Bye, Bye, Mr Finch?

"Thanks, dear." Linda shyly draped her arm around Emily and kissed her back.

"What are you doing, mummy?" Emily's tone was suddenly sharp.

"Sorry?" A sudden mix of shame and guilt ran through Linda.

Emily's eyes bored into Linda's. "Are you coming on to me?"

"What?"

"Coming on to me! Your own daughter!"

Linda's brain shut down. Her complex feelings knotted inside, paralysing her.

"Lost your tongue, have we? I thought we were just playing around here, all girls together, but incest? Was that your game along?"

Incest! The word knifed through Linda, and tears sprang to her eyes.

"Were you hoping I'd get undressed? Join in your sick games? Answer me!" The slap rocked Linda. It was a relief to confess. Her feelings about Michelle had played on her mind since Becky, maybe even before Becky.

Emily watched as Linda dissolved into tears. Biding her time, Emily moved to hold the older woman and rocked her gently. "I know, mummy," she kissed the top of Linda's head. "It's better to get this out, and it will remain our little secret, just you and me." Emily smiled to herself, sensing it was time to switch things up. "Were you hoping I would join you and get undressed, too? You can tell me the truth, mummy."

"I--I guess I'm sorry--"

"Shush, it's okay. God gave us feelings, and it is a loving feeling." Emily squeezed Linda tightly, who gave a small moan in response. "If I get undressed, will that cure you? Get it out of your system?"

Linda gave a strangled sob. At that moment, Linda didn't genuinely know what to think or feel. She was just a helpless passenger.

Gently disengaging from Linda, Emily rose. "Would you like to help me get undressed?"

The need in Linda's eyes was unmistakable. Linda stood and, with trembling fingers, began pulling at Emily's top The touch of Emily's hand on her hip made Linda jump slightly.

"Do you think I have nice boobs?" asked Emily as Linda reached around and unclipped her bra. The action allowed Emily to press herself against Linda, who drank in the embrace.

"You have lovely boobs, dear," whispered Linda.

"The boys like my boobs." Pink, hard nipples revealed themselves.

"Have--have you been showing them to boys?"

Emily nodded. "Yes, mummy. I let them touch them too."

"Do you let the boys kiss them?" Linda gently cupped Emily's left breast. It had the sheen and perkiness of youth, a creamy pannacotta ready to be devoured.

"Sometimes. Do you want to kiss them, mummy?"

Linda did. She pressed her lips over that hard button, it was slightly rough under her tongue as she kissed and probed, the young girl arching slightly, her arms curling around Linda's neck and pushing her into her chest.

"You should take my jeans off," murmured Emily.

Instinctively, Linda obeyed the instruction and popped open the girl's jeans, still rolling the nipple in her mouth. Reluctantly she broke away as Emily pulled down her jeans to reveal black knickers against pale skin, and then she collapsed back onto the sofa, allowing Linda to remove them.

"You can take my panties off as well if you like." Emily raised herself slightly, allowing her knickers to be pulled down.

Linda sank back to her knees as Emily opened her legs and ran her hand over her pussy. She was shaven, neat and tidy, lips slightly puffed, marking a perfect crease.

"Do you like my pussy, mummy?" asked Emily, again with that teasing boldness.

Not trusting herself to speak, Linda nodded.

Emily raised her hand from her pussy, and Linda bobbed forward to lick at the slight sheen on the girl's fingers. She had a crisp, clean tang. Linda sucked eagerly, almost orgasming at the situation, the fantasy playing out rapidly in her head.

"Have any boys gone down on you?" whispered Linda.

Emily nodded. "Women do it better though."

"Really?"

"Much better." Emily teased her pussy, with her fingers, her legs hooking around Linda, drawing her in. "I like a woman who has a lot of practice. Have you had a lot of practice, mummy?"

"A bit."

Emily suddenly tweaked Linda's nipple. "Are you a slut, mummy?"

As much as the unexpected sharp pain, the words caused Linda to shiver. A wave of gratitude washed over her. She had invited this strange girl into her private world and was now going to bear the consequences.

"Mummy can be a bit slutty at times," admitted Linda.

"So, you like cock?"

"Yes, mummy likes cock."

"You like men fucking you, sticking their dicks into you?" Emily's voice was enticing, coaxing Linda to confess.

Linda pressed her mouth against Emily's, her heart skipping wildly. "I love men fucking me, I like fucking girls too." She stared into those familiar grey-green eyes.

"You are such a slutty mom, a slutty mom that wants to fuck her own daughter. Are you going to fuck me, mummy?"

