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* This story can (and probably does) contain one or more of the following (bet *
* your last nickel on "more"): Incest, pedophilia, watersports, extreme female *
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                              THE POISON CHRONICLES
                             Chapter Four: Alliances
                                       by
                          Forbidden Fantasy Storyteller



        I had to admit it--the Delphi Project was a beautiful place, and very
well planned.  I like good planning.  I walked through what my guide called the
Gathering Lawn, rather surprised, though pleasantly so, at all the people.
There were dozens, and it wasn't even near meal time.  Mostly men, chatting and
such, and there were a few women here and there, either serving the men or
standing quietly nearby to be called on.

        What I found most interesting were the sundry ways the females were
decorated.  Some were pierced more than most punk rockers I'd seen, others
covered nearly head-to-toe in tattoos, others with brands, others still with
some combination thereof.

        I'd met "the Pythia", though only because she and her daughters were on
their way somewhere else.  THAT was an interesting few minutes.  I also had more
men than I could remember (well, okay, not really, but you know what I mean)
shake my hand, ask me how I liked the place so far, all of the "welcome wagon"
comments and questions.

        "Quite a place, this Project of yours," I commented to my guide, letting
my appreciation color my tone.

        "Well, we certainly do enjoy it, hmm?  Tell me, what do you think as you
look out at all these men, living as they desire?"  My companion eyed me with
that smile of his that never seemed to leave his face.  For all that he did
smile, though, it always seemed sincere.

        I arched my brow in thought as I took another look.  What could I say?
I saw men--happy.  Most were tired from working hard all day, but even through
that tiredness I saw little but smiles and joviality.  Even the females seemed
content, perhaps happy to live in a place where they could serve their men
openly, without fear of being taken from their Masters.  That'd be something.

        Finally I turned back to my guide, saying, "I see men who are content
with their lives, who earn their way through honest work, and enjoy being able
to live according to their beliefs."

        That made the man smile wider, looking rather pleased with my response.
"What do you think of our offer, then?"

        They'd made me the same offer that they made these very men--live here
in peace, working on the Project somewhere, and be allowed to live however I
wanted.  That would have been fine--but I wasn't content to keep a small family
in a small (compared to what I'd be leaving) cabin, subject to the directions of
others.  That's just not my style.

        "I think it's a great offer--but not for me.  I am a leader of men, not
a follower.  I give orders and directions, not take them."  I flashed a smile at
my guide and lightly clapped his shoulder.  "I'll look around some more, if you
don't mind--it seems like the sort of place I could support, but not join."

        "Ah, fair enough, fair enough," replied the guide, still smiling though
looking decidedly disappointed.  I realized that, almost irrationally, I liked
him.  He was a decent sort, one of the few who weren't just hairless monkeys.

        He took me to a building erroneously named the Rec Room, to a small bar-
slash-lounge.  There were only a few men there at that moment, quietly reading
novels.  My guide slid behind the bar and asked me what I wanted to drink.  I
waved him off but he insisted, so I chuckled and asked for seltzer water.

        "Water?" he replied, affecting a Wild West accent with incredulity in
it.  "You want water, you go dunk your head in the horse trough.  Here, we serve
WHISKEY."  He beamed a grin at me--then it slowly faded as he realized I hadn't
the foggiest idea what he was going on about.  "'Back to the Future Part Three'?
No?  Ah.  Well, never mind then."  He chuckled to--or perhaps at--himself then
pulled out a bottle of root beer and popped the top for me.

        I found myself chuckling as I picked up the bottle and took a sip.  I
looked at him for a moment, deciding how to proceed.  Just because I wouldn't
fit into his Project didn't mean the Project and I couldn't be of use to each
other.

        "You know," I started at last, "we could still be useful to each other.
I've seen some glaring security holes I could help your people patch."  That
caught his attention, and he quirked a brow back at me as he poured himself some
bourbon.  He motioned for me to continue, so I pulled out some folded pieces of
paper and slid them across the bar to him.  "You think your people can help me
with those?"

        My guide unfolded the papers and peered at them thoughtfully.  After he
was done he folded them back up and put them on the bar.  "Maybe.  Probably.
Dare I ask why you need these things?"

        "You may dare to ask, though I can dare to say that it's my own
business."  I lifted my brows at him, then took another sip of the root beer.

        "You do have an odd shopping list there, Tobias."

        "Call me Toby."

        "Alright, Toby.  Anyway, these aren't going to be easy.  We have the
people for them, but we're not going to hurt animals needlessly."

        "Of course not.  Nor would I ask you to.  But there have to be old ones
about to die somewhere, right?"

        He pursed his lips and swished the alcohol around in his glass, gazing
at it thoughtfully.  "Maybe," he said after a few moments.  "Are you so sure our
security needs fixing?"

        "Tell you what.  I'll find you sometime this next week.  You won't know
when it will be or where I'll find you, but find you I will.  If I can do that,
I'd say you have some serious problems."

        He laughed brightly, lifting his glass in a toast, and I smiled as I
clinked my bottle against that glass.

        The conversation turned more toward chit-chat, and when we finished our
drinks he escorted me out again, good-naturedly prodding me about giving the
thought of living in the Project a second chance.  I really liked him, I found.
He was a decent sort, and there were too few of those in the world.

        Three nights later, I was creeping up to the fence around the Project.
My symbiote and I decided against anything but basic black for this venture, to
keep the chances of being seen at a minimum.

        I waited patiently until a guard-and-dog team passed.  The German
Shepherd's ear flicked in my direction, but apparently it either didn't realize
I was there or had decided I wasn't a threat.  After spending a moment to make
sure they were off a ways, I backed up a few paces, then ran and leapt over the
fence, landing silently in a crouch.  I strained my heightened senses, and was
convinced I went unnoticed.

        Trekking over land was foolish; while I might be able to avoid all of
the patrols, it was too risky.  So I exploited the hole in their security.
Though, to be fair, it was one they had never had cause to even ponder before.
I wasn't cheating, not really.  Just like counting cards in Las Vegas isn't
TECHNICALLY cheating.

        Quietly I climbed the nearest pine tree, moving inch by inch to minimize
the noise.  I had only made it up about four yards when another patrol passed
right beneath me.  I dared not even breathe as I waited, eyes closed so I could
sense the world as my symbiote did.

        It's--disorienting if you're not used to it.  My symbiote is an alien
creature, living in hosts almost like a parasite.  Though, it's called a
symbiote for a reason--it helps its host, just as its host provides shelter and
food.  It perceived the world through chemical analysis--basically, scent and
taste, to use human analogies.

        The dog stopped, and its human companion reached slowly toward a walkie-
talkie.  I could sense the dog sniffing the air--then it apparently decided
there was nothing to find, so urged its human partner onward.

        Breathing softly in relief, I continued my climb.  I leapt from tree to
tree, each time stopping and hugging the bark damp from morning mist.  It took
almost an hour, but I finally got to the perimeter of the "inner court" section
of the Project.

        Now came the harder part.  I knew where the guide lived, but getting
there meant crossing open land--which was lit by floodlights.  I sat in the tree
and looked around, pondering and planning.

        I noticed that there were places where the floodlights didn't fully
illuminate.  The clinic--the nearest building to me--was at just the right angle
to cast a long shadow.  From its edge, it was all of forty yards to the shadow
of the Rec Room.  Continuing on in such fashion, I could get to the guide's
humble cabin without being in the light more than necessary.  Feeling confident
about the endeavor, I waited for the next patrol then climbed down to the
ground.

        I dashed out of the trees; if I had been seen, they would have seen only
a black, humanoid blur.  I skidded in the grass behind the clinic, crouching and
peering around, straining my vision and my hearing.  I saw a dog-less patroller,
and waited until I was sure he was nowhere nearby.

        In such fashion, running and waiting, running and waiting, running and
waiting, I managed to get to the guide's cabin.  It was a modest building, one
story tall but a bit on the long side.  I hunkered down against the ground and
speed-crawled to the back door.  A tendril slipped between the screen door and
the door jam, silently unlatching it.

        Careful to make no sound, I entered the cabin.  I wasn't going to go too
far in, mind, so as I didn't seem overly rude.  Since the the back of the house
between the kitchen and the back door was a sitting area, I was simply going to
wait there.

        I snuck over to the wicker chair and was just about to sit down--when I
realized I wasn't alone.  Spinning around, I saw the guide, smiling at me.

        "Good job, I must say," he said jovially, reaching out to flick the
light switch on the wall.  I smiled as I pulled my "mask" off of my face, as one
would pull off a normal, non-sentient piece of cloth.  As long as I kept it in
my hand or otherwise touching me, it would be fine.

        "How'd you know?"

