Chapter 5

Two Days Later

Anthony pulled the limo up in front of the county jail. Bruno got out first, then opened the door for me. The two of us waited while Anthony parked the limo. We walked up the steps, and Anthony opened the door for us. We followed signs to a desk with a bored-looking police sergeant behind it. The name on his badge was Bernard Odell.

We stopped in front of the desk, and the cop sat up and smiled at us. “Gentlefolk, can I help you?”

“Two visitors for Andrew Cameron,” Bruno said. He passed our papers over. Most places, my choker with “Amy: property of the Hanging Academy,” would have identified me. But Steffi had warned us when she helped arrange the visit “They’re very careful at the jail. Be sure to bring ID for both of you.”

Odell studied Bruno’s ID carefully, then looked over the card that identified me as a slave, belonging to the Academy. He nodded, tapped a few keys on his computer, and nodded again. “Okay, you’re expected. What about him?” He glanced at Anthony.

“I’ll be waiting out here,” Anthony answered, “I’m just Amy’s bodyguard.” He offered his ID card.

“Okay,” Odell answered. “There’s a waiting area right over there.”

“Thank you.” Anthony went over and took a seat.

Officer Odell tapped a couple more keys, and another cop came up, Ike Fallon, according to his badge. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to a visiting room.”

He led Bruno and me to an area labeled “Visitor Control”. We were scanned for metal, explosives, drugs, electronics and I don’t know what else. Bruno had to check his gun and cell phone, and we had to explain about the slave tracker. They called the desk and Officer Odell verified that we’d showed him the papers on it. The cop in charge of Visitor Control hung up the phone and waved us on through.

Fallon led us a short distance to a room with a table and chairs. He explained that we were required to stay on our side of the table and Andrew would have to stay on his side. We could shake hands, but nothing more.

Another cop brought Andrew in and watched until he was seated, then withdrew. Fallon stood a short distance away. We could talk privately, if we kept our voices down — assuming they didn’t have a microphone hidden somewhere.

“Amy,” Andrew began, “I’m glad to see you.”

“And I’m glad to see you, now. Even here. But ... How did you get here so fast? It hasn’t been long enough for a trial, not even long enough to negotiate a plea bargain, right?”

“I went straight from our meeting to the police station and turned myself in. I knew I was going to spend some time in jail, so there was no reason to postpone it. I’ll get credit for time served. Whether it’s just a few months or over a year, the sooner I start, the sooner I’ll be out. And the sooner I can start getting the grades and experience I need to get into the Academy. Right?”

“Oh. Right.”

Andrew started talking, slowly, thinking out what he wanted to say. “I owe you much more explanation than I gave at that meeting. Probably more than there’s time for today, but I’ll do my best. Just...” he paused, then “This is just an explanation. Not an excuse. Never an excuse.”

He paused, then went on hesitantly, “This is complicated, and it’s going to be hard to believe.”

“Just tell the truth, Andrew. I’ll know.”

“You’ll know? You fell for the way I led you on about the slave contract and getting Dad’s okay. I’m not proud of that, not any more, but —”

“That was before I went to the Academy, Andrew. We learn to read body language, micro-expressions, things like that. Think back to the day you hanged Miranda. Remember in the tent?”

“I sure do. And I still don’t see how —”

“Miranda showed me where to hide, where you wouldn’t see me. But that’s not the point. You came in, all set to lord it over Miranda. You were going to make her do something degrading, right?”

“Well, not that awful. I just wanted her on her knees in front of me.”

I chuckled. “She’d have been glad to do that, if you’d asked nicely. But you remember what she did?”

“Sure, she pointed out how I could help her put on a really good show. And the sex was really good.”

“Sure. But how did she know exactly what to tell you to get you to go along with her plans, instead of her going along with what you’d originally planned?”

“Uhh ... I guess I hadn’t thought about that. It just seemed so logical at the time.”

“She watched you. She was watching from the moment she arrived, right up to the moment you pulled the lever. You remember, afterward, I asked you for her little finger?”

“Sure. I was prepared to give you a good square meter, and you wanted so much less. I never understood why.”

“When I was in the tent with her, she promised to show me how to wrap someone around my little finger. After she got you to go along with her plan, she hugged you, and stuck out her little finger behind your back and made a circular motion with it. That became the symbol of what I wanted to learn.”

