A-Cup Angst Ch. 11

Jamie was admiring the night sky with a contented sigh. The orgy he had just had with his slaves left him drained and satisfied. The stars above him twinkled. He grinned at them and tried to make out the constellations. The night sky was ridiculously dark, allowing for thousands of stars to be seen. He looked around himself and realized he wasn't on the roof of Bastion. He was comfortably lying on a floating carpet. The city was so far below him that its lights could not interfere with the pale light of the distant stars.

Jamie ignored the ridiculous height below him and turned his attention back to the stars above. They still blinked in and out of existence and Jamie frowned. He realized they weren't blinking randomly. They were disappearing and reappearing in concert, as if a giant, dark shape was passing in front of them. Jamie squinted and struggled to make out the shape when it suddenly flew towards him with terrible speed and seized him.

The dark shape clutched him in its talons and they plummeted to the city below at breakneck speeds. The air whistled and hollered past Jamie's ears. He squinted his eyes against the buffeting wind. The shape then gave him one last shove and Jamie landed headfirst into a viscous, cloying liquid. It suffocated and blinded him, slowing down his desperate efforts to surface with its molasses-like consistency. Finally, Jamie curled up into a ball and he slowly rose through the fluid until he broke the surface and gasped for air.

His lungs didn't burn, strangely, and he looked around at the impenetrable darkness that surrounded him. He was in a cauldron and the fluid he had been drowning in was blood. A large hand, marked with age, reached out of the darkness and submerged his head under, once again. Jamie fought against it, ineffectually. The hand raised him out of the bloody cauldron.

Jamie looked to the source of the gargantuan arm that held him up as if he was a puppet. Only two dark red, squinting eyes glowed malevolently in the darkness. A second gnarled hand reached out and tore his clothes off.

He hung there, limp and naked in the grasp of this giant, dark figure. His fear and dread were paralyzing him. The hand that tore off his clothes brandished giant, sharpened nails and began to tear off Jamie' skin with the exact same ease it tore his clothes off. Jamie moaned and shrieked in agony, desperate to get away from the monster that was flaying him.

His skin pooled under him in thin strips. His blood dripped over it, copiously. The figure drew his skinless, soon-to-be corpse towards the two glowing eyes. They tried to pierce right into Jamie's soul and suck it out of his eyes. Jamie's own eyes lit up at that moment, powered by his own magic and he began to evade direct eye contact with the dark creature, knowing it would mean the end of him. A pale light projected out of his eyeballs. The two thin shafts of light intersected in the air between Jamie and the dark figure. As Jamie's eyes darted away from meeting the perpetually shifting gaze of the assailant, the light emanating from them left a pale line hanging in the air between Jamie and the evil flayer.

The line seemed to be random, at first, but soon Jamie realized it made up a complicated three-dimensional sigil. When it was finished, Jamie smugly glared at the red eyes in the darkness. He was protected from them. His soul was safe. The creature simply opened its claw and Jamie began to fall. He fell towards the heap of his flayed skin that leaped up and began to wrap him up like a mummy.

Jamie jumped up and rolled away from the skin strips threatening to suffocate him. He rolled off the bed and adopted a combat stance it the middle of the dark room. His magical, Jedi-like senses stretched out and confirmed that he was in reality. No more cartoon physics and uncooperating limbs. He huffed in relief and slouched. The adrenaline rush was dissipating and he giggled maniacally in its wake.

Nova entered his bedroom and held out a large sketch pad and pencil. Jamie sat back down on the edge of the bed and began to draw the sigil that had protected him in his dream. The skin of his face and throat was itching him terribly and distracting him from his drawing. He closed his eyes, resisting the temptation to go scratching at his raw skin and envisioned the sigil. It danced vividly on his eyelids. He nodded to himself. He wasn't likely to forget it. He opened his eyes and stood up.

Jamie walked to the ensuite bathroom and turned on the light. He winced at seeing the deep scratches that he had clawed upon his own face and throat, his subcounscious desperation to awaken from the nightmare had struck again. The scratches were oozing blood. The ones he had inflicted upon himself during the previous nights were healed, but still visible under the harsh light of the vanity. Combined with the new ones, they drew a terrifying tapestry of self-mutilation upon Jamie's face. He sighed and opened the medicine cabinet.