        "Only logical way you could get in would be above the patrols.  We have
everything else sewn up tight.  And as for how I knew you'd be here, now--well.
I didn't."  He grinned and beckoned me into the kitchen.  "I was actually
coming in from my morning constitutional."

        "At three in the morning?"

        He shrugged nonchalantly, keeping that smile.  "I like the quiet."

        His friendly nature never wavered, and I had to shake my head and hide a
chuckle.  At least I made my point.

        He had me sit at the small dining table while he poured us each a glass
of milk.  "I have to say," he commented as he set my glass before me before
sitting across from me, "I didn't expect it to be THAT easy.  Let me guess--
blind spots in the floodlight system?"

        I smiled and nodded.  More and more, I liked him.  Sharp as a tack and
not hesitant about admitting a flaw in a system of his.

        "Well, I'll bring it up at the next meeting."  He paused to take a sip 
of milk, eyeing me over the rim of his tumbler.  When he set it back on the
table, he added, "It would help to have you, there, you know.  I mean, I can
guess THAT you came in over their heads, but I don't have the first clue how you
managed to do it.  And if we can't figure out how you did it, it can happen
again--only next time not as a test."

        "I--doubt that.  I'm nearly unique," I said, leaning back in the chair.

        "So?  What one man can accomplish through skill, another can with
talent, and a third with blind luck."

        "You have a point."

        "Good.  Now, then, if I can perhaps bribe you to make an appearance..."
He grinned and pulled out a small notepad from the breast pocket of his
overshirt.  He tore of the top three pages and set them down next to my glass.
"That's all I've found so far, but we can get you the access.  Those were the
easy ones, so don't get your hopes up."

        I picked up the small sheets of paper and scanned them, nodding once to
myself.  I'd figured as much, but at least it was a start.  I tucked the papers
into a pocket the symbiote made and nodded my thanks.  "Alright, I'll be there.
I'll bring a couple members of my family, make a day of it," I said, smiling.

        That made the guide beam a grin.  "Wonderful."

        We set the date, I finished my milk, thanked him, then took my leave.
For ease and so he could relax, I snuck back out instead of having him escort me
to the gate.  It was the least I could do.

        By the morning I returned to my mansion in Montecito, Santa Barbara,
California, I'd been gone five days.  And I have to say I was glad to be back.
I'm not much of a homebody, but it's comforting to be in one's home, able to
dress--or undress--as one pleases, surrounded by one's chattel.  As soon as I
walked in the front door, my favored pet--a darling girl almost eleven years
old--raced through the entrance hall and literally leapt into my arms.

        "Master-Master-Master-Master!  You're home!" she squealed, covering my
face in kisses.  I laughed as I hugged her.  She was so beautiful--dark hair,
green eyes, a slender but rounding body--and of course the additions.  A brand
of a stylized phoenix emerging from flames on her left hip, a barbed whip on her
right, and a tiger's head on her lower back.  Silver hoops through her nipples,
studs around her navel, two hoops through her clit and numerous ones in her
pussy lips.  She was an achingly-beautiful child.

        "I'm happy to see you, too, cunt.  Have you been a good girl?"

        My Queen strode into the entrance hall, chuckling.  "Yes she has.  She
even has a surprise for you, but we convinced her to wait until you'd had time
to rest."

        I pulled Scourge to me with my free hand, kissing her passionately as I
squeezed her ass under the skirt that hid absolutely nothing.  Since I didn't
want my precious pet to feel left out, I swiftly brought her lips to mine for a
kiss with no less desire and passion.

        The child squirmed in delight, her tongue eagerly dancing with mine.
Scourge chuckled and rubbed my back, then we retired to my bedroom.  My trio of
sluts--Horse Slut, Dog Slut, and Baby Maker--squealed as loudly as my favored
pet had.

        The Sluts arched their backs straight as they knelt against the wall
the chains that were attached to their collars were connected to, swishing their
hips to make their "tails" wag in happiness.  Baby Maker, likely merely days
from giving me my son, was unable to do much but put her hand against the mesh
of her cage.  I petted them all in turn, then gratefully sank onto my bed.

        Scourge slid onto the bed with grace, kissing my forehead as my favored
pet snuggled against my side, kissing my chest and arm.  I told them about the
trip, about going back to discuss the security holes.  Scourge and I exchanged a
"look".  There was more to say, but I'd tell her privately, later.  It was to be
a surprise for my pets, so obviously I didn't want them to hear just yet.

        When I was done, Scourge told me what I missed, pointedly leaving out
details that may reference this surprise my favored cunt had in store for me,
but by the twinkle in my Queen's eye I was sure I would love it.  I was quite
content to just lie there and relax, but my curiosity was starting to win out.
My symbiote and I exchanged ideas on what the surprise might be.  Turned out
neither of us were right, and both of us were glad for that.

        When I couldn't stave off my curiosity any longer, I sat up and squeezed
my pet's breast firmly, saying, "Alright, then, slut, show me what you're
obviously just DYING to show me."  She beamed and grabbed my hand, urging me to
my feet.

        I was led out into the back, and Scourge managed to get my pet out of
the way as Agrippa tackled me.  He was still a young tiger, but he was strong.
And I was tired from my journey and from being away from home so long.  As it is
said, I went ass over teakettle, ending up flopped onto my back with Agrippa
standing over me, looking at me with a mixture of that smugness only felines can
achieve and pleasure at my having returned.

        "I missed you, too, you big oaf," I muttered, reaching up with both
hands to scruff his cheeks.  He leaned down to bump his forehead against mine,
and only after huffing his deer-scented breath in my face did he decide I could
get up.  Laughing, I noogied Agrippa then followed my pet.

        She led me to the stables, specifically to the small room built a few
dozen yards away designed for my pets to be mounted by the steeds, and asked me
to wait there.  I arched a brow in curiosity, but she only giggled and ran out.
Scourge grinned and crossed her arms under her breasts, saying nothing--but
there was a delightfully-devious look in her eye.

        I tried giving her a stern look, but I ended up breaking out in laughter
at the attempt.  Scourge came over and kissed my cheek, murmuring, "Trust us,
our Lord, you will love this surprise."

        Something about the way she said that caught my attention.  "THIS
surprise?  There's more than one?"  She adopted a "cute and innocent" look which
was about as truthful as if I tried to pretend I could shit rainbows.
Thankfully--for Scourge, not for me--I was kept from pursuing it as my pet
opened the door wide enough to allow her to lead in Prince, the Arabian I'd
given to her before she became my pet and relinquished ownership of everything
to me.

        I suddenly had a few guesses as to what this surprise was, especially
since I noticed the lack of the specially-built swinging cot-like contraption.
I'd had it built so pets new to fucking horses would have an easier time
learning.

        Though she had to stand on the tips of her toes, she managed to tie
Prince's reins off, and managed to stay out of the way as he automatically
reared up to grab onto the "dummy mare".  With rather fluid grace, she slipped
under the "dummy mare" and reached up to lovingly take Prince's extending cock
in her small hands.

        Beside me, Scourge beamed in pride for her, since in truth she was just
as much Scourge's pet as mine, and certainly made the child know she cared for
her no less than I did.

        I was pleasantly surprised--actually shocked--as our pet spread her legs
and leaned back to plant a hand on the ground.  She started rubbing the horse's
cock against her pussy, starting to gasp softly.  The rings in her cunt made an
enjoyable tinkling sound as that ebony cock-head was run through them.

        Suddenly she flashed me a wanton smile, then arched her hips up as she
pushed the cock head into her.  Prince started to buck, and my pet let go to put
her other hand back and on the ground.  Eyes closing, she thrust her hips upward
as Prince thrust forward, mostly keeping the rhythm.

        To say I was surprised would be an understatement.  She had obviously
worked hard to get her cunt able to take the horse, and I've seen enough
attempts to know that it wasn't easy without the cot--but she was managing.  She
had to reach up to keep him in her now and then, but for ELEVEN years old, she
was doing fantastically.

        I could see the horse-seed start to rush from her pussy, but she showed
no signs of slowing.  Panting as much from pleasure as the exertion, she all but
threw her hips upward to fuck the horse.

        A flood of horse-come started spurting out from between the child's
pussy and the horse's cock, much to my delight, she didn't stop.  Only when the
flood had become a trickle and Prince finally started pulling back did she let
his cock slip from her.

        Even though she must have been tired--and likely sore to boot--she
nimbly scoot out of the way as Prince backed of of the dummy and heaved himself
to the ground.  Panting, she started to go for the reins, but I stopped her so I
could pick her up and cradle her in my arms.  I asked Scourge if she'd take
Prince back and she nodded, smiling, pausing to kiss our pet's lips before
moving off.

        "How did you manage to do that?" I asked the pet as I took her out of
the shed.