“So...?”

“So, I learned. We all learn. We learn to read emotions, to know what the customers want — what they really want, not just what they think or say they want. That way we can make sure they go away really satisfied.”

“You can read my mind?”

“No, your emotions. Not what you’re thinking, but how you’re feeling, how you react. So just go ahead, tell me.”

Another pause, then he went on: “I watched you wake up on Purity Island, and it was everything I hoped it would be. Your panic, despair, tears. But I didn’t feel happy. I didn’t feel triumphant. Not even sexually excited. I felt empty. Drained. Listless. I brooded about it, staring into space at work, moping around the house. When Dad got back from the hospital, he looked at what my department was doing and called me in to explain. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t figure out what.

“I told Dad I was worried and depressed about his ‘mysterious’ symptoms and about your disappearance. I think he suspected what was really bothering me, but he didn’t say anything. Whether he suspected or not, he asked around and found the best therapist in town. Then he put me on paid leave — on condition that I check into the clinic for full-time treatment.”

“Okay, so you had therapy. But how ... how did you change from the Andrew I knew — the Andrew who had me kidnapped — to the Andrew who sincerely regrets that and wants to be a NooseMeister? It’s been less than three months since I woke up on that beach. I know there have been a lot of advances in therapy in the last 50 years, but still ... a turnaround like this in less than a year...?”

But as soon as I said that, I remembered: Grant had gone overnight from a sarcastic, me-first bastard to helping other students — and, incidentally, my lover, my most beloved after Scott.

“Dad checked with ten different doctors to find the best therapist in town, then called in some favors to get me accepted immediately. Dr. Danton is a Psychiatrist; she uses a combination of drugs and therapy. She also has a genetic biochemist and a neurologist on staff at her clinic. She uses a combination of talk — to find out what’s bothering you — and behavioral therapy. Essentially the same techniques you use to teach a baby to be a human being. When you behave well, you get rewards. When you don’t, you get only the basics: cold cereal for breakfast, a PB&J or Mac “amp; Cheese for lunch, a hamburger or hot dog or Campbell’s soup or pasta with sauce out of a jar for dinner. That restaurant meal was a reward for an entire week of acting like I cared about other people. So I was making progress on my behavior, but I still didn’t know what I really wanted.”

I nodded.

“Then you showed up and I choked on that steak. That was frightening — I thought I was going to die. But at the same time, I got so turned on ... I finished my entree, waited for Maeve to finish hers, then persuaded her to skip dessert.

“As soon as we got into the limo, I reached for her. I’m not sure why she didn’t object to my grabby hands. Maybe she was so happy that I wanted her and not you ... I was just too horny to wait until we got home, and the limo was from a service that is famous for its discretion. So we made love in the back seat. Which was really great, by the way.”

“Yes, but how...?”

“As I said, I was improving my behavior, but I still didn’t have the real motivation. That experience of choking gave me the motivation. After a couple of sessions, I knew what I wanted: to be a NooseMeister, like you, Amy. Once I knew what I wanted, the therapy went faster.

“Dr. Danton did a bunch of tests on me the day after I checked in. PET and CAT scans and functional MRI and neurotransmitters and some I can’t pronounce. If there’d been anything wrong with my brain, it would have shown up. But there wasn’t anything wrong. Nothing organic, anyway. But my gene scan ... that was the big surprise ... I came up as normal for a bottom.”

I gasped. “Bottom? You?”

“Yeah. I mentioned the genetic biochemist. Based on my genes, I should have been like you: studious, a little nerdy, and a helper: happiest when I could make everybody around me happy.”

“But you know Dad. Once he’s made his mind up, he doesn’t change it. He’d decided that I was going to be the heir to his business. So he had me given hormones and special training to be dominant, a leader. He succeeded, mostly. I’m pretty good at business, and I could do a good job as the next CEO of Cameron Industries. Maybe not as good as Dad, but I’d have kept the business growing. But interfering with my natural bent like that also turned me mean.”

“Yeah, I think I’d noticed.”

