Chapter 43

With shaking hands and vision blurred by stinging tears, Linda prepared the drink. She poured a dozen of the small white pills into her ceramic mortar and crushed them with the pestle, then poured the resulting fine powder into a water bottle. Cradling it against her body with her broken arm, she tightened the lid and then shook it vigorously to dissolve the powerful sedative into the sugary solution. Then she ascended the stairs.

“Kristin, baby. It’s time for your medicine, honey,” she said in a soft, tremulous voice.

Kristin stirred, her body quivering with fever chills. What remained of her short, fine hair lay matted against her damp skull. Her labored, stuttering breaths sounded wet as they gurgled in her throat. Linda slid her hand beneath her head to gently lift it off the pillow and cradle it so she could drink. It was only with the greatest of effort that she managed to hold in her sobbing, but she couldn’t keep the terrible grief from her face, nor prevent her shoulders from shaking uncontrollably.

She gritted her teeth from the pain as she grasped the bottle with her injured right hand and held it to Kristin’s pale lips, tilting it to pour the liquid into her mouth. Although she was incoherent, Kristin grimaced at the bitter flavor.

“I know, baby. I know. But you need to drink it, okay? It’s going to m-m-m...,” the sob broke free, but she bit it back, “make you feel better.”

When the bottle was empty, Linda dropped it onto the floor, and then she undressed. With the deed done, she finally gave voice to the anguish that tore at her heart as she slid into the bed next to Kristin and drew her into her arms, laying her head upon her breast. It mattered not that the sheets were damp and cold from her sweat and urine. She would hold her lover in her arms one last time, and soothe her pain until she breathed her final breath.

The stir Endora and Alexis caused the previous evening with their public nudity became a tumult by morning. Whereas, before, there had only been two naked girls wandering the halls of Overton House, now there were nine. The men of Scirewood stood together in the cafeteria with crossed arms and watched with disbelieving expressions as one naked girl after another filed into the large, open kitchen to prepare breakfast together.

Endora’s fledgling harem had joined forces with Alexis’s Elite to protest for their collective emancipation. Etched on their bodies in permanent marker was their slogan and their demand.

OUR PUSSIES, OUR CHOICE! FREEDOM NOW!

Mike noticed that Marcus could hardly keep his eyes in his head. His neck swiveled back and forth so swiftly, he worried the big man might hurt himself. Then Mike appraised him more closely. No. He wasn’t quite the big man he used to be. Mike tilted his head to speak to him.

“Hey, Marcus. Is it just me, or have you lost some weight?”

Marcus whipped his head around, and a huge smile lit up his face. “You can tell?”

“Yeah, man. Definitely. You look great.”

“Hey, thanks, Mike!” he said, then his eyes were off and running again.

“Isn’t the Private supposed to be on guard duty right now?” Adrián asked Fulton.

“Uh huh,” he said with a tiny nod, his eyes never deviating from the scene in front of him for even a split second.

“Oh shit,” Adrián said, holding his fist to his lips. “Man, Staff Sergeant’s gonna have her ass for lunch.”

“Nuh uh,” Fulton said. “Staff Sergeant gave her an indefinite leave of absence.”

“She what?”

“Yeah. Shocked the hell out of me too.”

Rachel wandered over to join them. “What the fuck ... is going on?” she asked in wonderment.

“Dunno. Some kind of protest or something,” Eric said, then he turned and his jaw dropped. “Haylee! What the hell are you doing?”

Mike and the gang turned just as Haylee Skansi crossed in front of them. She was buck naked.

“Morning!” she said to them with a smile and a little wave, joining their small group.

“Jesus!” Eric said, moving to cover her with his body. “Put your clothes back on!”

“Hey, fucko, get off me!” She shoved him away. “My pussy, my choice!” she shouted, and the girls in the kitchen turned to whistle and applaud her.

“That’s right!” Alexis shouted back. “My pussy, my choice! My pussy, my choice!”

The other girls joined with her, until the refrain reverberated off the walls. Mike and Marcus shared a look and then a smile.

“My pussy, my choice,” they said quietly in unison, joining the chant, each time growing louder until Mike’s fist pumped the air. “My pussy, my choice!”