        "I kept trying, and Horse Slut--" she paused to yawn, "she showed me how
to put my hands on the ground."  She smiled up at me as she nuzzled into my
chest.

        "I'm proud of you, pet," I whispered, brushing a kiss to her brow.  And
I was.  I was pleased at the devotion to me it took to do that.  As Scourge
joined us and slipped an arm through mine, I looked at her, smiling, and said,
"I think she deserves a reward, hmm?"

        Scourge grinned at that, reaching over with her free hand to pinch one
of her pierced nipples.  "We think that's a great idea.  The little slut worked
so hard, after all."

        I took her to the veranda and lay her in a lounge chair.  As Agrippa
came up for to pester us for scritchings, I looked at Scourge to say, "What do
you think, my Queen?  I was thinking adding more tattoos, maybe extend the whip
down over her neck."

        Scourge tilted her head a bit, considering our pet.  "Hmm.  What about
another brand?  We think she would look adorable with a horse-head on her little
ass.  Maybe give her a record of every animal she's fucked."

        I chuckled, lifting my brows.  "Then she'll have to get under Agrippa
soon, or make a liar out of herself."  The pet giggled at that, and Scourge
grinned.

        "That's not a bad idea..." she murmured, looking to me with one of her
unique expressions.  Lust mixing with sadism mixing with love.

        "He's too young, yet," I pointed out, and immediately I regretted it
since that made her pout.  I pulled her against me and kissed her shoulder.
"Let's see what HE thinks of it.  It's HIS cock, after all.  Fair enough?"  She
smiled anew, nodding.

        In most mammalian species, regardless of when an individual sexually
matures, often before then they display interest and will give it the good old,
college try.  Humans aren't the only one who can feel pleasure from having their
genitals played with well before they're able to reproduce, after all.  Humans
aren't the only ones by FAR.

        "Okay, good.  Let's let her get her rest so she can hopefully give
herself to him fully."  That made my Queen's smile erupt into a grin, and she
all but starting singing.  I chuckled and shook my head, having her come with me
to the workshop.

        As we walked, I had her tell me about what they did while I was gone,
and I needled her about my girls missing me to snuggle between them at night.
Then she pointed out that our pet was stuffed with cock as often as before I'd
left, and I narrowed my eyes as I cast a sideways glance at her.  I couldn't
hide the grin, however, and that made her laugh.  I tried to act like her
symbiote forming a black cock-like dildo was odd to me, even though it really
wasn't.  One of those "things" in our relationship, I suppose.

        When we got into the workshop, I started rummaging around for old bits
of leather.  Male tigers bite down on the neck of their partners when mating,
which was fine when their partners are tigers with thick fur and tough skin.
Not so fine when their partners are girls who have no protection whatsoever.

        I started working on a small tunic, of sorts, or more like a poncho.
Something she could easily slip on and off and afford her neck protection.
Working with leather--especially old leather--is difficult.  On the other hand,
my natural strength was augmented by my symbiote, and if I needed more hands, I
could make do with more tentacles.  While not terribly strong, they would help
to whatever small degree.

        While I measured the pieces and marked them for cutting, Scourge said,
"Marie is having difficulty at Thatcher-Greggs."

        I was still getting used to that sort of comment.  When my symbiote
spawned, it had to do directly into a host, which was contrary to the usual way
the species does things.  Normally, the species doesn't do that if it can be at
all avoided, but here on Earth it needed Marie to survive.

        Being so young, however, it lacked the ability to keep its own
personality separate from Marie's, and as such they blended, becoming a somewhat
new person, neither fully Marie nor fully symbiote.  The underlying personality
traits of each were still there, but now in one entity.

        Marie's ruthlessness, acumen, and intelligence mixed with the symbiote's
disdain for humanity, experience inherited from its "father", and its own
intellect.  All things considered, it was a mixture that seemed to be the best
of both, and the result was certainly interesting, even enticing.

        The result was a woman of unbridled sensuality and bloodlust, for whom
bloody carnage was an aphrodisiac.  Marie's sensuality was muted, subtle, a tool
as much as its own end.  Scourge's was raw, becoming blatant sexuality.
Obviously, I wasn't really going to complain.  In a way, she really was a woman
after my own heart.  The flip-side to me, really.

        On the other hand, it still took some getting used to, seeing a woman
refer to herself in the plural.  Even though I had my own, not terribly
dissimilar, experiences with my symbiote, it was still odd, as an observer.  A
bit contradictory, perhaps, but still.

        I'd had some experience with what went on in her mind, as sex with
Scourge really was closer to love-making, and thanks to the symbiotes we could
share our minds and emotions as much as we shared our bodies.  I had FELT the
way the personalities of Marie and the symbiote acted completely together.
Think of all the films with a character possessed by an alien or spirit or
whatever, speaking with two voices at the same time, and you get an idea of what
her mind is like.

        My symbiote did the mental equivalent of giving me a sound shake, to
turn my attention back to Scourge.

        "...would have taken over April's position," she was saying.
Thankfully, my symbiote filled in the name I'd missed.  Someone named Heather
Rubens.  "She's trying to uncover all that led up to Thatcher-Greggs' absorption
of her company."

        As I started cutting the leather, I thought about that.  After a moment,
I said, "And you can't just kill her; too many questions would be raised."  We
covered up the death of April.  Another death, no matter the apparent cause, so
soon would raise more questions than I felt comfortable with.

        Scourge inclined her head, smiling at me.  "Exactly.  She is also
surrounded by guards at nearly every moment, so simply taking her would cause
another endless investigation."

        I pondered, growing silent.  The situation presented its own
challenges, but challenges aren't to be shied away from.  I'd intended on
keeping to my informal oath against creating more "drones" for my family; they
served their purpose, but as my favored pet showed, the hunt and chase made
locking a collar about their throat all the more enjoyable.  By that time they
will WANT the collar, completely on their own, without their will being altered.

        I had just finished sewing the leather into a crude ring when I paused
to look at Scourge.  As intelligent as she was, she was decidedly more prone to
physically dealing with problems, preferring to use her own two hands though
would use agents if need be.  However, here was not a situation that called for
such things.  What was needed was a more subtle approach.

        "What do you know about her?" I asked, wiping my forehead with the back
of my hand.  "Anything you can use against her?"

        Scourge toyed with the edge of the ring as she spoke.  "We DO have a
dossier on her, but there's not much in her personal life we've uncovered that
she would not want publicly known."

        I nodded at that, thoughtful.  So she either had few skeletons in her
closet, or knew how to bury them.  Sounded like a good challenge, to me.  I
grinned at her, then, and as I turned back to my work, I said, "I think I can
come up with some way to help with that problem."

        I already had a few ideas, but I'd need to let them simmer, let my
symbiote help me work out the details.  I don't like to go into a situation with
only half of a plan, but sometimes I need to just sit back and let the plans
start to form themselves.

        My Queen smiled, reaching out to stroke my back as I worked.  She peered
over my shoulder, watching as the leather was worked, though stayed quiet.
Normally I don't like people watching me over my shoulder, especially done so
literally, but if I couldn't share with my Queen, I'd be a sad sort, wouldn't
you say?  Besides, she knew not to constantly interrupt the work, so it was
easier to--not ignore her presence, necessarily, but accept it.  It was
something I even started to enjoy, that quiet presence and support.

        By the time I was done, it was time for dinner.  I'd fashioned a decent
collar, of sorts.  It could be easily fastened around her neck with leather
thongs, and protect her neck and shoulders well enough.  The edges were folded
over and sewn, so there wouldn't be any undue chafing.  Similarly, the interior
would, eventually, be lined with rabbit fur, to be rather comfortable.  It would
be overly warm in the Summer, but that would be a bridge we crossed once we got
to it.

        I set the collar aside for the time being, so my Queen and I could head
back to the mansion.  Agrippa met us at the door, nuzzling and bumping into me
and all but begging for attention.  I kept Scourge's hand in one of mine, the
other stretched to scritch behind the tiger cub's ears.

        As we walked I pondered.  This Rubens woman would have taken over as
C.E.O. of Fenworth Corporation, April Sweeney's company pre-absorption by
Thatcher-Greggs.  She couldn't have been happy about her company being taken
over, and if she had any sort of C.E.O.-worthy intellect, she would have had to
guess something was wrong about April's disappearance.

        By the time dinner was through, I had--not so much a plan, as much as a
list of things to help me formulate a plan.  I made this list and gave it to
Scourge, who would purchase the items through subsidiaries of T.G.I.
Individually, each item wouldn't raise eyebrows; most were geeky technological
"toys".  But the amount of things I needed would raise more than eyebrows if
they were bought together.

