s the center of my universe, the love of my life…if only I had been brave enough to tell her that before…

I always worshipped Elizabeth, my Bets, placing her on a pedestal, or a shining white horse, as if she were a knight out to rescue me. Growing up, she always acted as my protector and mentor. When I had to have speech therapy in kindergarten, she rallied my other sisters to help me. When I got glasses in fifth grade and the bullying started, she ended it, even though she was so much smaller than they were.

She was the one who helped me through puberty, teaching me how to pleasure myself, how to deal with pushy boys, and most of all, to see my own beauty in the midst of my awkwardness. That was when I first fell in love with her, really in love. I started to imagine that someday we would move out together, get a house of our own, share a bed, and maybe even adopt some little girls. I knew that it was impossible of course, but that didn’t stop what I was feeling – if anything, it made it that much more powerful.

I didn’t let my obsession keep me from dating; in fact, there was never any shortage of jock and prep boys, or older men, who wanted a pretty decoration on their arm, nor did I have any problems finding girls on my squad looking for something a little more subtle than what the Neanderthals were offering. Nonetheless, I was saving myself for that one impossible day when my Bets would make me hers.

Things only got more intense when Bets turned eighteen and started fetish modeling. She would come home with copies of the photos, proudly showing them off to me, and her twin, Kate, and I would find ways of getting my hands on some of them. For hours every night, I masturbated to them, imagining that she had tied me up to play nasty, wicked games with me, or was leading me around naked by a leash and calling me her slave.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Bets was so proud of my perfect grades and my cheerleading, I probably would have let them slide in my distraction with her, especially when Kate went off to a college far away; instead I attacked school and cheering like my life depended on it – her approval was all to me.

Things had been going so good for me this year; head of the cheer squad, shoe in for Valedictorian, turning eighteen so that I could start to model with my beloved, and most of all, just being able to spend time with her, all to myself. And now this…

I must have fallen asleep. When I open my eyes, the light is dim. I debate just laying back and wallowing, but then I think of my Bets being all alone, and I muster the strength of will to try to get out of bed.

As I sit up, I see a huge dark shape sitting in a chair nearby, and I have to stifle a scream. The shape resolves itself into a truly massive man as he swiftly stands and steadies me with a giant, surprisingly gentle hand. “You should be careful, being hung like you were is nothing to laugh at.” His voice is deep and calm, and it soothes me just a little.

I shake my head at him and slide off of the bed with his assistance. “I’ll be fine. I just want to see my sister.”

I’m expecting him to try to stop me, so when he just nods and starts to lead me out of the room, I’m more than a little taken aback. “Who are you, anyway?”

He puts an arm around me to lend me more support. “More like who will I be.” I just stare at him, totally lost. “I’m going to be your brother in law Vicky. The name is Max, by the way…” He’s trying to smile, but it’s fading as my body stiffens and my fists clench.

Ice starts to run through my veins; I can hear his sincerity, but I can’t let myself believe him, it just hurts too much. His eyes are studying mine, looking for approval, as I give him my coldest glare. My voice comes out brittle, much more bitter sounding than I want it to. “If you’re lying to me, I’m going to kill you…”[/size]

[center] [u:1oqzjsqu][size=12pt]Part Two – Switch[/size][/u:1oqzjsqu][/center]

[size=12pt]“You guys look like shit.” Those words are coming from a devilishly handsome man standing in the doorway to my sister’s hospital room. Brad is standing next to him, face filled with concern and, oddly, excitement.

At the sound of the voice I glance up with a detached look, and then turn to my companion in misery. Max looks back at me for a moment, his expression unfathomable, and then turns to our uninvited guests. “Good, then we look like we feel. Gonna pay your respects Jack, or do I have to kick you out?” As much as I try not to deal with the man despite our enforced closeness, I’m really happy that he’s here at this moment. I’m really not in a people-person mode right now.

While Max deals with the men intruding upon our little broken world, I go back to what I was doing: holding my sister’s tiny left hand and stroking her short hair while I sing her a soothing nonsense song, looking over her pale, frail little body and searching for the millionth time for some sign of life other than what the machines are providing. Max has claim on Elizabeth’s left hand, and even as he is holding conversation he is studying her charts, looking for some clue as to what is going on inside her inaccessible mind.

Handsome guy – Jack, strides over to Max and grips his shoulder in a companionable manner, and then leans over Elizabeth and gives her a soft, surprisingly fatherly kiss on the forehead. He turns back to Max, but keeps glancing at me, trying to include me in his dialogue. “Look, guys, this isn’t doing her any good, and it’s certainly doing you harm. You’ve been cooped up in this room twenty-four-seven for a month now. You need to take a break, both of you.”

Max looks more than a little irritated. “Jack, you really don’t want to be getting in the way of either of us right now – seriously, if I don’t kill you for it, Vicky sure as hell will.”

Max and I are both startled as Jack lets out a little chuckle, the last thing either of us are expecting. “Funny you should mention that Max…Vicky killing, that is…” Both of us are giving the man sharp looks. “Max, she’s a loose end sitting on Club grounds, just like Brad would have been if you hadn’t sent him to me; that makes her a liability in the Club’s eyes, and makes it very likely that she’ll never leave here alive. Now, I don’t have a job opening for her, at least, not any that you would approve of, but I do think that I can manage to get her a relative’s membership through you – if…”

Max starts to growl like an angry bear. “No! If Elizabeth knew what you wanted her little sister to do-“

Jack holds up his hand and raises his voice, all the while maintaining his unnerving calm. “She’d agree; you know she wouldn’t want the other option. Now Brad and my daughter Melody are scheduled to have their initiations today, and I think it would be a good idea to make it a three-for-one, so they can offer each other moral support”

Now it’s my turn to hold up my hand. “Hold up there boys, time out, the little lady being discussed here might like to be involved in whatever this decision happens to be, and she’d really like to be talked to about it directly…”

Jack gives me a rakish grin, and I can feel myself blushing, an effect that not many men have ever been able to achieve with me. “Yes, good idea; we’ll make it your call.” Max tries to protest again and is immediately talked down. “Buddy, she’s an adult, she can make her own decisions, and more importantly, she needs to go into this with open eyes.”

He turns to me and continues. “Honey, your sister’s been running with the wolves. She recently became a member of a network of clubs that Max and I are a part of. These are to BDSM clubs what a hoagie is to a bologna sandwich. We, and soon Brad as well, are involved in a lot of activities that are more than a little frowned upon by society. We keep women as sex-slaves; we torture them, mutilate them, kill them and even eat them, all for the amusement of our members. Are you following me so far?”

I’ve gone a little glassy eyed, and more than a little pale by this point. The whole idea is ludicrous, and yet I can see the confirmation in Max’s eyes, and I’m remembering the stories that Elizabeth used to write – stories that make all of this sound more than a little familiar. I take a deep breath, and ask the only question that’s important to me. “My sister…did she…?”

Brad finally pipes up. “She’s killed two girls Vicky, enjoyed it too, and then there was that guy at the barn that she castrated - the hard way. I saw the videos of the first two, and the guy’s body first hand…there’s no doubt about it.”

I realize that my mouth is hanging open and close it with a sharp click of teeth, and then turn to look once more at my sister lying there looking so sweet and vulnerable. It’s an image that is hard to reconcile with what I’ve just been told, and yet there are her stories, and my fantasies about her over the last year…I’m starting to picture it in my mind, my little Bets snuffing the life out of some pair of faceless bimbos, and I can feel my pussy juicing up as I start to feel more than a little jealous of those girls.

Something about this discussion strikes me as odd. “Brad, you’re the nicest guy I know, and Elizabeth is your best friend in the world…how can you be telling me all of this so calmly?”

He actually smirks at me. “Come on Vicky, I work with all sorts of fetish models and clients, some of which are pretty close to this extreme, if not at the same level, unofficially; do you really think that career choice was a coincidence? I wouldn’t have lasted two weeks if I didn’t get off on this shit, and I’ve known for awhile about Elizabeth’s taste for the extreme.” The smirk fades into Brad’s more typical friendly smile. “Besides, I’ve had a month to come to terms with all of this; I was offered employment right after we were rescued, and Jack here has been bringing me up to speed. That’s why we haven’t really been around much.”

To be honest, I’ve been too wrapped up in my own little numb cocoon of pre-emptive mourning to have actually noticed whether anyone visited much or not, but I’m not about to mention that. “Okay, so you’re, what, staff or whatever, and I’m supposed to become some kind of second class member of these clubs…so what’s this about an initiation?”

Brad is looking a little hyper and nervous, so his mentor steps back up to the plate. “Put it this way…we have two ways of making sure that none of this gets out. First off, we keep tabs on staff and member families, and if there are any problems…well, you can guess. The other precaution we take is to record each person in the Club killing at least one person, that way they know that we have proof of their complicity…not to mention, once you’ve taken that step, there really is no going back.”

I close my eyes and search for any hint of revulsion towards what I know they want me to do. Nothing. “So you want me to kill someone. What’s that alternative you mentioned earlier?”

Now Max finally speaks up, sounding uncomfortable and sad. “Kate. You’ll wind up like your sister Kate.”

I open my eyes and glare at him, finally having a legitimate reason to unleash the resentment I’ve been feeling towards him. “You told me she died with her roommates in an explosion. You lied to me…she was murdered by you people, wasn’t she?” I’m feeling a renewal of the initial grief and guilty relief that had hit me when I originally received news of poor Kate’s demise, and it’s not making me any friendlier.

Max is looking a little hunted; honestly, the idea of this huge guy being intimidated by me is more than a little amusing. “Please believe me, I really wanted to save her, I honestly tried, but she ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time and…”

My voice is cold and hard. “I’m going to take that out of your hide someday. Maybe I’ll even kill you. But for now I think that I already have someone else on my plate.” I nod my acceptance of the situation to Jack and Brad.

Jack gives me that little chuckle again. “Funny you should put it that way…”[/size]

[center][u:1oqzjsqu][size=12pt]Part Three – Shadowtime[/size][/u:1oqzjsqu][/center]

[size=12pt]“Brad, I’m not sure that I like the idea of the rest of my sisters being tied into all of this.”

My former agent grimaces. “Yeah, I know what you mean. If anything happens to mine because of me…” He turns back to the laptop that we’re sharing, scrolling through clothing options.

We’re in a private jet, flying back to Max and Jack’s home Club. I have no idea if we’re over land or sea right now; the windows are all closed and locked shut, so that we can’t guess where we’re coming from. Not being able to see out is making me nervous, so I go back to the task at hand.

Brad is helping me to come up with an outfit to wear during our shared initiation – I can’t exactly go back home for a change of clothes, since it still hasn’t been decided whether or not my family should know that Elizabeth and I are alive.

Apparently the Club has a vast assortment of clothing on hand for members, staff and slaves alike, and any outfit can be ordered up ahead of time through an innocuous web site – if you have the right password of course. Brad suggested that I deck myself out in vinyl so that any fluids that get on me won’t ruin the clothes, and he has a lot more experience with that stuff than I do – really, how do you think my parents would have reacted if I started bringing fetish wear into the house – so I’m having him handle it for the most part.

I’m still not occupied enough, so I decide to distract us both a bit with a little Q & A. “Brad, you said that one of the girls that Elizabeth snuffed was Jack’s oldest daughter, and he helped, and it was all because she stuck her nose into Club business, right?” Distracted nod. “Okay, so what’s up with him having his other daughter initiated with us?”

Brad’s avoiding eye contact, and he’s blushing. Interesting. “Well, if she’s a member, and knows to keep her mouth shut, he won’t have to worry about history repeating itself…she’s his little angel, a total daddy’s girl, so he really doesn’t want to lose her. Besides, with me hanging around his house so much, it was better this way…”

When we land at the Club’s private airstrip and are met at the nearest entrance to the main building by Melody, Jack’s daughter, her first actions pretty well tell me what Brad wouldn’t; she runs up squealing like a little girl and one at a time throws herself at her father and Brad and gives them some very thorough kisses – strictly X-rated stuff, no church tongue here.

If Melody’s little show with the two men isn’t enough to raise an eyebrow, her appearance certainly is. Even though the guys had informed me that the Club has a strict eighteen-plus rule for members of any kind, I swear that girl looks a lot younger. Maybe it’s a side effect of how petit she is – even smaller than my Elizabeth – and the girlish energy that she’s exuding; it certainly could be due to the sexy little schoolgirl outfit that she’s wearing, and the fact that her golden hair is braided into the most precious looking pair of pigtails. God, I don’t even want to know what’s going through the guys’ heads right now; even I’m feeling an urge to just take this girl to the floor and ravage her right here.

Melody’s voice is just as mouthwatering and seemingly forbidden as the rest of her as she finally stops her little dual make-out session and turns to give me an unexpected hug. “Hi there! You must be Vicky; it’s so nice to finally meet you after all the stories I’ve heard about you and your sister! Oh, yeah, I’m Melody, Jack’s daughter! Anyway, welcome to Club Shadowlands!” It’s a good thing this girl exudes niceness, because otherwise I’m pretty sure her bubbly delivery would have had me gritting my teeth by the end of that.

I really don’t want to think about what this girl is doing to me right now, so I decide to go with my curiosity instead. “So is that just the name of this Club in particular or…”

Max speaks up from behind me. “Each location has its own name. The one we were at before is called The Eyre. This is my home Club, and Jack’s, so this is where we have to do this…speaking of which, we’re running behind. Follow me.” He’s pretty gruff, and I really hate the fact that he’s so anxious to get back to Elizabeth; the more he demonstrates his devotion to her, the harder it is for me to despise him.

As Max leads the way, the little nymph takes hold of her father’s arm and starts babbling away, so I stay at the back of the line with Brad. “So, you and your boss’ daughter huh? You sly dog…sure you’re not robbing the cradle there?”

Wow is he blushing. “Hey, she really is of age, I swear…and yeah, we’ve, umm, well yeah. But I swear, I didn’t start it, really!”

I laugh and pat his arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I can tell she’s the kind that gets what she wants…which apparently includes daddy, if I’m not mistaken.” Yep, he’s really uncomfortable now, poor guy. “So, is she into girls?”

We’re led into a changing room, where my outfit and an older couple in expensive suits are waiting for us. Both are attractive in a rather severe way, and in their forties. The woman seems to be in charge as she starts talking with a sexy yet business-like British accent. “You just made it, I was about to send someone to go find you. You three get yourselves ready please. Jack, go get the cameras ready. Max, you have a set of packages to pick up in the holding area; please go get them now so that we can discuss arrangements for them.” Her commands are rapid-fire and forceful, and brook no argument; before I know it I’m stripping off and heading for my new attire.

Max and Jack exit the room while I finish getting naked; Brad is trying to get his clothes off as well, but Melody, still fully clothed, is trying to help him and is just making things take longer. By the time the pair is finished, I’m sliding on my black vinyl catsuit, albeit with difficulty. I’ve only worn a few of these before, and those were all at the same photo shoot, so I’m having a bit of a problem, until the other two run up and start to help me; apparently Brad is going in naked, and Melody isn’t concerned with ruining her little uniform.

Finally my catsuit and its matching corset and thigh high platform boots are in place and laced up as appropriate; I give Brad an evil look – I wasn’t expecting him to go all out on the outfit. This entire time, the couple has been watching us impassively, studying us like insects in a collection.

The woman looks at her watch, and then opens the same door that Jack went through, ushering us through before her. We enter a huge chamber that is filled with bondage, torture and pure execution equipment. Jack is sitting in an open cotrol booth that apparently controls the multitude of cameras that are hanging from tracks on the ceiling, and near him are three bound and hooded young women.

The commanding woman directs our attention to her. “Initiates, it is now six o’clock in the evening. You have until midnight to play with your toy and finish her off. If she is still alive at that time, we will execute you ourselves; I suggest that you keep an eye on the clock. You may assist each other as you like, but you must be the one to finish off your designated toy. Each one has been selected specifically for you; you will know which is yours when the hoods are off.” A chill runs up my spine when she says that – I’ve got a very bad feeling about this. “We will be in an observation room; if you need anything just ask Jack. You may begin now.”

As the woman leaves, I step over to our ‘toys’ and look them over, filled with apprehension. One of them has a familiar butterfly tattoo on her ankle; filled with dread, I reach down, pull her hood off, and gasp in shock. Staring back at me with confusion is Sasha Lewis, one of the best cheerleaders on my squad, and one of the best shags I’ve ever had. She’s pleading with me with her eyes and trying to say something through her ball-gag as I kneel before her and stroke her long blond hair lovingly. “Oh Sash, I’m so sorry about this. I wish I could tell you that I’m going to make this easy for you, but you’re too good of a friend for me to lie to you…”[/size]

[center][u:1oqzjsqu][size=12pt]Part Four – Hand Around the Killing Jar[/size][/u:1oqzjsqu][/center]

[size=12pt]“Drink it you little bitch! Pretend it’s your favorite flavor of cool-aid and drink it!”

I glance up from my work on Sasha’s straining body and look to see what Melody’s up to now. She has her tall, red-headed toy in some sort of stretching machine, and is sitting on the suffering girl’s face with her skirt up; she’s going commando, and I have no doubts about what the poor thing is being asked to drink. Melody had started out quite devastated at the identity of her slave; I haven’t caught the name of the girl, but she seems to be a close friend or lover, judging by the reaction. Apparently Melody has decided to get over her qualms about snuffing a friend by totally dehumanizing her; almost all of the things she’s done so far have been focused on degradation and humiliation.

I’m not really a big fan of water sports, so I look over at Brad to see that he’s finally finished literally nailing his slave to a St. Andrew’s cross, and is currently energetically nailing her in a more mundane manner. He hasn’t seemed too distressed by his task for the night, though he did apologize to her when we first started, and promised to make her big fantasy come true; I’m assuming that she is, or was, one of the models that he represents. If this is part of her fantasy, I hope that it’s all she hoped for, because it looks pretty painful to me.

Speaking of painful, I look back to my own work, and examine what I’ve done so far with a critical eye. In most ways I make an okay top, but I’m a lousy sadist; almost all of my fantasies that involve pain feature me as the one who is suffering. I haven’t really done a whole lot to Sasha up to this point, other than trying out some of the more interesting clamps and electrical toys to see how I might react if they are ever used on me. Now however, I’m preparing her for some real suffering; I feel comfortable with this because it’s for a greater purpose.

