Coyote followed the noise as mistress had instructed. It sounded like a badger was cornered with all the screeching, so Coyote moved with the greatest stealth possible across the scrubland up towards a low rise.
Coyote saw Bluebird. It made his mouth water, but he knew that he was not supposed to eat Bluebird. Their mistresses were friends. They would be very unhappy if Coyote ate Bluebird.
Coyote raised his head over a tumbleweed for a better view. There were three humans standing over an open box next to a large hole which had apparently been recently dug. The humans looked like they had been fighting with the badger... or whatever it was in the box. Coyote smelled the blood of at least four humans. Each of the three he could see were visibly wounded in some way - scratch marks, bite marks, contusions… Two seemed to be mewling like baby pups. Coyote thought he was having double vision with the two weeping humans. Sure, all humans generally look alike, but these two particularly so.
The third human stood in the box with a crazed, maniacal look. Coyote could only compare the human’s look to a pack mate after an encounter with a rabid raccoon - perhaps he was caninomorphizing… Somewhere, out of view, in the depths of the box was the badger-sounding creature, still filled with spit and venom despite her apparent caged state.
The big, husky hairy-faced human standing in the box crouched down and then arose moments later squawking like a cackling raven, holding his hand up covered in blood, looking like a pup-proud bitch - his confidence fully erect. Then the human tucked back down into the box creating a ruckus of screams and grunts.
Coyote glanced over at Bluebird who glanced back obviously also confused by the habits of the human species. Regardless, the degree of distress emanating from the box was disturbing enough to even drive away Coyote’s ever-present thoughts of making a quick meal of Bluebird.
At length, the human male arose from the box. Despite his apparent dominance over the situation, he appeared to be dissatisfied and angry. He spit down into the box at the badger (or whatever) whimpering and restrained within.
The man stepped out of the box and picked up a plank of wood. He made a spiteful vocalization towards the creature in the box. The creature responded in a tone of voice that Coyote recognized. One that made his hair stand on end. He had heard the same tone before when his mistress coldly directed the earth’s elementals in a lingering and frightful attack upon her enemies.
The man simply sneered though, and threw the plank of wood down as a lid on the box. He then began banging systematically around the circumference of the lid with some sort of shiny rock. Finally, he screamed at his pack mates and the three began the process of lowering the box with the badger creature into the ground, pushing in the desert rocks and sand to fill the hole.
Bluebird flapped its wings and flew into the sky. Coyote, too, felt the tug of his mistress. He padded out across the dunes toward the canyon grotto.
0 - 0 - 7 - 03:00 - Joliette
The lock on the door rattled, but Joliette remained as she was on the cot of the cell with her robes pulled tight and the hood draped well over her head. She could hear Crystal and Auburn shuffling around on the other cot. The door opened and their “sister” Olga stepped in - the cell quickly being sealed once again.
Joliette pushed back her hood as Olga stepped over to kiss Crystal and Auburn as a quick greeting. She opened her arms wide and welcomed Olga to settle onto the cot next to her, hugging her tightly, always pulling her closer. Joliette felt Olga tremble.
“Keep it together, Olga,” Joliette whispered. “No tears until nighttime.”
“I know,” Olga nodded. “I love you, Joliette. I love you!”
“I love you, too,” Joliette whispered. “We’ll get through this…”
“Holy Mother! My legs have been stretched apart for so long, I’m going to be sore,” Olga said.
“All’s good?” Joliette asked, although she already knew the answer.
“Yes, of course. I’m still a virgin,” Olga sighed. “Kiss me. Make me forget all this.”
And so, Joliette did - and for quite some time. They let their lips slip together in soft light kisses, slowly laying down on the cot.
“Did you hear what Madam McNear said to the Queen’s Witch the other day?” Olga asked after a few minutes.
“The lesbian thing?” Joliette asked.
“Yeah…” Olga whispered. She closed her eyes and frowned.