Haylee flashed him a beautiful, grinning smile. “Right on, man! Yeah! Fuck yeah!” She moved to face him and pumped her fist in time with his. “My pussy, my choice!”

Eric’s face fell and he turned green, then he immediately began chanting as well, sidling up next to her to put his arm around her waist. She glanced at him from the side of her eye, but her focus never left Mike.

“Oh shit!” Rachel hissed, looking over her shoulder.

Mike turned. Linda wandered into the cafeteria and stopped in her tracks. The chanting abated, ebbing away until the room fell uncomfortably silent. Linda’s red, puffy eyes slowly moved from girl to naked girl, then to the group of soldiers and teachers, until they finally settled on Mike. He held her gaze for several long seconds. Then his fist shot into the air and he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“My pussy! My choice!”

Immediately, the chanting resumed, steadily building in volume until it thundered throughout Overton House. Linda stared at him for a moment longer, then slowly turned and shuffled away as sixteen voices shouted at her back.

“My pussy, my choice!”

Kali and Charmagne stood side by side, peering out over the edge of the deck railing, huddled in their waterproof coats against the cold, misting rain that swirled and spat in their faces. All around them, thick clouds blanketed the mountain tops in an impenetrable shroud.

“Well, shit,” Charmagne grumbled. “This is fucking pointless.”

The two women pulled their coats tighter around themselves and sat in the deck chairs. Kali stared straight ahead, into the great white void. Their night together with Mike had been lifechanging. It was the first time all of them had both given and received orgasms from the other two, and the experience had been something truly remarkable.

It started with an unusual request from Mike. He asked her if she would wax her pussy. It had been years since she’d waxed, and for good reason. It hurt like hell. But the prospect of him going down on her smooth, hairless pussy was too tempting to pass up. So she agreed.

He volunteered to do it for her, but then admitted he’d never done it before. Charmagne stepped in to help. Their ruse was obvious by then. By the time Charmagne lifted the last hairs off her vulva, Kali had received her very first orgasm from a woman’s fingers. It wouldn’t be her last that night.

The three of them moved fluidly together. One mind and one body, seeking nothing but endless pleasure. She and Charmagne shared Mike’s cock with their mouths, passing it back and forth, even licking and sucking on it together. After that, never a moment passed where one of the women didn’t have her mouth on the other.

The intensity of the orgasms Kali experienced when Charmagne ate her pussy were unlike any she’d ever had before. Not better, but distinct. They seemed more drawn out. They lingered. Like the fading rumble of thunder, long after the booming crash. But her world changed when Mike and Charmagne teamed up on her pussy at the same time.

While Charmagne sat on Kali’s face, Mike fucked her. He held her legs back the way he normally did, which elevated her ass off the bed and angled her pussy toward the ceiling. Charmagne leaned forward and took her clit into her mouth to suck on it. Earth-shattering doesn’t even being to describe the sensation. Mike had stimulated her clit before while fucking her, but what she felt then was on another level entirely. Pure, sensorial overload.

Kali tried to draw Charmagne’s clit into her mouth too, but it was too small to do much more than lick and kiss it, so that’s what she did, until the fire that raged in her pussy from their dual stimulations left her writhing in agonizing pleasure.

She felt her orgasm coming, but instead of the slow rising pressure she was used to, it surged. Wave after wave, like a violent, gathering storm brewing inside her. And then a precise moment came, just as the full fury of the maelstrom came thundering down on top of her, when Mike suddenly pulled out. She screamed and pushed and squirted onto Charmagne’s face.

Mind blowing. Literally. She was dazed after that, riding crest after crest as they continued to fuck her until she could handle no more.

She breathed deeply. The morning air smelled fresh and clean. As if reborn. Reinvigorated.

“Have you ever loved another woman?” she asked.

Charmagne contemplated the question for a long while. Then she hunched down and pulled her coat tighter, shivering.

“Just one.”

Shortly after dinner, as Endora and Grace lounged naked in their bunk together, stroking and kissing and talking quietly, Linda drifted through the open door to let the four harpies know that they could return to their former rooms now. The war was over. Endora had won.

When the last of them was gone, Linda lingered. She seemed in a daze, and Grace observed her melancholy demeanor.

“Is everything alright, Ms. Linda?”