Jamie applied a generous amount of the healing salve upon his whole face and throat, shellacking himself like a fifties' wife with a cold cream fetish. The salve was something they had mixed up the other day, after he first had the nightmare and the girls woke him up in the middle of the night to stop him from gouging out his own eyeballs. He swore then, in the middle of the night, when he couldn't get back to sleep, that he was leaving the States, as soon as he planted additional guards on the vault, and not coming back. In the two nights since, the nightmare always repeated itself, but Jamie was woken by his concerned slaves before he could see the sigil, that his inner light drew, completed.

At first, Jamie thought the nightmare was another warning that some kind of vampire was loose in the city, or that Stansfield had managed to break free of her bindings. He had Nova check, and Section was not issuing any vampire warnings. Not for their city, the eastern seaboard, or anywhere at all. Plus, none of his slaves shared the nightmare. He was the only one that had it and it was truly terrifying. He also had his A.I. check for anyone named Bolton that was moving into the area. It found none.

When the nightmare didn't go away on the second night and he was again awakened to stop his self mutilation before he could see the whole sigil that his inner light was drawing, he decided he would sleep alone on the third night and experience the horrible dream to the bitter end. He reiterated his firm intention to get the hell away from the east coast and whatever was hounding him in this terrible nightmare. The slaves were ordered to sleep in the other rooms and Nova stood on watch, ordered only to wake him up if he stopped breathing for more than thirty seconds, at which point it was to sound the alarm and begin CPR.

Jamie finished covering his face with a thick layer of regeneration salve and went back to his bed. He picked up the pencil and paper and began drawing. His eyes stung and teared up, blurring his vision. He was sleep-deprived, still feeling the aftereffects of his terrible nightmare and he had nearly poked his own eyeballs out during it.

He blinked frequently to clear his vision and kept sketching. The sigil didn't look right

to him, on paper. He scowled at it, trying to figure out what he drew wrong. He set the first sketch aside and tried again. He drew the sigil again and again, the memory of it fresh in his mind, ignoring the fact that the Sun rose and everyone else woke up to have breakfast. His stomach growled when he smelled the food someone had brought him, but he kept drawing. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with it. It had looked so beautiful and purposeful in the dream. It looked so flat and impotent on a sheet of paper.

Flat.

Jamie's mouth opened as he realized the flaw. The sigil was meant to be three-dimensional, not flat, like a rune, or a ward. His instincts led him to draw pieces of the sigil on different sheets of paper and fold them over one another until he had managed to origami it just right. He smiled a beaming smile of relief. The sigil felt just right. "Nova," he shouted, "fetch me Rose, on the double!"

"I'm here," Rose said, standing right next to his bed. Jamie startled at the proximity of her voice and looked up. Everyone but Helena was standing in the room with him.

"Oh," he said, "I didn't see you there."

"Or hear us," Sandra said.

"Yeah, whatever," he said, distractedly. "Rose, we need to pool our power and cast it together in the shape of this sigil." He held it up for her to see and explained how the flow of the lines he drew was to form a permanent investment of their power. Rose nodded along with his directions and they set about casting the sigil in no time. Soon, the folded up paper glowed with power. The glow was dull on one side and bright on the other. Everyone admired it for a few moments, before Jamie's smiling mouth opened very wide and he stuffed the empowered sigil into it. He swallowed it with some small difficulty and chased it down with a glass of orange juice that had been brought up to him as part of his breakfast.

The other occupants of the room looked at him with unease and worry painted on their faces. "You okay there, boss," Felicity inquired.

As soon as the paper settled down into Jamie's stomach, he felt the power invested in it suffuse his whole being. He didn't know what the sigil's intent was, or how it was affecting him, but he felt certain that it was going to save him in the near future. But only if it was kept secret, his gut told him. "Everyone," he said, "forget about me drawing this sigil and then investing it with permanent power and swallowing it. That's an order." Everyone nodded and concentrated on blanking their minds.

After Jamie witnessed his slaves forgetting the last few minutes, he forgot all about the horrible, disturbing nightmare. The fear that had been consuming him for the past two days, about vampires coming after him, or Jessica escaping the vault, simply vanished from his mind. He picked at some of the things on the tray he had been brought and said, "Are the robots finished?"