Sasha is sitting upright on a bench with two very large metal dildos holding her lower body in place. Her front is being pressed firmly up against a vertical assembly by a strap around her back, and her arms are behind her, held together by a single sleeve glove and being lifted painfully high by a rope around her wrists; this has the effect of forcing her chest even further forward. Her full, firm tits have been squeezed and pulled through a pair of holes that have adjustable metal straps that wrap around the base of the breasts; I tightened those straps mercilessly just a moment ago, and already Sasha’s now balloon-like tits are turning purple. While my attention has been away from her, my toy has been staring straight up at the heavy, gleaming blade that is hanging at the top of the assembly.

Sasha’s gag is still in, so the only way that she can communicate her suffering and fear to me is through her wide, tear-filled eyes. I look back into them, studying her reaction as I slowly shove fishhooks through each of her puffy nipples, and then I turn my full attention to tying wires to the eyelets of the hooks. As I work, I direct my voice to the nearest microphone, which just so happens to be right by my victim’s head. “Hey Jack, since you said that she’s gonna be cooked up later anyway, can I get her tits done up for us now?” As my former friend and lover hears for the first time what we ultimately have in mind for her, she starts to violently struggle and scream into her gag.

Jack’s voice comes back to me from a speaker that I hadn’t even noticed. “I just told the kitchen to send someone up with a portable grill…so you know kiddo, those are not really a light repast…better ask one of the others if they want to contribute something a little more healthy to have with them.”

I smile down at Sasha and stroke her hair until she calms down a little, and then I turn on the vibrate function on her dildos, making her squeal delightfully in surprise. “Sorry about this baby, but since the moment they grabbed you, all you have been is meat. The sooner you come to terms with that the better. Now, I still love who you were, even though you’re not that person anymore, so I’m giving you a chance to have a little last pleasure. You’ve got until the grill gets here to let those dildos do their work, so I suggest you just settle down and enjoy. See you in a little while honey…”

Leaving my toy to her own devices, so to speak, I make my way over to Brad; his slave is a lot cleaner right now. I reach him just as he reaches a climax inside of the long limbed former model; from her expression and attempted motions I think she’s cumming right along with him.

I wait while Brad forcefully kisses the girl and gets his breath back, and then I tap him on the shoulder. “Hey there, I’m about to put some tities on for a midnight snack; you want to contribute something with a little more meat?”

The young woman responds before he can, her voice husky with passion. “My belly, take some from there and let my guts slide out…you know it’s how I want to go Brad, do it.” Wow, this chick is pretty hard-core; I wonder if she’s one of Elizabeth’s friends, maybe she got it from there.

Ever the gentleman, Brad immediately moves away to get the proper tools so that he can grant her wish. While he does that, I reluctantly turn my attention to Melody. She seems to be done with degrading her former friend, and has moved her to a large, solid chair. The redhead is cuffed at the wrists and ankles to the arms and legs of the thing, and Melody has threaded some smooth silk rope through a hole in the back of the chair, across the slave’s throat, and through a hole next to the first one. Melody is humming softly to herself as she ties the ends of the rope around a long wooden dowel, following some instructions written on the back of the chair.

After glancing at my own slave to see that she has given in and is starting to squirm a bit within her bonds, I turn my attention back to the St. Andrew’s cross as Brad wheels a cart up to it. On the cart are several specialized looking knives, all being heated on a long hot plate. As the first blade gets a nice orange glow to it, Brad picks it up and moves over to the former model. She closes her eyes and thrusts her toned belly out for her agent, and he takes her up on the invitation after a moment’s hesitation, slicing a shallow cut across the top, just beneath her diaphragm.

I have to give the girl kudos, she doesn’t scream as she is simultaneously cut and burned; she just grits her teeth and moans a bit. Those moans do grow louder though, as Brad carefully deepens the cut until we can see that the muscles protecting her guts are cut completely through. More confident now, Brad picks up a fresh knife and repeats the cut, again horizontal, but this time crossing just above her pubic mound.

Grunts and groans are joining the chorus of moans now, as tears start to trickle out of the girl’s eyes. I wonder for a moment if she’s regretting her cooperation with us, but then I see her pained smile as the second cut is finished, and notice that she’s starting to roll her hips; this bitch is a total painslut, way beyond anything I’ve even heard of.

Brad is just starting on the really hard part, working his way down each side and slowly peeling the slab of meat and skin away from the gut sack beneath, when a man in a chef’s hat arrives with a huge portable grill assembly that has just about everything we could need stored in it.

Leaving Brad to finish his chore, I run over to Sasha, who is just in the process of quivering through an intense orgasm. The timing is perfect; she won’t know what’s coming until it’s already done. I grab the wires attached to her nipples, and then I pull a chord, and suddenly the blade above her is released. There’s a short sound of sliding metal, followed by a solid thunk as the blade finds its home, passing through Sasha’s breasts effortlessly on the way. I give the wires a tug, and suddenly I am holding a perfect pair of severed breasts. Sasha just stares at me all bug eyed, too shocked to make a sound, as blood starts to pour down from her suddenly flat chest.

I run my prizes over to the grill just as their former owner starts in with a devastated wailing, and I almost miss the surreal wet slurping sound of Brad’s slave finally losing her guts. Brad is walking over to me with the girl’s perfectly intact belly slab, leaving her alone to contemplate the sight of her internal organs hanging down from her in a wet tangle.

The chef gets started in immediately, and we turn to contemplate our victims. The model’s head is slumped forward, but I can’t tell if it’s because she’s weakening, or just her looking down at the ruin of her body. Sasha’s offering a lot more entertainment, thrashing within her bonds and crying out ‘why’ over and over at the top of her lungs.

I turn to Brad. “So, there’s less than an hour left; do we let them expire on their own, or…”

He shrugs. “I don’t know if that’ll count, and I don’t want to chance it, so I think I’ll take care of her in a moment. You?”

In answer, I walk over to a rack of axes and grab one that seems to be of a manageable weight. “You wanna get her over to that block over there and strap her in? I need to practice for a moment here.”

By the time that I’m confident in my swing, poor Sasha’s not moving very much, she’s just lost too much blood. She’s making little mewing sounds, and when I look into her eyes they’re glassy and unfocused. I don’t think she even notices when I take her head off.

After cleaning the blood from my glasses, I grab my former lover’s head by the hair and make my way over to where Brad is reaching into the model’s body cavity. By the time I get there, Brad is holding something in his hand in front of the girl’s fascinated but quickly fading gaze. It’s her heart, still beating at first, but swiftly going still. The girl’s head slowly droops for the last time as Brad turns to me, covered in gore and sporting a raging hard on. “I’ve always wanted to do that. Never imagined I’d get a chance to…you know the illustrations in the history books never show how messy it is…”

“Yeah, you stay away from me until you hose off buddy.” Before I can say anything about his woody, a commotion from Melody’s direction catches our attention.

The red-head’s arms and legs are no longer restrained, but she’s not even close to free as the rope around her neck has been tightened to completely block her air. The dowel has been locked in place, and Melody is between the girl’s thighs, going to town on her pussy as those long, slender legs kick out and spasm to either side of her head; in the slave’s futile efforts to free herself, she is thrusting her hips right up into her executioner’s waiting mouth.

As Brad and I make our way over, the purple faced girl’s struggles start to slow, until a shudder runs up her body and she falls still. A second later and Melody jerks back sputtering, and it’s really hard for me to resist congratulating her on her recycling efforts as I see the pee leaking from the dead girl’s body.

Melody gets a hold of herself as we reach her, gets a look at Brad wearing nothing but blood, a hard on and a smile, and me dangling a girl’s head by the hair, and then looks down at her own piss soaked blouse, and laughs somewhat hysterically. I know where she’s coming from, I’m starting to have some weird reactions to what I’ve seen and done tonight myself.

The little minx steps up and gives us each a long sloppy kiss, smearing blood on her clothes, and then takes us by the hands. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up, and then we can get a bite to eat before I fuck you both…”[/size]

[center][u:1oqzjsqu][size=12pt]Part Five – Softly[/size][/u:1oqzjsqu][/center]

[size=12pt]“Vicky, are you awake?”

I’m staring at the ceiling, listening to the ever so sublime Nora Jones, and wondering whether I should be worried about my sanity, when I feel someone crawling onto my borrowed bed, and I hear Melody’s voice. I’m about to respond with a sarcastic quip, when the shakiness of the girl’s voice registers; I hold off on my reply and sit up to get a look at her. Melody is still in the pink baby-doll that she had put on for the little romp we three initiates had started as soon as we were dropped off here at Jack’s house. She’s crouched at my feet, arms wrapped around her knees, and her blue eyes are like saucers, shining in the dim light with unshed tears.

An overwhelming protective urge sweeps over me, and I open my arms to her. Melody crawls up onto my lap, and I envelope the small girl in my arms as she curls up and starts to sniffle. I start to rock her and stroke her hair softly. “Shhh, what is it baby?”

She snuggles her face into my bosom and I can barely make out her muffled voice. “I thought I was ready…I insisted that I was…oh god, I wasn’t ready…not for that…not for her…” God, what is it about this woman-child…I barely know her and it’s breaking my heart to see her like this. I find myself tightening my hug without even meaning to as she looks up at me with those big, weepy eyes. “She was my-my first love…we grew up together, and…well, when we got older…Karen…she was the first person I made love to…she moved away last year…haven’t seen her til…what have I done…how could I have done that to her?”

I’m lightly kissing her face, just little pecks to comfort her. “Shhh, it’s okay; you did what you had to do…she was going to die anyway…”

“But-but the things that I did…I was so cruel…and I was having fun too…I’m a horrible person!”

She’s trying to hide her face again. I put my hands to the sides of her face and gently make her look up at me. “Melody, listen to me. You had to find a way to kill her, right?” She nods reluctantly. “My girl was a lover and friend as well, but I had an advantage that you didn’t…I was already numb inside because of Elizabeth…you had to find a way to get that kind of distance too, and you did. You made yourself think of her as a thing, not a person, right?” Another nod. “Baby, you are one of the sweetest girls I know, but you also happen to be a strong woman who can do what she has to. There’s nothing wrong with that; it’s what we have to be as women anyway. Now, I want you to tell yourself that you didn’t kill your friend, any more than I killed mine; they were both dead before we even got there.” I hope she buys that one better than I have so far.

She’s staring up at me with this worshipful expression; just the complication I don’t need at this point. “Vicky, you’re amazing…I-I think I love you…” Shit. I really don’t know what the hell is going on in my head right now, not enough to sort out my feelings for this girl, but she’s just too irresistible like this. I lean over and softly start to kiss her mouth, lightly running my tongue along her lips, and the next thing I know we’re passionately kissing and running our hands all over each other’s bodies.

It’s not like earlier, when Brad and I essentially each picked an end of her body and used it however we wished before swapping again and again. This time, we’re not fucking, shagging or screwing; we’re making love. I don’t think I’ve ever done this before, and it’s really confusing me even as I give in and let myself be swallowed by the experience.

“I wish I was your little sister.” Melody sounds so wistful that I can’t respond at first. It’s some time near dawn, and we’re lying on our sides, exploring each other’s new markings with our fingers; before we were allowed to leave, the Club staff gave each of us a tiny set of brands on our shoulders denoting our membership and our home Club. They’re very tasteful really, and we were numbed before the procedure, so neither of us is really bothered by them.

I kiss her lightly, careful not to instigate anything just yet, and smile at her. “Okay, you are an honorary Thompson then. Welcome to the family little sister, I hope you survive the experience.” In the dim light I can see her return my smile. “This means that you’ll have to visit my Bets…oh, and you’ll need a sister name…I’ll call you Mel, and you can call me Vick.”

She runs her hand lightly over my face, like a blind person taking in someone’s features. “I wish you could love me like you love your Bets…”

I slowly roll over, gently pinning her small body underneath mine, and start to nuzzle at her delicate neck. “Give it some time little one. Give me some time…”

When Max picks me up in the morning, I make sure that I don’t wake my little princess; I don’t think she can handle a goodbye right now – for that matter, I’m not so sure about myself either. I’m really confused right now, and as much as my jealousy of what Max has with my Bets wants to rear its ugly head, I find myself oddly reassured by his solid, reliable presence.

We spend the ride to his home in what is for us an unusually companionable silence. Once we arrive, he shows me to a room and tells me that it is mine. I’m oddly touched that he has made a place here for me, especially when I look in the closet and see that it is stuffed with a huge assortment of clothing, shoes and accessories, all in my size; it must have cost a fortune, and had to have been set up long before now.

I spend a few hours alone, just trying out my new stuff and packing a selection for when we return to the Eyre and my sister. That done, I throw on some jeans, a blouse and some three inch heel ankle boots, and start to search the huge house for Max.

I almost don’t see him in the room, he’s so still; in fact, it’s the pictures of my family on the walls that first draws my attention. This has to be Kate’s stuff in here, which confuses the hell out of me. I start to walk in, and then I finally see him.

Max is sitting at my sister’s little desk, holding a picture of Kate and Elizabeth at their prom, and staring at two objects sitting in front of the computer. One is a slender, plain but beautiful silver collar, and the other is a matching ring. I want to ask about them, but I suddenly notice that I can see tears rolling silently down Max’s face.

Something about this whole scene just moves me, and I find myself standing behind him, lightly holding onto his broad shoulders. “Talk to me Max. Tell me about them. It’s okay, I won’t hate you…I don’t think I can any more…”

“Absolutely not. If you put that collar on you’ll be a slave the rest of your most likely short life. Your sister will kill me if she sees that on you.” Max is more than a little resistant to my plan, but I’m not well known for backing down from a challenge.

“Let me just get this straight. My Bets was just about ready to put that collar on, to make herself your slave, and then shit hit the fan, and Jack made you guys see that she needed to wear the ring instead. Now I want to wear the collar for her, and you think that’s somehow different?” I glare him into giving up his ready, redundant rejoinder. “Look, I owe her my life, and I’ve wanted to be hers for years. You owe us both for Kate, and me for lying about her…now, you can let me take this collar with me, and keep your own counsel, or I can put you into a sticky kill or be killed situation, and Bets will hate both of us forever.”

Max throws up his hands in exasperation. “Fine, do what you want with it…just remember, once that locks, you’re marked as a slave forever.” He forestalls my response with a raised hand. “What I’m going to do is let you come with me to play with my new toys at the club today so that you have an idea of what you’ll be in for as a slave; you should come anyway since they’re going to be cooking your initiation toy anyway, and I’m sure you want to get your choice of cuts fresh. Your sister should be the one helping me with these toys, since they’re a repayment for what’s happened to her, but I think it’s proper for you to go in her place. Just remember, the collar stays packed away until Elizabeth wakes up…no one can see you with it.”

I shrug; sounds reasonable to me. “So who are the toys exactly? And are we going to be snuffing them all?”

Max has the look of a cat with a canary. “The man who got Kate killed, and tried to kill you, Brad and Elizabeth had three sisters who are covered under our carrot and stick policies…so they’re mine now. I have them in the basement, and if you want to pick one to leave here to be trained as a house slave that’s fine…but we’re taking at least two of them, and I plan on using them in the high stakes games.”

As I hear all of this, my grin comes to match his. “Well, let’s go take a look and get to the Club before I miss eating my old friend…”[/size]

[center][u:1oqzjsqu][size=12pt]Part Six – When You’ve Begun to Think Like a Gun…[/size][/u:1oqzjsqu][/center]

[size=12pt] “So which one do you want?”

Max is of course referring to the three women who we are guiding from the back of his truck. They’re having more than a little difficulty; not surprising considering that their arms are trapped behind their backs in single sleeve gloves and their feet are encased in ballerina style torture boots. As each of the slave sisters is lead into full view by a leash, I take the time to study them and review what Max told me about them.

The oldest, Sandra, is in her early thirties, and is in great shape for a mother of two, but I don’t think that I could snuff someone who would be leaving children behind. The youngest is Kimmie, a punk wannabe with spiky multicolored hair and a bad attitude, who is about a year older than me. I’m not really too keen on struggling with my toy, so I turn my attention to the middle sister. Michelle is, or was, working on her masters in business management, and has a lot of unrealized potential. Behind her horn rim glasses are a pair of intensely intelligent green eyes, her hair, which was up in a severe bun when I first saw her in Max’s basement, is actually long and a lustrous jet black, and her normally disguised figure is lush and promising. She’s also demonstrating some definite submissive qualities. Yes, she’ll do nicely, whether she snuffs it or not.

Choice made, I grab Michelle’s leash and tug on it until she meekly follows behind me; Max has to practically drag the other two, vindicating my decision.

After we make our way through the member’s entrance to the main building of the club, Max takes the lead and we make our way to the main banquet hall. As soon as we enter the huge room, I spy Brad and Melody, and I am surprised to feel a stab of jealousy when I see that she is hanging on his arm. I can’t recall ever feeling that way except when it involved my Bets, and I’m more than a little worried about that fact.

I forget my qualms in a second as Melody spots me and favors me with a huge smile as she runs towards us. Her cheer is like a ray of sunlight to me, and I can’t help breaking into my own happy grin in response. I drop Michelle’s leash and open my arms wide for a hug, and Melody hits me at almost full speed, burying her face in my bosom as I spin around with her. We hug each other tightly for a moment, and then she raises her face to look at me, and before I know it we’re kissing just like we were last night. It feels like a current is passing between us, and I’m sorely tempted to leave Michelle with Max and steal Melody away to someplace private.

Fortunately for my dignity, Max clears his throat for attention. “If you two can keep it under control, we should go have a seat so that we can eat…first though…Brad, you take the young one…she’s a repayment for what happened to you at the studio, so anything goes.” Brad, who was starting to look a little troubled by the show Melody and I were putting on, smiles crookedly as he takes control of his new toy; with the looks that she is giving him, it’s probably a good thing that the sisters are all gagged.

Lunch consists of our choice of cuts from the oven-roasted bodies of last night’s toys, and is absolutely scrumptious. Unfortunately, our repast is interrupted rather rudely, as a pair of well dressed women with predatory gleams in their eyes approach Melody and I as we are focused on hand feeding each other selected bits of girl-meat. They focus on Melody to the exclusion of everyone else. “So it looks like we’re letting little girls into our membership now…I wonder whose lollipop you sucked to get in?” The speaker is in her thirties, and sounds incredibly snobbish.