        It would take weeks and plenty of record-related run-arounds, but I'd
have them soon enough.  In the meantime, I would dig up everything I could on
Rubens, and see what I could amass for my little "gift" to my pets.  The "gift"
couldn't be given to all of them, lamentably, but that couldn't be helped.  The
symbiotes are, as I've said before, centuries beyond current understanding of
medical science, but even they have limits.

        After dinner I played with Agrippa, noting how his play was starting to
get rougher, and he was starting to be more concerned with stalking and pouncing
than tumbling around like a true cub.  Adult tigers tend to hunt that way, since
they don't have the stamina to chase prey down.  This rather pleased me, as it
meant that he really was learning how to be an adult tiger, and I didn't have to
kill his prey for him on our "tutorial hunts", as I liked to think of them.

        I'd probably still have to wound the deer or elk for him, but he could
finish it off himself.  I resolved to see about doing just that on our next
hunt together, which would take place the following day.

        Once he was all played-out (which took a couple of hours; it might have
been misleading to note they didn't have the stamina for an extended run.  That
didn't mean even as young as he was he didn't have the stamina to play
continuously and knock me around), I headed back in to call it an early night.

        After asking my Swede were my Queen and favored pet were, I was directed
upstairs, to my bedroom.  The scene I found waiting for me made me adore Scourge
even more.  She knew that I would want to enjoy her and our pet, and they both
were laying on the bed, Scourge herself nude.  She was stroking our pet's ring-
studded pussy, and even from the door I could sense both female's growing
excitement.

        Our pet would enter puberty soon, within months according to the
symbiote bit we kept inside her (only to help her health; her personality
remained unaltered), so she was starting to feel true sexual excitement.  As
expected, this made her want to be used all the more, since she was not left
wanting.

        My royal attire melted into my body, and my cock hardened as I watched
the child, who smiled at me and spread her legs.  Scourge smiled at me, as well,
a look more of wanton lust.  "She's been waiting for her Master to fill her for
so long..." whispered my Queen as I eased onto the bed.

        "She shouldn't wait much longer, then, hmm?" I replied, my voice just as
soft.  I knelt between the child's thighs, stroking them with my hands.  I was
quite pleased at the way her skin flushed, and I could even hear the faintest
tinkling from her cunt-rings as her pussy swelled with blood.

        Scourge's hand moved upward, fingers gliding along her small body to
lightly cup her chin and turn her face.  She lowered her head to the child,
kissing her deeply.  My cock started to ache at the display, and it took a not-
inconsiderable amount of willpower to keep myself from mounting either of them
right then and there.  Five days is a long time, when you're used to having
pussy whenever you want it.

        As Scourge finally pulled back, panting softly, I leaned back to rest on
my heels, then lightly tapped my thighs.  The pet reacted instantly, a testament
to her unrestrained devotion.  She got to her hands and knees, facing away from
me, and scooted back until the head of my cock was nestled right against those
beautiful-adorned folds.

        At my nod, she pushed backward, eyes closing.  I hissed softly, kneeling
there as she started fucking me with sincere desire to please.  I tilted my head
back and closed my eyes as well, gasping softly at the feel of her still-tight
pussy wrapped around me.  I'd done nothing to loosen her, to stretch her, as I
wanted her as tight as possible for as long as possible.

        I felt movement on the bed, and without looking I knew it was Scourge,
repositioning herself.  After a few moments, there came the unmistakable sound
of our pet suckling and licking her pussy.  Both of us were able to simply relax
and enjoy the child, as she worked her hardest to please us both.

        I felt Scourge's tendrils wrap around me, stroking my sides and back
most lovingly, and it caused me to smile, though I'm sure the effect was
distorted.  My symbiote extended tendrils of its own, some to slide over and
around our pet, stroking the young, tender flesh and meet up with more of
Scourge's; others extended to Scourge herself, to stroke and squeeze her
breasts, to tweak and tug on her nipples.

        Where the tendrils met, there was that wonderful sensation of minds
being shared, sensations.  There soon came that time of loss of self; or,
perhaps more accurately, I no longer became sure of what *I* felt, what my
symbiote felt, and what Scourge felt.  It all became a mixture, a whirlpool of
pleasure that I certainly didn't want to end.

        I could feel my symbiote's tentacles stroking our pet, tugging on her
nipple rings, as if they were my own hands, just as I could feel her speed her
movements.  She was gasping into my Queen's pussy as she shoved her hips back
onto my cock, faster and faster.

        My Queen was the first; I could FEEL the orgasm suddenly rip through
her, as she screamed and bucked under our pet.  My own was the second, surging
through me and making me choke out a squeaked groan, the sensations intensified
by my Queen.  Our pet was allowed to be the third, a near-"full" orgasm
thundering through her small body.

        It was larger in force than any other child her age would feel, aided
by the bond between her Queen and King, but soon it would become even more
powerful.

        We ended up a sweaty, gasping heap, with our pet laying on her side
between Scourge and myself.  I heard soft whimpering and opened my eyes, looking
at the Sluts chained to the far wall.  I could see the glistening of their
pussies; oh, how they wanted release so badly.

        I looked over to Scourge, who was watching the two Sluts with desire
creeping back into her face.  "Which one do you want, my Queen?" I whispered, my
voice soft from the act of still trying to regain my breath.

        "Her..." was the reply, her eyes focused on Horse Slut.  With a weak
grin, I extended a tendril to snake across the room and unchain the Sluts.  They
all but leapt onto the bed, hurrying to us.  Horse Slut dove between my Queen's
thighs as Dog Slut dove between mine.

        I closed my eyes as my cock was taken rather tenderly in the Slut's
hands.  She kissed its tip, her tongue playing with my piss-hole.  It was as
much a testament to the Slut's skill and talent as much as the symbiote-
augmented stamina that my cock started to harden once more.

        I pulled Dog Slut's head up and off, and beckoned with a few curls of my
finger.  She wasted not a second in climbing atop me, and I moved her hips so
I was taken into her ass.  She immediately started bobbing her hips, squeezing
me with expert timing.

        Her hands stroked my chest and stomach, using just her legs to pound her
ass like a piston.  Her mouth lay open, moans and whimpers emanating from her
most deliciously.

        I looked over at Scourge and Horse Slut.  The Slut was suckling my
Queen's pussy with abandon, as she was thrusting her hips onto the crimson
tendril that invaded and stretched her pussy.  That was such a beautiful sight,
seeing my Queen enjoy a pet so much.

        Such a beautiful sight it was, I felt another orgasm starting to swell
within me.  This took longer, and it almost hurt--though in only fantastic ways.
Once more, every muscle in my body tensed, almost to the point of bursting, as
my orgasm overwhelmed me.  I barely had time to grunt out permission for my Slut
to come before I was robbed of all breath.

        I felt the flush of her juice hit my stomach and wash over my sides.
Her screams echoed in the bedroom as her hips flew along my cock, inner muscles
milking me of every drop.  There were quite a few moments of knowing little save
the feel of her ass gripping me so tightly, until I finally relaxed in a
shuddering, lethargic puddle of contentment.

        She was quick to pull herself off of me and scoot back down, to bathe me
with her tongue, licking my cock and abdomen clean.  I was only vaguely aware of
my Queen writhing against the bed in her own orgasm.

        The last thing I was aware of before exhaustion pulled me into sleep was
the pets sliding off of the bed and returning to their spot near the door.  I
knew they wouldn't HAVE to be chained up, that they'd stay there, cuddled
together in relief.


                        *              *              *


        One month later, I--along with Scourge and our favored pet--were at the
Delphi Project, specifically on the Gathering Lawn.  A small dais had been
erected, along with a small but serviceable sound system.  Speaking at the
moment was the guide from the last time I was here, and he was speaking with
authority and conviction that seemed out of place for someone who was "just" a
guide.

        I let that settle in the back of my mind to focus on the discussion.
Matters were raised by members of the Project, each individual stepping up to
the microphone to raise the issues, then discussion was heard in the gathered
crowd.  It was mostly a collection of issues that didn't concern me; how certain
projects were going, reports from "field agents"--whatever that meant--and such.

        Finally, the matter turned to security, and the guide mentioned that I'd
managed to penetrate it with ease.  I smiled at that; it wasn't really "easy",
per se, but whatever worked.  If he thought describing it as "easy" would help
the problem be solved, more power to him.

        I was finally asked to step up to the dais, and when I did I took a
moment to arrange my toga.  Scourge and I had decided on our royal outfits for
this outing.  It was actually something of a discussion between us, as we didn't
want to send the wrong message, as such, but at the end it was decided that a
presentation of power and authority was better than humility.  Neither of us
were, really, all that humble.

        Our pet was, of course, nude, proudly displaying her brands--including
the newest one.  An ancient Roman symbol of life and fertility had been
patiently etched between her shoulder blades, and I had to commend her for
keeping her cries stifled.  She made only the tiniest of whimpers, which of
course were ignored.  She had done her absolute best, and that was the important
part.