"Yes," Sandra said. "Ray and Felicity drained the two mercenaries to form the skins and they cursed them to be magic-proof."

"Excellent," he said. "Let's go install them and get the hell out of this town!" He stood up and smiled, bringing genuine relief to his slaves that had not seen him so much as grin for more than fifty hours. "Wait! Where's Helena?"

"She left earlier this morning to run errands and buy stuff she thinks we'll need in Europe," Felicity said.

Jamie shrugged and they went downstairs to inspect the gynoid shaped after Felicity and the android shaped after Ray. After a brief discussion, they decided to call the android Felix, after Felicity, and the gynoid Raylene, after Ray. They packed up the very large supply of permanently enchanted ammo and four AK-47s for the robots to use in case of a breach of the vault. They drove to the Smithsonian and set the robots to stand guard over the immobile Jessica Stansfield, vampire extraordinaire.

They were connected to Nova the A.I. by a lesser rift spell, just like Nova the gynoid was. However, they lacked the crystals with critical thinking routines that Nova the gynoid had in its skull. Jamie sighed. If Sonya had still been with them, they'd be able to make new A.I.s and semi autonomous robots. Now, he was stuck with two robots he didn't trust to be operational in the field. Guarding a secret vault, however, was definitely something they could do. The robots flanked the vampire, facing the door and powered down to standby mode. Since the vault didn't have electricity, Jamie and the gang set up small, portable photovoltaic units that were drawing power from the light of the lanterns the giant statues were holding. It dimmed the vault a bit, but it would allow the robots to remain operational for a very long time.

The vault was sealed up again and they drove back to Bastion, stopping off for lunch along the way. When they came back home, they were reunited with Helena and they sat down for a spot of dinner.

"So," Jamie said, "where are we going to, first?" The slaves had spent the past few days either fretting over Jamie's nightmares or building the robots. What little spare time they had was spent debating all the places in the world that they would go see during their world tour of fun and pleasure.

"Iceland," Ray declared. Jamie's brow rose in surprise. Ray grinned. "I showed the girls a few episodes of 'Game of Thrones' and they agreed it would be grand if we had an orgy in a frozen cave with a hot spring."

Jamie nodded. "Sounds good," he said. "Nova, find such a cave for us and make the necessary reservations."

"Yes, Jamie."

"Ok, let's go to the airport," Jamie said and they all finished dinner and left Bastion in full control of Nova the A.I. The takeoff was uneventful and, once cruising altitude was established, Sandra and Felicity wasted no time to go down on Jamie. They fought over his cock, slobbering and licking like crazy, until he came all over their faces. They cleaned his cock, zipped him back up, and then licked the cum off their faces before settling down in their seats.

Rose loudly announced her orgasm. She was sitting in Ray's lap and grinding down on his cock. Ray grabbed her to hold her still and began to stab upwards with his cock. Rose moaned in feeble protest as Ray grunted away. Soon, he came and Rose followed suit. They kissed for a while before Rose got up and went to her seat.

Everyone reclined their seats and covered themselves with blankets. It had been a long day and they were tired. Jamie was just nodding off to sleep when he was suddenly gripped by a feeling of dread. "Awake," he yelled in a panic. "Fear! Fire! Foes! Awake!" Everyone in the cabin sat up and cast their eyes about to locate the source of Jamie's alarm.

The cabin door suddenly pivoted up into its open position. The enchantments upon the plane prevented a loss of pressurization, or the 400 knot air currents from whipping into the cabin, but they did nothing to stop the woman from gaining entry. Jamie's mouth dropped as he saw her. She was petite of build, but her lavender shirt was barely containing a pair of large breasts. Her facial features were delicately sculpted and framed by a thick mane of dark brown hair, coiffed to cascade down to her shoulders in large waves.

Her enormous, brown eyes locked with Jamie's. The indented corners of her thick, luscious lips drew up into a dimpled smirk. Jamie couldn't quite bring himself to admire the beautiful woman at the door. His guts were churning, telling him she was a vampire. He let loose a pair of spirits against her. He intended for them to throw her out of the plane so they could get away from her. He couldn't spare a single thought as to how she had managed to get close to an airplane that was cruising at altitude in the first place. As quickly as the spirits were released to knock her back with a prodigious amount of kinetic force, the vampire woman sucked them into her skin, giving a tiny shudder of delight as she did so.

