Chapter 8

The first thing Emily became aware of was a pounding in her head, the second was flashing sunlight, the third was that she was moving. Tentatively, she pried one eye open. She was in a car, but not her limo. Emily gasped, the events of the previous night flashing to her mind. Instantly she checked her body to see if she was still him.

“Good morning, my sweet,” Katerina’s voice.

Relief flooded her and her masculine voice groaned, “What happened last night.”

“A fuck up. We almost lost everything, but that is over now.”

“Over, wait, what, what do you mean?”

Katerina looked back for a second just to see His face, then put her eyes back on the road. “The cat bitch drugged you. She was trying to bring Him back.” She looked back and made stern eye contact, “She knew.”

‘Of course,’ Emily groaned.

“You are lucky that I had plans of my own for us that night, mishka. If they had locked the door, we would all be under his control again. Also, I know you want your body back, but I hit it very hard in the head.”

“Okay, that vaguely explains why I’m still him, but where are we.”

“Gone. Vivian helped me get you into Sarah’s car. It is too dangerous to be anywhere near him now. Also, we have two prisoners to take care of and only three to care for them.”

“What about-”

“I do not count Lonnie. You have tried, my sweet, but it is time to give up and move on. You will do this with me,” Katerina turned back and smiled. She could really be terrifying sometimes.

Still, Emily couldn’t argue with the logic, at least not while her head was pounding. Over the minutes, she figured the pounding would stop, but it didn’t. Instead she felt nauseous.

“Kat, I think we need to stop.”

“Mishka?”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

After the heaves, Emily piled herself up into the front seat but felt no better. Katerina insisted on driving on, but Emily felt weaker and weaker. Three miles further, and Emily whispered, “Kat, it’s getting worse.”

“That’s not possible, it was only seconal. You will feel better soon.”

“No, Kat, I feel like...”

“Emily?”

“I think I’m dying.”

Katerina slammed on the brakes and pulled over.

Preston-Emily indeed was starting to look like death warmed over. Katerina’s phone rang, “Hello?”

Emily couldn’t hear, but she did not need to. She felt it in her soul, “My body is dying isn’t it?”

Katerina glared at her but kept listening. She nodded, “I understand.” She hung up the phone and slammed the steering wheel. After a moment more reflection, she decided it needed a few more hits, and she screamed out in frustration.

Emily did not move.

“It seems the demon still has us trapped,” Katerina told her.

The two began the long journey back.

Katerina wiped her tear and stated, “This must end.”

Preston-Emily reached up and squeezed Katerina’s had weakly. “It will, when we get back, get everyone who’s left. This is going to end.”

“Don’t do it. Emily, you’re better than this. We’ll figure out a way, but you can’t do this,” Candace’s voice carried a fear that Emily hadn’t heard in their time together.

“I can’t see another way out of it.”

“Emily, please, you’re getting better at controlling the power you can get better you can figure it out, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

Preston-Emily turned away from her friend and looked out the window. From high up in the penthouse, even the bustle of New York activity looked slow, almost peaceful compared to the turmoil she felt inside. But she’d made up her mind.

“If this is the only way you can think of, you haven’t tried hard enough. Do better, damnit, I can’t-,” she paused stammering for words as a well of frustration and fear rose as a lump in her throat. Fear that choked down her words with another more horrific idea, “You- you’re turning into him. Have you thought about that?”

“Maybe.” The word hung dead in the air. Silent moments stretched for heartbeats on and Emily remained still.

Candace had been hoping for a denial, something to confirm that they were still on the same page. She had thought to follow it up with accusing her of wanting to be him, but that word stopped her cold. When she found her voice, it was not longer accusatory, instead quiet and pleading. “I can’t be a part of this, Em. Please, don’t make me do it.” Her prayer fell upon the ears of the goddess that had the power to compel any action. Candace clutched herself feeling the room chill around her. Even the air seemed to react to this Goddess’s cold heart.

Finally Preston-Emily turned back and looked to Candace with warm sorrowful eyes. “I wouldn’t ask you to, don’t worry. I promise you, this is a burden you’ll never have to carry.”

A tear fell from Candace’s downcast gaze and she asked, “What about her?” Emily reached forward with her mind and pressed against the barrier of Candace’s. Candace looked up in shock, recognizing the feeling, “No, please don’t, not you. Not you!”

“I’m sorry.”

Candace cried out as she fought this last violation but she could not hold. As her barriers collapsed, she felt that familiar giddy lightness and found herself smiling at Preston-Emily. She remembered it was so nice that everything was going to be over. Emily had taken care of everything and soon they could all go back to their own lives. Everything was fine and normal. All that was left was to pack her bags. “Great, I guess that means we’re done for the day, I’m going to get packing. You coming out of the cave for dinner tonight?”

Emily shook her head, “No, you go on. I’ve got stuff to think about.”

Candace smiled and walked out without a worry in the world except to wonder why her face was a little wet.

Preston tested his bonds tugging hard at the leather shackles that kept his weak female arms spread. The last couple of weeks locked in a semi-permanent orgy had left him frayed, even the baths he’d gotten were accompanied by mind bending orgasms. Time had been blurring before, but now he was clear and that worried him. That bitch Emily was planning something and he couldn’t wait for her to mess up. He didn’t recognize his new whereabouts, but if he had to guess he’d say he was in the back of an eighteen wheeler. It was almost as scary as that moment a few days ago. He was being pleasured into mindlessness by two of his former slaves, but then things changed. It felt like his soul was being ripped from his - or her body. He knew that he was dying and he couldn’t do anything about it. At least the dumb bitches figured out that he had stopped squirming. He assumed they’d finally decided to poison him. When he woke he was surrounded by a few of the women all with concerned looks. It was touching, but that bitch with his body hadn’t bothered to show. He was glad when they finally fed him something other than that crappy red vegetable juice, cheese and applesauce, but clearly that oatmeal had been drugged since he ended up waking up chained and in a truck that was coming to a stop.

A door swung open and daylight streamed in illuminating the metal box that was his new prison. With the new light, he saw that a sheet of plexiglass with air holes separated him from freedom. It would seem he was an exhibit now. “Hello?” his voice was still high pitched, feminine, and weak.

“ ... promise, in you go.”

Kittyslave tiptoed in, head down and pride crushed. He mentally cursed. That girl had been his best shot at getting his hands on Emily. She knelt before her now feminine master, “I’m so sorry Master, I tried.”

“That she did,” came his old voice. Emily stepped into the metal box and his a pressure pad bolted onto on the side of the wall. LED’s warmed up and lit them from above, “that’s better. Are you comfy Mr. Harrison?”

“Peachy.”

His old face smiled at him for a moment. As soon as they made eye contact, Preston-Emily clapped his hands together and Preston felt a shock of pain as a collar buzzed him. “Don’t try that again.”

He looked down, hatred seething in his heart.

Emily watched him carefully. He wasn’t trying to make eye contact at the moment. So far so good. “I wanted make sure you understood how this was going to go Preston,” she shut the door and locked it with a padlock. “You’re not in control here. That’s over.”

“What do you want.” He clipped each of his words, every syllable an implicit enunciation of hatred.

“An excellent question. But not really important anymore. You see, I wanted to have a normal life, a career, an apartment, maybe see my mom from time to time. Hell, right now I just want my old body back, but that just isn’t going to happen. I’ve accepted that. You, on the other hand, I have a feeling that you’ve been getting everything you wanted for your entire life. I mean, a man who can control minds is basically a god right?”