She turned at the sound of her voice, and as they watched, her face shattered into a mask of grief. She took a heaving breath and broke down into tears. Grace jumped from the bed to go to her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. “What happened.”

Linda hid her face in her hand as anguished cries wracked her body. Her knees weakened, and Grace supported her, then led her to the nearest empty bunk.

“She’s gone!” she cried between heaving breaths, her words swallowed by a plaintive wail. “She’s gone!”

Endora cautiously crawled out of her bunk and looked at Grace, who stood next Linda, rubbing her back. Grace mouthed, “What do we do?” but she shrugged, then looked at Abby and Amelia, who’d been snuggling under the covers together when Linda walked in. The two girls watched her emotional breakdown with a mix of concern and fascination.

Finally, Endora said, “I’ll be right back. Just ... I don’t know. Keep her company.”

She flew downstairs to the nurse’s office. Renata turned and jerked her head back. “Endora! God, you girls! Would you just put some clothes on, please. You’ve made your point.”

“No, we haven’t,” she said defiantly. “Not yet. But forget about that. Linda’s in my room. I think she’s having a breakdown or something.”

“What?”

“Just come.”

When they were back upstairs, Renata kneeled by the bed. Linda was still in the throes of her crying fit. She lay on her side, grieving into the pillow.

“Hey, Linda,” Renata said in a soft voice, trying to roll her over. “Come on, honey. Let me help you downstairs, okay?”

Linda resisted her efforts to move her, jerking her shoulder away and curling up tighter.

“Can you give her something?” Endora asked.

Renata looked at her. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Like a tranquilizer, or something?”

Renata looked off to the side, contemplating. Then she got up to leave the room. She returned a few minutes later with a glass of water and something cupped in her hand.

“Linda, here. Take these. They’ll help you relax.”

Hiccupping and heaving, Linda turned to look at the proffered medication. She took it and popped it into her mouth, then she took the glass and gulped it, handing it back. Then she rolled back over to resume her grief-stricken episode.

Renata stood. “I’ll get someone to help me carry her out,” she said.

“Let her rest,” Grace said in a compassionate tone. “We’ll watch after her.”

“Are you sure?” Renata asked, her eyes drifting down Grace’s naked body. “Maybe it’s better if I get her down to the office.”

“What did you give her?” Endora asked.

“Lorazepam. Why?”

“Benzos?”

Renata regarded her with a curious look. “That’s right,” she said cautiously.

“She’ll be fine,” Endora assured her. “I know you’re short-staffed in the clinic today. Leave her here for now. I’ll come get you if we need you. Okay?”

Renata hesitated, still uncertain. She turned to consider Linda, then stood aside so Grace could drape a blanket over her. Finally she looked at Endora and nodded.

“Anything happens, you come get me. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Alright. I’ll come check on her later.” She looked at the two naked girls and sighed, shaking her head. “You girls,” she said under her breath as she departed.

When she’d gone, Endora closed the door. Then locked it.

The cool night air whipped Michelle’s hair back as she rode along with Mike in the golf cart to Charmagne’s house. Overhead, the aurora beckoned them with its long, waving, tendril arm through a small gap in the clouds. He told her to pack an overnight bag. She was sleeping over! With him!

Excitement and anxiety gripped her in equal measure. She was so nervous that she clasped her hands together and squeezed them between her thighs to keep them from shaking. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her breathing, forcing herself to calm down. He told her nothing of his plans. Anticipation. It had been foremost in her brief, and it was working. Too well. Her mind moved at light speed, imagining untold scenarios.

Did he already move the Bull to the house and get it running? If so, he was even more industrious than she gave him credit for. Then she frowned. She specifically told him she wanted it to happen in the basement.

Stop second guessing him! she chided herself. He knows what he’s doing. Trust him.

When he brought the cart to a stop in the driveway, her heart rate moved firmly into the triple digits and her trembling returned with a vengeance. He hopped out and walked to the front door.

“Grab your stuff,” he said without looking back.

She hustled to follow him inside and he closed the door behind her. Then he locked it. He locked it!

“Throw your shit anywhere,” he said, unclipping his radio from his belt.

