World on a String

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The me that was still me watched in horror as he drooled a long thread of spit into my open mouth. The me that was theirs nearly squealed in delight.

"Swallow it," he said, and I did.

Inside, he had me strip and follow him into his bedroom. My pregnancy preceded me into the room, and I found him stripping his own clothes off. "Here's the deal," he said. "I will enjoy you tonight, if you behave. But in return you must do something for me."

"Anything," I whispered. A tear ran down my cheek at the sight of the hideous veins that crisscrossed his thick member, and the large wart that was a part of it. He had long since trimmed down his pubic hair, and I could see zits that sat amongst the hair follicles. God, I wanted it.

"I want you," he fairly strutted over, "to get me a bottle of your mistress's perfume. I want you to bring it to me."

My eyes went wide. "I couldn't..."

His meaty hand wrapped around my throat and squeezed. "You will. And here's why: you know well that, whatever is left of you in there is not in control any more. You know that if I order it you will be a willing accomplice in the abortion of your baby." His other hand ran along my stomach. "But that doesn't have to happen. You will do this."

"I will," I cried.

"Good girl," he let go. "Now kneel down and put this in your mouth. I have to piss before we start."

God help me, I knelt down.

"That was great," I heard Mrs. Carlisle's voice through her swiftly-relaxing thighs, my nose smooshed against her pubis from her leaning weight. She scooted forward to climb off. My tongue continued to lap at her lovingly, hungrily reaching for more of her juice. I could do nothing to stop it. Only a part of me wanted to stop it, anymore. As she slid, tongue rubbed at her anus and she paused to enjoy the sensation. "No," she said, "we have other things to do today." I sat up with reluctance, my face coated in her excretions. She was already getting dressed and heading towards the door.

"I have a meeting that I don't need you for, so straighten up in here for a bit. Oh, and have a few white russians ready when I return." She trod off, and I began cleaning.

It took all of my strength, even caused real physical pain in my temples, but I defied her wishes. I reached into her drawer, and took a bottle of the perfume. There were four such bottles, each labeled a different name. I took the one with my name. The agony was intense, but I knew I'd be making my master happy. Calling him that still made me sick to my stomach.

I poured 2/3 of the large bottle into a container from the drink cabinet, and replaced the missing potion with water. It would still smell, and hopefully she wouldn't notice the difference.

Then, I took the risk of leaving to bring the bottle to a supply cabinet nearby, gathering a few things there for show. Tonight, I'd be back to get it.

When she did return, she didn't even bother with perfume but instead had me massage her and lick her to one last orgasm before heading home.

My husband was no threat. He willingly believed that Mrs. Carlisle was adding responsibilities to my position, and I promised him that it would soon be over. Then I headed straight to Daniel's.

He leaned back on the couch and petted my head as I sucked him, telling me I'd done a good job, and just to be sure he wiped a little of the fluid on his pubic area as I blew him. It washed white light through my brain, and when he came it was like seeing God.

But the next day, the baby came.

I remember almost nothing. I was waiting for Mrs. Carlisle in her office, felt a sharp pain, stumbled and hit my head. When I came to, the baby was out and I was in a hospital bed.

My husband was there, with me.

"I..."

"Sshh," he rubbed my forehead. "You're okay. The baby came."

"Where?" I smiled up at him. I couldn't wait to see. But his own face tensed.

"I don't know. They took her."

"They?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know any more than that," suddenly his eyes were watery. "They work here."

Two large guards came up and gripped his arms. "Time for the lady to rest," one of them said, and they pulled him away.

And there she was.

Mrs. Carlisle swept in, holding my baby girl. She stood at a distance from me, unsmiling.

"Thank you," she said, to my dawning horror. And then she took out a strange perfume bottle I had never seen before, and sprayed once on her upper chest. She cradled the baby against the area, and it cooed.

"No," I moaned, mortified that part of me was pleased to have given her this gift.

"My dear, it had to happen. This is the part of the experiment that matters most. Just think, a company staffed by people trained from birth to worship and adore me. Productivity will be incredible, everything will be fluid and perfect. And I will be the most powerful person on this earth. And of course," she rubbed a thumb along the child's cheek, "if she grows up to look anything like her mother, well...I won't be too old yet for a good time, you know. But don't worry," she spritzed herself again as she held my daughter to her, "it'll be easier for her than it was for you."