While we stare at the woman, speechless, she gestures behind her and a beaten looking slave girl shuffles up to her. “Well, since you want to play in the big leagues, little one, why don’t we make a wager? I’ll bet you a thousand dollars that my slave here has more discipline than you do.”

Thinking quickly, I interrupt Melody’s response before she can get herself in over her head. I’ve seen this type of behavior before, though in less dangerous environs; these ladies think that they are lions at a watering hole, and my Mel looks like a delicious, defenseless gazelle to them. Time to let them know that another lioness has staked out this territory. “Well, since we’re making wagers, why don’t we make things really interesting. Screw the money; we can make this a straightforward contest: you and I go to the guillotines and we find out who has the most discipline.”

The silent one of the pair seems to be smart; she’s backing quietly away and looking for somewhere else to be. Mouthy bitch just looks down her nose at me. “Excuse me? Was I talking to you?”

I start cleaning my glasses with an insulting casualness. “Well, since my friend and I are the same age, I thought that insult was directed at the both of us…now that I think about it, were you also not insinuating something about the people that run this place as well? Perhaps you’d like to take it up with them? No? Well then, put up or shut up.”

The woman is completely shocked, and looks like she might be stupid enough to take me up on my offer out of anger, when she suddenly straightens up and rushes away. I look around and see the British woman who was at our initiation joining us. “My dear Victoria, it looks like you just saved me the trouble of having to deal with that trollop again. Thank you.” She turns to Melody. “Please be careful of accepting any wagers without delineating all of the terms out ahead of time. You would have lost your head, like many other new girls have, if you had taken Mrs. Moore up on that bet.”

The woman gestures for the pair of us to stand, and we do so without even thinking about it; she just seems to radiate command. She starts to walk around us, occasionally touching us lightly as she starts to speak in a hypnotic voice. “You girls should be proud; you’re the youngest initiates to pass the test in a generation. I really wanted to present you as members tonight, but my husband will have to do it; my attention is required at my stables.”

Melody’s eyes brighten. “Oh! You have horses?”

The woman chuckles. “Well, we have ponies, of a sort.”

Max finally speaks up. “Mrs. Coulter is the owner of the largest stable of slave girls in this hemisphere. She is also one of the finest slave trainers in the world.”

Mrs. Coulter stops in front of us. “I would love to add the two of you to my stables. I offered a considerable sum for you, but Max and Jack refused. I hope you two can appreciate how much you owe them.” She starts to run her hand lightly along my arm, sending a shiver through my body. “You, dear Victoria, would be a dream to train. I’ve seen your transcripts and the video of your hanging experience. Your physical condition and your strength of will, combined with your intellect and your submissive tendencies make you an ideal candidate.”

The intimidating woman moves to Melody and positions her head in various directions with a single finger under the chin, examining the girl’s face carefully. “And you, my dearest Melody, are just too adorable for your own good. I think that I would make you a teddy-girl, to warm some lucky man’s bed, that is if my husband were able to resist snuffing you himself; he has a certain fondness for incest fantasies, and they always end up badly for the daddy’s girl.” She steps back and the two of us stare at her like mice at a snake. “Well, perhaps I will take you home with me on another day. Until then, please don’t get yourselves snuffed, it really would be a terrible waste of material. Ta-ta…”

After Mrs. Coulter leaves, I finally come out of her spell and hug Melody’s shaking body tightly while I glare at the men. “Well you guys were some help there.”

Max sighs. “Vicky, she’s the most powerful person at this branch. You don’t want to cross her – ever. You also really don’t want to be the object of her desires, but I’d say it’s a little too late for that. Just be careful you two, she has a way of getting what she wants…”

“Max, what’s a teddy-girl?”

Melody is asking her question in an off-handed manner as we watch Brad’s toy desperately sucking at another member’s dick as she tries to get him off before she drowns. Kimmie has been trapped in the water tank in front of us for a minute now, after getting ten minutes above the surface to work on the man, and she’s already getting that wide eyed hopeless look that tells us that she knows that she’s not going to make it. It’s an intensely erotic sight, and I start to rub myself up against Melody’s wiggling little body from behind without really thinking about it.

I’m so enraptured by the sight of Kimmie starting to thrash within her bonds, cock sucking forgotten in her fight for survival, that I’m startled when Max calmly responds. “It’s kind of like a pillow girl, just not quite as extreme…” His voice trails off as the punk girl finally reaches her limits and lets out a stream of air bubbles, her face contorted into a silent scream.

A moment later Kimmie convulses violently as she tries to breath water, and then she falls still, staring almost straight at me with a final look of terror and pain frozen on her face. I grind myself into my Mel, turned on beyond belief, as she questions him in a panting voice. “I don’t know what that is either…”

As we rejoin Brad, Max explains, and my blood runs cold at the thought of my little Mel meeting that fate. “Well, usually pillow-girls are, umm, full figured girls, and they have their limbs entirely removed. They spend the rest of their lives on a bed, acting as a living pillow and a helpless fuck toy…teddy-girls are usually very petite girls, and they only lose their limbs up to the elbows and knees…they put little teddy-bear paws on the stumps, and when the girl isn’t being used for sex she usually wears a teddy-bear suit…she’s not quite as helpless, she can get around a bit; and she’s usually held at night as opposed to slept on, but without her hands…”

Melody turns and presses herself into me, and I hug her tight to me. I glance up at Max with worry, and he gets the point quickly; I knew there was a reason my Bets is with him. The big guy envelopes both of us in a warm hug and speaks soothingly. “Don’t you girls worry, Jack and I have things under control, we won’t let her take you.”

We break apart a bit, and make our way over to where my Michelle and Max’s Sandra are about to start their game; it had been put on hold while everyone enjoyed the last part of poor Kimmie’s show. This game has several other girls participating, and is attracting a lot of outside betting. It’s a classic game of Russian roulette, except that the gun is being shoved into the girls’ twats before the trigger is pulled. Each of the owners is hoping that his girl will be the one to get the bullet – that’ll be the prizewinner, and with it being a group pot, it’s very promising. Myself, I’m kind of hoping Michelle makes it; I’ve been coming up with uses for her, and I’d like to try them out.

As the game begins with a small Asian girl trying to get the barrel of the gun into her tight snatch, Max puts his big hands on our shoulders. “Actually, Jack and I are going to keep you two away from here until Mrs. Coulter finds some other targets for her obsessions. Vicky, you’re going to mostly be at The Eyre with me of course, but when I have to go elsewhere on business, you’ll be joining up with Melody.”

The Asian girl sobs in relief as she gets the click of an empty chamber, and it’s Michelle’s turn. She looks straight at me as she spins and cocks the gun, and her expression tells me that she has already accepted her place as a piece of property as she gets the gun into place and nonchalantly pulls the trigger. Again there is a click. “Melody, you’ll be staying with Brad while he gets set up in his new house and identity. He’ll be seeing a lot of potential clients and models, so you’ll need to blend in…I figure you can earn some extra cash for yourself if you do some mild shoots; I’m sure they’ll just love you.”

Sandra is sobbing heavily as she prepares to pull the trigger, and I can’t help feeling for her, knowing that she must be thinking of her family. There’s a loud bang, and her body bucks and heaves violently on the floor as the recoil throws the gun from her. Her legs are spread wide and her hips are thrusting upwards in her agony, lewdly displaying the blood streaming from her deceptively intact pussy.

As the poor young housewife mews pathetically and starts to twitch from the loss of blood and shock, Max calmly finishes his little speech. “I want you girls to stay away from this Club for now, and if you’re at another one, I don’t want you in the play areas without me, Jack or Brad…the idea right now is to keep a low profile; you can worry about establishing yourselves in the social order later.”

Max sighs in satisfaction as poor Sandra mercifully falls still, her sister staring at the body in shock and horror, but not struggling or making a sound. I come to a decision about Michelle right then. “Max, I’m going to keep my toy. Can you send her somewhere to be trained?”

He grunts. “Sure, no problem. While I take care of that, you girls go to the changing rooms and find something really nice looking to wear for your presentations tonight…umm, maybe you should find a private room and spend some time together first, though, your body language is just screaming ‘fuck me’ and that’s dangerous around here…”[/size]

[center][color=blue:1oqzjsqu][size=12pt]Continued below…[/size][/color:1oqzjsqu][/center]

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[center][u:tiiq331i][size=12pt]Part Seven – Forever…[/size][/u:tiiq331i][/center]

[size=12pt]“You know Brad asked me to marry him this morning…”

I pause my idle caressing of Melody’s firm little breasts and sit up to look down at her. My heart is racing and I’m filled with conflicting emotions as I try to read my lover’s face. “Really? What was your answer?” I find myself dreading the answer either way, and wonder how I got myself into this situation.

She starts to trace my features with a finger, her eyes hooded, unreadable. “I told him that I really, really like him, and I would be happy to be his little wife someday, but…”

I exhale slowly as I realize that I have been holding my breath – in the six months since Melody and Brad started to live together, I’ve been dreading this day. In my head, I know that the two of them make a great couple, and that he is just the type to make her a very happy woman, while she has been the only thing preventing him from pining away over Elizabeth – Brad and I have that in common I guess. In my heart, I can’t stand the thought of my little Mel being in anyone’s arms but my own. In fact, my possessiveness with her has been reaching an alarming strength lately, and I know that I’m going to have to do something about it soon; I just don’t know what.

I arch an eyebrow at the girl below me, feigning nonchalance. “But…?”

Now I can read her expression – wistful. “But I already belong to someone else. Mind, heart and soul.” She gives me a soft little kiss with each word. “He knew who I was talking about of course; he didn’t pretend that he was surprised or anything. He just told me to think about it…”

My next words are a struggle to get out. “He’s right, you should. You know it as well as I do; sooner or later my Bets is going to wake, and then I’ll be a slave…what kind of life will I be able to offer you then, even if she lets me? What we have is beautiful, but it can’t last…”

Those big eyes fill with tears, and her voice is intense. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. We are [i:tiiq331i]not [/i:tiiq331i]doomed. I-I have a plan…you’re not going to like it, but it’ll work, and you’ll get used to it.”

My eyes narrow dangerously. Do I even want to know what the little nymph is going to get herself into this time? “Mel…”

Her words tumble out of her in a blur. “Just listen before you say no, actually I’m not letting you say no, I’m telling you that when Bets is awake I’m going to offer myself as her slave too, and I’ll ask if we can be paired, I’ve seen slaves like that before, I’ll be your slave and hers, and we’ll be like wives and – “

I put a finger to her lips. I thought it might be something like this. I know that Melody won’t take a straight refusal, and to be honest the idea is just tempting enough to me that I probably would have trouble offering one, so I try to poke holes in the plan instead. “And just what makes you think that she would take you up on the offer little one? That’s a pretty big condition to put on a submission, especially from someone with no real history of that kind of behavior.”

Her eyes darken, and her cute little lips are pouting gorgeously in that way that tells me that she’s going to be obstinate about this. “I’ll prove my submissiveness and my worth as a slave. I already have it planned out for New Year’s Eve. And no, I’m not going to tell you what it is; I don’t want you trying to counter it. Just know that I’m doing it for you, to be with you forever.”

I want to be mad at her, but what she’s willing to do to be with me leaves me bittersweet instead. I kiss her deeply, and then whisper in her ear. “Forever is never forever…but I wish that it was…”

“Vick, let’s slip away from the party for a bit…I have a special gift for you.”

We’re at a dual birthday beach barbecue party that the guys arranged for Melody and me when they found out that we were born less than a week apart. They arranged for a slave to roast and brought us to this secluded Club property, and then showered us with gifts. The spit-muffin has stopped squirming, and to be honest all of this company is starting to wear on me, so Melody’s suggestion is like manna from heaven.

The guys are discussing the just finished senate elections, so it’s no problem for the two of us to sneak off behind the dunes with my slave Michelle in tow to carry some things for us.

Once we are at a safe distance from the gathering, I stop my love and embrace her, running my hands all over her body as we trade deep kisses. I’ve been waiting all day to do this; we didn’t want to make Brad or Jack uncomfortable – Max is of course totally unconcerned with the whole thing.

After a good fifteen minutes, just when we’re in danger of trying to get naked despite the brisk wind, Melody pulls back and pulls something from her coat. I gasp at the sight of a slender silver collar that I know full well is locked away in my sister’s hospital room. “Mel, where did you –“

She laughs nervously. “What, did you think that was the only one in existence? I had this one made last month, even got it inscribed so that we can tell them apart.”

I take the collar and look at it closely; etched into it is a single word in flowing script: FOREVER.

My eyes are starting to water. Why is she tempting me like this? “Mel, you know what this means…”

Her eyes are sparkling. “If I didn’t, do you think I would have put that word on it? I’m yours forever, just lock it on me when you get over that silly conscience of yours.”

I kiss her on the forehead as I slip the collar back into her coat. “Just hold onto it like I’m holding onto mine. When Bets wakes, we’ll get them out and go from there.” Melody only seems a little disappointed that I didn’t immediately take her up on her offer; at least she’s still being a little realistic.

“Well, at least I have a present for you as well.” I gesture for Michelle to come forward. “My michelle-slave was very well trained, and is an excellent teacher. She gave me all of the essential training in just a few months, and I want you to take her so that you can gain the same benefits. Just do me a favor, and really work on game training; I’ll just die if you do wear my collar and end up snuffed right off because you didn’t have enough experience with breath-play or whatever.”

Melody grins excitedly and gives me a quick hug before she steps closer to Michelle and starts to examine her; Michelle stands perfectly still with her eyes lowered. “Oh Vick, your timing is perfect, and so is she…now I really can’t wait for New Years.”

I sigh. She still won’t tell me what she has planned, but she did say that she would see me at The Eyre party that night, so I’ve been more than a little worried; thus, my special gift. “Just don’t get yourself killed on me, okay Mel?” I dismiss Michelle and take Mel in my arms again. “Now why don’t we go break in our cabin before the boys notice that we’re gone…”

“Brad, tell me what she’s up to, please.”

It’s the day that I’ve been dreading: New Year’s Eve. He’s drawn me away from my vigil at Elizabeth’s bedside so that we can have a bite to eat together. Melody and Jack arrived with him, but they’ve been busy with some kind of arrangements for tonight; whatever they are, Jack’s not happy about them, and that’s got me scared shitless.

Brad is about to respond when the most heart-wrenching wail of despair I have ever heard comes from nearby. “Nooooo….” That single extended syllable is so heartfelt, so devastated, that I don’t immediately identify the voice or where it’s coming from. I look at Brad, and he’s simply aghast.

The wail becomes a desperate, hopeless pleading. “Nonononono…” Simultaneously Brad and I gasp, and start to run. “Elizabeth!” “Bets!”[/size]

[center][u:tiiq331i][size=12pt]Part Eight – …Just One More Time…[/size][/u:tiiq331i][/center]

[size=12pt]“Oh my god, Elizabeth, you’re awake, you made it! Don’t cry honey, everyone’s going to be so happy, we’ve been so worried…”

Brad gets to my sister first, and is doing his best to sooth her while I make my way around to the other side of the bed. Tears are streaming from my sister’s eyes as she stares desolately at the ceiling. The pain in her voice is killing me. “B-Brad? Oh god, don’t look at me Brad, I’ve been desecrated…” I’m puzzled for a moment, and then I realize that she has pushed her gown down, revealing the scar from her surgery…I’ve been bathing her for so long that I’ve grown used to it just being a part of her, but for her to have seen it as soon as she woke up…I quickly but gently tug the gown back into place, and then run over to my special drawer and fumble around with the lock while Brad explains things.

By the time I get the drawer open and my collar on, Brad has told her about the surgery and coma. She seems to be a little distant and shocked of course, but all in all my Bets is reacting like the strong woman she’s always been. “Who’s here?”

“That’s my girl…well, Max is here of course, he’s somewhere on the grounds, hunting up some fresh flowers for your room. Jack Harrison is here with his daughter Melody – you’ll like her, she’s a little spitfire like you…she’s using the visit as an excuse to play in her first Club game tonight, so I’ll make sure you get to meet her soon, just in case. There’s me, of course…ta-da!”

As Brad responds, I’m only paying half a mind to what he’s saying, focused on my sister’s face, until he lets slip what Melody is really up to; I have to restrain myself from gasping – it’s what I had feared most. The rest of what he is saying is lost to me as the terrifying thought of losing my Mel just as my Bets is returned to me overwhelms me.

I’m brought back to reality by my name as Elizabeth asks for me, and I hurry to her side. “Right here Bets…god I’ve missed you!” I hug her frail body close and have to struggle not to break down as I try to express the myriad things that I’ve planned to tell her all this time. “You saved my life Bets, you literally gave your life for me…” I try to continue, but I’m too close to losing it.

Typical Bets, she tries to minimize what she did. “Hey, don’t sweat it, any time.”

Her selflessness just makes me angry with myself, as I think of how selfish and possessive I’d been with her, and how reckless I’d behaved in my obsession…it was always about me before, but now I have an opportunity to make it all about her. “No, it’s all my fault, I got your friend killed, and almost the three of us as well…Brad tried to warn me, but the offer was just too good to be true, and I didn’t stop to think about why they use that phrase…I’m so stupid…”

“No you’re not you’re-“ I’m trying to figure out how to present the collar to her when she takes the decision out of my hands, trailing off as she stares at my neck. “That bastard, I can’t believe he would do this, I’m gonna kill him…why you, it should have been me…”

Suddenly realizing what she must be thinking, I try to reassure her, but things are happening too fast and I’m totally off balance. “Oh god Bets, it’s not what you think, I promise!”

I’ve never seen her so pissed; it’s actually pretty scary. “It looks to me like the man I love, the man who I thought loved me, took advantage of the situation and enslaved my sister…not just enslaved – he made you his slave wife, didn’t he?”

I’m starting to cry now, shaking my head desperately; I just couldn’t bear it if my actions got in the way of her and Max…I’ve long since come to terms with the fact that he really is the best thing in the world for her. These aren’t the circumstances that I had hoped for, but I’m going to have to offer myself before anything else goes wrong. “No! He didn’t do anything other than tell me about the two of you, and what you might have done if that guy hadn’t…Max was so upset, and he needed to talk to someone about you, and when I saw the collar, and heard what it meant, I just had to…I’ve been waiting here this whole time so that I-I could ask you to close it…”

With the motions taught to me by Michelle, I turn, kneel and make the collar’s lock available to her, looking down submissively even though she can’t see my face, and I take the final step towards my dream. “I’m yours Bets – I always have been, but now more than ever. You gave your life for me; now I’m giving you mine.”

