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The Word IF

Page history last edited by Sea Foam 5 years, 3 months ago

     “Pissing rain.” The boy cowering under the bus shelter contemplated it again. It’d been months since he last sat on this same bus stop, contemplating the same thing. When was the bus going to get here? Once again even the steamy interior of a public bus was beginning to sound welcoming to him. He glanced from his watch to the washed-out schedule and sighed.

 

     All that time away at school and he still hadn’t changed at all. He was still timid, still cowardly and still completely at a loss for what to do. If his roommates were right at all becoming a manwhore was the solution, but that didn’t sit right with him. Maybe if he’d gotten the stones to help that woman getting attacked by the dog last time he was out he’d have made some progress, but he’d just kept his head down and watched until the animal’s owner finally came out. He didn’t know why, but he always seemed to think back to that day as if he’d missed some chance. Maybe he’d just stay like this forever...

 

     The wind shifted, bringing smells to Isaac’s nose strong enough to overpower the scent of wet earth. Flowers, yeast, butter and garlic. There was a flower shop right across the street, but the other scents flowed from the open door of a bakery at the other end of the block. The boy wished for a moment that he’d packed a snack before the sound of something thumping against a window brought his mind away from his stomach.

 

     He peered across the street. The water falling from the sky like the tears of a weeping god was a veil between the other side of the street and the boy, but he pierced through it with seeking eyes. His gaze settled on a woman leaning heavily against the glass of a shop window and holding her head in her hand. As he watched she staggered a few steps away from the window, then collapsed behind the row of cars next to the street.

 

     There it was again. Once again he could sit on the bus stop and do nothing while forming yet another memory he would come to regret. Or he could stand and go see what was wrong. All he had to do was walk over and say ‘are you okay?’ Three simple words. He could do that, right? It was the natural thing to do. The boy took a deep breath and dashed across the street—after looking left, right, and then left again, of course.

 

     He found the woman on her back and giggling at the sky. Long blonde hair that ran past her shoulders had turned into little more than a yellow mat beneath her as she squirmed beneath the pouring rain. Her coat, an elegant black fur lined parka, still kept her torso dry, but the rain already on the ground and still falling was quickly soaking through her deep red slacks. The was probably some seeping through the top of the patent leather heels she wore, but there was no doubt that her scarlet lined black cape was soaked straight through. The boy carefully stepped around the wide spread cloth as he moved closer to her face and crouched.

 

     “Um,” he managed to croak out, “are you alright?”

The woman kicked the ground gleefully, sending up a splash of water. “Alrigh’? I feel shuper! Shuper alrigh’!”

“O...kay. I think maybe you should get up now.” The boy took her deathly cold hand, then stood and pulled.

“Awww,” the woman whined without resisting his efforts to help her to her feet. As she rose to her full height she stumbled forward, apparently unable to keep her balance and nearly knocked the boy over as she fell into him for balance. She was tall. Even without the heels he probably would’ve come to her neck, with them the boy only rose to her shoulder. He had to admit it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but she held on for way too long after getting her legs back under her.

“Do you mind maybe, uh, letting go?” Was she drunk? She didn’t smell like alcohol, but then it’d be hard to tell with the smell from the bakery so strong where they stood.

“What if I don’ wanna, cutie?” She grinned, revealing pearly white teeth and a set of unusually long canines.

“Um, that would be a little, uh…” C-cute?

 

    Over the sound of his own heartbeat and the woman’s shoulder covering most of his vision the boy almost missed the bus driving past them.

“Wait!”

He struggled to wiggle free and run after it, but the woman holding him was incredibly strong; he could barely budge. His shoulders slumped as the vehicle pulled away with nothing but a beautiful woman’s softness and the sound of rain on her cape to comfort him.

 

He sighed.

 

“Ohhhh? Was tha’ yooooooour bus? Lynx can give you a ride, y’know.”

“Who’s Lynx?”

The woman removed on hand long enough to point at herself. “Meeeeee.”

“Uh, I think you’ve had a little too much to drink to drive.” Or walk, apparently.

“I’m not drunk, jus’ need ta get outta the rainy rain. My car’s righ’ over there.”

Lynx pulled a remote out of a pocket and the lights on a nearby Bentley flashed. Whoa.

“C’mon,” the woman cooed, “it’s got heated seats~” The boy struggled to protest, but Lynx traded her vicelike hug for an iron grip and dragged him towards the sedan. As soon as the door was in reach Lynx tossed it open, bodily threw the boy in, then clambered on top of him and closed the door with her foot.

“W-wait a minute—”  The boy protested, but Lynx forced his hand on top of her head and nuzzled into it.

“Hey, pat my ‘ead the way I like.”

“I don’t know how you like it! Ms. Lynx I’m really uncom—”

“You’re a man, aren’t you?” The woman grumbled as she reached into the seat pocket. “Erry man should know ‘ow to pat a woman’s head.” The boy opened his mouth to protest, but before he could Lynx pulled out a bottle of Febreeze air freshener and held down the trigger until the scent inside the car was so strong it made his nose burn.