Jamie was stunned by the sight. Spirits shot off from the other casters in the cabin, but she effortlessly sucked them into her skin and then opened her hand. Jamie felt a sensation coming from his stored up spirits of power. The woman's fingers closed into a fist and all the stored spirits attached to the four casters in the cabin flew into her, pulling their attendant rings off the casters' fingers with them. Jamie's fear finally broke through his shock and he yelled, "Toss her out!"

Ray, Felicity, Rose and he each tried a desperate spell to knock her out through the pen door next to her. Ray and Rose tried to push her with force against her shoulder, while Felicity and Jamie tried to unbalance her and make her fall out of the plane on her own. Nothing worked. Sandra pointed a gun at the woman, but it clicked without discharging, it's firing pin disabled by the woman's magic. Nova left the cockpit and the woman's insolent smile faltered, for just a split second, when she saw it.

The step Nova took to reach the woman and shove her out was so fast that Jamie could not see it happen. All he saw was two big blurs where the woman had been and then he saw the gynoid's hand clinging to the doorframe to pull itself back in. He sensed the vampire woman standing at the back of the aisle. Before he could ask himself how she got there, or try to defend himself, she touched the side of his neck and consciousness eluded him.

Jamie snapped awake from a restless sleep, plagued by bad dreams that retreated from his mind on the coattails of slumber. He brought his hand up to wipe his eyes and see where he was. He was shocked to see and feel a thick pair of manacles joining his wrists together. He envisioned two opposing vectors of force and infused them with his power, intending to break the manacles apart. Nothing happened. Jamie's heart beat a mile a minute as he sat up in bed and took stock of his location. He was in a small, windowless room, lit by fluorescent lighting from the ceiling. It reminded him of a prison cell. He looked to the massive, metal door, with its food slot at the bottom and large peep hole, and realized that was exactly where he was, right now.

He could still sense his magic under his skin so he drew a deep breath and infused his muscles with his power, intent on breaking the manacles apart. They held fast and bit into his skin. Jamie let out the breath and tried to think. The manacles hummed lightly against his skin, letting him know they were magical. He tried to create a small, harmless flame in the air above his hand. It didn't appear. Jamie began panicking. The manacles were somehow preventing him from using his magic. He forced down his sense of panic and did his level best to look at the situation rationally. The manacles were placed upon his wrist, therefore, there must be a way to get them off.

He gave them a thorough look, but found no catch or lock. They looked and felt like they had been forged in place while he slept. Jamie hummed to himself, partly to force himself to stay calm, but mostly to let himself direct his magic into a vibration that would shatter the manacles. He kept at it, desperately trying to sense and reproduce the frequency of the manacles themselves, to no avail. He took a deep breath and beat his fear down. He needed to find the others. He needed to escape whoever was holding him captive in this cell. He needed to shatter the manacles to do that. He needed to allow his Jedi-like instincts to tell him what frequency the manacles were naturally vibrating at.

Jamie's consciousness retreated deeper and deeper into himself, until he finally felt it. He had the frequency and set his magic to making his skin vibrate at that exact same frequency in order to shatter the manacles. After a few moments, he realized he couldn't make any part of him vibrate with magic. His power was completely suppressed. Jamie blinked back his tears and the rising feeling of helplessness. He allowed his wrath to supplant it. He forced himself to try and cast each and every spell he had ever cast, or even heard of.

He was halfway through his repertoire of failure when the door suddenly opened. Two young men in uniforms entered and seized him by the elbows. Jamie thought he could see the word "Françe" written on their insignia. "How the hell did I get to France," he thought. Unceremoniously, they dragged him out of his cell and down a few corridors, lined with heavy, metal doors that were doubtlessly hiding cells like his. They led him into a round chamber and the chamber walls rotated to seal the way they came from. After they completely covered up the entryway, they kept rotating some more until they uncovered an exit. Jamie began cooperating with the guards, but he took the time to memorize their faces. He would have his revenge on them for daring to treat him this way.