Her voice is shocked, shaken, but she’s tempted, I can hear it in her voice, and I know that I’ve already won. “You-you don’t have to do this, I don’t need paybacks-“

It’s time to let her know a little about how I feel about her – the rest can wait for less trying circumstances. “You’re right, I don’t have to. I want to – I want to be yours forever, no matter what you decide to do to me. Please…please don’t abandon me Bets…I’ve dreamed of this for years…” I mean the words with all my heart…except when Melody’s face pops into my head, and I suddenly have to resist the urge to go running to her.

I can feel her small hands on my neck, and I have to repress a shudder of anticipation…and a little apprehension; the news about Melody’s reckless plan has my thoughts in a jumble. “Vick, are you absolutely sure? If I close this, you’ll have no say in anything. I will literally own you, and hold your life in my hands.” The attempt to change my mind is half-hearted at best, and I can’t trust myself to speak with everything running through my head, so I just nod.

She tries one last time. “Last warning Vick, slaves on Club grounds have to participate in the games, no matter what. You could die tonight.” She doesn’t know it, but she just gave me what I needed to firm my resolve. I can get my wish and still be there with Melody when she risks it all for me. I take a shaky breath and square my shoulders. “Do it. Please.”

There is a soft pressure on my neck, a tiny click, and my life is no longer mine.

“Please tell me that you gave Melody lots of practice with breath-play…”

I’m standing with Michelle in a slave-filled room near the great ballroom where we will be participating in the New Year’s game. We just found out that the game is an endurance test involving hanging, and I’m incredibly worried for my Mel, who is still socializing with everyone. I hope to god that she doesn’t show, but I know that she will.

Michelle sounds just as worried as I do, and I know that it’s not for either of our sakes; we’ve done a lot of practice hangings with each other, and we know that we can go the distance. “I tried Mistress, but Mistress Melody was so focused on her presentation and postures…”

Any further discussion is precluded by the arrival of Melody. She’s grinning ear to ear, and like the rest of us is naked except for strappy stilettos and one non-standard thing…her collar. She’s so beautiful to me in that moment that I almost don’t notice the silver band, and then I gasp. “Mel, did she…”

She stands on tiptoes to give me a sweet kiss, and then turns around and clears her neck of hair. I sigh in relief as I see that the collar isn’t locked. That relief is short lived. “She doesn’t know yet…but I’m not leaving things to chance…I want you to lock it now, before we…”

I caress her narrow shoulders. “Love, we should wait…if she won’t take you, you’ll have to find a suitable owner before the wrong person claims you…”

Her voice is tiny now. “Vick, please. Just in case…I need to go into this knowing that I’m yours forever…no matter what.”

I want to delay, but I just know that would be disaster; she’s going to need all the calm and confidence that she can get in just a little while. I reach for the collar with shaking hands. “Mel, love, you were always mine, from the moment I met you…now you always will be…” I lightly press the collar together, and Melody visibly relaxes as she hears the click of the lock.

She turns to me with a smile that makes the rest of the room disappear, and then we are in each other’s arms, making love with kisses alone.

Michelle eventually gets our attention; I have never been so reluctant to break a kiss in my life. “Mistresses, we have only a few minutes left…”

I turn to survey the crowd of slaves around me. There are an even dozen of us. “Michelle, did they say how many are to die?” She holds up five fingers; nearly half of the women in this room are about to die. I look our competitors over again, trying to see what Melody’s chances are. Michelle and I will be fine, and there are two girls present that I’ve seen hanging before. That just leaves three slots. The rest of the girls look nervous and twitchy, especially a small blond in the corner…she’s not collared, but doesn’t look happy to be here; probably displeased her daddy or hubby. I figure if I can just get Melody to relax, she should make it.

I look down at my love, and see that she has that huge grin back on her face; I can feel her quivering with excitement. “Mel, calm down. You’re breathing too fast and you need to get your heart rate down as far as possible. I want you to close your eyes for me and find some peaceful memory, a calm place that you can go to while you hang…please, it’s important, I-I can’t lose you…”

Guards start to lead the other slaves out one by one. Melody pulls my face down to hers for one last kiss, and then winks at me as she is lead away. I’m right behind her, my heart aching as I try to find my own calm place.

When we get onto the stage, I see my Bets sitting in a wheelchair, watching me with a proud smile on her face, and I instantly find my center. I lift my chin proudly, focused on my sister, my Mistress, as I feel my hands being bound behind me, a tiny heart monitor being placed on my chest, and the rough hemp noose being cinched around my neck. In a strange state of heightened awareness, I can feel Melody’s excitement and trepidation beside me without having to even look at her. I try to send my own calm back along the link, but she’s bubbling over. Oh God…

Before I know it, the countdown has started. My universe is contracting, focused on two competing centers…the quiet assurance that I will never let my Bets down, and the swiftly growing corridor of emotion linking me with my Mel. I can feel her heart racing, her joy at being by my side, at wearing my collar, and youthful confidence in her own immortality. Oh Mel, what have you done?

We’re suddenly in the air; I didn’t even hear most of the countdown. The rope scratches at my neck as it tries to squeeze the life out of me, and I shove away my natural need to struggle, falling limp instead. I focus my being on floating in a void, detached from the world around me, and I can feel my heart slowing, my need for oxygen reducing to a bare minimum.

Strangely, my own calm and detachment greatly magnifies my connection with Melody…I can read her so well it’s like her voice is in my head. “Hurts…I can do this…Vick is so calm, how is she doing that…oh, the little blond is already done, she’s pissing herself…god, can barely get any air…there go the twins, wow they’re shaking a lot…”

Three down then. Come on Mel, just two to go…please. I can feel a growing fear and desperation in her. “Oh God it hurts, I can’t breath…I’m not going to make it!” Suddenly she calms a slight bit. “Oh, good, there goes the red-head…look at her face, do I look like that? I think the Japanese girl is starting to -” Panic now. “Oh, shit, I’m losing it…I can’t see…VICK I LOVE YOU!” There’s a burst of pure, unfettered love hitting me, so powerful that I’m knocked out of my void and into the real world just in time to hear the pattering of urine hitting the floor beside me.

A second later and I’m on the ground, gasping as my noose and bonds are removed. Before I can even catch my breath, I look up and see five still bodies swaying from the ropes…and Melody isn’t one of them. Relieved, I turn my gaze down - and start to sob. Melody is lying completely limp on the floor, eyes staring sightlessly toward the ceiling. Max is already by her side, desperately administering CPR…I crawl over and grab her hand, squeezing it hard and willing her to survive.

My voice is a cracked, desperate whisper. “Please Mel, don’t leave me…”[/size]

[center][u:tiiq331i][size=12pt]Part Nine - …Then Never[/size][/u:tiiq331i][/center]

[size=12pt]“Max, give it up, it’s been too long…she’s gone.”

Brad’s voice is strangled, and he’s crouched down on a chair with his head in his hands, but I still glare up at him, hating him for the first time in my life. Max just shakes his head and continues his efforts, sweat pouring off of him; I can’t understand why I ever had a problem with the big guy.

I’m still holding Melody’s little hand in both of mine, forcing myself to look into her wide, staring blue eyes, looking for the frozen look of fear and pain to change into something else, anything else that might be a sign of life. Time is moving in jerks, sometimes crawling by slowly, other times seeming to pass without my noticing.

I can feel hot tears cascading down my face as my own words from so long ago echo continuously in my head, taunting me and filling me with a hopeless, aching despair: forever’s never forever. I start to mumble the words over and over as I rub her hand along my wet cheeks, and notice that it is cooler than my own hands; panicking and beyond reason, I start to rub her hand, trying to warm it for her, thinking that if I just get her warm again, she’ll be okay.

Suddenly I notice that Max has finally given up; he’s lying on his back nearby, breathing heavily and looking at me with great concern etched on his face. In fact, everyone’s looking at me; I can’t stand the pity in their eyes, so I tune the world out and pull my Mel’s limp body onto my lap, hugging her to me and rocking her.

I look into her blue eyes one last time, trying to will that old, irresistible sparkle back into them, but they remain sightless and horribly bloodshot; I close them for her and bury her face in my bosom as she always liked to do, close my own eyes, and let my mind go as I recoil from the concept of a future without my love.

A long time passes, and some part of me is distantly aware of some horrible sound, like a great cat that has been mortally wounded, and then I realize that I’m making that sound, and that someone is trying to tug my arms from around Melody. I open my eyes and there are some kitchen staff surrounding me, trying to do their jobs by taking my Mel to be cooked and eaten by strangers that enjoyed watching her demise.

Rage fills me at the concept, and I start to growl in a manner that disturbs even me. “The next person who touches her dies.” My voice is flat, unemotional, and incredibly dangerous.

The men recoil, but one of them is brave enough to still try to do his duty. “Listen slave, the rest of the losers are already gone and roasting; we’ve got to get yours down to the kitchens now. Please, don’t make us get out the cattle-prods.”

I look for my friends, hoping for help, but I can only see Max and Brad, and they are far away; they must have decided to let me have some time alone, or maybe they just couldn’t stand to be near me like this. Either way, I’m on my own, and I don’t care. “The ghouls already have their five. The only people that are eating her are her father and myself…”

The head staffer sighs, and then reluctantly pulls out his weapon; I respond by huddling over Melody protectively and steeling myself for the pain. It never comes; instead I hear Jack’s voice, heavy with grief yet still so smooth and sure. “She’s right gentlemen, your job here is done; she’s ours, and we’ll take care of her. Now go.”

I hear the men leaving, and I look at Jack as he kneels down beside me and caresses his daughter’s golden hair. He doesn’t speak; he just positions himself to embrace us both, and together we cry.

Jack insists on carrying Melody to the private kitchen that Max requisitioned for us; holding his little angel as if she had fallen asleep watching TV and he is just taking her to her bed. I follow behind, numb and devoid of thought. After an interminable, unseen walk, we arrive. Max and my Bets are waiting for us with the tools we need to perform our next sacred, grisly deeds.

Max helps Jack place Melody in a tub in the cleaning area, and I quickly get in with her. “I’ll do this…please…just give me this time to…to say goodbye…”

Jack hesitates, and then nods and turns away. Max and Elizabeth don’t say anything; they just put their hands on my shoulders and squeeze before going out the door with Jack. For a long moment I just sit there next to Melody’s still form, trying to understand, to really grasp what has happened, and what it means for me, for my future. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t wrap my mind around the idea that I’ll never see my Mel’s sweet smile ever again, never hear her laugh, feel her kiss or share her dreams; I can see the rest of my life stretching before me, and it seems empty, desolate without her love to light my way.

Just as I am about to lose it again, a small voice inside my head that is not my own whispers: “Life is for the living…” I find myself growing calm, and I start to wash my Mel’s body for the last time.

I start at her dainty little feet and work my way slowly upward, first kissing each part of her goodbye before tenderly washing the sweat and urine from her. I give particular attention to my old favorite playgrounds of course, lingering over her sex and her breasts, but most of all I focus on her delicate neck, nuzzling at it for long minutes before working to reduce the ugly markings of the rope that killed her.

I wash her hair carefully, and then tie it up into a bun in preparation for what is to come, and finally I have only one thing left to do. I softly kiss her unresponsive lips, her closed eyes, and then I clean the sweat and tears from her face. Unable to find anything else to do, I hug her to me one last time, and then reluctantly leave her lying there and go to the door.

They are all waiting for me, looking relieved that I’m not making a scene or trying to join my love in death. I give them a weak smile. “I’m going to take her head myself…that collar was Melody’s gift to me, and I don’t want it damaged…”

I go to Jack and take his hands in mine. “Jack dear, I know it’s a lot to ask, and you probably hate me, but can I keep her head…I-I need to have some part of her with me…please…”

He surprises me by drawing me into a gentle hug, holding me like I’m made of glass, which I suppose is true, emotionally. “Sweety, how can I hate someone who made my girl so happy…you can have whatever you want from her…I just want my traditional cuts, and we’ll share the rest…”

My calm is unnerving to me. It’s like my emotions are sealed away from me, along with any real sense of connection with the world around me. All that matters is the idea that is forming in my head, a notion that is merely symbolic, but just magical enough to work. “I want her womb, and her heart…” I turn to Max. “Can you get her skin off? I mean, whole enough that it can be made into something?” He nods and I sigh. Now that one dream is gone, I need to focus on the other…

I walk over to my sister – my Mistress, and kneel before her, eyes lowered and best features exposed as is proper. I hold my hands palm up to signal that I wish to speak. She looks startled, and then she settles into her role with ease. “You have something to say victoria-slave? You may speak.”

“Mistress, after I have taken Melody’s head…and we leave the Masters to do the rest…may I – may I make love to you?” My voice is shaking with fear of rejection – what if she doesn’t see me that way, can’t get past the fact that we came from the same womb?

A finger lifts my chin so that I’m looking my Bets in the eye, and relief surges through me as I see the soft smile in them. “Of course you can my lovely slave, but don’t get used to it; when I get my strength back I’m afraid that it’s going to be me fucking you…”[/size]

[center][u:tiiq331i][size=12pt]Part Ten – Got To Get Up[/size][/u:tiiq331i][/center]

[size=12pt]“You know, I’ve heard that some women cry after they cum, but I didn’t know that you were one of them.”

Exhausted from hours of love making, and just coming down from one of my biggest orgasms of the night, I barely register what my Bets has said. “Huh, what? I’m not- “ I stop mid-sentence as I touch my cheek reflexively, and it feels wet. “I-I don’t understand…”

My Mistress sits up as best as she can to look at me with concern. “So this isn’t normal?” I shake my head as I try to wipe my face dry – it’s turning out to be a futile effort, as the tears just won’t stop. “I think I know what it is Vick. Think about how you’ve felt these past hours…”

Obediently, I close my eyes and try to sort out my feelings. “Well, it was good…real good – better than I imagined…umm, I should tell you I’ve been fantasizing about this for years now…”

I can hear the smile in her soft reply. “That’s very sweet honey, thank you. Now, what else…”

I furrow my brow, digging deeper. “I’m sated, incredibly sated…but…there’s something missing…I don’t know what…I don’t understand…” I’m starting to sob now; I can’t bear the thought that something is ruining this long awaited, magic moment.

My sister’s voice is low and sad. “She must have been really special…I can’t compete with that kind of love…”

I’m thrown for a loop. “What are you –“ Suddenly it dawns on me, and I gasp. “Mel…” That’s what was missing, what my heart has been craving this whole time…that intense flow of love and devotion that always came with a session with my Mel. It hits me like a ton of bricks that I’ll never feel that again, that I’ve traded the divine for something that is wonderful yet still somehow banal in comparison, and I collapse to the bed face down and redouble my crying. “Oh Mistress, what have I done, what will I do…”

Her voice is soft but firm. “What’s done is done; nothing can change that. What you’re going to do is be my Maid of Honor, and then you and Jack are going to work through all of this while Max and I go on our honeymoon. I want you to wait on eating any of your Melody until I’m gone, but when you do, I promise that things will start to come clear for you…”

“Oh God, I think I’m gonna puke!”

I’ve been told by my Mistress to act like a free woman until she gets back from her honeymoon, so I don’t hesitate to scold her. “You’ll do no such thing Bets, you’ll ruin this dress that Michelle and I took such pains to make for you.”

The dress that I am referring to is my sister’s wedding gown, though that definition mostly just comes from the color and the fact that it has a veil and a train. The skirt portion is scandalously high on her thighs, high enough to reveal the garters holding up her white stockings; the upper portion is off the shoulders, scoops way down her back, and barely covers her nipples even as it shapes the upper half of her breasts into twin pillows, and to top it all off, the thing is made of the sheerest of silk and is absolutely skin tight. Throw in the impressively tall platforms on her feet and her eternally innocent porcelain doll look, and you have a sex-kitten and virginal bride all wrapped into one tight little package; the guys will all be at attention when she walks the aisle, that’s for sure.

Of course, my Bets walking the aisle is my big concern; she’s only been awake for a week, and right now Michelle and a Club slave are holding her up by her arms so that she can stand…I wanted her to use the wheelchair, but she over-ruled me and insisted that with Jack and Max to help her, she’ll be able to get to the alter and stand long enough to say her vows – I guess it’s a good thing I told the Judge to use the short-short version of the ceremony.

My sister’s looking at me with panic in her eyes. “Vick, I can’t do this…I don’t know any of those people out there, we’re in the Club that I was tortured in, and I’m about to marry a man that I didn’t find out is a doctor until I read the invitations!”

I take control of the situation by holding Bets’ head steady with one hand so that I can kiss her long and hard, while I press up against her and stick my free hand up her skirt to rub at her panty-less crotch. As soon as I have her shuddering and moaning into my mouth, I pull back and look into her lust clouded eyes. “There, now when you think of those strange people or this Club of theirs, just remember that your bare cunt is dripping juices all over their nice carpets, and when you look at that doctor as he goes to slide on your ring, just remember why it is that you decided to go commando today.”

Her voice is a bit distant, but at least my Mistress seems to be much calmer. “So he only has to get rid of the veil to fuck me…God Kate, I’m gonna get blood on the dress…” That last bit seems to be internally directed, and not said on purpose, but it still makes me worry until Bets shakes her head and smiles at me. “Thanks Vick, you’re the best sister ever. Now please fix my lipstick, and make sure that I’m not giving any beaver shots right off the bat.”

“You know it’s traditional for the Best Man and the Maid of Honor to share a few dances…”

Startled for no good reason other than drunkenness, I turn suddenly and almost spill my screwdriver all over the ever so dashing Best Man/in-loco Father of the Bride. Jack just gives me his customary make-the-girls-melt smile and steadies me while relieving me of my drink. “I think you’ve had enough of those my dear. Now about that dance…”

I can’t help responding with a smile of my own; the man is just too smooth for his own good – it’s no wonder my Mel jumped into his bed as soon as she had him to herself, incest laws be damned. “You just want to get me away from the DJ before the guests riot.”