        I described my ingress, how I took to the trees and hid in the shadows.
This caused some consternation amongst the crowd, though to the Project's credit
it was at that such a hole in the security existed in the first place, rather
than that I was able to exploit it how I did.

        I gave my suggestions on how it could be fixed, based solely as an
external observer of the Project, and the guide assured me my ideas would be
thoroughly explored.  Somehow, I believed him.  With most people, you give them
advice--even if they actually ask for it--and they ignore it, preferring their
own ideas to yours.  With this man, though--something about him told me he
genuinely wanted the best for the Project, and didn't care where the ideas on
how to give that best came from.

        When I stepped down and returned to my Queen and pet, I noticed a few
men standing near to them, admiring the work of the brands and piercings on the
child's body, and the tattooing on her face.  They respectfully didn't touch her
or even made such a gesture, which I found all the more commendable.  I was, for
just a moment, actually disappointed that I would not be able to find a place
for my family in the Project.  However, as I'd told the guide on my last visit,
I'm a leader, not a follower, and even following someone like him went rather
against the grain.

        My Queen basked in the attention the men showed her as well as our pet.
She was looked upon with a bit of surprise, but with looks of admiration and,
yes, even desire, one and all.  It was rare to find a woman as "free" as her,
who was second in power only to me.  Even our pet enjoyed the attention, beaming
from ear to ear as she turned around, showing off the work on her back.  They
were surprised when I swore to them that she didn't need to be tied down or
gagged for the procedure.

        I gave the men pointers, talked about how to obtain the "feathering"
look I was so fond of, and such.  They left rather pleased, and I saw a few of
them eyeing their own girls with thoughtful expressions.  I smiled, thinking how
those bodies would look with their Masters' brands.

        I was brought from my reverie by the guide, who beamed a grin at me as
he clapped my shoulder.  We were invited back to his cabin, so we could discuss
other matters.

        It was rather pleasant, really.  Scourge and I sat on his porch, our
pet kneeling at our feet, while the guide's girls served us.  After some idle
conversation that I didn't realize I would enjoy so much, he brought out a
thick folder.  In it was the rest of my earlier request, as well as some other
items of interest.

        "Now, then," he said as he settled into the swinging bench, "You and
your family are, of course, under no obligation.  You can, as they say, tell us
to go stuff ourselves, if you like."  He chuckled, there, before continuing.
"Anyway, you should have everything you need for your little--project."

        My pet perked at that, looking between her Master and Mistress, though
of course we said nothing.  We only shared a knowing smile.  Looking to the
guide, I said, "Well, your help is, of course, infinitely appreciated.
Naturally, I tried looking around on my own, but I couldn't come up with
anything.  How did you do it?"

        The man just shrugged, giving us a knowing smile of his own.  "The
Project is VERY well-connected.  Now, onward to the other matter in that
folder..."

        I scanned the pages, then handed the folder to my Queen, who looked it
over as well.  I was concerned because there was quite a bit of obviously-
thorough intelligence-gathering on my family, but--damn it if I still didn't
feel like this man was trustworthy.  I managed to put aside my knee-jerk
reaction of wanting to demand how he got all that information, and instead
mentally moved on past it, to the apparent point of it all.

        Apparently, they were getting a bit too large to conceal much longer,
and wanted my help to establish a new Project extension.  While an honor, in its
way, I still had reservations.

        "Why us?" I asked, resting my elbows on the arms of the deck chair and
steepling my fingers.  Scourge looked up at the man, an eyebrow raised in
curiosity.

        "Well, it's rather simple.  Running the Project isn't easy, by ANY
stretch of the imagination.  It takes someone with management skills, with an
innate knowledge of how to apply people's strengths and compensate for their
weaknesses.  Here, it's done more or less by committee, which works quite
splendidly as it happens.  However, to establish a new extension, it would
demand much fewer people be in charge--such as your, ah, Queen and yourself."

        I pursed my lips thoughtfully, knitting my brows.  "But we would still
answer, ultimately, to you," I pointed out.  "As you know, I--have problems
answering to ANYone."

        "Quite.  However, you wouldn't actually answer TO anyone here.  You
would actually be our partners.  Ultimately, you would have complete control
over your Project 'chapter'."

        Scourge spoke up, here.  "And if we decided to run it fundamentally
different to here?  Such as requiring all subjects wear our brands, as well as
answer to us?"

        That made the man's features slightly shift toward a more distasteful
expression.  "Well, that would be your right, of course, but we would ask--not
tell, you understand, but ask--that you ran it similar to here.  If you did in
fact do such a thing..."  He looked to the ground momentarily, then shrugged,
almost helplessly.  "Well, then we would have to end the partnership."  He then
looked between us, almost pleadingly.  "You do understand, don't you?  Why we
would have to do such a thing."

        I glanced to Scourge, then looked back to the guide.  "Of course we do,
but do you see our concern?  Trust me, my friend--we, both of us, understand how
much of an honor, and display of trust, such a partnership would be.  We do.
However, we must be allowed true and total freedom."

        He nodded at that, absently picking paint from the edge of the bench's
armrest.  "I do, of course I do."  He leaned forward, looking between us with a
small and lopsided smile.  "And I'm glad you see what it means for us to ask you
this--which is why we asked you in the first place.  Because you WOULD see what
it means, because if anyone could be trusted to work autonomously, as partners
instead of followers, it would be you two."

        I glanced at Scourge again, and she extended her hand to me.  I took it,
and my symbiote seeped from the pores in my palm to connect with her "glove".
We, the four of us, silently shared our thoughts on the matter.  It was a
rather unexpected yet intense display of trust, of course, and as partners with
the Project we would have access to resources even my shadier contacts and
Scourge's business-related contacts couldn't afford.

        We finally withdrew our hands, then looked back to the guide.  After a
beat, I smiled and said, "May we sleep on it?  If you would have us as your
guests, that is."

        The man beamed another grin.  "Of course, of course!" he exclaimed,
getting to his feet.  "I'll have a room made up for you right this very moment.
In the meantime, please, allow my pet here to guide you back to the Gathering
Lawn, as the evening meal should be about ready."  We stood up, each of us
shaking his hand warmly, before we followed who we later decided must have been
his daughter.

        Dinner was an interesting affair; I'd never had a "buffet"-style meal
outside before, but it was a nice, if chilly, evening, and we sat on some
blankets on the grass, our pet between us for warmth.  We quietly discussed the
proposal, wanting to say yes but still not QUITE sure.  Just because we both
felt the same uncanny and inexplicable desire to trust the man didn't mean we
should necessarily do so without question.

        Surprisingly enough, it was our pet who raised a very interesting point.
"You are King and Queen.  Shouldn't you have subjects?"  Such a simple comment,
that, but a powerful one, and one that showed the contradicted the notion that
her comparably tender age would mean a similarly-tender mentality.  She had that
child's simple way of viewing the world, a way adults usually forget about.

        Ultimately, we decided to follow our initial stance and sleep on it, but
I was pretty sure what we'd say.


                        *              *              *


        Nine months saw a lot of changes.  We ultimately decided, of course, to
accept the proposal, though it wouldn't come about for years.  Sites had to be
selected as possibilities, people chosen to break off with us--and that itself
meant we spent more time at the Project, getting to know people.  It was,
humorously enough, not that dissimilar from a politician's "campaign trail".

        We made sure people understood that, ultimately, we were the King and
Queen, that they would be our subjects and, even though we would of course try
to treat them with the respect they deserved, ultimately our word was law.  It
would be quite a departure from their current way of life.

        Surprisingly, a few handful agreed--though I fully believe the guide had
a lot to do with that.  He seemed that sort, to quietly operate in the
background, not pulling strings as much as giving soft-spoken advice.

        Baby Maker gave birth to my son, whom Scourge and I christened Marcus
Cocceius, named after Marcus Cocceius Nerva.  He was the first emperor appointed
by the Senate, and proved to be a good choice.  Under his rule--and he didn't
become emperor until he was in his sixties--grievances which existed due to
previous emperor Domitian, who himself became known as among the worst of all
Roman emperors.  Marcus himself had no heir to appoint as successor, and instead
of leaving it to fate or chance, he appointed one.

        Suffice to say that he was one of the best emperors, at the LEAST as far
as early Roman history goes.  It is with such hope that my son could grow up to
be such a man that he was given the name.

        Thanks to the Delphi Project, Scourge and I were able to proceed with
our plans for our pets.  Our symbiotes first became intimately knowledgeable
with certain animal species, which itself involved bonding with a range of
specimens.  That took most of the time, as our symbiotes needed to be no less
aware of every bit of biological minutiae with their systems as they were with
a human's.