He smiled, rather sheepishly. “Once we had that figured out, Dr. Danton rebalanced my hormones and my neurotransmitters a little. More important, though, I now knew what I really wanted: to be a NooseMeister. Like you. I had the motivation to change. That was really important. Before, I’d been going along with the program. Interacting with other patients and staff when I was told to, and earning privileges by behaving the way I was supposed to. But after I decided to become a NooseMeister, I really worked at it. Instead of waiting to be told, I sought out opportunities to work with other people. Not to be a doormat, but to find solutions that worked for me and for the other person. I’m hoping to become like you. I’m not going to let anything stop me if there’s a way to get there. Certainly not my own pride or stupidity. I’m going to become the kind of person that I need to be to get in, and I’m going to work hard to graduate. And if I can get to be 90% as good as you are, I figure I’m doing pretty damn good. Hell, I just hope I’ll be good enough to be accepted.

“Anyway, that’s my story. It doesn’t excuse what I did, but at least you know how I got to be such a bastard — and why I’m determined not to be one any more.” Andrew looked relieved. He’d been wanting to tell me all this for days. The more he got out, the happier he looked. Now he was almost relaxed.

I’d been watching him, there was no doubt in my mind. I knew what he wanted. If he were in a position to buy my services at a party now, his mouth would be between my legs, not the other way around.

“Okay,” I told him. “I can understand that. And more important, I believe it because it’s what you really think and feel.”

Andrew sat for a few seconds, silent. Then he sat up a little straighter. “Okay, I’ve explained how I got to be here. Now, how about you. How did they find you and get you off Purity Island so fast?”

“I got the crew of a trading ship to bring me back from the Island.” And I told him the whole story of how I escaped from Purity Island, with full orchestration and four part harmony.

By the time I started talking about how we subverted Puppy, Andrew was grinning like an idiot. When I got to talking Justin into rescuing the three of us, he cracked up, bent over the table laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. Fallon came over to check if anything was going on, but left once he realized it was just Andrew laughing.

“So, while I was figuring out what I needed to do to get in the Academy,” Andrew gasped out when he could finally breathe again, “You rescued yourself and two other sublings, armed only with your wits, with all the disads I’d stuck you with, in less than a month. Fan-fucking-tabulous! Amy, you’re the best!”

We chatted a little more, then Bruno touched my arm, and I looked up at the clock. We’d been talking for nearly four hours. It was time to go back. “We’re ready to go now,” I told Fallon. We picked up Anthony at the desk and returned to the limo.

That Night

I tossed and turned for over two hours, struggling with my conflicts about Andrew. Melissa eventually woke up. “Something is bothering you,” she said.

“It’s my brother, Andrew.”

“I thought that was over. He’s in jail; he won’t be able to do anything to you until after your hanging.”

“Yes, but he’s changed. Not the same Andrew. He is genuinely sorry, and he wants to become a NooseMeister.

“So what’s the problem?”

“The way he is right now, he’s not going to make it. He’s too busy regretting what he did wrong. He needs to concentrate on what he wants to do, not on his past mistakes and misdeeds.”

“He’ll get past that. Or you’ll figure out how to get him past it. One or the other.”

“Yes, but...” I wasn’t sure how to put this, at least partly because I was a little ashamed of the way I felt. Melissa waited while I figured out what to say. “I’ve helped myself. I’ve helped other students. But this isn’t just a student. This is my brother Andrew. The brother who — I won’t say he made my life a living hell, but he bullied me. I avoided him as much as I could when I was a child and early teenager.

“Andrew tricked me into signing a slave contract. If I hadn’t stolen a march on him by running to the Academy as soon as I got my acceptance, he’d have had me chained up in a dungeon, to be a sex toy for him. He would have kept me naked and pregnant. Not even because he wanted children that much, but just so he could torture me while I was pregnant. Andrew had me kidnapped and dumped on Purity Island in slave chains. If it hadn’t been for Runner, I’d still be there. Probably working as a slave for some farmer, but at best hiding in the woods, eating nuts and berries, and always afraid that I’d get caught in a trap, or by some hu-dog like Puppy.”

“But you want to help him anyway, don’t you?”

“Yes. I do. But not enough to be sure I want to make the effort of figuring out how.”

“Hmmm ... Tell you what, Amy. Ask my sister. But not now. In the morning. Right now, you need to relax. Lie on your stomach.”