His laugh is easy and entirely too stimulating for me. “Well, Paint it Black was a nice subtle choice, though three times in a half an hour might be a bit much, and I’m sure that most people didn’t really notice No Ordinary Love or The Climb, since the flower slave was doing her rope dance at the time, but Bloody Kisses and Who Wants to Live Forever might have been a bit of a tip off that your little black dress isn’t just a fashion statement.”

I sigh. The man is right; I’ve been acting like a drama queen. “Alright then Prince Charming, order us up some good slow dance music and I’ll take you for a test drive.”

His choices are odd, yet perfect for us as we spin slowly around the dance floor. In the middle of some 12 Girls Band song I go into a total sensory flashback…this has been happening to me a lot in the last week, but until now only when I’ve been alone and moping.

I’m with Melody, just like in all of the other flashes. We’re lying together, sweaty and dirty from a literal roll in the hay, and she has something big on her mind. “Vick, I want you to have my baby.”

The past me laughs. “Sweety, they haven’t figured out how to do it without involving the little swimmers yet, sorry. Besides, isn’t the line supposed to be ‘I want to have your baby’, not the other way around?”

Bright smile; God I miss that smile. “Well, look at the size of me…the kid would fall out five months in…’sides, you’re the one who’s all fit and eats healthy. Anyway, I’ve got a way for you to come really close to having my child. You can fuck my daddy, I got half my genes from him, right?”

I pop out of my recall and find myself on the floor in Jack’s arms - yummy. He looks worried as hell, and I can’t help but be flustered with his attention focused so intently on me, especially with that suggestion of Melody’s fresh in my mind…hmmm…

“Vicky, sweety, are you okay? You totally blanked out on me and then you just went limp…”

I smile up at him, for the first time in my life giving a man serious consideration for something other than a nice dinner or a movie. “Jack, can we just go home? I think I want to give you something…”

When we get to Jack’s place, I waste no time at all, dragging him to the floor next to the door and tugging his thick cock out of his pants while we kiss passionately. I’ve been dripping wet the whole drive here, he’s more than ready, and Bets wasn’t the only one going commando at the wedding, so I just hike up my skirt, wrap my legs around him and help him slide the head into me. I whimper a little as I stretch for something bigger than a finger or two for the first time in my life, but at least I lost my hymen during a cheerleading practice gone wrong.

Jack, ever the gentleman, pauses as he hears the sounds I’m making. “You okay Vicky? We don’t have to-“

I don’t let him get any further, it might hurt a bit, but it’s a good hurt and I want more, now. I hiss in his ear. “Shut up and fuck me stud.” I dig my sharp heels into his ass, and suddenly his balls are slapping my ass. He’s all the way inside me, and I groan in a mixture of discomfort and lust. “Give it to me Jack, fuck me like a whore…”

He obliges me with a vengeance, jackhammering into me without mercy while I moan and eventually scream out for more, orgasm after powerful orgasm tearing through me like never before.

Jack might be close to being superman, but even he has his limits, and eventually his movements take on a jerky sense of urgency. I can feel him twitching and swelling inside me, and I know what’s about to happen. I’m sure that he thinks that I’m on the standard slave birth control shots, so there’s no way he’s going to pull out unless I tell him that I’m not only unprotected, I’m fertile as hell right now. In the tiny window of decision, my logic centers are yelling at me to get him out of me, but between my Melody recall earlier, and my own lustful desire to take anything that he can give me, I just end up pulling him as far into me as I can get him.

Suddenly my lover tenses and jerks, and I can feel a wonderful warmth flooding me inside. The new sensation, and what it might mean, sends me crashing over the edge into a climax so strong that I swoon.

When I wake up, I’m in a bed, and it’s light out. Jack is lying beside me, naked and snoring softly, and I’m also naked. He must have cleaned me up when he brought me here, but I imagine that I can still feel his little warriors inside me, and it makes me smile. I put my hand on my tummy, and imagine it swelling with a child.

“Well Mel, if I didn’t do it this time, I’ve got at least a month to get it right…don’t worry, I’ll have your baby…”[/size]

[center][u:tiiq331i][size=12pt]Part Eleven – Morning Dawning[/size][/u:tiiq331i][/center]

[size=12pt]“How do you want your steak and eggs?”

Before I respond, I take a moment to admire the effortless, confident manner in which Jack glides about the kitchen; I’ll never be able to do that, anything not involving a microwave is a mystery to me. I’m struck by the thought that it’s too bad that he’s not a woman – he’s great in bed, cooks wonderfully, keeps the house nice and tidy and is a joy to talk to. Ah well, at least we can be fuck buddies. “I’ll take the steak big, rare, bloody and unseasoned; skip the eggs for now, I want to focus on Melody’s taste this morning.”

He gives me a slightly melancholy smile. “Sure, sounds like a good idea, I think I’ll do the same – just do me a favor and don’t go all barbarian on me…use the utensils, please.”

I just grin wolfishly at him and go back to sipping at my coffee while I gingerly rub some salve on my inner thighs, a task made easier by the fact that I’ve been puttering around wearing only one of Jack’s dress shirts. I’m a bit sore between the legs from the brutal fucking I took last night, but I asked for it, and I don’t regret a minute of the experience – as a matter of fact, I’m hoping to instigate a repeat as soon as I get done eating.

While I wait for my steak, I pick up Melody’s collar and absent-mindedly run my fingers along the inscription. I’m planning on putting it back on her neck once her head is finished with its preservation and mounting, which should only take another week. Her skin is going to take a bit longer than that, but that’s okay, since I’m not sure I want to go around wearing Melody around her father; I like him enough that I don’t want to risk offending him.

Before I know it, there is a plate in front of me and my newest lover is sitting across the table from me, already starting in on his. Carefully cutting off a piece of my steak, I slide it into my mouth and close my eyes, savoring the taste of my love…

Suddenly I’m back at that beach, the one we had our birthday party at. Melody is walking beside me, and Michelle is hanging back…farther back than I remember. I feel colder than I should, and looking down I realize that I’m still wearing Jack’s shirt. This recall isn’t like the other ones at all, and it’s starting to scare me.

I turn to Melody as she starts to speak, and I gasp; my Mel looks just like she did the last time she kissed me, naked except for the collar and stilettos and that radiant smile…with one difference – her sweet neck is marred by the abrasions of a rope. “I was beginning to think that you’d never get around to getting a piece of me and I’d be stuck working with static memories for the rest of your life.”

I just stand there, gaping and shivering, and then I finally find my voice. “Mel? This is really you, not just some fragment of my warped mind playing tricks on me?”

A tiny hand squeezes mine. “Well, I guess there’s no way for either of us to know for sure, but which would you rather believe: that the universe has a bit of magic still left in it, or that you’re just a little touched in the head?”

I can feel myself starting to relax into this. “Well, if I am a bit crazy, I think it must run in the family…”

She nods and winks at me. “Oh yes, Bets and her Katie…they always were linked you know…and then one ate the other, so I don’t see that killing my theory at all. Regardless, I’m glad you and my dad are working out so well…I just wish you could keep him company forever; he’s been so lonely since mum left us, even when I was with him.”

I sigh and finger my collar. “You know, it’s surprising, but I really wish that I could…but there’s a few things getting in the way of that idea. I don’t know, maybe I can find someone for him…”

Melody snorts and rolls her eyes. “Not unless you want to go hunt up one of your other sisters…he’s had his eyes glued to you and Bets for a year now, and now that one of you is wearing a ring, I don’t think that he’s going to let something like a preference for girls and lifetime slavery discourage him from trying to get the other one.”

I stop in my tracks as I start to realize that I’ve jumped into deep water yet again; me and my stupid goal fixations. “Shit. When I have our baby and he figures out that it’s his…what do I do Mel?”

I don’t get an answer; instead I find myself being gently shaken. In a daze, I turn my head to see Jack’s concerned face. “You alright sweety? You just totally zoned out on me there.”

I shake my head to clear it, and then give him a bright smile. “Don’t worry about it, she just tastes that good.”

Doubt is written on his face. “You sure you’re okay? I can let you eat this in bed…give you some rest…”

“No, let’s just worry about not letting Melody get cold; you can take me to bed afterwards…only I’m not going to be getting any rest…”

“So where’s Brad? I thought he hangs out here a lot…”

Jack looks uncomfortable and stops playing with my breasts, and I immediately regret interrupting our post-coitus relaxation. “He’s not taking Melody’s death so well…he blames…well, anyway, I sent him off to study under Mrs. Coulter…”

A chill runs up my spine at that woman’s name…I really don’t like the sound of this. “Um, so you’re still working with her? Has she said anything about Melody or me?”

He moves his hand up to stroke my hair. “Don’t worry sweety, you’re safe with me…but yes, she’s still making offers for you; actually, she’s become quite annoying since Melody…” He clears his throat, then smiles a little and kisses me gently; I’m starting to really get used to his kisses now, and that worries me. “Just take it as a compliment from a very discriminating admirer of women.”

Wanting to get away from thoughts of that woman, I start to creep my hand down Jack’s body, hoping to coax little Jack back to life, when he grabs it and starts to fiddle with my ring finger. “You know, this finger looks like it needs some company…”

I narrow my eyes. “Jack…this collar can’t be removed with my head still attached, remember?”

His eyes have a playful twinkle in them that painfully reminds me of his daughter. “Yeah, so? There are slave wives at the clubs…don’t you want to try being Mrs. Jack? Third time’s the charm…”

I snort and snatch back my hand. “You’re incorrigible…I’m Elizabeth’s, and that’s that…besides, what self-respecting man steals lines from a romantic comedy? Don’t pretend, I know Forget Paris like the back of my hand.”

“Hey, it’s a Billy Crystal movie, those don’t count as chick flicks…besides, any movie with Charles Barkley and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar is definitely respectable…” He grabs my hand again, and this time actually slides a ring onto it. I have no idea where he was hiding it, and the move takes me so completely by surprise that I can’t move. “Now, we’re going to have to do some work at the Club this month, and I don’t want anyone wandering off with you, so you’re going to wear this while you’re here…it’ll keep you safe as long as you avoid Mrs. Moore and her crowd, and who knows, maybe the idea will grow on you…”

I glare at him, but those baby blues are just too much like my Mel’s for me to deny them. “Alright, fine. That means that you can take me to the Club to have a chef cook up our special choices from Melody…and you’re going to have to let me have my way with you whenever I want – starting now…”

“Holy shit, is that the Moore bitch getting strung up in the lobby?”

I’m so startled by the cute, beloved voice in my head that I almost fall over. It’s been two weeks since I ate Melody’s heart and womb, and since then she’s been talking to me outside of my memories. At first her manifestations were focused around my quiet time with her head, but now she’s starting to pop up unexpectedly, and I just can’t get used to it.

I take a closer look into the lobby, and sure enough, there’s the cold-hearted snob being suspended by her ankles and neck…I can’t help noting that along with the noose, she has a slave’s collar around her neck.

Curious, I turn to the nearest staff member. “Hey, do you know how Mrs. Moore there ended up a slave?”

The man gives me a satisfied smirk. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll like this one…Mrs. Coulter comes in last night, and finds Moore and her best friend entrapping our newest members – twins, great looking broads, daughters of some high muckety-muck. Any who, she catches them, and this time she’s not putting up with it any more, says she’s done with warnings. Never seen her so mad, scary. So, she releases the twins from the guillotines, and then collars all four of them. I saw her boxing up the twins for shipping to her stables, but Moore and her friend were put on showgirl duty – permanently. The BFF is already toast – seriously, they used her to demo some new baste that lets you do the witch burning thing without actually burning the meat…she turned out pretty good. And you can see that the Moore is about to bite it, so if you wanna taunt her, now’s the time to do it.”

I’m tempted to do just that, but Jack finds me first. “We’d better go dear. Mr. Coulter died yesterday, and his wife has totally lost it. You’re not safe here…I can protect you at my place just fine, but I’m going to have to call Max and your sister so we can figure something out for later…”

“Vicky, baby, are you okay in there?”

Jack sounds worried…I can’t blame him; after all, for the last month he’s gotten used to me being Miss Bloom-of-Health, and now he’s dealing with Miss Pukes-at-a-Moment’s-Notice…not to mention, I’ve been sitting on the floor of his bathroom for two hours now. I look at the little stick in my hand with its cute little plus sign for the umpteenth time, and try once more to figure out what to do. I’m not sure whether I want Jack in the know at this point, and if I have a Club doctor come to take a look at me, he’s sure to find out that I’m carrying his child. Shit, isn’t it just like me to get what I want and end up in a sticky situation because of it.

“Vicky, you should get out here soon, because Brad’s here to take you to your sister.” Jack sounds uneasy, and I’m sharing the feeling. Something doesn’t feel right; a few months ago I would have trusted my life with Brad, but since New Year’s, I just haven’t felt safe around him the few times that I’ve seen him. My thoughts derailed, I reach up and unlock the door.

Jack opens the door, sees me on the floor and kneels down to take me in his arms. “Sweety, what’s –“ He stops dead, and I realize that I forgot to hide the prego test. Shit.

I smile weakly at him as he takes the thing out of my hand and stares at it with a stunned expression on his face. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag…um, surprise?”[/size]

[center][u:tiiq331i][size=12pt]Part Twelve – The Passenger[/size][/u:tiiq331i][/center]

[size=12pt] “Jack, I love this over-protective thing, it’s very attractive in a scary stalker sort of way, but I’ll be fine with Brad, he’ll keep me safe for Elizabeth, regardless of how he might feel about me now.”

I’m trying to put some confidence in my voice, but it’s hard with Brad standing just out of ear shot, all haggard and grim looking. Jack doesn’t seem to buy what I’m saying any more than I do. “No, everything’s changed. I need to talk to Elizabeth and Max in person, and this is the best way. I’m coming with and that’s final.” He places a hand on my still flat and toned stomach. “I really wish you would have told me what you were doing, but I’m glad you did it…and I’m not about to let you get away from me now.”

I sigh and lean into him, caressing his hand with one of my own. “That sounds surprisingly nice, but just remember, as soon as I see my Bets again, I’m no longer a woman, I’m property, a pet or a toy, and I’ll have no say in any of this…in fact, I really have no idea how my Mistress is going to react to me giving myself to you, let alone getting myself knocked up without permission…”

Jack wraps his free arm around my shoulders and squeezes gently while he leads me towards Brad and the waiting limo; our luggage is already in the trunk. “She’ll be overjoyed and you know it. Just let me worry about what comes next.”

Brad’s eyes widen in surprise and worry as Jack gets into the limo after making sure that I’m in alright. My former agent gets in after us and shuts the door, and then signals the driver and we’re on our way. “Jack, I wasn’t aware that you were going to be escorting us to the airport…um, you’ll have to make arrangements to get home, this car is booked after we’re dropped off…”

Jack’s smile is tight. “That’s alright, I’m getting on that plane too…I have business with Max and Elizabeth to attend to. Besides, with things escalating, I don’t think giving Vicky a little extra protection is a bad idea.”

I give both men a sharp look. “Escalating? What exactly is going on here?”

Brad looks very uncomfortable as Jack explains. “The widow Coulter and some like minded Club members and staff have splintered off from the Club…they have a much more…Machiavellian methodology. Essentially we’re in the midst of a cold war here, and you’re no longer the only one at risk - we all are.”

“Actually, right now at risk is a bit of an understatement.” Something in Brad’s strained voice warns me, and I try to move out of the way as I see him brandishing a little pistol looking thing, but there’s no room to maneuver, and with a hiss and a light thunk, I feel something small but sharp impact on my arm. I look down and see a dart sticking out of me even as I hear Jack yell out something while the hiss and thunk repeats itself twice more.

I try to reach for the projectile, but my limbs don’t seem to want to cooperate. I try to get up, to maybe get to Brad so I can strangle his scrawny little neck, but my muscles won’t respond to my commands; I’m a spectator now, a passenger in a car with no driver. As my suddenly limp body keels over sideways, I try to call out to Jack, who I can see crumpling to the floor at my feet, but all that comes out is drool and a pitiful mewling sound.

I stare at Brad in betrayal as he steps over Jack and pushes me over onto my back. His face is contorted with rage as it fills my stationary view – I can’t even close my eyes. “Whatever happens to Jack now is your fault bitch, just like what happened to Melody, and Elizabeth before her. You’re poison, and I hope that when Coulter – Mistress Miranda to you – gets her hands on you that she makes you suffer for a long time before she finally snuffs you. In the meantime, you little prick-teasing dyke, I’m going to get a little something for my efforts.”

All I can do is make tiny grunting sounds as Brad shoves my skirt and panties out of the way, spreads my lifeless legs and thrusts himself mercilessly into my dry, unprepared pussy. Tears stream down the sides of my face as I stare at the ceiling of the limo past my rapist’s shoulder as he grunts and thrusts into my pain-filled sex. Unfortunately for me, my dryness and lack of responsiveness make him last forever as the limo drives on and I reflect on the truth of what he said…

I can feel myself falling into a hole of self-doubt and guilt as I think about how my stupid, self-centered obsessions and stubbornness have hurt the ones I love, and I start to welcome the pain of my rape as a suitable beginning to the punishment I deserve…

Shortly after Brad finishes inside me, I find myself staring at the cloudy sky as several people carry me out of the car. Not long afterwards, the sides of a big crate constrict my view as I am carefully lowered into it and then secured. Finally I feel the prick of a needle in my arm, and the lid of the crate being put in place above me is the last thing that I see before I lose my grip on the waking world.

The first thing that I’m aware of is the pain in my wrists. They seem to be shackled, and they are supporting my full body weight. I try to stretch my legs and feet out to help take the weight off of my arms, but all I can do is brush the tips of my boots or shoes across the rough floor. Straining my thighs quickly brings the burning in my sex to my attention, and I try to cry out from the pain, but a ball-gag muffles the sound.

I lift my head weakly, wanting to look around, and it’s then that my mind registers that I can’t see; there’s a blindfold covering my eyes. I stop then and take stock of the rest of my situation. I’m naked other than my collar, Jack’s ring, and a pair of amazingly comfortable thigh high boots. My joints are killing me, no doubt from my trip in that crate, and I feel dirty and sweaty – it’s very hot and humid here, wherever I am.