“Oh, no, Olga. You don’t know that you’re the lesbian,” Joliette began stroking Olga’s hair to try to comfort her. “We just have never been around men and we are in love. We are bisexual.” Joliette lowered her voice even more, quickly glancing over towards the other cot where Crystal and Auburn were wrapped up in one another. “You’re not the lesbian.”
“No… no…” Olga whispered. “After I heard what McNear said, I knew with a certainty that I am the lesbian amongst us. I just know. I’m not attracted to men at all. They are a mystery to us all… a possibly exciting thing… but… I just don’t care. I’m not interested. I’m not attracted to their hairyness or their smell or their shape or their weight… I don’t even care about the whole penis thing. I… I just love you.”
“I love you too, but…” Joliette thought for a second. She was worried that Olga was indeed correct. Maybe Olga was the lesbian. “What if I had a penis? You would still love me, right?”
“Yes, but I also love the curve of your spine, the narrow of your waist when I hug you tightly to me… the swell of your hips… your feminine features… your face… your smell… your taste…”
“Olga…” Joliette hugged her tighter, uncertain what to say.
“Because I’m a lesbian, I’m going to be sold to the breeder. They’re going to inseminate me. I’ll just be a human incubator… a wet nurse… They’ll make me pump out kids and take them away from me to be raised in some slave farm. Just like us.” Olga’s body began to shake again and this time tears began to fall.
“Oh, Olga,” Joliette whispered. “You have just as much a chance being the West Virgin as any of us. Besides, have faith in the plan, Olga. We will end this. Have faith in McNear. And then you and I will be together. I promise.”
They heard footsteps in the corridor approaching their cell.
“Dry your tears, Olga,” Joliette whispered, sitting up and rearranging her robes.
There was once again the sound of metal rattling at the door. When it opened Madam McNear walked in the small cell. She looked at each of the young women briefly.
“Olga, get yourself together. This is not the time to cry,” McNear said. “Joliette, straighten out your robes. Your father wants to see you. He’s brought your brothers and sisters.”
Joliette stood up, frowning, brushing her at the wrinkles in her robes, passing a quick glance at Olga.
McNear snatched Joliette’s arm and shook her a bit. “This is it, Joliette. No fucking around. You need to drop your attitude. This is a chance to gain allies and we fucking need all that we can get!” She stared at Joliette with fire in her eyes. “Got it?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Joliette whispered and looked to the ground.
“You have a role to play. Fuck it up and we’ll all wish we were dead. Now, let’s go.”
Five minutes later, Joliette was kneeling on a cushion in a small windowless room. Her hood was pulled up and her arms were tucked behind her back. She heard voices coming down the hall. She recognized Nobleman Justice’s voice - that is, her father’s voice - and also, Morgana, the Queen’s witch.
She watched booted feet move into the room… seven people. A man moved up right in front of her. A thick, meaty hand slipped into view under the lip of her hood and cupped her chin, gently tilting her head up. Reflexively, Joliette kept her eyes to the floor, but as her head was pulled up, she was forced to look into the face of her father. She recognized some of his features as they had been handed down to her and it shocked her for a second. This stranger was too familiar and it shook her carefully woven cord of hate.
“Look at me, daughter,” Nobleman Justice said.
Joliette’s face remained perfectly emotionless despite her moment of turmoil.
“She’s pretty,” her father said glancing over toward an older woman - Morgana, obviously. Madam McNear was in the room standing motionless by the door. There were also four young adults in the room - two men and two women - her half-brothers and half-sisters.
“Julienne!” one of the brothers said. “She looks just like you!”
He paused for a moment. “That is if you weren’t so fat.”
The two brothers and a sister, the thinner of the two, chuckled. Even her father seemed to smile a little. The last sister, however, did not show any mirth. Her jaw became set and seemed to pulse with anger. Indeed, she was a bit more corpulent than the others, however, there was no doubt that her face matched Joliette’s.