Melissa started at my neck, rubbing gently at first, then almost hard enough to hurt. Her fingers worked their way down: my shoulders, my mid-back, my lower back, and finally my buttocks. Then she started going deeper, kneading the muscles, working her way back up to my neck. She turned me on my side and lay down facing me. She grabbed my head and kissed me, lips to lips at first, then her lips opened to invite my tongue. I went from zero to horny in about 30 seconds. Then she pressed her entire body against mine, rubbing her breasts against mine, her already-wet pussy against mine.

Suddenly I was breathing hard and needed release. I started to reverse over her for 69, but she pushed me onto my back and turned on the nightlight on her side of the bed. It was just bright enough to see the room and its furnishings. She got up and wheeled the hanging platform under the noose. She went into the closet for a few seconds, then came back to bed.

“Look at it, Amy,” she ordered, “The noose. Soon, maybe a month, maybe two months, you’ll get up on a stage and onto a hanging platform like that. Your hands will be tied and your skin coated with oil to shimmer in the light. One of your friends, maybe me, will put a noose around your neck.”

She put something around my neck, and I realized she’d brought out a spare noose. She positioned it just as we would for a practice (or real) hanging. “Then your new owner will pull the lever,” she went on, “and the platform will sink away under you, and you’ll be hanging by your neck.”

I thought I’d been horny before. Now my need was so strong I reached down to finger myself, but Melissa grabbed my hands. “Wait,” she told me. “You’ll kick and writhe for the audience, put on your best show, but sooner or later the noose will strangle you to death. The noose always wins, eventually.”

This was too much. My pussy was wet, I was getting the female equivalent of blue balls. Then Melissa leaned over and started licking me. She flicked my clit with her tongue, again and again. It made me hotter than ever, but I couldn’t cum from that. Then she slid two fingers inside me and started long licks, from my entrance all the way to my clit, but slowly. Too slowly for me to get over that threshold that I so desperately needed.

Feeling the rope around my neck, I stared at the noose dangling from the ceiling, the noose I’d practiced with once or twice a day for nearly four years. A noose identical to the one that would, someday — soon, I hoped — strangle me to death while I made dozens of people incredibly horny with my performance.

Then, at last, Melissa sped up, sucking gently on my clit while her tongue slide across it, over and over. Thirty seconds of that and ... The orgasm started deep inside me. It spread to my nipples like a lightning bolt, then to my head, down my spine to my feet. My body convulsed. My scream of pleasure woke up everybody in the hallway. This was better than when I’d masturbated with a towel around my neck right after watching Miranda hang, better even than when Melissa had come to me made up as Miranda. Possibly as good as the first time Grant and I made love after he’d finished his evening practice session.

Melissa slowed down as I grew hypersensitive, and gradually came to a stop. She licked me clean, then kissed me, sharing the aftertaste of me mixed with her own natural taste. I grabbed her and kissed her, hard, with lots of tongue.

There was a quiet knock on the door. Melissa pulled away from me to call out, “It’s okay.” The door opened and somebody looked in. The two of us, still hugging, and the smell of sex told them everything they needed to know. I heard some whispering, then the door closed again.

“Rest now,” Melissa told me. She turned off the nightlight, turned me onto my side, and wrapped her arms around me. Ten seconds later, I was asleep.

I felt much better when I woke up in the morning. I remembered the previous night and... “Wait. Melissa, you made me cum so hard, but I left you high and dry. Want me to lick you this morning?”

“High, but not so dry. As soon as you were asleep, I got out a vibrator. Thinking about you hanging with your skin all shimmery, it took about twenty seconds and I came. Had to use my other hand to muffle my scream so I wouldn’t wake everybody up again. So, thanks, but I’m okay. Let’s have breakfast.”

It was almost as if the caf was catering to me this morning: the featured dish was Belgian waffles. Crisp waffles with fruit compote and whipped cream on top. Yum.

Melissa had to go to class, so I went back to the room, put Miranda on my desk, sat down facing her, and gazed into her eyes. I let my thoughts wander, telling Miranda everything that was bothering me. All about my brother tormenting me when we were children. About Andrew’s plans to keep me chained up and pregnant in his custom-designed dungeon. And about Andrew having me kidnapped to Purity Island.

Then I went on to the other side. About the new Andrew, who wanted to become a NooseMeister. And why he wouldn’t make it. And my doubts about whether I wanted to help him. And the ultimate question: could I help him? What could I do to get Andrew past his guilt and regret and thinking about the future again?