        Our symbiotes also created quite a stockpile of phenethylamine, that
chemical they need as much as humans need air and water.  What we were going to
do would be incredibly taxing on them, so they'd need as much of it as they
could get.

        Thanks to the Project, we had access to females of certain species who
were sick from things biologically unrelated to our needs, and we killed them
painlessly; as far as they knew, they were without pain for the first time in a
long while and went to sleep.  We collected their wombs and hurried back to my
mansion.

        We then bonded with our favored pet and the two sluts.  While it will be
described in brief, let me say first that the process was by no means simple or
quick.

        We altered our favored pet's womb to be nearly identical to a tiger's,
Dog Slut's to be a German Shepherd's, and Horse Slut's to be a hyena's.  While
we would have wanted her to live up to her name much as her sister, horse foals
are simply too large.  Pups and cubs, on the other hand, could be safely carried
as long as they weren't full litters.  They would each carry two of the species,
with large bits of our symbiotes inside them to act as "bridges", of sorts,
between the altered wombs and the rest of the bodies.

        Once again, it was by no means a simple process, but--they looked so
cute, their bellies swollen.  And our favored pet squealed when she was told she
would carry Agrippa's cubs.  Her tunic worked perfectly, protecting her neck and
torso from the tiger's bite and grip.

        Technically, he was still too young to actually be sexually mature, but
there was enough material in his come to allow for fertilization.  Dog Slut was
the easiest; not only did she simply have to do what by now came naturally, but
the seed was obviously fertile, so it was (comparatively) easier.

        Horse Slut was the hardest, since we had no adult hyena to mate her
with, at least none who we'd trust to not tear her apart as soon as look at her.
We had to collect semen from some Project contacts and impregnate her that way.

        The most enjoyable, easily, was our favored pet's.  She looked so
beautiful, kneeling on the lawn with Agrippa mounting her.  Even as young as he
was, he knew what to do.  He'd grip her and bite down on her neck, as he rammed
his thorny cock into her.  She gritted her teeth against the pain and even
managed to work back against him, until his milky seed flooded out of her
engorged cunt.

        From then on, all three of them were confined to my bedroom, and they
were more than content to do just that.  We would often catch them grinning to
each other as they rubbed their stomachs, and they took immeasurable delight
when we rented some sonography equipment to take ultrasound "pictures" of the
developing animals.

        The hyena cubs would have no parent to learn from, which would be just
as well.  Scourge wanted them for her personal pets (I had Agrippa, after all,
she pointed out adroitly), and it would be easier if she only had their natural
instincts to contend with, instead of the additional teachings a hyena parent
would impart.

        The pregnancies lasted just a touch longer than what would be normal for
their species, during which time Scourge's and my own symbiotes were pushed to
exhaustion.  It wasn't easy keeping such large bits fed and updated.  Of course,
they would have to stay in the females, since we would probably do such a thing
again at some point, and it was honestly easier than trying to revert the
changes just to reabsorb the "bits" (a term used very loosely, here, of course).

        Agrippa was on-hand for the birth of his cubs, a male and female, and as
expected took on a role more like a "big brother" than a parent, but that was
perfectly fine.  They would look upon Scourge and myself as parents.  Dog Slut
delivered her two puppies just fine, as did Horse Slut with her hyenas.  All of
the offspring nursed from their "mothers", though our favored pet had to stifle
giggles as her cubs milked her with their paws.

        Their mothers adored them, and gave them just as much love and affection
as if they were their human offspring.  What my heart ache in pleasure was how
our pet loved her womb being used for the tigers.  She loved Agrippa much like a
brother, since he held as much of my favor as did she, and truly loved being
able to bear him children.

        After taking a few weeks to simply rest and let our symbiotes regenerate
the "bits" that were given to our pets, I finally turned to the matter of
Heather Rubens.  My "grocery list" of items had come in, though I'd obviously
not had the chance to do anything with them but shove them aside, but now it
was time to deal with her.

        She was about to blow the whistle, as it were, on certain less-than-
savory aspects of Thatcher-Greggs, International, and we obviously couldn't have
that.  We also couldn't outright kill her, either, as that would raise far more
questions than it would answer.

        Now, I confess, I could have simply turned her into a drone, like so
many of my girls--but where's the fun in that?  Where's the CHALLENGE in that?
No, I decided to make her want to be a member of the family.  It had to be
handled differently than with Scourge's niece, our favored pet, because Heather
was an adult and as such would not be so easily led in the direction I wanted.

        On the other hand, it would make the result all the sweeter.

        One particular morning, at around two-thirty, I snuck onto her property.
She was a paranoid sort, though in her defense it was quite warranted.  Both
Scourge and myself didn't exactly deal with problems like her tenderly.  Her
would-have-been predecessor, whom we killed after forcing her to sign everything
over, was Marie's sister.  So, it's not like she would have fared any better.

        The great thing about paranoia is that it can be all too easily
manipulated.  Especially with with someone as security-conscious as Rubens.  She
had security cameras, a few dozen guards, the whole twenty-nine yards.

        However, the thing about security is that the very things that protect
you can be turned against you by someone who knows what he's doing.  It's tough
to compromise a well thought-out security system, but making someone THINK you
can compromise it, well, that's much easier.

        Take surveillance cameras, for example.  You can disable one by shooting
a laser at it and overloading the light-sensitive chip.  Cheap, easy, and
exactly the sort of thing someone with as resources as she feared we had would
do.

        Heat-activated alarms are actually fun to fool.  If you can get past
the outer set, you can set one off that's closer to the house intentionally.
Add in certain details like cigarette butts left here and there, and you have a
very powerful message.  You're telling them you can get to them anytime,
anywhere.  As true as that might or might not be, someone who's truly paranoid
will believe you can get to them anywhere in the world.

        Someone so scared will do something stupid.  All you have to do is be in
a position to take advantage of it.

        Truth to tell, I might have been able to actually sneak in.  But that's
only "might".  And I'm only immortal in the sense that my symbiote can keep any
NATURAL causes of death at bay.  Hot lead is about as unnatural as it gets.  So
I sent my little "message", and retreated to safety.

        One good thing about having money is you can throw it around.  Guards,
especially bodyguards, are thoroughly screened and checked out before it's even
THOUGHT about to hire them.  The son of the maid, not so much.  When that son
and his mother live on the property and he goes to a public school with a bad
reputation, if you slip him a few twenty-dollar-bills and a key-logger, he'll
happily place it on his mother's boss' computer for you.

        The maid herself--an overworked, underpaid and underappreciated woman--
might even look the other way if you pass her a few fifties and slip in as a
flower deliveryman to place bugs.

        Now, that presents its own list of problems--any paranoiac worth their
fear is going to sweep the house for bugs.  Probably twice a day.  However, most
types of sweeps have one flaw in common--the bug has to be active to be picked
up.  A bug put into someone's phone that's only active when there's a call will
be undetectable by most methods.

        The best--and most nerve-wracking--method is best used on people who do
not, at any cost, want their business made public.  So if you happen to have
photographs of your subject meeting someone your government would like very much
to "detain" at some "camp" or another, well--there's no bigger slap in the face
than to have those photos delivered to them.  Bright streamers and mylar
balloons is just twisting the knife.

        From my vantage point of a rooftop a good block away, I watched and
listened--with, I admit, glee--as Rubens' estate went to Defcon One.  Rubens--a
rather stately M.I.L.F. of a woman, sandy-blonde hair and a rather olive-y
complexion--screamed her frustration as she clutched the photograph, ripping it
off of the ribbons attached to the balloons and the weights.

        It wasn't easy, getting those photographs.  It took three and a half
weeks of around-the-clock surveillance, and three times I came THIS close to
being spotted--but, oh, it was worth it.

        Floodlights came on, guards rushed about; the estate could have been
best described bedlam.  After only a few minutes, a sedan followed by a new-ish
Hummer squealed down the drive and onto the street.

        The problem with new Hummers--or the benefit, if you're facing off
against it--is that the body is usually fiberglass.  The first HumVees,
military-grade, now those I wouldn't want to face off against with anything less
than an R.P.G.  And even then I'd fire and drop it to run without waiting around
to see if it hit.

        The civilian-class, however--it's almost sad how much faith is put into
them, considering how a soda pop bottle is more secure.

        My choice of rooftops was not by whim or chance.  Though the street led
in two directions away from her estate, she would have to pass by me if she
wanted the quickest way to the airport, the city limits, or anything else.  Now,
someone in full control of their faculties would have realized that and taken
the more indirect route, just to foil would-be ambushers.  Rubens was NOT in
full control of her faculties.

        As the Hummer sped by below me, I leapt and dropped the four stories
onto its roof.  Being fiberglass, it held up against me about as well as
cheesecloth would have, and I landed in the backseat, right between two guards.