“Okay, maybe you should stop now!” That was enough to finally make her pull her finger off the trigger, but Lynx didn’t move from his lap, instead opting to wallow on top of them while she hugged the can to her chest and giggled.

“I love that smell, so fresh and clean (squiggle) Not like garlic at all!”

“Yeah… okay.” The boy didn’t know what to do, so he patted Lynx’s head in that same way one would pat the back of someone they really didn’t want to hug.

 

    Desperately laid plans for escape were just starting to materialize in the boy’s mind when that hazy look began to fade from Lynx’s face. Those pretty blue eyes finally focused properly and took on an intensity such that the boy couldn’t even bring himself to meet them anymore. Lynx bolted upright and looked at the boy like she was seeing him for the first time. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he went with his default option in such situations: he cowered against the nearest solid object.

“Um…”

“Silence.”

 

    Lynx massaged her temples as she regained her composure, ignoring the boy flattening himself against the door. Her transformation was uncanny; the bubbly woman hardened into a thing of ice as if she breathed in the heavily perfumed air. She crossed her legs before turning to regard the boy again. The boy felt naked under the weight of her stare and endeavored to sink through the obstacle at his back.

Lynx nodded, as if pleased at his reaction. “You will tell no one what transpired today. You will do your best to forget it yourself and you most certainly will not look down on me because you saw me in a brief moment of weakness. Are we clear?” The boy nodded fervently. “Good. Now then, do me one more service and pick up my bag.”

“Bag?”

“My shopping bag. Surely you saw it.”

“I was only looking at you.”

“Oh? Words like that will make a girl think of a different meaning, you know.”

“I-I wasn’t—”

“Yes, I had the feeling. Nevermind that though, just go get it.”

 

     Without really even knowing why the boy opened the door and clambered out of the car. Near where he’d found Lynx lying on the ground there was a glossy pink and gold paper bag from a nearby jewelry store. From the looks of it it was one of their larger bags, and it was bulging full of black velvet jewelry boxes. He carefully picked it up with one hand supporting the bottom to make sure the weight of the contents didn’t break through the weakened paper.

 

     That done, he headed back to the car and reached for the back door’s handle before noticing that Lynx was now in the driver’s seat. That was weird; he hadn’t heard the door open, did she climb up front inside the car? Whatever, he gingerly opened the front passenger door and set the bag on the seat.

“Here you go. Have a nice night.”

Lynx’s eyebrow cocked. “No no, you must let me repay your kindness.”

“Ah, that’s okay really, I just did it because I wanted to.”

“It’s not okay. I collapsed on the ground and you came to my aid rather than simply leaving me or taking the opportunity to steal my purchases. On top of that you’re soaking wet and you look like a drowned rat; at least let me provide you with a shower and a dry set of clothes.”

“I was already wet anyway, so—”

“You would slight me by denying my hospitality?”

“No, but—”

“Then. Get. In.”

 

     Once again the boy was cowed, and sullenly slid into the passenger’s seat. His attempt at changing himself had resulted in him being bullied into doing something he didn’t really want to do yet again, but at least Lynx’s intent was kind. Well, probably. He hadn’t liked the way she looked at him after she’d recovered earlier, but maybe that was his imagination. He was pretty panicky after all.

 

     The woman silently started the car and pulled away from her parking spot as the boy ruminated on his actions for the day, losing himself within his thoughts until she spoke.

“What’s your name, boy?”There was a superstition, an old one, among Cokyne’s residents that if you gave someone your true name it could be used to control you. It sounded a lot like voodoo, but to that day it was still a custom amongst parahumans even on Earth not to give out their real name because of it. Of course, back home there weren’t many parahumans so he didn’t have one. His mother’s nicknames were all embarrassing and he hated what his roommates called him too. What to do? Desperate for a name the boy’s head darted to and fro looking for inspiration. Gearshift? No. Glovebox? No. Coat? No.

“Mouse,” the woman said.

“Huh?”

“You took too long to answer, so I’ll call you Mouse. You remind of one with that vulnerable nature of yours and the way your head darts around.”

“Mouse, huh?” Hardly a flattering nickname, but it was better than what he was likely to come up with and he had to admit it fit. He sighed. “Fine.”

 

    Mouse began to feel more comfortable in the woman’s presence as the drive continued, to the point that he finally worked up the courage to speak.

“So,uh, Ms. Lynx? What was that earlier? I thought you might’ve been drinking, but as soon as you layed down for a bit…” Mouse kindly left out the ‘on top of me’ that should’ve followed.

“That? Just a touch of… anemia. The blasted wind caught me off guard.”

What did wind have to do with anemia?

“Oh… I see. So the shopping, are you getting married or something?”

“Me? No man has shown himself worthy, this is just personal shopping.”

 

    Seriously? She probably had enough gold in there to deck out a small army of bridesmaids. It was obvious from the car she was loaded though, maybe she could afford it. Mouse wished she’d just tossed him a fifty and let him go.