“Yes, my lovely little piggy,” her father said to Julienne. “With a little exercise and a few less pastries, you would almost look exactly alike. Maybe Madame McNear would be willing to take you under her wing and squeeze some of the fat out of your ass.”
Joliette quickly glanced at Julienne. Her eyes were angled and filled with hatred.
“Come. Look at her face,” Nobleman Justice said. “I’d think you were twins if I weren’t certain that you were spat from different cunts.”
Julienne stepped up closer to Joliette, staring into her face. “Mother will find it interesting that you choose sluts that look so like her.” Then she snorted and spat into Joliette’s face.
Joliette closed her eyes for a second, but otherwise, she did not flinch. When she opened them again, the entire family was laughing. She felt the spittle slowly slide over her eyebrows and drip down onto her cheek.
She looked towards the door where McNear still stood.
“She looks so hot kneeling like that. Do you think she would suck my cock?” one of the brothers asked, laughing.
“Ooo! That’s gross, Jake!” the thinner sister said. “For two reasons. First of all, she’s your half sister. And, secondly, she looks too much like Piggy. It would be like having sex with her.” The sister slurred her words a little and as she pointed at Julienne, her arm wavered up and down.
“It’s a blow job, Jessica. Not sex. She’s not going to get pregnant,” the brother replied.
Nobleman Justice released Joliette’s chin and turned to Morgana. “Well? Can they?”
Morgana cackled at first, but then said, “Only use her mouth.”
Joliette let her face fall and reclaimed her submissive gaze at the floor. She had never seen, much less, sucked a man’s penis before. That, despite hours and hours working with simulators. She had kind of hoped that when she did it for the first time it would be in a more intimate and caring setting.
Morgana had further instructions. “She must remain clothed. Also, since she will be on display in front of all of Cowen at the Chastening Ceremony tomorrow, you mustn’t mark her face in any way. If you do, I will have her put to death and your family will get no money for whatever her fate may be. No sale to the breeders, no wife auction, or, most lucratively, no next West Virgin.”
“We shall be gentle with her, Madam Sorceress,” the Nobleman said with a chuckle.
“Bro, I’m after you,” the other brother said. “Maybe she’ll lick you one too, Jessica.”
“I’m out of here,” Julienne said and she turned and headed for the door.
Joliette’s face was a mask, though underneath she seethed. Could she really be put to death for something that she had no control over? What if the spit that was slowly dripping from her chin had been a bruising handprint instead?
Joliette never had a family. She had nurses and a pack of squabbling peers fighting for survival. She had her sisters in bondage and a strict Mistress training her in fitness and etiquette and technique. She had always longed for a real family. She envisioned family to be a soft, warm place - unconditional love. These people, though… her blood, her genetics… they were simply rude and cruel.
Joliette raised her head to watch Julienne shuffle past McNear and out the door. The first brother was loosening the fastening on his trousers and stepping towards Joliette.
McNear did not once look towards Joliette. She continued to stand emotionless by the door.
0 - 0 - 7 - 03:42 - Ileana
Nothing was breathing heavily when Ileana arrived into the sarcophagus. She heard Nothing pull against the strict chains that held her limbs so tautly splayed. Ileana knew from experience that her nourishment would continue to maintain the human’s musculature despite the enforced inactivity. Indeed, by feeding from Ileana, the human’s body basically became suspended in its current state - better yet, even healing past cuts and scars. So, the human’s movements were not due to cramping.
No. The movements were about a certain longing, which Ileana could confirm by the scent of the air in the woman’s grave. A scent of lust and sexual need. Why? Ileana wondered. For there was no way the human would be able to act on any impulse. Still, she obviously was incapable of controlling her thoughts sufficiently and they had apparently wandered toward desires of the flesh. It was possible that Ileana’s milk enhanced such desires, but that only seemed to happen when… Ileana refused to acknowledge that she was harboring any feelings for this unfortunate human… this Nothing… Certainly the inception of her desire was generated within in own deviant, slut slave, sex addled mind.