I hear a metal door opening, and then a familiar British voice sends chills down my spine. “Good morning my dear little slave. I trust your journey wasn’t a pleasant one? I would tell you that I’m sorry about what Brad did to you, but I’d be lying…after all, you’ll be going through far worse than that during your training, let alone what your next owner may decide to do to you. Of course, I’ll have to limit your training for now; it wouldn’t do to lose out on a two for one deal, now would it?” I feel long nails sliding along my belly, and I have to fight to stay still. “I must admit, at first I was disappointed that I will have to hold back with you, but then I discovered that I have your lovely Jack to play with, and wouldn’t you know it, you two most perfect specimens have already given me a start on my new breeding program…I’m really torn on whether to make you a breeder or my personal toy…maybe both, if I’m lucky…”

I can feel a hand running over the supple material of my boots. “I hear that you had a hard time dealing with your Melody snuffing it, so I took the liberty of making sure that you had her with you for this…brilliant idea by the way, making her into those boots; they truly are a unique and beautiful sight.”

Mrs. Coulter, or Mistress Miranda as I suppose she’ll want me to call her, moves away, and I can feel her fiddling around with some metal objects. “In the meantime my dear, I think you really need to be properly marked as a slave…your former owners really were far too soft on you.”

I start to shiver and breathe harder as she approaches me and starts to run a needle all along my body. She pauses at my left nipple, teasing the overly sensitive thing into painful erectness, and I know what’s coming next. I tense up as the needle passes through my poor nub, but I refuse to make a sound for her. She feeds a ring through the hole, and then I feel a tugging and some heat.

“Now, these rings that I’m putting in are permanent; I’m using a crimping tool and some solder to seal the ends of them together so that they’ll have to be cut off to be removed. Of course, this is just the beginning of your marking process, and the least painful part of it, so you might as well just go ahead and make whatever noises you like; either way, you’ll sing for me eventually…” [/size]

[center][i:tiiq331i][color=blue:tiiq331i][size=12pt]Continued below…[/size][/color:tiiq331i][/i:tiiq331i][/center]

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[center][u:11szkouk][size=12pt]Part Thirteen – Tearing Apart/O Baby[/size][/u:11szkouk][/center]

[size=12pt]“Open your eyes baby, the bitch is gone…”

I groan as Melody’s sweet voice drags me from the void of exhausted sleep and into a realm of pain and suffering. I have to struggle to raise my eyelids; they feel like they weigh a ton. When I can finally see again, the first thing I notice is that the gag and the blindfold have been removed, and then I see a perverse parody of myself hanging by its arms in front of me.

It takes a few moments for my pain-clouded mind to register what I’m seeing, and then I realize that the Coulter bitch has placed tall mirrors around me so that I can see what she has done to my body.

Remembering what Brad said to me, and knowing that I need to be punished for what I’ve done to Jack, Melody and Elizabeth, I force myself to carefully study the alterations to my appearance and recall each and every pain that they brought to me.

First there are the peircings – permanent rings in my nipples, clitoris, naval, eyebrows and labia, with one of the labial rings and one nipple ring each dangling a metal tag of some sort. The clitoral piercing is particularly noticeable because the hood that normally protects it is gone, cut away and cauterized.

Those are the easy modifications, other than the bit of cosmetic surgery of course. My fingers and toes are wrapped in bandages, and I can clearly remember the nails being cut out from each at the growth plate…they’ll never grow back, I’m sure of it. Across my back and shoulders is a huge, colorful tattoo of a hawk with its wings spread and the earth gripped in its talons – I can vaguely recall some big guy coming in and working on that one for many, many hours. The really painful thing, physically and emotionally, is the brand around my naval. The tattoo guy touched it up with his inks, so I can clearly see the words that circle my belly-button in big, capital letters: POISON SLAVE.

Tears pour from my eyes at the sight of those words, but some growing part of me feels satisfied with them, that they are a perfect fit for me. My voice is dry and ragged when I finally can’t ignore the hovering, worried presence of Melody inside my head. “Mel, look what she’s done to me…I’m gonna break Mel, I can feel it coming already…”

I can’t see anything change, but I can swear that I feel a pair of small hands caressing my hurts, trying to soothe me, as Melody’s voice whispers in my ear, sad and a little desperate. “Vick, hold on for me, please, just keep it together until we can get out of this…Max and Elizabeth will find us, they’ll get us out of here and fix you…”

I shake my head wearily. “No, no Mel, I don’t want them to find us…I don’t want to cause any more pain for anyone else…this is how it needs to be, and-and I’m going to submit, I have to…there’s just no fixing me anymore…”

I swing my head towards the door as it swings open and Coulter – Mistress Miranda - clicks in on her slender heels. “That’s good to hear my dear, at least for you; I’m sure that Brad will be severely disappointed that he won’t get an excuse to try to break you, but I’d rather we get this part out of the way. Now, I’m going to release you, and then you are going to crawl to me and kiss my boots to show your submission to me. Do you understand, poison-slave?”

I twitch a bit at learning that my brand is also my new name, and then I lower my head in supplication. “Yes Mistress, I understand.”

When she lowers me and releases my wrists, I’m glad that I only need to crawl; I don’t think that I can stand right now, let alone walk. Keeping my eyes locked on the boots of my new owner, I work my painful way over to them on my elbows and knees, and then, as I feel Melody wailing in loss inside me, I kiss my former self goodbye…

“Fifty! Thank you Mistress!” My voice is cracked and weak, but still certain and filled with obedience as the last lash of the crop hits my aching, swollen tits. It’s been eight long months since I last remember having this kind of clarity of thought, and I’m wondering why and wishing that my slave-self would take control again so that I can go back to my hopeless fog of constant self-recrimination.

My Mistress’ voice is chilling to me as I hear it clearly for the first time since that fateful day when I broke. “You’ve done very well my pet…I think that I’ll reward you by letting you whelp another future slave with your Jack, once this one is out…though if I can get my hands on that Max, I just might put him up to stud instead.” I sigh in relief as I realize that she hasn’t gotten her talons on my Elizabeth or her Max, and then I gasp as I feel my abdomen cramping up painfully and realize that there is a wetness flowing down my legs. Oh, shit, that’s why my slave-self woke me up…

“M-Mistress…” She looks a little irritated, but my owner signals that I can continue. I have to think hard to deliver my sentence like my slave-self would have. “poison-slave is sorry Mistress, but she thinks that she is going to have her baby…”

She looks pleased, but she gives me a quick lashing on my ass anyway. “You mean my baby, slave.” She signals somebody, and in moments I am free of my bondage and lying on a gurney.

As I am wheeled along some long hallways and into a well-equipped infirmary, I feel the squeeze of a hand that isn’t there and hear a whisper in my ear. “Just stay calm Vick, you’ll do fine like you always do…”

I close my eyes as tears start to leak from them; I haven’t heard that voice since she begged me to hold onto myself. I almost answer her out loud, and then remember who is in the room and sub-vocalize. “Mel, I thought you’d left me. I’m so sorry baby, I just couldn’t live with myself anymore…”

Melody’s voice is stern but loving. “Vick, listen to me. What happened to me and the others is not your fault; I don’t care what that little weasel thinks. You’re a loyal friend, a wonderful lover and shortly you’re going to be a perfect mother…now find that calm place that got you through the hanging, and I’ll help you through the rest…”

I nod and smile a bit. “Sure love, sure…as long as we’re together…”

“Look lover, it’s our baby!”

Melody’s excited voice brings me out of my exhausted stupor just in time to take the little blanket-covered bundle into my arms. I look down and see a pair of unfocused but delightfully familiar blue eyes, and tears of joy start streaming down my face as one of the slave nurses surreptitiously kisses me on my sweat-drenched forehead and whispers to me. “It’s a girl sweety, you have a little girl.” I smile back at the woman and then stare into my daughter’s eyes again, making a silent vow to her that I’ll never let myself go again.

I’m not sure that I can actually nurse with my nipples pierced, after all, how would I know, I never intended to get them pierced in the first place, but I try anyway and to my surprise it works just fine. I’m feeling a contentment washing over me, like everything is right with the world, and I’m just letting myself zone out when my illegitimate owner’s face appears above me. I reflexively pull my baby tighter against me as the woman runs her hands along the two of us. “Very good poison-slave, you did so well for me…so well that I’m going to let you take care of the little thing until she’s old enough for me to start her training…and I’ll even let you name her, isn’t that wonderful of me? Now sweet slave, what will you name her?”

I don’t hesitate for an instant. “Melody, Mistress. Her name is Melody.”

Mistress Miranda doesn’t seem at all surprised, but my Mel is quite flustered. “But-but Vick – isn’t that going to get confusing? And what about poor Kate; she’s your sister and she died first…”

I direct my response inwards. “You’re Mel, she’s Melody, simple…and Kate can wait on her Bets to get her own namesake…”

My inner dialogue is interrupted as someone rushes up to the Mistress and whispers into her ear. I cringe as I see a huge, predatory grin appear on her face, especially when she turns it on me. “Well my dear, it appears that we have a special reward for you, for your contribution to our stables…by the time you are ready for another breeding, we’ll have your dear brother in law Max all ready for you, and you can give him a try…”[/size]

[center][u:11szkouk][size=12pt]Part Fourteen – The Double Life[/size][/u:11szkouk][/center]

[size=12pt]“Mistress Miranda requires my presence; I need you two to keep a close eye on my little Melody until I return. Make sure that you feed her in an hour, just mush up some wet cereal in a bowl and let her make a mess.”

I’m talking to my pair of identical slaves, gifts from my Mistress for being her favorite, and in my nervousness I’m telling them what they already know. The twins, Amy and Erica, are the same ones that had been collared along with Mrs. Moore and her friend so long ago, and they’ve been acting as my nannies and general housekeepers for months now. They’ve also been warming my bed, a unique experience to be sure.

“Yes ma’am, we understand.” Their stereo delivery still does something for me, although their general vacuous natures are fairly annoying at times. Still, they help me to reduce the stress of pretending to be the ideal, uber-trustworthy slave.

I give my little girl a quick hug and kiss, and then I’m out the door and on my way down the long corridor to my Mistress’s psuedo-throne room. As I rush along, my Mel-boots clicking reassuringly on the stone floors, I bite my lip a bit in worry. I can’t be sure of why I’ve been summoned at a time of day when Mistress Miranda customarily naps, but I’m almost certain that she has decided to try to breed me again; after all, it’s been eight months since I had Melody, and I’ve managed to get myself into better shape than I was in when I was cheerleading.

What has me anxious is that, while I’m not really looking forward to popping out another baby so soon, I’m really hoping that I’ll be able to see my Jack finally; the problem is that I might end up seeing Max instead, and that would kill much of my hope for any rescue.

“Don’t worry Mommy, the plan is the same either way, and it’ll work, I promise” My Mel has taken up calling me mommy and such ever since her name-sake was born; I don’t really bother to get annoyed by it any more.

“Yeah, I know, but the thought of Bets being all alone except for Michelle…” I’ve mastered the art of talking to my invisible counterpart without vocalizing, thank god.

Before I know it, I’m in my Mistress’s presence. She’s lounging on her favorite couch, watching a red-headed slave – her name was Margaret before she was enslaved, really sweet girl, I helped to break her in a month ago when she arrived here – being slowly squeezed to death by Sybil, the Mistress’s huge pet snake. The poor animal is too small to eat the girl, of course, but she’s been trained to kill on command, and apparently that command has been given.

I glide up to the couch and kneel with my eyes averted before it not three feet away from where poor Margaret’s eyes are starting to bug out. Her mouth is gaping wide, but only the tiniest of wheezes is coming out of her.

I know better than to interrupt my owner’s enjoyment of a snuff, so I patiently wait while the drumming of Margaret’s heels against the floor grows more and more frantic, and one of her arms, partially free, stretches out towards me. I can see the doomed slave’s eyes begging me for help, and I have to fight to keep my features smooth as I silently curse my helplessness.

Finally the girl’s lithe body shivers violently and falls still, and my Mistress turns her evil, seductive gaze on me. “Dearest slave, come up here and hold me.” I comply as the snake releases its victim at last, allowing her limp body to sprawl out grotesquely before us. Even after months of being the favored slave of the stables, I’m still surprised at how easily I can be intimate with this woman that I despise; she’s just that attractive, sensual, and – I hate to admit it – fascinating.

As I curl up with her on the couch, making sure that my back is to the broken body of Margaret, she starts to play with my nipple rings and I moan in response. Her voice is idle, but her words nearly make me lose my mask of subservience. “I finally have your birthing gift ready for you my sweet slave…you do remember what that is, don’t you?”

I hide my distress by kissing her amazingly firm breasts for a moment. “Yes Mistress, poison-slave was promised Max for a stud.”

She gives me an indulgent smile, and I wiggle in closer to her to express my false pleasure at her ‘gift’. She signals one of her guards, and I can hear someone being dragged into the room. Despite myself, I have to look.

Max is being forced to kneel before us; his wrists and ankles are chained, and he’s stark naked – I can’t help being impressed by the size of his sex organ, and I have to wonder how my little Bets is able to take that thing inside of her. My brother in law is glaring at us, and I have to fight off tears when I see that his anger is directed just as much at me as at my Mistress. “What ever it is that you want from me, you bitches aren’t going to get it.” I can’t help wincing at his inclusion of me in that hate-filled statement – oh Max, if only you knew…

Mistress Miranda responds with that sultry, throaty laugh of hers. “Dear, dear Max, you act as if you have a choice…your mind may want to resist us, but your body is about to go right along with our plans. I believe that you are familiar with the slave in my arms, yes? Well, my sweet poison-slave here has already delivered one child to my stables, and you’re going to help her to make me another.”

At a signal, Max is dragged out of the room, yelling obscenities. I shudder involuntarily at the ones directed at me, but luckily the movement is misinterpreted. “Don’t worry my little poisoned apple, he won’t be able to harm you. Right now he is being restrained in one of the bedrooms off your suite…I will give you some drugs to administer to him whenever you take him for a ride; I assure you, he will be most cooperative for a good six hours after you give it to him.”

Long fingers slide along my smooth, ringed slit, and I allow myself to respond, arching my back and purring like a kitten. She continues to stimulate me until I’m on the edge, and then she pushes me away, leaving me shaking with need and frustration. “Until you have conceived, you are forbidden from cumming unless it is with a stud’s cock inside you.” Her phrasing catches my attention, and she notices. “Oh, did I forget to mention that you have some additional protection from Max? In your suite you will find your Jack, nicely docile now that I’ve finished with him. I’m sure that he is more than anxious to spend some quality time with his new family, so go to him…”

As I turn to leave, I have to struggle to repress my grin of triumph; things are going even better than I had planned…

“Oh yeah big boy, give it to me deep ooohhhh goooddd…”

Cheesy lines? Yep, but they’re the best I can come up with between the double distractions of, well, really taking it deep, and trying to tap out a coherent message in Morse-code with my fingers on Max’s bicep while he covers me with his huge body. My heels are digging into his backside and I can barely hold back the mega-orgasm that’s been building while I update him on what’s been going on with me.

I barely finish my shortened version of events before he starts to really give it to me, and then I feel him filling me with his seed and I explode in one of my best cums in months, heaving and shuddering beneath him as I try to pull him in deeper. “Ohh, yeah Max, put a baby in me!” I’m only half acting with that line at this point; if I had to choose a man to knock me up besides Jack, it would certainly be this big, caring, amazing fuck of a man, and I’m starting to wonder if Bets will share him with me when all of this is over.

Max rolls us over onto our sides and holds me close while playing with one of my tits, using his squeezes to code out the tweaks in the plan that he’s been working on this past month with me while simultaneously teasing out some milk and licking it up. Pretty soon I start to get sore, much sooner than normal, and I have to wonder if one of my studs has already impregnated me…I sincerely hope not, since I need them both here in my suite for my plans to succeed.

As I slip away from Max and start to comb the tangles from my hair, he smiles tenderly up at me, and I have to wonder at how easily I was able to get him on my side in that first week of his captivity. I only needed to use the drugs on him the first two times, and the second time I barely gave him any; by the end of that session I had convinced him of my sincerity, and we have been engaging in daily fucking/planning sessions ever since. Of course, I’ve been doing the same with Jack as well, and to be honest, some days the whole thing just wears me out, especially when I have to spend the night making love to my Mistress as well.

Kissing Max goodbye for now, I leave him in his room, and then go to check on Melody. She’s playing with her daddy, giggling away happily, and I pause to watch for a moment with a smile on my face before I interrupt the duo with a big pair of hugs. Using my daughter’s giggles as a cover, I whisper in Jack’s ear. “Seduce the twins with me, really get them to love us, and I think we’ll only be one more step away from freedom…”[/size]

[center][u:11szkouk][size=12pt]Part Fifteen – You’re Lost Little Girl[/size][/u:11szkouk][/center]

[size=12pt]“Dear poison slave, I have a proposal for you; no, don’t stop strangling her, keep going…”

Faking it or not, I’m ever the obedient slave for my Mistress Miranda, so I continue to pull the strangle cord taut around the neck of the cute little slave that I’m snuffing for her. I’ve killed so many slaves in the past few months that they’re beginning to blur together, but I think that this is a fresh one, just brought in from the virgin-twenty-year-old capital of the world - Salt Lake City. She’s a cuddly thing, and would no doubt have made a fine wife for some lazy slob, but now she’s about to become meat for the grill.

As the poor thing struggles futily against her bonds, my Mistress watches avidly and in an idle tone of voice, goes about changing my life forever. “I intend for you to become my partner from now on my sweet apple, but first I need you to prove yourself to me beyond all doubt…I need you to make an ultimate sacrifice to me…”

The strangle cord pulls tighter than I intended as my muscles go absolutely tense in fear of what this evil woman is proposing to me. “No, not my Melody…please…”

She actually laughs at my horror. “My dear, you should know by now that I derive absolutely no pleasure from snuffing children, there’s nothing more distasteful…no, I have someone else entirely for you to snuff for me…your sister…”

I stop breathing for a moment, and then my mournful surmise comes with my reluctantly expelled breath. “Elizabeth…you got my Bets…” Suddenly, just as my plans for freedom are almost at fruition, my world is crumbling around me once again.