 

    The stunted conversations continued until Lynx guided the car up a small hill in what looked like a ritzy neighborhood. At the very top there was a sprawling estate centered around what could readily be described as a mansion. Lynx took the car past an automatic gate up the driveway to that palatial building. Mouse flattened his face against the glass despite himself.

“Wow, this place is amazing! My roommates said it belonged to some scary vampire, but I guess it was actually yours!”

“...Yes.”

 

    Two men hurried out to the car as she stopped it in front of the door. One carried a two-person umbrella and seemed intent to escort Lynx to the door before she took it from him and sent him back inside. The other wordlessly opened Mouse’s door as Lynx walked around to cover him, then walked around to slide into the driver’s seat and drove the car away. Lynx led the boy up a set of steps and past a set of large wooden doors opened as she approached by another set of servants. In the foyer another servant bowed at her approach. He looked to be in his mid to late thirties, with black hair and a ponytail down to his shoulders. Despite wearing the same uniform consisting of black pants, shoes, vest and white collared shirt, but his air somehow put him above the others Mouse had seen so far.

“Welcome home, Mistress Lynx,” he intoned in a voice fitting of a butler.

“Frederick, this is Mouse, my guest. See to it that we have him bathed and dry.”

“Of course, Mistress.” Frederick looked over Mouse with the same gaze his mistress used earlier. Mouse found himself frozen once again, unable to look away. “And yourself,” the butler asked without taking his eyes from Mouse.

“I’ll have that taken care of elsewhere tonight.”

 

     There was the sound of zippers begin undone, and one of the servants strode past Mouse with her jacket and umbrella in hand. When Frederic finally turned his eyes back to Lynx the boy glanced sideways to see her standing confidently despite her sloppy hair, now see-through white blouse and the chill she must be feeling. Mouse quickly looked away so that he didn’t linger too long on the lacy outline of her bra, but he still noticed that she hadn’t taken off her cape.

“Would you like a spot of tea when you finish?”

“Yes. Prepare two cups and one for yourself. No more.”

“Plenty of… sweetener?”

“You know without asking.”

“Very good. Well then, please come this way, Master Mouse.”

 

    The butler turned and lead the boy up a large flight of stairs, past several closed doors and into a bathroom almost the size of Mouse’s apartment.

“Whoa.”

“Would you prefer a bath or a shower, Master Mouse?”

“A shower, I guess.”

“And how hot would you like your shower, sir?”

“Not too hot, but not cold either. Um, sorry if that’s confusing. I can adjust it myself if you want”

“I understand completely, sir. It’s no trouble at all.” Frederick walked over to a gigantic walk-in shower stall separate from the bathtub, slid back the frosted doors and twisted the knobs until he was satisfied with the temperature. “Well then,” the butler said as he placed two towels in what looked like a toaster oven, “I sense you to be the type to wash oneself, so your towel will be warm and waiting when you’re done, and there is a robe behind the door. Enjoy, sir.”

“Ah, thanks.” You could pay people to wash you? He’d thought only nurses did that.

“Oh, and I will be in to retrieve your wet clothes, but please pay me no mind.”

“Okay.”

 

    The butler bowed, and then was gone. Now alone and without any eyes on him, Mouse quickly stripped, entered the shower and closed the door behind himself. The water streamed not from a single head, but from a bar across the long wall such that the entire shower was sprayed with a uniform pattern. There were controls he noticed, but he didn’t touch them. He didn’t want to after Frederick had set everything up so well.

 

     The bathroom door opened as Mouse studied the various soaps and shampoos on a shelf on the wall nearest the door. As promised, the sound of wet cloth being scooped up could be heard over the falling water, then the door shut and he was alone again. The boy opted for one of the more expensive brands of soap and lathered himself up well before the water—gallons of it, that shower must’ve been really pricey to run—washed it away.

 

     The door opened a second time and Mouse turned to look at the sound. Had Frederick forgotten something? Or maybe his clothes were dry already? No, that wasn’t likely. Weird.

“Hello?”

No answer came, but a figure approached the glass. A very feminine figure, it quickly became apparent as its owner neared the door. Was it naked?

“Um, are you one of the maids?”

“Don’t insult me,” Lynx’s voice answered. The figure threw the door open, and Mouse had just enough time to register a vast expanse of pale skin before a hand shot out to cover his eyes and another spun him around. “I have not given you permission to look upon me, boy!” The statement was practically barked, an even stronger version of the tone that so easily cowed him earlier. Even though he wanted to turn to face the woman now sharing a shower with him Mouse obediently kept his back to her and covered himself with his hands.

“What are you doing?!” he still managed to demand.

“I’ve come to wash your back.”

“I can wash it myself!”

“Once again you intend to refuse my hospitality?”

“N-no it’s just this is really weird and I’m naked and s-so are you and—”

“Enough of your stammering. Put your hands on the wall.”

“B-but—”

“Now!” Mouse flinched under the command.