"Please..." I cried, but she turned to someone I hadn't seen standing there. It was Tania. "The husband?" she asked.

"Will be taken care of," Tania said, business-like.

"Good."

"And the girl?" Tania waved in my direction.

"We have a promise to fulfill. We will see to her recovery, and then deliver her to Mr. Welch."

"In the meantime?"

Mrs. Carlisle looked down at her. "Ah, yes. You enjoyed her. Very well." She turned to me. "My pet, I want you do whatever Tania here says until you're ready to leave the hospital. It'll only be a few weeks, I'm sure. Obey her every word."

Tania clicked her tongue. "How gentle do I need to be?"

"Do you still play rough, my dear?"

"Rougher."

Mrs. Carlisle laughed. "Very well. Don't hold back...I can always find a replacement for our little bribe. Slave," she turned back towards me, "I meant what I said. No matter what she commands, you will obey."

I wanted to say "fuck you," or "go to hell." I wanted all three of us to die, then. I wanted an end to it all. But an equal part of me, maybe more than equal now, was still eager to obey and happy to do so.

"Yes, mistress," I whispered. Tania grinned and moved forward. She pressed a button at the edge of the bed, and it began to lower. I wanted to beg her to stop, to tell her I'd just had a baby, that I hurt. She wouldn't have cared. She hooked her thumbs in her waistband and her pants slid off her hips. Behind, Mrs. Carlisle drew the curtain closed.

It took far longer than it should have for me to recover, physically. Tania saw to that. I gave no real thought to my husband during all of this, although I tried hard to think of my baby. I had to save her. Daniel would help me, I thought. But it was laughable. That was the last thing he would want to do. He was about to get what he wanted.

And he did. I was dropped off, naked and with nothing, at his driveway. I rushed up to the house, and he smiled when he saw me there. Instead of a welcome, or questions about my child, he pulled me in and literally threw me on to the ground. Then he opened his robe, and without hesitation pushed his penis inside of me.

Again I felt the duality of hating and loving him. I'd been moist for him before he even opened the door...ready to receive. Once he was in me, he paused to pull a bottle out of his robe and spritz himself heavily on the chest. It was way more than Mrs. Carlisle ever used. My mind went dizzy and nearly blank. I had a dim sense that I was losing something. He moved inside me, and I thought every miniscule point where our flesh met was a small nerve ending having its own orgasm. He was beautiful.

"I love you," I wept as I felt the strange, distant sensation of something being wrong.

He spat in my open mouth. "I almost miss that belly, bitch. And you know, people pay a lot of money for newborn babes." He laughed and rocked harder into my center.

I came.

Far from where I lay, in the center of the massive construct that was Mrs. Carlisle's empire, she sat at her desk reviewing her scientists' reports on the chemical that gave her perfume its effect. She suffered a short moment of confusion as the door opened, and little Miranda walked in with a determined stride.

"Miranda," she blinked, "there's no work for you today."

"I know," Miranda said, moving around behind the desk. Mrs. Carlisle felt a moment of confusion as her nostrils filled with a strange scent.

"What..." she began, but Miranda pulled out a perfume bottle and began hurriedly spritzing herself over and over. Mrs. Carlisle's world became hazy, her mind clouded. Suddenly, she would do anything for Miranda.

"Why did you choose me to type for you?" Miranda asked.

"Your scores...you were....fast," Mrs. Carlisle desperately shook her head, to no avail.

"So you didn't think about anything else?"

"No. W...why?" Every breath was sinking her free will further.

"My dad," the girl frowned, "wrote the report you were just reading. He made that stuff for you. And he's not happy."

"I..." Mrs. Carlisle moved to stand, and instead fell to her knees before the girl. She looked up with deep fear gnawing at her. "Please..."

Miranda pushed the intercom button on the desk. "Tell the receptionist to send the others in."

"Send...send them in," she gasped.

The door opened again, and two men walked in. One was Miranda Welch's father, and the other was my husband. He moved over and struck Mrs. Carlisle hard enough to split her lip.

"You're going to give me my baby back, you bitch," his eyes flashed rage, "and wherever you've abandoned my wife, you're going to take her place."

Mrs. Carlisle began to cry fearfully. She couldn't form a word in defense. Miranda Welch's father came up and stood amongst her other attackers.

"And I," he said as he patted his daughter's shoulder, "will take care of your company for you. There are just a few things you need to sign."

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