“Of course my dear…your other sisters really are of little interest to me…” Well, at least that’s some good news for me… “Yes, I have her…actually, I should thank you for that; if you hadn’t given Michelle to your sister, I don’t think I ever would have gotten my hands on her…”

I can feel the blood draining from my face; my whole world is turning upside down. “Michelle…how did you…”

Mistress Miranda pauses a moment to appreciate the moment that the poor Mormon girl beneath me gives up the ghost, and then she signals for me to rise and embrace her; I obey without even thinking about it. “Who do you think it was who trained the poor thing? Nice job breaking her, by the way…really, all I had to do was threaten to add her little nieces to my stables and she was putty in my hands…”

My legs start to give out, and I slide down her rubber-clad body until I am crouched over on my knees at her feet. “Don’t give me an answer yet dear one; I want you to talk to your former Mistress first, so you can understand the situation fully…in the meantime, I have some news for you to take back to your man-slaves. Tell them that they did a good job; I just got back your blood tests, and you are very much with child. In reward, I think we should let them breed the twins, and of course I’ll line up some other slaves for them to breed as well.” She pauses a moment, waiting for me to respond, but this is just too much at once for me to process. “Well poison-slave, what do you think?”

Gathering my wits as well as I can, I kiss my Mistress’s boots and respond in a quiet, toneless voice. “Very good idea Mistress, and good news. I-I’ll tell the men and the twins right away…”

Suddenly Mistress Miranda is doing something I’ve never seen her do with a slave; she’s crouching down with me and holding me gently in her arms while she softly kisses the top of my head. “No sweet one, first I want you to talk to your sister. I know this is all very hard for you, but after you see her I think you will understand that it is all for the best. I really am asking this of you out of - out of love…”

I’m not really aware of the journey to my sister’s room; but I snap out of my funk when I realize that she’s not being chained up in a cell and tortured, but is instead quietly reading a book on a huge bed in one of the best suites on the property. I look at my Mistress questioningly. “Oh, you’re wondering about the rather soft environment? Well, for one thing, your Elizabeth has earned quite a bit of respect and admiration from me since you were captured; she’s been quite the thorn in my side. I felt that it was only proper that she be treated as a royal prisoner. As for the other reason…I think I’ll let her explain that to you.”

My Bets looks up at the sound of Mistress Miranda’s voice, and smiles brightly at the both of us. “Oh, thank you Miranda, I was hoping that I would get to see Vicky soon. Has she seen Michelle yet, or is she still in the infirmary?”

My current Mistress laughs lightly and walks over to give my former one a gentle hug and kiss while I stand frozen in surprise. “I’m afraid that you did quite a bit of damage to poor Michelle, so it might be awhile before she can come apologize to the two of you. Don’t worry though, she understands the anger you felt, and doesn’t hold it against you.”

Elizabeth nods, and then turns to me and pats her hand on the bed next to her. In seconds, I’m there and holding her sweet little body for the first time in a year and a half. A surge of mixed love and regret and fear sweeps over me, and I lay myself down so that my face is pressed against her stomach as I start to sob.

I’m vaguely aware that my sister and I have been left alone, but mostly I’m just focused on the feel of her small hands running through my hair as she speaks in a soft, sad voice. “Oh Vick, I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this, and for what you need to do next…really I am, but I need you to be the strong one for me now, because I can’t get through this by myself…”

I force myself to calm down, and then I reposition myself so that I can cradle my Bets in my arms. She looks up at me, and despite the sadness in her eyes, there is a sweet smile on her lips. Finally I find the strength to speak, my voice shaky and plaintive despite my best efforts. “Bets, she wants me to kill you, and I can’t do it, I just can’t. We need to get you out of here, get you someplace safe and then – “

A finger on my lips stops the flow of words. “It’s okay Vick. Really it is. I-I need you to do this, because, well…” She takes a deep, shaky breath. “I’m dying Vick. Without my drugs, my body will reject my heart, and thanks to my own efforts, Miranda can’t get any; we just cut off her suppliers right before I was brought in. I have enough with me to last awhile, maybe three or four more weeks, but once they are gone, I need you to snuff me – before I start to suffer.”

I shake my head angrily; I’m not about to let her give up on me. I whisper fiercely into her ear. “No! No Bets, we have a plan, we’ll just move things up, we’ll get you to some medicine before it’s too late…”

She just smiles at me for a moment, a single tear running down her cheek. “Sweet, loyal Vick, don’t you see? You have too much to lose. I won’t let you risk my niece, my husband, our Jack and whoever that is growing in your womb, not for me. I need you to understand something. When I first woke up, and found out about my heart, and who’s it was, I made a vow to Max that I was going to find out what it’s like to die on the spit, with all the drugs…and I want you to help me fulfill that vow. Please, I need to have my death mean something, and if I get to realize a dream and help get you into a position to help yourself, I can go into this content.”

I’m sniffling, realizing that she won’t let me out of this. “But Bets, aren’t you scared?”

Her face crumples and my heart aches for her as she throws herself into me, burying her face in my chest. “God y-yes. I’m fucking terrified…” I hold my sister and cry with her for a few minutes, and then she pulls her self up and looks at me with shining eyes and a twisted smile. “I’m scared baby, real scared, but I want it. I want it so bad that I can taste it; just the thought of it is making me wet…make love to me Vick, please, and promise me that you’ll be the one that shoves the spit in…please…”

I take a deep breath, and then gently lay my Bets on her back and start to lick and nibble my way down her body. “I will Mistress Bets, I promise…”

When I get back to my suite and share my news, the reactions are about what I expect. The twins are of course overjoyed to hear that they will soon not only have another child of mine to love, but some of their own as well. Melody of course doesn’t understand, and is just happy to have me back before her bedtime. Finally, Jack and Max are just as determined as I am to find a way to get our Elizabeth to safety.

I tell my men to do their best to get the twins to fall in love with them; they already love me as much as they do each other, so I know that they’ll obey me without question, but our plans need the flexibility of Jack and Max being able to count on the same loyalty.

After sending Amy and Erica off to get themselves laid, I put Melody to bed and then spend this rare quiet time to talk things over with Mel. “Baby, I didn’t want to tell the men this, but if Bets is right on how much time she has left, we’re not going to make it. It’s so close, but I-I don’t think we can save her…oh Mel, I feel so lost; what am I going to do?”

I close my eyes and sigh as I feel invisible arms holding me. Mel’s voice is as sweet as ever, but firm, resolute. “You know what to do, you always do. If you have to spit her, you’ll do it, you’ll make sure she cums like crazy until she dies, and then you and the boys will get your revenge…just remember, you won’t have to do any of it alone…”[/size]

[center][u:11szkouk][size=12pt]Part Sixteen – Land’s End[/size][/u:11szkouk][/center]

[size=12pt]“Vicky, you already know that we can’t save your sister, don’t you?”

The whispered voices in my ears startle me because of the eerie stereo effect, but even more so because I wasn’t aware that the twins knew about the plans that Max, Jack and I have been working on at all. “Um, girls, what are you – “

One of the twins – Amy I think – climbs over the back of the couch, sits beside me and puts her arms around my waist, while Erica bends close over me to hug my chest, pressing her own plush chest against the back of my head. The girls hold me tight while they alternately speak to me in whispers. “We know all about your plan.” “We think it’ll work.” “But we know the timing won’t work…” “…to save your Bets.” “So we are changing it a little…” “…so that when you spit your sister…” “…and everyone’s distracted…” “…the two of us will start things off.” “We’ll die, but that’s okay…” “…you’ll have a better chance to succeed.”

I look at the visible twin with tears in my eyes. All this time we’ve underestimated them, thought of them as just a pair of nice, clueless girls, and the whole time they knew what we were up to and now are willing to give their lives for us. “Oh girls, please don’t get yourselves killed, you don’t have to do anything other than let Max and Jack loose…”

Shaking heads. “No, that won’t work; first, you need to have Max with you to give Elizabeth her shot and to guide you when you spit her, and you’ll need him to take care of the guards that are right there.” “Second, Jack can’t take care of the rest of the guards by himself.” “Third, Jack needs to get Melody secured, and that will take too long.” “Don’t worry, we have it all planned out.”

As they outline their plan, I can’t help admiring the devious simplicity of it, and the self-sacrifice that they are exhibiting. Grudgingly, I nod my head in acceptance, dooming my poor slaves to painfully die for me, and soon.

I draw my two slaves, my friends, to my bedroom and make love to them, all night long.

In the morning, the three of us exit my room and are surprised to see that we have a guest. I freeze as I see that Michelle is sitting on my living room floor, playing with Melody, and a confusing jumble of emotions run through me. Rage, at my slave having betrayed us; happiness, at seeing this woman who had been such a friend to me when she should have resented me; pity, at her still poor condition after having been beaten to within an inch of her life by my Bets; and finally relief, because the new version of our plan requires that I get Michelle’s cooperation, one way or another.

After a long moment, Michelle sees me and turns pale, and then she painfully crawls over to me and prostrates herself before my feet. “Mistress Vicky, I am so sorry. I didn’t want to do it, I swear, I love you and Mistress Elizabeth, I really do, but my nieces…they’re so little, so innocent…”

Letting out a deep breath, I signal to the twins and they pick up Michelle by the arms. She keeps her tear filled eyes pointed towards the floor. “Mistress Vicky, if you-you want to snuff me out for what I’ve done, I can accept it; I’m ready, just please, please say that you forgive me!”

My former slave tenses up as I step up to her, and then when I put my arms around her and rest my head on her shoulder, she relaxes and returns my hug. “Oh Michelle, I can’t blame you for protecting those children, I would have done the same to save my little Melody.” I draw back and look her in the eyes. “Michelle, my slave, I need to know…can I trust you? Does she still have a hold over you?”

Michelle raises her chin, her eyes hardening. “That bitch will never get my sister’s girls. All of the routes in and out of here were cut off a week ago. The Club might not know exactly where we are yet, but they’re closing in. Whatever you need of me, you can trust me to do it.”

I can feel my smile turning evil. “Alright then, not only will you get to help us, but you may just get a shot at the bitch when I go for her…”

“Vick, I’m about to run out of time…you need to do it tomorrow…please.”

I pull my sister’s naked body in closer to my own. I knew this time was coming any time now, but I had hoped for a few more days to spend with her. “Oh, Bets…not so soon…I-I’m not ready…”

“And you never will be; I love you for that, believe me, but I want to be healthy enough to enjoy myself on the spit. Please, please don’t feel sad for me. I’m going at a time of my own choosing, and in a manner that…well, let’s just say that if you’d seen what these girls look like when they’re enjoying the spit, you’d be thinking about it yourself…” Her eyes are dreamy as she says this, her smile wistful and sweet, and I feel slightly reassured, but still…

“I know Bets, your own personal piece of heaven on earth…but…to never see you again, never talk to you or make love to you…”

A pair of small hands press firmly to the sides of my face, forcing me to lock gazes with her. “Listen, Vick, it was only a matter of time before we had to say goodbye forever, even in better circumstances it probably would have been sooner rather than later, and at least Katie and I get to go into this knowing about our namesakes…”

Bets is talking about the twins that I now know that I am carrying. My mind is set on naming them after my sisters, probably in hopes that at least a bit of their spirits might be passed on; stranger things have happened, as evidenced by the secrets that Bets and I have just recently shared with each other – that her Katie and my Mel reside within us.

I sigh, and then draw Bets in for a passionate kiss, pressing my body tightly against hers and rubbing my Mel-skin-boots against her legs sensuously. After a timeless, shuddering orgasm takes us both, I pull back and smile through fresh tears. “I’m gonna miss you Bets…”

She returns my smile, gives me a quick kiss, and then pushes me upright. “Not yet you’re not. Miranda has agreed to let me spend my last night in your suite, so let’s go spend some time with the family before little Melody has to go to bed, and then I want you, Jack and Max to make love to me until I pass out…”

In the morning, Jack distracts Melody with a messy breakfast while Max, Michelle and I sneak Bets out of the suite. Bets didn’t want to try to keep up a cheerful façade around my daughter, and the three of us aren’t eating until Bets is done roasting, out of respect to her; she’s been fasting in preparation for this day.

On our way out, I hand the twins a paper with our schedule for the spitting and roasting, and then I give each of them a final, sad and grateful hug and kiss goodbye. Amy and Erica whisper their love for me as they return my embrace, and then Max and Bets give their goodbyes as well. I give the doomed sisters a final, long look while they smile and wink at me, and then we are out the door and on our way to the infirmary’s locked out supply rooms.

Mistress Miranda was more than happy to allow Bets to have the full pleasure drug treatment for her spitting, and when I told her that I needed Max’s medical expertise to do everything correctly, she readily agreed to give him unlimited access to the stable’s medical supplies. Taking advantage of this, Max fills his medical bag not just with the shot for Bets and small monitoring equipment, but also with some scalpels, a small tranquilizer gun, and some shots of the drug that was used on him to gain his cooperation when he first arrived here. On our way out, we make sure to leave the doors unlocked.

Everything else we need is at the spitting station in the courtyard already, so we make our way outside. The sun is not very high yet, but wherever we are is in the tropics, so the temperature is nice and warm. Even so, as we approach the BBQ pits, and see the rack of spits, Bets and I both start to shiver a little.

Bets grabs my hand with her small one and squeezes it convulsively; she’s starting to hyperventilate a little. “Vick, I want this, but god I’m scared…”

I stop and turn her for a long kiss and then whisper in her ear. “We all are sweety, we all are. But just think, the one person who should be scared the most doesn’t even know it.”

We both turn and look at Mistress Miranda as she approaches us. I can’t help feeling a twinge of regret for what is to come as my Mistress gives each of us a rather sweet embrace and kiss before she moves on to sit in her outdoor throne. Her sultry voice rings out into the morning air. “Let this day be one of celebration for all here, Master, staff and slave alike, as we honor the willing sacrifice of the worthy Mistress Elizabeth…”[/size]

[center][u:11szkouk][size=12pt]Part Seventeen – Helter Skelter[/size][/u:11szkouk][/center]

[size=12pt]“Oh God guys, I wish this could last forever…oh yeah…you really need to try this part some time Vick…mmm…I don’t even have the drugs in me yet and I’m…ohhh…already in heaven…”

Wiggling the three fingers that I’ve worked into my sister’s olive oil lubed little cunt and sucking hard on her clit, I take her over the edge into her third orgasm since Max, Michelle and I started in on her prep work. Waiting for her to come down a little before responding to her comment, I look up and smile at the thought of being in her position; gently suspended by a weird hammock type setup that allows us total access to her body, Max sensuously oiling and massaging her upper body while feeding her the most loving, adoring kisses that I’ve ever seen, while Michelle slowly works over her lower body in a similar manner and I of course use my fingers to gradually open her up for when I spit her.

“Baby, you’ve still got lots of cums to go before we’re done with this part, cause I’ve still got two more fingers for you. God Bets, you look so hot right now, I think I’d almost be joining you if I didn’t have my little girl to worry about.”

She smiles lazily, looking at me through glazed, half lidded eyes. “If you think I’m hot now, just wait ‘til later…but I guess it’s a good thing you have Melody, or I’d be short a person…now give me some more, I want to feel you stretching me good for the next one…”

I smile back at her before I start working a fourth finger into her, and then when she closes her eyes and lets her head fall back, I take the opportunity to check the PDA that Michelle set on the table next to me. On it I can see that the standard portal for the stable’s internet access has disappeared, replaced by a CCTV feed from the main banquet hall of the property. Good, that means that Jack and my little Melody are safely ensconced in the security and media control rooms. I didn’t expect Jack to have any trouble dealing with the few techies that man the place, not with the tranquilizer guns that he planned to grab from the infirmary after we left it unlocked, but with him carrying my daughter on his back, I just had to worry. Well, at least that means that they’re safe, as long as the rest of us succeed.

Speaking of the rest of us, the CCTV feed, which should be the only thing available now to the computers, PDA’s and cell phones on the property, is focused on my twin slaves, holding hands and cheerfully waving from the live butchering table while text scrolls across the image, inviting all staff and Masters to come and take their choice of cuts from the delectable sisters and cook them to order while they are still alive, as a celebratory gift from Mistress Miranda and her poison-slave. It’s a probably intentional irony that they chose to put my slave name in the invitation, considering that, if all is going to plan, the girls have a potent poison used for snuffs from the infirmary working its way into all of their tissues, its lethal paralytic action counteracted for the moment by massive doses of some cocktail of drugs that Max left for them; by the time the poison is able to take effect, my poor slaves should be dead or close to it, and shortly after that the hapless diners should be having too many problems to interfere with the rest of our plans.

I try to concentrate on bringing my Bets pleasure as I slowly get my fist into her and use it to finish stretching her for what is to come, but I can’t keep myself from watching the little PDA screen in horrified fascination. An even larger crowd of men and women than we had hoped to entrap are gathered around my poor, brave friends, who are still holding hands and smiling through their tears even as their flesh is cut from them bit by bit, starting with their breasts and reproductive systems. Luckily, Max and Michelle are done with their oiling duties and help to keep my Bets climaxing over and over despite my lapses of attention.

Finally, one of the twins – Erica I think – leaves her sister to face the rest of her dismemberment alone, as an impatient diner forgoes a tourniquet while sawing through her shapely thigh and she swiftly bleeds out, kissing Amy goodbye as best she can before falling limp in her sister’s remaining arm.

Knowing that we need to get my Bets taken care of before the impending mass food poisoning in the banquet room is noticed, I pull my hand out of her and signal my assistants. Max and Michelle take as firm of holds as they can on her shoulders and legs, while I wrap my arms around her tiny waist, and we gently lift her slippery body and carry her the short distance to the spitting rig.

Bets starts to breath hard as Max and Michelle strap her tightly in, so I kneel before her and start to caress her short hair while giving her small, reassuring kisses all over her face and whisper in her ear. “Don’t worry baby, all you have to deal with is a little prick from the needle, and then it’s all pleasure from there…I’m with you Bets, all the way…”

Max moves my sister’s head so that she is looking straight down at the ground, and then tells me to hold her steady while he approaches the base of her skull with a huge, long hypodermic. I have a phobia of shots, and can’t bear to watch, so instead I concentrate on the PDA while he works. In the time that it takes for Amy to lose her last limb, becoming a writhing, cratered torso, the needle is positioned and has delivered its cargo into my Bets’s brain stem, with barely a whimper from her.

The first test of the shot is immediate, as Max forgoes the standard bandage for the small wound left behind, and simply cauterizes it; Bets reacts by moaning in pleasure, so it’s certain now – any pain or discomfort she might have felt from now on will now register as pleasure. I sigh in relief, not realizing that I had been holding my breath; the spitting will be much easier for me knowing that it really will feel like the ultimate, most wonderful fuck for her.