        An elbow to the left, another to the right, the front passenger's neck
twisted, then the same to the driver, and I kicked the latter out as I swung
over the seat to take control of the wheel.  Surprisingly, considering how
little experience I have driving, the thing swerved only a little.  To be fair,
however, I believe the vehicle had excellent tuning.

        Once in control, I gunned the engine, and when the sedan took a corner
I plowed right into it.  I plowed into the front of the car, turning the engine
compartment--and damn near most of the Hummer--into spare parts strewn for
dozens of yards around.

        The airbags, combined with my symbiote grabbing onto everything for (my)
dear life, let me crawl out of the wreckage mostly unharmed.  Oh, I jarred my
left shoulder something FIERCE, but I'd be damned if Rubens saw me as anything
but whole, as anything but unstoppable.  My symbiote kicked-started the
endorphin-rush to let me deal with the pain later, and I calmly walked up to
the sedan and yanked the back door off its hinges.

        I can only imagine what I looked like--my visage the gold and black of
our Poison persona, complete with pupil-less white eyes.  She was alone in the
backseat, her face covered in blood from where she'd broken her nose on the
driver's seat.  I reached in and pulled her out, holding her up with one hand by
the lapels.

        "Now, now, now--why did you run?  That is truly a terrible way to start
off our friendship," I said, letting my smile color my tone.  She said nothing,
only babbled and weakly tried to get out of my grip.

        With my other hand, I took out a folded piece of paper from behind my
breastplate and tucked it into the pocket of her trousers.  "Get yourself to the
hospital if you like, but don't show that to ANYone.  I'll know if you do, and
you don't want that."

        She managed a nod, so I set her on her feet and patted her head.  She--
promptly passed out.  Well, her driver was still alive, if barely conscious, so
he'd hopefully be able to call.  Thanks to the Project, we had JUST enough
influence that, when combined with more money than I really wanted to spend,
hopefully made sure that little incident went unrecorded.  Of course, you never
knew for sure.  I probably should have done something a BIT more subtle--but
sometimes subtlety sends the wrong message.

        On the piece of paper was a phone number, to a disposable cell phone.
Surprisingly, she called it only a few hours later.  I half-expected she'd still
be in the hospital, but apparently I'd stricken her with fear more thoroughly
than I'd imagined.

        By the time she called, I was back at her estate.  Considering Rubens
herself was away, the estate itself was easier to get into than might be
imagined.  The guards were in such disarray that I could almost have strolled
in, naked, singing "La Bamba" in Yiddish and it wouldn't have been noticed.

        I was there for her daughter.  She was a cute young thing, all of five
years old.  When Rubens called, I put her daughter on the phone just long enough
to give a timid "hello", then told her that if she wanted the child kept
unharmed as well as the damning photographs not handed over to Homeland
Security, she would do exactly as I said.  And the first thing I said was that
she would have to wait for my next call.

        Getting out with a child was much more difficult than getting in alone.
We'd produced a small amount of fentanyl, which knocked young Lisa right out,
but we still had to get out of there.

        It was actually a rather close call at one point.  Rubens had arrived
home just as I neared the front door, so it was a mad scramble to find a
suitable hiding spot.  There weren't many options, but we finally settled on the
hall closet, believing her to be far too distraught to worry about putting her
coat away.

        We heard her before she even entered the house, chewing out the guards
for letting her daughter be kidnapped, and sending them to make sure I wasn't
still on the property.  Surprisingly--and showing that you really can't get good
help anymore--they ignored the front hall and spread out through the rest of the
house.

        Once they left, it was comparably easy to abscond.

        Through a company far removed from T.G.I., I obtained a warehouse.  It
took some time to prepare it properly--a series of rooms made of soundproofed
flooring, walls, and ceilings, plumbing, electricity, the whole schmear, during
which time we kept very close tabs on the news, and on our contacts in the local
police.  True to her fear, Rubens hadn't spoken of her daughter's kidnapping to
anyone but her guards.  And they were paid to listen to her, not take initiative
and contact authorities.

        Finally, we called her, and told her to come to the warehouse.  She was
met at the door by myself, of course in my Poison guise, and led into the small
maze of rooms.  When we arrived at the last room, Scourge was waiting for us.
Lisa was in her lap, naked and dozing off another dose of fentanyl.

        I smiled at the way Rubens blanched.  "What do you want?" she whispered.

        I cupped my hands behind my back and went to stand beside Scourge's
chair.  Neither I nor Scourge said a word at first; we simply stared at her,
Scourge's sadistic smile obvious.  Finally, I said, "In a word--you.  You're
causing far more trouble than we like."

        The woman didn't take her eyes off of her daughter, but I could almost
feel the anger and fear radiating from her.

        "You're investigating things far beyond your ken, woman.  You should
have known to keep quiet, but you didn't, so--here we are."

        Finally she looked up, to look me in the eye.  "What do you WANT?" she
repeated herself, though her voice was no louder.

        "For the moment?  Strip.  All of it."

        Rubens looked aghast, so Scourge produced a switchblade knife and held
it near Lisa's throat.  Tears welled up in Heather's eyes, and with quivering
fingers she started unbuttoning her blouse.  In moments she was naked, and I had
to admire her.  For her age, she was very attractive.  Rounded hips, full
breasts, nice skin (though by "nice" I don't mean unblemished; you'll only find
truly unblemished skin on PhotoShopped models or a model with an unhealthy
obsession with skin creams).

        Scourge and I shared a look, her smile widening to its inhuman
proportions.  She gestured with the knife over her shoulder, and Heather glanced
in that direction.  Up a set of steps and through a small door was what was
obviously the rear of a panel van.  It had a large metal plate welded into it to
separate the back compartment from the cab, and had only a mattress in the way
of adornment.  "Welcome to your new home," said Scourge, gloating quite plainly.

        "You will be fed and walked daily," I said, "and know that ANYthing you
do we do not like--well, let's just say it won't be YOU we punish."  I nodded to
Scourge, and to drive the point home she pressed the edge of the knife against
the child's throat just enough to draw a faint trickle of blood.  "Are we
clear?" I asked, my voice insultingly light by design.

        She managed a small nod, so I smiled.  "Good," I said as I walked to
her and held out another disposable cell phone.  "Now, you will call your
guards and your house staff, and tell them that you are going away for a while.
You're not sure how long you'll be."  With her recent history of traipsing all
over the country, it wouldn't be a huge stretch.

        She took the phone hesitantly, staring at it dumbly.  "Come on, now," I
prodded.  "Don't make your daughter suffer for your unwillingness to comply."
That got through, and she dialed the phone.  She managed to keep her voice even
ENOUGH, and when she hung up I took the phone back and crushed it.  I did keep
the pieces, to dispose of them in numerous locations nowhere near that
warehouse.

        "Good girl.  Now, we're going to wake your daughter up, and here's what
you're going to do..."

        I went over her instructions very carefully, repeating them only twice
to make sure she understood, then nodded over my shoulder to Scourge.  A small,
crimson tendril snuck from her arm, slipping between the tiny thighs and into
the so-tiny cunt.  After a moment, Lisa suddenly inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering
open.

        She looked around wildly, finally focusing on her mother.  The woman did
her best to give the child a smile, saying, "It's okay, sweetie.  Mommy's here.
We're--we're--we're going to have some fun..."  It was hard for her to get that
last bit out, though a soft, low exhalation from me provided incentive to
continue.

        Lisa looked around uncertainly, and her mother took her hand in both of
hers.  "It's okay, baby.  Mommy is right here."  The child calmed down, and she
didn't immediately notice the blood that slowly ran down her chest.  Rubens
started to reach to wipe it off then paused to look at Scourge.  She nodded
once, so Rubens tried to nonchalantly wipe it away.

        "Now," she continued, forcing a smile for her daughter, "you're going to
go with these nice people, okay?  You're--you're going to go have fun, okay?"
Her voice started to waver, and I could tell she wouldn't be able to keep it
calm much longer.

        I caught my Queen's eye and subtly nodded toward the front of the
warehouse.  "Time to go," said Scourge, getting to her feet and cradling the
nude child in one arm, though only long enough to pass her off to me.  She was
more or less running this part of the operation, taking delight in personally
ruining Rubens' psyche.

        While I left with the child, she herded Rubens into the back of the van.
A large coffee can and a roll of toilet paper were tossed in after her, and
Scourge laughed darkly, telling her that the can was her bathroom.

        We didn't return for nearly two nights.

        When we did, I waited in another "room" with Lisa while Scourge set up
a television and D.V.D. player before hauling Rubens out of the van.
Unsurprisingly, when the doors opened Rubens hurled the can at Scourge.  That
made my Queen snarl through a smile, saying, "You must not love your little girl
if you want her to suffer like that..."