Ileana could see the patterns of heat pooling towards areas filled with sensitive pleasure nerves. She let her fingers brush along the soft swell of Nothing’s abdomen and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and a moan.
“Goddess…” Nothing said breathlessly. “I need you to… to touch me, please.”
Ileana smiled despite herself, suddenly feeling the urge to tease her pretty restrained supplicant. “Why?”
“Please. You sparked something in me and I can’t stop it. I need to cum,” Nothing moaned.
“We’ll see,” Ileana said. “First, my breasts are full and sore. I need you to nurse.”
Nothing nodded her head and opened her mouth, turning to the side as Ileana pressed her nipple against her lips in order to achieve the best angle. As Nothing suckled, Ileana let her fingertips trail up and down Nothing’s face and body. Occasionally, as her fingers drew past Nothing’s breasts she would pinch the hardened nipple and savor her ward’s gasp. She watched the heat spiral out from her head, running along the strands of Nothing’s hair.
For her part, Nothing nursed efficiently, yet occasionally dabbed Ileana’s nipple with the soft pad of her tongue before latching on again. She was obviously trying to entice Ileana and, to some extent, it was working. She felt a longing in her own sex which she pressed against the captive woman’s hip, gently grinding.
When Nothing had nursed from both sides, Ileana moved so she could kiss her properly slipping her tongue along the human’s to taste her lover. She slipped her knees between Nothing’s thighs and pressed outward, though there was so little give due to the chains holding the human’s ankles. Still, she arched her back and rubbed her sex against Nothing’s listening to her quiet moans and her lustful gasps for air.
“Mmm, Nothing, you’ve gotten me all worked up,” Ileana breathed into her lover’s mouth.
“Good,” Nothing whispered back. “Me too, my Goddess.”
Ileana let her right hand trail down Nothing’s abdomen lifting it from the helpless human just as she brushed her clit. She lifted her hand to her own sex and started masturbating herself. Every once in a while as she rubbed her own clitoris, Ileana let her knuckles brush against Nothing’s. Ileana moaned with abandon, enjoying her own pleasure. And below her, Nothing was breathing heavy with need and her moans had a certain degree of begging that elevated Ileana’s ecstacy all the more.
“Goddess… Please…” Nothing moaned desperately raising her hips - what little she could - seeking more firm friction from Ileana’s hand. Ileana soaked herself in the power she had over the human woman, allowing it to lift herself into ecstasy. Soon, she was crying out into the darkness of Nothing’s grave, collapsing on top of Nothing’s body. The product of her desire was percolating from within drenching not only her sex, but also draining across Nothing’s crotch.
For a moment, Ileana lay atop Nothing catching her breath, basking in the muffled mewling pleas floating up from Nothing’s breathy voice. “I need to cum… Goddess, I need to cum…”
“Shhh…” Ileana whispered and she slithered down the chained woman’s body, gently nestling her face between Nothing’s legs. She struck forth her tongue with tiny licks here and there along Nothing’s inner thighs. Occasionally dabbling within the folds of Nothing’s sex but never with continuity to take the contact anywhere much. “Calm yourself, slave. I need to absorb your wastes.”
“No! Please! I could just get off real quick!”
“Are you making demands of your Goddess?” Ileana asked.
“No! Of course not. No!” Nothing’s body flexed and shuddered in frustration. “My orgasm is my offering.”
Ileana chuckled. “My gift to you is the gift of life. So first, pee.” She opened her mouth wide and pressed it around the human woman’s sex, waiting patiently, motionless.
It took Nothing a little while to settle down, but eventually she was able to let go. She spilled her wastes into her grave keeper. After she was done, Ileana began to slowly stroke her tongue up and down the human’s sex, causing her to shudder and moan again.