While Max repositions my sister’s head so that her throat and mouth are aligned properly for the spit, I glance at the PDA one more time, and then kiss the screen to symbolically tell my loyal slaves goodbye after seeing that Amy’s suffering has finally ended with the removal of her head; some sick fuck is eating her brain, but he’ll get his in just a short while, so I try not to get too angry about it.

After closing my eyes for a moment to get myself focused on the task at hand, I look deep into my sister’s fascinating gray eyes and smile reassuringly. “Well Bets, this is it…any last words?”

Her smile is dazzling; all of the fear that she had earlier is long gone. “Just tell Melody, and her sisters to come, about me, and about Katie and Mel, and have Max tell them about my Annie…and just…thank you sweety, thank you for doing this for me…I love you so much…”

I have to fight back my tears, but I still somehow manage to hold my smile. “God, I love you too Bets…I’ll tell them, I promise.”

She winks at me; I’ve never seen her look so alive. “Good; now go get my spit oiled while I say goodbye to my husband.”

Michelle and I oil the long pointed pole out of earshot while Max shares a final few words and kisses with his wife of so short a time. He’s holding it together pretty well, all things considered, but I can’t help feeling for him; this makes two young wives that he’s lost early in their marriage. If my heart weren’t already breaking, I think it would have done so for him as he finally, reluctantly breaks off their final kiss and joins us.

Max and I take the spit to my sister, letting her give it the traditional kiss, and then we take it behind her and line up the point with her glistening slit. While we are doing that, Michelle is goofing around in Max’s medical bag, primarily trying to find the monitoring tools for watching Bets’s vitals during the spitting, but also setting the rest of our supplies up for later. I know that she has been successful when she passes me on the way to placing the little instruments on my sister’s back, as she slips the pair of shots that she had palmed into my boot cuffs, along with a scalpel.

As soon as the tiny screen of the portable monitor lights up, Max and I slip the end of the spit into Bets’s well-lubricated pussy. Immediately her bonds are tested as she groans and tries to thrust back at it, but they hold steady, and surprisingly so does my grip on the spit. I’m amazed by the sudden calm that I’m feeling, until I hear my Mel in my head. “Don’t worry honey, I’ll keep the bad feelings away; you just worry about doing a good job and I’ll get your back…told you that you wouldn’t do this alone…”

Gaining confidence, I slide the spit in and out a few times to give Bets a bit of an extra thrill, and then I get down to business, pushing slowly but steadily deeper until I feel the tip reach the end of her vagina. With Max’s help, the next stage of finding and dilating her cervix, entering her womb and realigning things goes by in a blur, until I finally reach the part that I’ve been dreading – the point of no return, when I need to pierce her womb and enter her body proper. I take a deep breath, waiting for regret and grief to hit me, and then let it out when I realize that I’m feeling nothing other than enjoyment of the sounds that my sister is making as Bets lustily begs me to ‘pop her last cherry’; Mel is as good as her word, and I hesitate no more, driving the spit onward with sure, steady hands.

Max is doing most of the guiding now, the sight of my sister’s labia stretched tight around the smooth shaft of the spit as it moves into her is mesmerizing, and the noises that she is making as she experiences a rising crescendo of orgasms are incredibly arousing, and so I’m surprised when suddenly Bets starts to gag and panic, and I realize that the tip of the spit is about to exit her mouth. Michelle grabs the end of the spit from Max so that he can use a scalpel to open a hole in his wife’s throat and secure it with a small metal ring. I don’t even realize how tense her distress has made me until she starts to breath through her throat and relaxes, and the tension drains from me; I don’t even want to know what I would have done if Mel wouldn’t have been helping me cope.

Evening out the spit, sliding the stabilizing post into her ass, and securing her arms and legs to the spit take little real concentration, so I take a look around to see how many people are around, and how they are reacting. There are surprisingly few guards – I’m beginning to think that Mistress Miranda really does trust me beyond reason. The Grande Dame of the stables herself appears to be nearly as turned on as Bets, who is in the process of learning how to fuck the spit even as we work to secure her to it; the Mistress is lounging in her throne, with her gown thrown open to reveal her amazing nude body, and her legs spread lewdly to allow her to stroke herself with one hand while the other kneads her firm tits. Her eyes are half-lidded with lust, and she doesn’t really seem to be aware of anything other than the writhing woman on the spit.

As Max removes the monitors and places them back in his bag, coincidentally palming the tranquilizer gun and a scalpel, Michelle and I take Bets on her final, short journey to the roasting pit. We are just getting the ends of the spit on the brackets and the machine to rotate her set up, when I see someone approach and gasp as I recognize him; it’s Brad, apparently come to pay his last respects to his childhood friend.

My eyes are narrowed with hate as he steps near me, and he returns my glare in kind, but I let him pass unhindered as he steps close to the pit and looks my Bets in the eyes. “Hey Elizabeth…I really wish this hadn’t happened, but I must say, you were right, you look more beautiful than ever like this…I-I hope that you can forgive me for what I did, but regardless, I want you to know that I have always loved you, and I hope that you enjoy the rest of your time…”

He watches her for a moment as she starts to rotate, and then turns to walk away, pointedly ignoring me; the last mistake he’ll ever make. Not stopping to think about what I’m doing, I whip out my scalpel, pull the safety cover off of it, grab Brad’s hair at the back of his head, and jerk it back so that his throat is exposed to the blade that is suddenly poised at his neck beneath his far ear. I take a moment to savor the dawning realization on his face, looking into his widening eyes as I quickly let him hear the last, hate filled words he will ever hear. “When I get done here, your sister is mine.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but all that comes out is blood as I draw the sharp instrument across his throat, digging deep as I slice him open from ear to ear. Immediately covered in spraying blood, I turn towards Max and Michelle, feeling like some avenging demon from hell. “Let’s play…”[/size]

[center] [u:11szkouk][size=12pt]Part Eighteen – This Town Aint Big Enough For the Both of Us[/size][/u:11szkouk][/center]

[size=12pt]“My love, what have you done?”

Although whispered from a distance, my Mistress’s words carry to me clearly as she staggers to her feet in shock, and I can’t help feeling a twinge of regret at my betrayal of her, but then I shake the feeling off as Brad starts to really thrash at my feet and Max runs towards the nearest guards, brandishing his little gun and a scalpel.

The guards seem to be immobilized, shocked and confused at this violent turn of events at what should have been a routine spitting, so by the time Max reaches the closest guard, the most distant ones are already falling to the ground, victims of Max’s darts; apparently he’s saving them for those that he can’t reach immediately. As the huge guy starts to melee, I hear a sharp crack and turn to see Mistress Miranda firing a small pistol at him. I’ve seen her use it before; it’s intended more for torture snuffs than for protection, semi-automatic with very small bullets in a very large clip. Nevertheless, it’s a very real threat to us.

Michelle turns to me with a strange look on her face. “Stay close behind me Mistress Vicky, no matter what.”

Before I can answer, she takes off at a run towards Mistress Miranda, a scalpel clutched in each hand, and I have to scramble to catch up. The Mistress sees us coming and starts to fire at Michelle with a wild look in her eyes.

I gasp as the first bullet finds flesh and Michelle stumbles, but she quickly recovers her footing and runs on. A few steps later and my Slave jerks again, and this time her pace is severely affected. Nevertheless, she stumbles on, with me right behind her, feeling guilty as hell. As we close the distance, the rate at which Michelle is absorbing lead increases, and finally, still ten feet away from our goal, the poor girl drops her weapons and falls to her knees. Seeing the gun training on my face, I throw myself backwards just in time, slamming into the dirt and rolling away.

Looking up, I can tell that I’m an easy target, so I do the one thing that the Mistress won’t expect – I get to my feet and run back towards her. Surprised by my movements, her shots go wild, and then I feel something hit my neck before I hear the click of an empty gun, just as I reach the wavering Michelle.

Silently asking the slave to forgive me, I summon up what I still remember from cheerleading, use her shoulders to do a vaulting flip over her and towards my Mistress, who is frantically trying to reload her weapon, and then I do my best to twist in the air so that my back is to her.

I may be a bit pregnant, but I’m still one of the fittest people on the property, and my efforts are more than good enough. Mistress Miranda is totally unprepared for my impact with her, and she slams into the ground, the gun flying from her grasp, as I do a fairly smooth roll off of her. She’s still dazed when I pull her up enough to hold the scalpel to her throat. “Tell the guards to surrender. Now.”

Her voice sounds incredibly surprised and hurt. “But my sweet love, how could you do this to me?” My god, the twisted woman really does love me…I really hadn’t considered the possibility until now.

I have to force the hardness into my voice; despite what she’s done to me, and to so many others, I find that I really have grown to care for this woman over this past year or so…maybe it’s Stockholm syndrome. “Look bitch, tell them to get on their faces or I do you like I did my sister’s childhood friend, got me?”

She slumps in my grasp, and then gives her command, telling the remaining guards to surrender just as poor Max is finally getting overwhelmed; it’s hard to believe that only a few short minutes have passed since I slit Brad’s throat. As soon as Max is released, he starts to put darts in the intact guards, ignoring the blood pouring from the several wounds that he’s taken.

Immediate threats out of the way, I turn my attention to Michelle, and let out a sad sigh. My poor slave is lying on her side in the grass, her eyes fixed and glassy, with countless wounds marking her body, including the one that had finally taken her down - a small hole right in the center of her throat; she was probably drowning in her own blood even as I was pushing off of her shoulders.

With my free hand I pull out the mind-control/aphrodisiac shots from my boot and hold them up in front of Mistress- no, it’s just Miranda now – Miranda’s shocked face. Her voice is still filled with bewilderment. “What-what are you going to do with that my sweet?”

The grin on my face feels twisted, unnatural, as I start to get the feeling that I’m really no different than she is, but I resolve myself to finish things without regrets. “I’m going to give you this, and another one later, and you’re going to order the remaining staff and Masters to their rooms, other than some kitchen staff to take care of Bets and Michelle for us, and then you’re going to pleasure Max and I while our Bets finishes her ride. After that, we’re going to eat her, and then you’re going to go to sleep for some surgery…after all, I can’t have my newest slave going around unmarked, now can I?”

Her eyes are pleading with me as Max reaches us and takes the shots from me, but I merely turn my head while he injects her with the drug. After checking to make sure that I’m uninjured, my bloodied giant goes to baste and commune with his still energetically writhing wife, and I take advantage of the unobserved moment to cuddle my former Mistress close to me, wiping the tears from her eyes as they slowly dilate and the fierce intelligence in them gradually fades. “My sweet poison, I can feel my mind going…please don’t do this to me…just-just give me a clean death, please…”

I give her a soft kiss while she can still understand what it means. “I’m sorry love, I can’t kill you; I’ve lost too many as it is…but you have to pay for what you’ve cost us. I’m truly sorry, but this is the last time you’ll have your full mind, so if you have any last words, now is the time to say them.”

Long fingers touch my lips softly, and then she smiles. “I understand.” A moment later her eyes become dull, and I know that she is lost to the drugs.

Leading the now docile woman over to the roasting area, I retrieve the PDA and tell her to use her codes to send the instructions that I ordered, and then I send a message to Jack to bring my daughter to one of the smaller dining halls to wait for us while Bets finishes roasting; I don’t want Melody to see her beloved aunt like this, so we’ll carve her in the side kitchen. That done, I take her over to Max, and the pair of us tend to his wounds while we watch my sister’s sensuously writhing body rotate above the glowing coals.

Bets lasts for an amazing amount of time, and she is so amazingly erotic looking as she fucks the spit and cums over and over again that both Max and I guiltily make use of Miranda’s mouth and tongue to relieve ourselves. Inevitably though, my sister’s time starts to run out, as her skin turns a perfect golden color and her movements start to become jerky and disjointed.

Knowing that it’s almost time, Max and I get as close to her face as we can and start to softly speak of our love for her, until she opens her eyes. They focus on us for an instant, and I can see love and joy in them, and then she seems to look through us, lost in rapture as her body starts to quake from a violent orgasm. At the height of her convulsions, those gray eyes fill with surprise and wonder, and then they roll up as her body jerks a final time and falls still.

Now that my sister is no more, replaced by a piece of delicious smelling meat rotating peacefully as it finishes cooking, I allow myself to break down, throwing myself into Max’s great arms as sobs wrack my body. Suddenly I feel a pinching on my neck, and remember that I was hit by something there. Reaching up, I feel at my collar, and find a crack and a deep gouge; it must have saved me from a bullet wound that probably would have killed me. Pulling back from Max, I lightly pull at the slender ring of metal, and it comes right off in my hands.

As I stare at the thing in shock, Max takes it from me. “You were hers until she died, but now it’s time for you to try being your own person…Mistress Victoria.”

My Mel giggles and whispers something to me, and I have to smile. I take the collar from Max’s hand and gently place it around Miranda’s neck. “No, not Mistress. The slaves here are all my children now, so I think I’ll have them call me Mother.”[/size]

[center][i:11szkouk][color=blue:11szkouk] [size=12pt]Concluded below…[/size][/color:11szkouk][/i:11szkouk][/center]

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[center][u:26ti9fy2][size=12pt]Part Nineteen – The Endless Full Circle[/size][/u:26ti9fy2][/center]

[size=12pt]“Mother, Kate and Elizabeth told me that they are going to enter into the games tonight whether you let them or not. I think Annie will tag along if they do…I’m worried, none of them has even seen a game before, let alone prepared for them…”

Deciding to let my eldest daughter wait for my response, I take my time finishing the tummy rub that I’m giving to my favorite pet. My miranda-cat is on her back, her fingerless, fake paw covered hands gently petting my tits as she wiggles and purrs beneath me. Her eyes are closed in pleasure, which is just as well; even after nineteen years, it still hurts me just a little to see her mindlessness in them. My former Mistress is content with her life as a cat-girl, but my conscience is not sure that counts, considering that in addition to removing her fingers, toes and most of her vocal capabilities, Max chemically lobotomized the poor woman, reducing her to a below-child-like mental state.

Still stroking the velvet catsuit of my pet, I respond without looking up. “I suppose that if they really want to sneak around behind my back there is little that I can do about it, they are free women by our rules, but I really think that you should warn them that I’m planning on cooking a very large number of girls in honor of my sisters’ birthday; two of the three games tonight have a higher than fifty percent snuff rate, they are very unfair, and they won’t know which game they are registering for until it is about to start…” I really would give anything to be able to stop my girls from trying to throw their lives away, but I have other daughters and a son that are still growing up, and for their sakes I can’t afford to show weakness in front of the guest Masters and Mistresses from the Clubs.

My daughter sighs in disappointment. “I already told them Mother, but only Michelle will listen to me; they just don’t seem to think that anything truly bad could ever happen to them…and they’ve been itching to prove themselves to you ever since you allowed me to sleep with Max and daddy…I think they’re jealous…”

Just like teenage girls to risk their lives needlessly over a couple of cocks; this is why I tried to get the Club to make the minimum age twenty, but as I should have expected my arguments just excited the rest of the Council and made them lower it by two years – heartless bastards. My mood spoiled, I shoo my pet away and turn my attention to Melody, absently fiddling with the pair of wedding bands on my finger as I appraise her impassively. She has her namesake’s golden hair, huge blue eyes and adorable face, but her body is nearly a carbon copy of my own at that age, toned, moderately tall, with just the right curves. Normally she wears at least a summer dress or a tank top and shorts around the stables, but right now she is nude except for the Mel-skin boots that I gave her on her sixteenth birthday…and a familiar silver collar.

I sit up, my eyes narrowing dangerously as old, painful memories try to well up and overwhelm me. “Melody, is there a reason that you chose not to call me Mom, and came to me with that collar on your neck?”

I sigh in relief as she takes off the collar, then tense up again as she kneels before me and presents it to me in the traditional manner. “Mother, you know that I love you far more than as a daughter…and I know that you feel the same. I have no wish to go into the wider world, or to try to find something that can match what I already have with you. Please let me be yours…”

I sigh, knowing that I can’t deny her anything, and in my head I can feel that Mel is just as conflicted as I am. “Melody, that collar says forever for a reason…only one person has ever taken one of those off without dying first, and you’re looking at her. The person who originally wore that one died within the hour after it was locked around her neck; and if I accept your offer, I will test you just as seriously this very night, and our shared blood will not help you one bit. Please take some time to consider what you are asking of yourself, what future loves you may be sacrificing, because if you ask me again, you already know what my answer will be.”

My confident, overly serious daughter pauses for a long moment as Miranda bumps up against her, wanting to share love and affection with her longtime playmate, and then she adjusts her position back to the perfect slave presentation posture and lifts the collar again. “Please Mother, my heart is for you alone.”

Miranda purrs against Melody’s side as I lock the collar around her neck and then take her into my arms for a very non-maternal kiss, all the while wondering which of my daughters might die for me tonight, and guiltily getting turned on by the idea. Breaking the kiss at last, I whisper in my newest slave’s ear as I pull her towards my bed, not for the first time, but very possibly for the last. “As you wish, your heart is mine…until its last beat my dear slave…until the very last beat of it…”[/size]

[center][i:26ti9fy2][size=12pt][u:26ti9fy2]The Last Beat of My Heart[/u:26ti9fy2] Copyright - Dreamhouse Music

In the sharp gust of love My memory stirred When time wreathed a rose A garland of shame Its thorn my only delight War torn, afraid to speak We dare to breathe Majestic Imperial A bridge of sighs Solitude Sails in a wave of forgiveness On angels’ wings

Reach out your hands Don’t turn your back Don’t walk away How in the world Can I wish for this? Never to be torn apart Close to you ‘Til the last beat Of my heart

At the close of day The sunset cloaks These words in shadowplay Here and now, long and loud My heart cries out And the naked bone of an echo says Don’t walk away

Reach out your hands I’m just a step away How in the world Can I wish for this? Never to be torn apart Close to you ‘Til the last beat Of my heart

How in the world Can I wish for this? Never to be torn apart ‘Til the last beat ‘Til the last fleeting beat Of my heart[/size][/i:26ti9fy2] [b:26ti9fy2][color=blue:26ti9fy2][size=14pt]Finis[/size][/color:26ti9fy2][/b:26ti9fy2][/center]