        "No!" cried Heather through tears.  "No, please!  Punish ME, not her!"

        "As you wish," replied Scourge, and suddenly Rubens screamed.  Then she
screamed again.  Then a third time.

        "The NEXT time, it WILL be your daughter," growled Scourge, and I could
detect the rather large amount of pleasure she took.  Then her voice dropped as
she gave Rubens her next set of instructions.

        That was my cue, so I entered, holding Lisa in the crook of one arm.
A tiny plug was firmly fitted into her ass, a matching one in her cunt.  She was
being stretched, that was obvious, though the discomfort she felt seemed to melt
away once she saw her mother.  Her eyes widened when she saw her mother's
battered and bruised tits and cunt.  Scourge had rather enjoyed the
"punishment".

        I put in a D.V.D. and hit Play, then stood off to watch Rubens'
reaction.  On the television, she watched her daughter, naked on a large bed.  A
woman, face digitally blurred, slid onto the bed, naked as well.

        "Your mother loves you very much," said Scourge, her voice left
unaltered.  "She loves you so much, she let us help you be a big girl.  Can you
be a big girl for mommy?"  The child nodded, then Scourge grinned and motioned
to the camera.  "Say hi to mommy!  Wave to her!"  The child waved, still
hesitant.

        I got onto the bed and into view next, my face blurred out as well.  I
stroked the child's stomach, as Scourge kissed her lips softly.  "Such a big
girl," she cooed, then reached back to grab the camera.  It was repositioned as
Scourge moved, so it could get a close-up shot of my spreading the child's legs.

        The blurring around Scourge's mouth faded away, so her mother could see
my Queen's tongue slip out and lap at that tiny pussy.  "And you taste like a
big girl, too!" she exclaimed with false enthusiasm.  She resumed her oral
exploration, and, behind the television, I watched as her mother squirmed and
wrestled with her emotions.

        She had to feel disgust, anger, guilt--who knows what else?  On the
other hand, how gentle we were to the child was completely up to her, and we'd
made sure she understood that.

        On the television, the camera was moved as I changed places with
Scourge.  She held the camera with one hand as I placed the head of my cock at
those so-tiny pussy lips, her other hand moving between Lisa's legs to spread
that cunt for me.

        "Now," said Scourge in the video, "this is going to be a little
uncomfortable, but if you're a big girl you won't make a sound, okay?"

        I eased into the child, and she squeaked, but otherwise did her best to
stay quiet.  "Oooh, good girl," cooed Scourge, reaching up to stroke her cheek.
The camera jiggled a little then zoomed in, to get an extreme close-up of my
cock-head moving in and out of the child.  I didn't dare try and shove any more
into the child; just the head was stuffing her enough.

        Her mother covered her mouth with her hand, glistening eyes flicking up
to look at her daughter in my arms, then back to her daughter on the television.
In that recording, I started moving faster, grunting lowly as my orgasm
threatened to overwhelm me.

        "You ready for your big-girl prize?" cooed Scourge.  "Open your mouth
wide--that's a girl.  Now, GOOD big girls swallow every single, itty-bitty bit."
That was said as I pulled out of the child and scooted up to kneel next to her
head.  Scourge cupped the child's chin, keeping her mouth open, as I stroked
myself to orgasm.

        Thick ropes of charcoal-grey seed shot out, some of which actually did
end up inside Lisa's mouth.  She squirmed but Scourge held on tightly, and the
child had no choice but to swallow.  What didn't end up in her mouth splattered
onto her cheek, neck, and chest, running down in thick streaks.

        Scourge leaned down close to the child, cooing to her as she licked her
face.  "Such a big girl, you're going to make your mommy really, really happy."

        The recording stopped, and Scourge ejected the disc then put the remote
on the television.  She then nudged Rubens' leg with the pointed toe of her
boot, and the woman cleared her throat three times before she spoke.

        "You--you're such a big--big girl..." she whispered, forcing a smile
that wouldn't have fooled her daughter if she were much older.

        "Good," said Scourge, stroking Rubens' hair.  "Keep praising her, and
she'll be fucked nice and gently.  You know what will happen if you don't..."

        Rubens could only manage a fraction of a nod, then Scourge smiled.

        Thus began the deterioration of Rubens.  I have to confess, I was proud
of Scourge.  She kept from giving in to the impulses for carnage that I knew
bloody well she felt, working instead to destroy the woman's mind.

        Of course, this also ended up being more a challenge for Scourge than
for myself, but I didn't mind.  It presented me with another challenge, playing
second-fiddle to Scourge, offering advice instead of taking charge of the mind-
fuck.  It was my gift to my Queen.

        The videos didn't stop, and her mother got to watch--and give
encouragement--as her daughter was fucked, eventually becoming used to it.
Scourge taught her to eat pussy and suck dick, though--and of course it could be
excused--she wasn't very talented at it just yet.

        Two months after the initial abduction, with videos every two or three
days, it was time to involve her mother.

        We'd brought in another mattress, and Rubens helped Lisa onto my cock,
while Scourge filmed the whole thing.  She was at first hesitant, but when
Scourge brought out that switchblade, she hurriedly took her daughter and told
her how proud she was of her, how she was now going to help her be an even
bigger girl.

        Helping put my cock into her daughter's mouth so she could swallow my
seed--which she was becoming rather good at--was the last straw.  I took Lisa
away to the next room, and I could hear Rubens whisper, "It's never going to
end, is it?"

        "No, it isn't," Scourge replied matter-of-factly.  "You sealed her fate
the moment you started sticking your fucking nose where it shouldn't have been.
Now?  Now the ONLY thing we allow you to control is how much she'll hurt.  If
you continue to be a good girl, she'll know next to no pain."

        Rubens started crying, and I heard Scourge chuckle--it was a rather
pleasantly macabre sound.

        "Anything..." whispered Rubens, so quietly I could barely hear her.
"Anything--I'll do anything.  Just--don't hurt her."

        "Good girl," said Scourge, and I imagined she stroked the woman's hair,
or perhaps her cheek.  Something comforting.  "Now, there's just one last thing
you have to do, then you can leave here..."

        As I re-entered the room, Scourge had produced a strap-on, and held it
out to Rubens.  She looked at it, then her eyes closed.  It was taken without a
word, and she stepped into it, strapping it on with Scourge's help.

        As I lay Lisa back on the mattress, I told her, "Mommy loves you so
much, she's going to help you even more."  I lightly tweaked the child's nipple
affectionately.

        The dildo attached to the harness was small and slim, meant more for
first-time anal play, but it would serve this purpose just fine.  Scourge and I
stood back to watch as Heather knelt between her daughter's thighs, gently
moving one with one hand, the other palm licked and the spit spread on the
dildo.

        She almost lost her composure, but she regained it at the last moment,
then placed the head of the purple dildo against her daughter's pussy and pushed
in.

        I squeezed Scourge's hand and shared a grin with her, the symbiote
becoming a touch more transparent around my mouth so it could be seen.  Right
then, we knew Rubens was ours.

        Looking back, I think it was right about then that some large part of
Rubens' soul died--but, to be quite fair about it, if she'd kept her opinions to
herself, none of that would have happened.  Her would-have-been predecessor
died, and instead of taking the hint and keeping to herself, she had to poke
around.

        We let the woman fuck her child for a good ten minutes, quite enjoying
the sight of the tiny ersatz cock disappear into the equally-tiny cunt.  I
finally had her stop, and got a pout from Scourge for my trouble, but I reminded
her we had things to tend to.  She nodded, if still somewhat disappointed, and I
took Lisa away while Scourge gave Heather her final instructions.

        She was taken back to her estate, where the next two days were spent
setting her affairs in order, letting go her staff, handing off business ties--
basically giving up her life.  She arrived on my doorstep the second evening,
head bowed in submission.  She was beaten, and she knew it.

        She never gave us trouble again.  Seeing how well her daughter was
treated--as long as she herself was a good girl--she seemed to resolve herself
to her fate.

        She was kept out of sight, of course, not even allowed into my bedroom,
where her daughter spent a lot of time.  Lisa--renamed Ophelia after the
character in "Hamlet"--grew close to our favored pet.  The pet delighted in
becoming like a sister to her, helping her learn how to please her King and
Queen.

        Not-so-tragically, Rubens died less than two months after moving into my
mansion.  And, no, neither Scourge or myself (physically), ah, "encouraged" her
death.  Like I said, she lost a part of her soul, and apparently it was a part
she couldn't live without.  Ah, well.  Omelette, broken eggs, et cetera, et
cetera.

        I HAD rather hoped to keep her around, but perhaps we'd have better luck
with our next attempt at "taming" an adult.

        We'd have to see.  The future was unknown, but definitely bright.



                              END OF CHAPTER FOUR