“Yes…” Nothing said as links of chain squeaked against each other twisting slightly, yet never yielding. “Yesss…”
Ileana sat up suddenly. “I’ve enjoyed your disposition this visit, Nothing. You have been a very good suitress.” She lowered her mouth once again, brushing her tongue against the human’s engorged clit.
“Oh, yesss…”
“Oh, no,” Ileana responded, sitting up once more. “Keep this disposition during our future visits and you will gain the reward you desire.” Ileana began to retreat towards the footboard of the sarcophagus into the portal. “But not right now. Until then make sure that I, and only I, am your focus.”
And she slipped through the portal like water poured from a bottle leaving the human crying in frustration and desire.
0 - 0 - 7 - 03:54 - Bethesda
Bluebird flew in the window, whistling loudly. Bethesda quickly went to the cabinet and pulled out a small plate of seeds which she placed on the window sill.
“Oh, my!” she mumbled as Bluebird unleashed a diatribe of animated chirping between pecks at the pile of seed. “Well…” she breathed at last. “This is unfortunate, but foretold by the Fates…”
She waddled over to her cabinet of dolls and picked up a pair of gardening gloves. After donning the gloves she carefully extracted a waxen pair: one covered in twigs and leaves, the second, a bit translucent with blood-red swirls embedded within. The two dolls were bound together with a single loop of red yarn. She carried the pair of dolls to the kitchen table and lay them down. Next she returned to cabinet and pulled out a knife, a wooden box and a ceramic urn.
Bluebird continued pecking at the feed, occasionally chirping, as Bethesda settled back at the table. She used the knife to cut the yarn binding the two dolls together and gently lifted the translucent one.
“Remember how this one burned me with her poison?” Bethesda said to Bluebird. “She was a real warrior. Lethal. She will be a great loss, I guess… But that is the way of the world.”
Bluebird raked its beak back and forth through the pile of seed littering the area around the plate.
Bethesda opened the box and carefully lay the translucent wax doll inside, afterwards removing her gloves. She grabbed a pinch of ashes from the ceramic urn and sprinkled them inside before closing the lid. Next she picked up the second doll littered with twigs and the remnants of the frayed red yarn and shoved the doll back into its cubby in the cabinet.
Bethesda looked at the clock. “I guess it’s time to check,” she said.
She pulled a second wooden box identical to the one she had just used to hold the translucent doll. As soon as she lifted it she quickly needed her second hand to keep the box steady. “Mmm hmm! Just what I thought!”
She set the box down on the table and pulled open the lid. “Yep.”
She set a jug half-filled with water on the table and unstoppered it. Next, she carefully tilted the second wooden box over the mouth of the jug causing a stream of water to pour from within. After all the water had been transferred into the jug, she pulled out a waxen figure with an array of metal rings randomly impaled throughout.
She returned to the cabinet and located a small journal with a bit of coal attached to it. After flipping to an appropriate page she looked at the clock once more and then added a new entry:
“10/8 16:52 - Full”
“17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22” Bethesda counted out six fingers. Then she made a mark on the glass cover of her clock with the piece of coal at the 10:45 mark.
Finally, Bethesda carefully replaced the journal on the shelf. She replaced the ringed waxen figure into its box along with a pinch of ash and put the box back in the cabinet. She cleaned up the ceramic urn and the knife. Finally, she picked up the last box into which the translucent doll had been placed. “Strange,” she said.
Bluebird tilted its head and let out a squawk.
Bethesda shook the box. Then she opened the lid and looked inside. “Hmmm…” She looked under the table and around the floor of the kitchen. “Where did that little…?”
Finally she looked through the cubbies in the cabinet and stopped suddenly with a quick inhale of breath. “How the…?”
She donned her gloves again and extracted a pair of waxen dolls. It was the one with the twigs embedded in it. However, it was now attached once again to the translucent doll with the red swirls by three loops of securely knotted red yarn.
Bethesda turned towards one of the closed doors leading from the kitchen. “Lucy!”