 

     Reluctantly, he turned and put the hand covering his butt on the wall. Though the water was warm the stone beneath his fingers still maintained a trace of its former coolness.

“Both of them.”

That was the hand covering his p-penis! If Mouse moved that, he’d be even more naked in front of this complete stranger!

“S-shouldn’t one of the maids be doing this?”

“A maid, and not a butler? So you do want a woman to touch you.”

“That’s not what I m—”

“Unfortunately I don’t have any maids here, and I’ve dismissed all but one butler. Unless you’d like Frederick to help you you’ll have to settle for moi. I assure you, what you hide under that hand is nothing I’ve not seen before, so move it. Now.”

 

    Mouse shakily complied, standing with his palms pressed against the glass and his thighs smashed together. Lynx covered a loofah in on of the more fragrant soaps and began to work on his back. The boy flinched under each stroke as if struck by a whip. Lynx didn’t stop but rather continued scrubbing, giggling at his reactions until she dropped the sponge.

“A-are you done now?” The boy asked, still fighting the urge to turn.

“With the loofah, but not with you.”

 

    A set of manicured nails dragged down the water softened skin of his back, sending a shiver down his spine. Lynx alternated, first scraping with her nails, then rubbing at his back with soapy fingers. The experience would’ve been erotic if the boy wasn’t so thoroughly freaked out. On one downstroke Lynx snaked her right arm under his armpit and up to the opposite shoulder. Mouse had begun relaxing despite himself under the stimulation, but that movement forced the softness of her breasts against him and he stiffened at the contact.

“Why—”

“Shhhhh.” Lynx brought a finger to Mouse’s lip with her free hand and the complaint working its way out died in his throat. “You really are an interesting one, you know,” Lynx whispered in his ear as her right hand moved down to stroke his side. “Most men would’ve struggled more before I got them here, maybe made me use a few of my tricks. Not you though, you’re so innocent and pure all it took was a few stern words and a little sweetness and here you are, naked and waiting.”

“Miss Lynx, I really want to go home now.” The sentence was more a squeak than a statement. Mouse could tell without testing her hold that she wouldn’t be letting go so easily. He was trapped. Naked and trapped.

 

    The woman holding the boy bent down and took a lick at the nape of his neck. Everywhere her tongue touched a tingling heat warmer than even the shower sank into his skin. Mouse shut his eyes at the contact, the they bulged open when he realized what that tingling meant. Parahuman!

“STOP! PLEASE LET GO!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Lynx simply chuckled and flattened his body against the wall with inhuman strength. “No.”

“PLEASE HELP, SOMEBODY!”Mouse screamed as he flailed against the grip at his chest and the pressure forcing him against the wall with all his feeble might. “I MEAN IT, STOP! HEEELLLLLP!”

“‘Help, help,’’ Lynx parroted in falsetto between more leisurely licks at Mouse’s defenseless nape. “You really are naive.”

 

    The woman yanked Mouse’s head to the side with her free hand and plunged. Two points of dull pressure punched into the band of burning hot skin Lynx’s tongue left behind. A pleasant numbness radiated from the point of contact like a wave. It ran down Mouse’s left arm and the limb fell limp. It crept up his neck and the boy’s head sagged into the hand pulling it. Then it reached his head and the real magic happened.

 

    It was as if a wet blanket muffled his thoughts. The screeching of primal alarm bells faded into an annoying dinging in the distance and a pleasant quiet pervaded through the inside of his skull. Yet at the same time a buzzing excitement built up. It was a sexual excitement, of the sort the boy felt when he heard or witnessed something during the day that he knew would bring another embarrassing wet dream in the night. A dopey smile lifted the corners of his mouth in time with the rising of his erection; every other part of his body fell limp, surrendering to gravity and Lynx’s embrace.

“There’s a good boy,” the woman cooed. “I’ll even allow you to look upon me now.” She let go after clapping a hand to his wound and Mouse slumped to the ground, rolling onto his back when his shoulder hit the floor.

 

    The woman before him was a vision of beauty; he hadn’t noticed it under the bulk of her clothing, but Lynx had a stunning figure. Hair of gold, eyes of blue ice, and skin like driven snow caught the eye if you so much as glanced upon her face. Breasts the size of a perfect handful stood proud on her chest like the rest of her stood proud over the boy lying on the tile. The woman’s waist tucked in neatly before flaring out into the kind of hips that fashion designers dreamed of. Her legs too were exquisite, like a sculptor had taken his vision of the perfect woman and carved her out of the finest marble. Mouse’s penis twitched. And her cape—no, wings , Mouse belatedly realized as she lifted them to shield their heads from the water—of black and scarlet were just imposing enough to match her sneer.

“Did you know, little Mouse?” Lynx began as she bent down to be nearer his face, “they say that things as pure and beautiful as you are the most fun to break.”

“Break?”

“Yes, Mouse. You.”

He smiled.

 

    The stunning woman stood and regarded Mouse as if deciding what to do. She snapped her fingers.