A soft moan was the only response. The slap to Linda's face widened her eyes in pleasurable shock. A mouth pressed against hers, fingers twisting her nipple more harshly.

"A dirty mummy should be punished for wanting to fuck her own daughter." Emily bit on Linda's lip and pulled.

"Yes--yes," stammered Linda weakly. She should be punished, guilt and shame interlacing her desire. "Please, darling!" Linda winced as Emily pulled her head back by her hair.

"Please what, mummy? Should I punish you for being a nasty mummy? A nasty, dirty, mummy slut?"

"Yes!"

"I mean, what sort of nasty mummy wants to fuck her own daughter!" Emily spat in Linda's face.

Linda blinked through the spittle, her vision slightly obscured. "A shameful, dirty mummy," she whispered. "Please forgive me."

Emily smiled.

****

The silver BMW slowly sank into the dark, murky pool of water. Finch turned to the woman behind him. "So, how we--"

The bat caught him on the bridge of his nose, the pain in his knee swiftly followed. Dazed, Finch felt the crunch on his fingers and let the knife he had instinctively grabbed fall from his fingers. His next thought was to curse himself for being careless and forgetting how the woman operated. No warnings. Strike fast, strike hard.

Her face swam into view as he blinked his own blood from his eyes.

"Congratulations, Finch. You're now officially management. On behalf of the Depot, I would like to welcome you and wish you every success on your relocation to our new London operation.

Finch coughed and spat some blood. Despite the pain, he managed a grin, remembering now where the recorded conversation took place. "You bugged Linda's flat. Spying on us." It wasn't a question.

"Oh, and I catch you talking shit about me again, or planning shit without running it by me first, I'll make sure you join your mate Billy," added Raven, ignoring Finch's statement.

"Do I get to say goodbye to Linda? Don't want her worrying about me."

"You can send her a fucking card."

Raven rose as Max joined her. "Get him cleaned up. Tomorrow we'll go over what needs to be done with Billy's crew, such as it is."

"Yes, Lady."

****

Emily was slick with sweat as she clamped her thighs around Linda's head and uttered a short sharp cry. "Fuck!" she breathed, half releasing a red-faced Linda. "Fuck," Emily exclaimed again.

"Did mummy do good?" There was a pathetic eagerness to Linda

"Mummy did very good!" grinned Emily. She rose to her feet and pulled Linda up by the hand.

"Where we going now?"

"Upstairs. I'm guessing my slutty mummy has some fun toys to play with?"

Linda half-nodded and allowed Emily to lead her upstairs.

"Get in there." Emily pushed Linda and sent her stumbling onto the bed. "So, where do you keep the fun stuff?"

The spare bedroom. "I--I don't know what you mean, dear."

The slap rocked Linda back, more grateful tears springing to her eyes. She welcomed the punishment.

"Not just a slut, but a lying slut." Emily put her hand to Linda's face feeling the warmth in the woman's cheek. "Did that hurt, mummy?" she asked in a softer voice.

Linda blinked away more tears. "Yes."

"Did mummy deserve it?"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. A slut often lies, it's natural." Emily stooped and kissed Linda gently. "Now, where are your slut toys?"

"Spare bedroom. Top drawer of the dresser. Please kiss me." Linda added plaintively. Her emotional core had collapsed.

"Only if you are a good mummy," Emily kissed Linda harder, eliciting a soft moan. "Now stay there, okay?"

Linda nodded, missing the young woman as soon as Emily left. She lay spread on her bed, wondering if she should take another hit of drug. Rolling on her side, Linda took the spare inhaler out of the bedside drawer.

"What are you doing?" Emily returned with a black dildo and cuffs.

Guiltily, Linda showed the inhaler. "May I?"

Emily nodded and watched curiously as Linda took several deep breaths on the inhaler. "What's it like?"

"Gives my energy, it's invigorating."

"Make you horny too?"

"Yes, it enhances my pleasure. Want to try it?"

"Sure," Emily took the inhaler. "I've got some coke in my bag if you really want to party."

"We'll see." Linda watched as the girl drew on the device.

"Nothing," the girl sounded disappointed, then stopped as the world took on a different hue. A rosy yellowish tint, then a warmth spreading through her limbs. "It's kind of like downing a strong shot of tequilea or something. Feels nice." A slightly dreamy smile appeared on her face.

Linda smiled. "Feels good, huh?"

"Yeah. No wonder you're such a slut!" laughed Emily, then her face hardened. "But I guess you have to be a druggy whore in the first place for it to work."