As she removed her coat, she looked around. The house was well lit with dozens of candles. Mike went to the open concept kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets for a pair of glasses, then opened a lower cabinet door and pulled out a bottle. Alcohol of some kind. He unscrewed the lid, smelled it, then poured a little into each glass, leaving the bottle on the counter. He carried them to her and handed her one.

“Here.”

He didn’t offer to cheers with her, or anything hokey like that. He just handed it to her, then took a sip of his own as he wandered into the living room. Just as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do.

So cool.

She sniffed it. Something sweet and vegetal. Tequila maybe? Rum? She wasn’t sure. She took a sip and it burned like fire, and she had to force her throat to open up enough to swallow it. She coughed. Woah! That was some potent stuff.

“Grab a seat,” he said, gesturing to the sofa, as he sat in a nearby stuffed chair. “Let’s chat.”

She sat on the edge of the cushion with her legs together, resting her glass on her bare knees and clutching it with both hands. Compressing her body to keep her nervous shivering under control. He watched her carefully, studying her. She gave him a nervous smile.

“Alright,” he said, “Charmagne is going to stay the night at the dorm, so it’s just the two of us tonight.”

She nearly swooned. Oh. My. God.

“But I can’t fuck you on the Bull,” he said, and took a sip.

Her heart sank. “W-why not?”

“You’re not ready.”

His words cut her like a knife and shattered her hopes for a night of carnal savagery. She’d spent hours preparing herself. She brushed her teeth and flossed. She trimmed her nails. She loofahed every square inch of her body. Twice. She shaved her legs and pits. She shaved her pussy, leaving just a cute little patch of dark pubic hair atop her mons. She shaved her butthole. She plucked her eyebrows. She lotioned her body. Every orifice was as clean as she could possibly get it, within the limits of her finger’s reach.

He noted the disappointment on her face and said, “I’m sorry.” He finished his drink and set down the empty glass. “We need to train your pussy and asshole first to handle it, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Tonight. Right now.”

Her head popped up. “What?”

“Your brief the other day impressed the hell out of me, Michelle. I don’t think I’ve ever had a client be that detailed, or that certain, about what she wanted. Before we continue, though, I need to ask you some things.”

“What? Anything.”

“Have you and I ever had sex before?”

The implication of his question made her stomach churn. “No,” she said softly.

“Did we do anything?”

She swallowed hard. “I, uh ... I jacked you off a little.”

He nodded. “I see. Are you a virgin?”

She wasn’t sure. “I don’t know,” she answered truthfully.

“If you don’t know, then you are. Other than jacking me off, what other sexual experience do you have?”

This line of questioning was making her uncomfortable. She’d imagined this going a lot differently. More sexily.

“I got felt up once,” she said, feeling like an idiot for even mentioning it.

“Hey, good for you,” he said with a smile, making her feel better. “Masturbation?”

She nodded.

“Have you ever had anything inside you bigger than your finger?”

She shook her head.

“Okay. I think that’s enough.” He stood and tossed his head toward the back of the house. “Come on. You can bring that with you if you want.”

She followed him into the rear bedroom. More candles adorned the flat surfaces. She noticed a beach towel had been laid crosswise near the foot of a giant bed. The bed on which Mr. Messina, Mike, Daedalus the Artificer would soon fuck her. Getting near it was like approaching the big, scary roller coaster at the amusement park. She could already feel gravity lifting her stomach into her throat.

“There was only one problem with your brief,” he said when he stopped to face her, getting her attention and bringing her eyebrows together. “You had it backward. For you, the after part needs to come first. Take off your clothes.”

The glass slipped from her fingers and landed on the carpet with a muffled dink, spilling alcohol onto her shoes. He bent to pick it up for her and set it on the dresser, then stood back to wait, but she didn’t move.

“Take your time,” he said, but not in a sarcastic way. His tone was patient.

What are you doing? He just asked you to get naked.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Calm. Center. She kicked off her shoes and then willed her hands to move. They unbuttoned her blouse. Her cutest one. The white one with little red hearts on it. She didn’t bother with a bra that evening, because she didn’t want him to see that it was padded. Her corduroy skirt was next. Unzipped in the back, it slipped easily over her narrow hips. Only her panties remained. The only sexy pair she owned. She hooked her thumbs underneath the waistband and slid them down.