“Boy, turn off the water.” Mouse’s body felt numb and all too light, but he wobbled to his feet and stumbled forward to twist the knobs the opposite way Frederick had. “Good. Now get a towel and dry me.”

 

    Lynx’s words came like honey to the boy’s ears. There was nothing especially compelling about her tone or choice of words, but they came from her, and suddenly that meant something. Mouse obeyed, willing his feet to bring him to the warmer from earlier before clumsily pulling out one hot towel. He could obey.

 

    Truly, Lynx was a marvel. It was an honor to dry her hair hair, to touch her arms if only through a towel. After he finished wiping down that flawless back and those gorgeous wings Mouse rounded the other side of her body. She had exquisite breasts, finely shaped and with nipples the prettiest shade of pink. Such bold acts would normally be beyond him, but in this state the boy found his hands drawn to them. He wanted to touch those breasts, to worship them in a new way. As if in a trance he dropped the towel and inched closer. Closer. A savage slap sent Mouse sprawling to the ground.

“Did I tell you to touch me? I’m no object to satisfy your filthy sexual desire, understand? Try again and do it properly.”

“Y-yes,” Mouse stammered as he picked himself up. “Sorry, Lynx.”

The woman’s eyebrow cocked. “‘Lynx?’ No, that’s what you would call me if we were equals. Say my name again.”

“Miss Lynx?”

“Still not there, boy.”

“Mistress… Lynx?”

“Gooood. Now get a towel—not the one that you dropped on the ground, the clean one—and finish.”

 

     Mouse dutifully took the other towel and completed his task. This time he had learned his place; he didn’t make the mistake of trying to touch the mistress directly, but still perhaps dried certain spots a bit too well. Still, Mistress Lynx’s hushed sighs weren’t discouraging. After he’d completed the command, however, another problem presented itself: namely, the boy himself was still drenched.

“Mistress Lynx, I’m still wet.”

“Then dry yourself..”

“But they’re all used.”

“And whose fault is that? Would you have me dried with a dirty towel from the floor?”

“N-no, but…”

“Had you done as you were told without dropping anything you’d still have a perfectly dry one waiting for you, Mouse. I’m not a cruel master, but this is your punishment for failure.”

“I see. Sorry mistress.”

 

    Both towels were damp and cold but Mouse dutifully patted himself as dry as he could while the mistress dressed. A gloved hand slapped his away as Mouse reached for the robe left for him.

‘You won’t be needing that,” Lynx informed him as he turned to her.

 

    Maybe ‘dressing’ had been the wrong choice of word. The mistress stood before Mouse in naught but a garterbelt with stockings and a pair of elbow gloves. All were sheer, all were black, and even without looking closely one knew they were made of the finest arachne silk and made by people that could only be described as artisans. The fuzz filling Mouse’s head was beginning to thin, but that sight was enough to stop his thoughts anyway; his mouth gaped open before the boy recovered what little of his wits remained to him.

“Y-yes, mistress. But won’t it be cold?”

“What of it? Does a dog complain when walked in cold weather?”

“Ah, um, mine did, mistress. Whenever I had to wear coat he’d tug back at the leash unless e got a blanket or—” Lynx’s gaze was suddenly sharp as she stepped forward to grasp his chin and yank it upwards.

“I see,” she hissed. “You have a surprisingly strong will hidden in there, hmm? Very well, if one taste wasn’t enough I will fill you with myself again and again until you understand what it is to be mine.” The chill of those words broke through even the warm fuzziness inside of Mouse’s head. “Now come, I’ll have you where I want you by the end of the night.”

 

    Lynx lead the way out of the bathroom and down a hall. Mouse was right, it was cold. Even ignoring that, he was naked. The urge to cover himself was great, but Lynx’s command earlier seemed to shock his arms every time he moved to do so; he settled for hunching forward instead. Her bedroom was gigantic, all lavish red and dark wood.

“Lay down with your hands on the headboard,” Lynx instructed as they entered the room. Mouse did so and practically sank into the down of her comforter.

 

    There was a tea set on a silver next to the bed with two steaming cups of black tea, a stoppered vial of amber liquid, and for some reason a riding crop. Lynx pulled up a chair and sat with her legs crossed, staring at Mouse with a stern expression.

“W-what is it, Mistress?” the boy asked when the silence became too much to bear.

 

“Give me your arm.”

 

     Lynx took the limb when the boy presented it and, as casually as one would an apple, bit into it. Without the numbing effect of her saliva Mouse felt a stabbing pain as both fangs punctured his flesh. The feeling was momentary though; the pain had to race that wonderful numbing sensation as is spread outward. As the numbness radiated outward every muscle in Mouse’s body relaxed once again and he sank deeper into the comforter. Then came that slow feeling in his head. He was really starting to like that; it was like he was silly for ever worrying at all.

“There, isn’t that better?” Lynx asked as Mouse’s will gave in to the power of her bite. He nodded dreamily as she brought a hand to his bite. When she lifted it away the bleeding had stopped and only a faint dimple remained.