The sudden shift in tone speared Linda's soul. She yelped as Emily straddled her and fastened her wrists to the bedposts. Fear, excitement, and desire, all laced through with the drug, gripped Linda. She felt exposed, vulnerable to the young woman, a woman she didn't know and seduced into thinking she did by the likeness. "What, what are you going to do to me?" asked Linda timidly.

"I'm going to punish you, punish you for raising me as a slut, for setting a terrible example, betraying your motherhood by harbouring filthy, disgusting perversions about me." Emily's Northern Irish accent was more pronounced, adding fire to her denunciation.

More guilt washed through Linda. She nodded in eager agreement. Her sins were hers! It was shameful to blame Michelle--her own daughter, for her corruption, the drugs, the sex, and what her life had become. "I'm sorry, I really am," she gasped as Emily tugged harshly on her nipples.

"You will be you disgusting whorebag!" Emily gripped the black dildo and rubbed it against herself while moving up and down on Linda's chest. "Open wide, mummy," she purred.

Mesmerised, Linda automatically opened her mouth, the taste of silicon and pussy filling her senses, then a slight pain in her jaw as Emily forced it further in.

"That taste good? You want to feel that hard dick in your slutty snatch?"

Linda blinked, then nodded at the mocking harshness, gagging slightly as Emily slowly moved the dildo in and out of her mouth.

"That's it, mummy, start drooling on that dick," Emily took a puff on the inhaler, "fuck, that feels good!"

Emily slid down Linda's body, resting her mouth on the older woman's breasts and biting hard. Muffled moans and gasps were Emily's reward.

"You want me to fuck you with that cock?" asked Emily glancing up, her tongue flicking Linda's teat.

"Mmm!" Linda mumbled around the dildo.

"Such a slut, what chance did I have with such a disgusting whore for a mother." Emily shook her head in mock sorrow and removed the dildo from Linda's mouth. "Are you ashamed? Can you feel shame like a normal mother?"

Tears began rolling down Linda's face. "Yes, yes I am ashamed, but I can't help myself, I'm lost!" she wailed.

"Poor, poor, mummy," Emily reached up and kissed away the tears. "It's your nature, and this drug I imagine, makes you do disgusting, filthy things.Makes you want to seduce your daughter, taste her, fuck her. You love her, you like her, yet sometimes you hate her, don't you?"

Sobbing wracked Linda. She pulled against the cuffs, grateful for the warm, soft kisses on her cheeks. "She's the best, and she's the worst, I am too, I guess--"

"Of course you are, you made her the way she is. You can't put the blame on her, on me!"

"No, it's her too, she's very strong-willed, frightening sometimes--" the vicious slap silenced Linda.

"You piece of shit! You fucking degenerate whore! How dare you blame us when all you want is for me to shove this in your slut cunt!"

Linda shrieked as Emily rammed home the dildo, embracing the stab of pain, the initial discomfort, before relaxing into the pleasure as Emily manipulated the toy inside her.

"This is what you really want isn't it. All those young girls, you just wanted to bed your daughter but didn't have the guts to admit it!"

"Yes! I'm sorry, truly sorry! How did you know? Oh god, just fuck me please!"

Emily worked the dildo in and out of Linda as the older woman bucked against the restraints, her breathing ragged. Guilt and fierce desire gripped Linda as she embraced the notion that it was Michelle doing this, a Michelle before the transformation, a more innocent incarnation that was urging her on, telling her to come, which Linda did, repeatedly. She was helpless to resist, at the mercy of a long-buried fantasy that was beyond shameful, a fantasy that she blamed her daughter for and yet recognised her own shameful cowardice in disowning it.

Sweat drenched the sheet under Linda, her cunt numbing to the assault, a hand gripping her lower face as Emily slowed the pace, a glint of something in her eyes, those familiar grey-green eyes. Cruelty--a gleam of Emily's self. Linda shivered and tried to raise her head to kiss and placate the girl who had taken possession of her, but the hand kept her pinned, the other hand, fingers slick with juices, forced their way into Linda's mouth.

"Dirty, dirty, mummy with her cunt cream all over my hand. You like the taste of cunt, your own nasty filthy whore cunt?"

Linda choked on the intrusion, desperately trying to lick Emily clean and do as she was bidden.

"Nasty bitch!" The slap was hard, rocking Linda back. The redness in her cheek cooled by the tears. "That's it, keep blubbing! Are you sorry now for corrupting me? Making me do dirty things?" Emily leaned over the bed and reached for her phone. "I should take a little video, let the world know what you are really like."