“Of course it is. That’s how you should feel when you obey me.” she smiled as she picked up  the riding crop. “And when you don’t…” There was a sharp crack as she brought the leather down on Mouse’s thigh. “That’s how you should feel. Put your hand back on the headboard like I told you. Good. Do you like tea, boy?”

Mouse didn’t answer, too lost in the feeling in his head and the pleasure of being paid so much attention by a beautiful woman. Lynx smacked the crop on his chest. “Answer!”

“Yes!”

“I see.” The woman took a sip from a cup before continuing. “I like mine black, but you, you like yours sweet.” She made a show of opening the vial and draining its contents into the other cup. “Here, drink.”

 

    A gift from the mistress! Lynx brought the cup to his lips and Mouse drank. The tea was sickeningly sweet, but Mistress Lynx said he liked it the way she made it, so surely that must mean he did. He downed all of the perfectly sweetened beverage in one go, and lay coughing as the last bit went down the wrong pipe. At least the Mistress was pleased.

“have you ever used alraune nectar before?” She asked as she sat back and took another sip of tea. “It’s frightfully powerful, especially the high quality variety. You just drank enough to fuel an orgy you know, greedy boy. Aren’t you glad your Mistress is so giving?”

 

    Mouse nodded, but his attention was elsewhere. Heat consumed his body and lust lapped at his mind. The Mistress’ lips, her breasts, her legs, even her feet. His penis strained into the air, painfully erect as myriad images of things he wanted to do—no, to have done to him flashed through his mind like a slide show too fast to see, but still burning into his mind.

“What’s this?” Lynx ran a single gloved finger up the trail of precum oozing from Mouse’s penis. His hips bucked. “Oh, did that feel good?” The only response Mouse could muster was a desperate grunt. “Should I do it more?” Grunt.

 

     Lynx giggled, and crawled into the bed on the boy’s opposite side, laying with her body nestled against his with one hand on his penis. Her breasts were touching him. So much of her was so close. Mouse’s hand inched away from the headboard, though whether to bring himself relief or touch the woman beside him he did not know.

“No!” Three sharp cracks from the crop made Mouse’s thigh burn. He whimpered something like an apology, but couldn’t seem to finish. Lynx cooed into his ear as he struggled. “Poor thing, you drank too much. I can make it better if I touch you, but in return you’re going to repeat what I say. Believe it. Live it. Love it. Can you do that? You can? Oh, wonderful. Then let’s start. ‘I am Mistress’s belonging. I live for her sake. Her happiness is my own, no matter what should befall me.”

 

    Each oath the boy repeated came with another stroke. Every stroke sent him closer to relief. Yes, Mistress Lynx’s words were pleasure, life itself.They sank into his mind and he embraced them like the worthless toy he was. Then the stimulation stopped as Lynx propped herself up to look down on him.

“Do you know what would make this feel even better? Another bite!” Of course! Knowing that the Mistress was sinking her fangs into him and the exquisite afterglow was the one thing that could make her touch rock his mind even more. He couldn’t find the breath to plea, so Mouse’s entreaty came as a slightly different gaping of his mouth and a head pitifully turned to expose his nape. Lynx smiled.

“You even taught yourself how to beg properly! Good boy..” The silk-wrapped hand around his member moved slowly as the woman lapped at his neck, sending more heat, more tingling into skin already practically overloaded with pleasure. Then she bit, her fangs sinking into sweaty skin and violating the boy’s body with magic to bring paradise.

“Ah, you’re close, aren’t you, little Mouse?” Lynx asked after stopping his bleeding once again without stopping her slow ministrations of his penis. “Then cum, and give yourself to me.”

 

    Cum he did. The semen shooting from Mouse’s tortured cock was like a fountain, splattering all over the black glove stroking it, his chest, and the sheets. It might’ve hit one of them in the face had Lynx not pointed it up. A single shot robbed the boy of all his strength and he passed out as the last of his orgasm washed over him. Yet he was still hard.

 

    Until that point Lynx hadn’t swallowed more than the few drops of blood that stuck to her fangs, but her time was now. The bite of a vampire weakened the will of the human receiving it, making their minds more malleable to the suggestions of the one that bit them in a very permanent way. However, the first few tastes of new blood did the same to a vampire. As such, there was an imprinting of sorts between vampire and human the first time or two they were together. The wise thing to do, as the monster that turned Lynx herself had relayed, was to break the human before drinking so that she would always be in control with no risk of the lowly human claiming a spot of dignity.

 

    He had broken. Lynx treated herself to a long sip of blood from the boy’s panting body and revelled in the happy lightheaded new blood, new spirit energy brought. IT was absolutely divine. On top of that, it gave her an excuse to let go a little and do something… dirty. Something dirty with the dripping slit between her legs, she thought as she looked down to Mouse’s twitching penis. Hmm…

 

    Mouse awoke with a start at a knock on the door, but failed to move his exhausted body enough to sit. He’d woken to Lynx’s wild sexual venting several times during the night after the mistress made him pass out from the feeling of being with her, and he probably didn’t want to think about how much blood he’d lost. He hadn’t rested at all, so it was a small mercy that the person knocking at the door let themselves in.

 

    It was Frederick with a large plate of food on a lap tray. He entered with a cheery smile and set the food down on a night stand before helping the boy to sit.

“Good morning, Master Mouse. I trust you didn’t sleep well?”

“You guessed it.”

“I didn’t guess sir, I heard it all the down at my quarters.” With a chuckle the butler lifted the tray and set it up in the boy’s lap.

 

    At that moment a schism occured within him. There was Isaac, the boy, who wanted to wolf down the food and get out of Dodge as fast he could limp, then there was Mouse, the Mistress’ new pet, that wanted to ensure his mistress was well fed and comfortable. Isaac snatched at the tray to stuff his face, but found instead that his hands gently moved the tray to his side.

“Wake up Mistress, Frederick brought food for you.” What? No, that wasn’t what Isaac wanted to say. He’d thank the butler, maybe, but not give up the food!

“That won’t be necessary, Master Mouse. The mistress will be quite full after your escapades last night. You should focus on resting and regaining your strength for now. I’m sure you’ve lost quite a bit of blood, no?”

“Yes, but we should at least leave so we don’t wake her, right?” Mouse asked.

“Forget the food, just let me go home!” Isaac tried to plead. His lips didn’t even twitch.

“She’s a vampire, Master Mouse,” Frederick chided. “Rousing her before dusk would be like—pardon the expression—waking the dead. Why don’t you eat now and we’ll see to cleaning the two of you up later, sir.”

 

    Mouse ate and drank heartily until the sun set. When she woke, Lynx found him as well as the room and her body, clean and waiting for her command. It was a simple one: move into the mansion. Who wouldn’t want to be near their new toy, after all? Even though Mouse’s skin stayed a fairly healthy pink Isaac paled. That was going beyond putting a lamb in a lion’s den, it was making the lamb move in and let the lion play with its throat. Isaac wanted desperately to escape, but Mouse sat down and had a talk with his mistress about his roommates.

 

    People saw him for a few hours publicly every weekday so they at least knew he wasn’t dead, but after that he spent his time with Lynx. Sometimes they talked, sometimes he was a chair, still other times he was a plaything, but always the Mistress drank. Because she slept during the day Mouse rarely got much sleep during the normal hours, having to steal a few hours of rest between when the sun rose and when he had to be at class or, more often, sleeping during class. His grades suffered. There was little time to study under Mistress Lynx’s constant demands and to make things worse Mouse’s thoughts wandered to her even when he was away so no notes were taken.

 

     As the weeks wore on Mouse sometimes skipped class altogether; the sun made him feel tired and anemia already made it hard enough to walk around campus. Years spent getting grades and standardized exam scores that would make any college accept him and thousands in out of state tuition fees went to waste as Mouse snuggled deeper into his Mistress’ embrace. Isaac struggled desperately, willing Mouse to put in some effort. Sometimes the boy even went over the day’s lectures—if he’d gone—in his head while he tried to distance himself from what was being done to Mouse’s body, but it was all for naught. Mouse controlled the hands, Mouse took the tests, and Mouse didn’t give a damn anymore.

 

    Isaac’s dream of attending MGCU, of learning, had been warped into a blood colored nightmare there was no waking from. Worse, no one would come to help him. He’d severed the one local connection he had when he moved out of his apartment and, to make things worse, his story wasn’t so strange that anyone else would bat an eyelash. He was just a boy that moved away from home, maybe found alcohol or perhaps a girl—not at all uncommon in Monte Granito City—and lost focus. Anyone that had noticed him would bemoan it as a waste and that would be the end of it.

 

    The only people that hadn’t written Isaac off were his parents. They called almost daily now, clearly worried about him. Of course, a number of those calls were something he couldn’t respond to anyway because Lynx was asleep during the day and forbid Mouse to use the phone without her there to listen in and guide his responses. For the most part she let Mouse tell the truth about his situation. Yes, he was happy. Yes, he was healthy aside from that unmentioned anemia thing. No, he wasn’t doing well in school. That tidbit came as a shock to his parents; Isaac had always been studious. Moreover, he didn’t seem to care.

 

    Every time they talked Isaac begged for Lynx to screw up, to make Mouse say something that would send his parents into a panic so they’d come check on him. Surely if they saw how pale he was or how horrifyingly empty his eyes looked they’d whick him away back home or farther if he was lucky. True to her name Lynx didn’t slip up once; all she did was use a carefully tailored truth to drive a wedge between Isaac and his last hope of salvation.

 

    It all came to a head one night. Mouse sat in Lynx’s lap, naked as usual and hard under her gentle caress. After flunking everything across the board for the second semester straight his parents demanded to know what on earth happened. The Mistress smiled before whispering into his ear.

”Tonight is the night, my little Mouse. You know what to do.” Of course he did; he would do the same thing he did every waking moment of his life now: obey his Mistress. “You got a girlfriend recently. A nice little arachne, but horny like a rabbit. Tell them about her.”

“Ah, um, I got a girlfriend.” Outwardly the comment sounded like Mouse’s usual hesitancy, but he was actually stalling to come up with a lie. The cover was perfect entirely by accident and even the beginning of what was to come unnerved Isaac.

“Isaac…” his mother sighed while his dad knowingly chuckled on the other side. “We know you’re going to run into some girl or another at college, but you can’t let her distract you like this! Your entire future is on the line!” It wasn’t on the line, Isaac realized. If Mouse didn’t slip his future was already over. In the confines of his own head, the boy prayed.

 

     Oblivious to the woe occurring in his own skull, mouse continued without another prompt.

“But she’s really nice. She makes me clothes and everything.” Mouse knew he didn’t need to present the fact that his ‘girlfriend’ was a monster. They’d bring that up themselves in due time.

“Isaac,” Dad chided, “If you keep up like this we’re going to have to bring you home.” Please! “We thought you might be ready for something new, but if you can’t handle the city that’s all that’s left.”

There was a brief dramatic pause as Dad let his words sink in before Mom timidly spoke again.

“This girlfriend of yours… she is human, right?”

“She’s an arachne.”

 

    There it was. One of the two on the other side of the phone someone sucked air in through their teeth. Probably Mom, she was afraid of spiders, as Mouse once told Lynx.

“Nicely done,” Mistress Lynx complimented the boy as she redoubled the speed of her stroking. “Keep it up and I’ll give you a reward.”

“Isaac!” Mom was the first back on her feet. “We told you about dealing with those-those-things before you left!”

“Son, we’re talking about your damn—your darn soul here! Break up with this whatever she is and come back, now!”

“I thought we taught you better than this!”

From where she sat Mouse couldn’t see Lynx’s face, but the sneer in must’ve held was clearly audible in her voice when she leaned forward again to whisper into his ear.

"Tell them that they're worthless as parents and they're the reason why you flunked. Tell them you hate them. Say it with feeling."

 

    No no no! Mouse beat on the soundproof glass of his mind until his fists bled, begging for even a murmur of what he really wanted to say to pass his lips. It wasn’t true! None of it! Isaac loved his parents! This wasn’t their fault, it was his for being stupid! If someone would just come help they could all be a family again!

 

     Mouse shared none of those feelings and set into his parents mercilessly.

“Raised me better? You’re the reason I ended up with one in the first place. All that time you spent making sure I never ran across anything that wasn’t human? All those times you drilled into how disgusting monsters were? It was all a lie! Every time I look into her eyes after we fuck I tell her how great it is that I was so naive so she could snatch me up! I got here and I realized I didn’t know anything about anything, all because of the two of you! Were you hoping I wouldn’t end up like my brother? Huh? Well too goddamn bad, because now I understand why he acted the way he did! We were so goddamn sheltered when we finally saw the world it was like getting hit by a truck!”

 

     Mouse’s breath came in pants as his emotions, fabricated or not, and his Mistress’ love on his penis flowed freely. The worst part was that this time Lynx wasn’t actually telling Mouse what to say, only guiding him; these words were be ing dredged from the bottom of his own soul.

“Now you listen here—” Dad tried to interrupt, bit Mouse’s vitriol wasn’t to be stopped.

"No! You're why I failed at everything! You're why I was so fucking scared all the time, because I never got a chance to stumble when I should’ve! I failed because you never prepared me! You're fucking worthless pieces of shit! I wish—ah!" Mouse’s fiery rant was cut short by a breathy little moan as his mistress stroked an especially sensitive part of his cock. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“In god’s name, Isaac, are you two doing something right now?”  

“Tell him yes,” Lynx whispered. “Play it up hard. Moan like a little girl when I touch you.”

“Yeah. When she starts I can’t—no, not there! I’mmmm on the phone!”

Mom’s quiet sobbing filled the other end of the line until Dad’s resigned voice spoke again.

“Another son gone, just like that? Have it your way, then. Enjoy your spider whore Isaac, but don’t you ever come back here again.”

 

    The clack on the line was final, like the click of a latch on the gallows floor opening. That was it. There was no hope for Isaac anymore, no reason to fight. Torn apart by the world, Lynx, and his own weakness the boy hugged his knees and shed a silent tear as he let the darkness of a broken mind engulf him, never to cry out in futility again.

 

    The mistress’ pet let the phone drop from his hand as the pleasure of her hand stroked him to a hip quivering orgasm. He languished in her arms as she smoothed his hair.

“That was good, little Mouse,” Lynx cooed.

“I don’t think… I don’t think they’ll call back.”

“No, and if they do you won’t answer. You don’t need them anymore anyway, right? It’ll just be you and me from now on.”

That same drugged grin Lynx had come to know and love spread across Mouse’s face as he found the hand stroking his head and locked fingers.

 

“Yeah. Me and Mistress. Forever.”

 

END

 

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