Panicked, Linda struggled under the girl, but to no avail as Emily rode her struggles, the cuffs keeping Linda in place. "You don't like that idea? Everyone will see you've enjoyed yourself, these sheets are soaked, quite the little squirter, and you look so good with that black dildo impaled in your slutty snatch!"

"Please--" Linda finally found her voice. It was rough and strained.

"Please what, mummy?"

"Please don't do that! I'll give you things, whatever you want!"

Emily lowered the phone and looked thoughtful. "Anything? That is very tempting. I'm going to sit on your face while I think about it."

"Yes, yes, I'll lick you, make you cum!"

"You be a good little cunt licker for me, mummy?" Emily scooted up Linda's body, her hands on the metal head rail as she slowly ground her pussy over Linda's face. "Oh, that is good, mummy, your baby girl likes the way you lick her sweet pussy!"

A stab of hopeless realisation at her predicament overwhelmed Linda. Cuffed to her bed and eagerly lapping at this young girl's pussy. Then the realisation ebbed away, the feel and taste overwhelming her senses. Dimly, Linda became aware the girl was talking.

"...enough for a nice car, nothing too flash." Flushed, Emily slid down Linda and gripped her wet face. "I mean, you do love me, mummy, don't you?" She kissed Linda hard, enjoying the taste of her own scent. "And I think you should pay for your sins. Seducing your own flesh and blood."

Linda sought out Emily's lips and lost herself in the kiss. "Yes, I should pay for my sins. I will pay for them," she whispered.

Emily stared into Linda as if peering into her depths. "Yes, mummy. You have much to atone for."

*****

Janice had had a dizzying eight hours since she had first met that woman outside Ladybugs. Or maybe it was ten? Janice wasn't too sure. She did recall that woman picking her up at just gone seven. A Mercedes, all plush chrome and gleam.

She settled in the passenger seat, the leather cool against her bare skin, suddenly nervous about the shortness of her dress, all too aware of the strong grip on her knee, the caress up her thigh as she was driven to the compound.

The woman had said barely a word, and Janice was intimidated into silence.

"Hubby was a little taken aback by the dress," was one of her few breathless comments as the hand kneaded her inside thigh.

"I have no interest in your husband. He is nothing to me."

The brutality of the comment pushed Janice further into herself. Her focus was solely on the hand now rubbing her pussy. It felt good, possessive. Janice liked the casual way she was being used without even a thought for her concerns or wishes. The hand pushed her legs open further. It would have been unthinkable to resist. Janice did not want to resist.

"Shall, shall I take my panties off?" stammered Janice.

Fingers hooked into the thin fabric and tugged, the car swerving slightly in the road. Janice raised herself and, with trembling hands, helped pull them down. The stabbing of the finger into her was like an electric shock. She glanced at the woman. The black hair seemed starker and wilder. Eyes caught hers. The fleeting connection was different from the one earlier that afternoon. The amusement was absent, the flirty cast gone. They were cold, seemingly opaque. Chilling, intoxicating. Erotic.

The casual fingering continued, the indifference with which it was being done was more pleasurable than the act itself. The compound gate swung open, and the guards stiffened on seeing the car. Power flowed from this woman. It filled the car, almost choking Janice. It was as if there were two different women. One of the day and now this one, a product of the night. The thought chimed with Janice. Yes! This woman was a night demon, and she, Janice Coleman, was her prey. One of the guards looked in as they swept past. Janice felt deliciously exposed, her legs splayed for this woman's minions to see, the fantasy playing as much in her head as reality.

A flunky hurried up as they parked. Janice mourned the sudden absence of the hand impaling her. She struggled out of the car, trying to pull down her dress. No one helped her. The woman waited impatiently as Jance tottered around to her side. A cawing noise made Janice look up. Ravens atop the balustrade, ominous shapes against the pale moon. They peered down as she took the woman's arm. Ravens! Or were they rooks or crows? No, it had to be ravens --is that where she got her name? It was mad that this woman carried such sway, such power. She wasn't that much older than Janice, yet she seemed eternal. She heard one of the bird's cawings as she entered the lobby. Warning her, perhaps? Then wondering if the woman controlled them and would have them feast on her corpse when she was done.

Janice's legs wobbled at this thought, a terrifying, insanely erotic thought, the notion she was in danger with just enough realisation to know that it was a silly notion and could therefore be entertained by it. Or, at least, that was Janice's fervent hope.

A strong hand on her arm steadied her. Janice flashed a wan smile of thanks as an immaculate mature woman greeted them. Rather, she greeted Michelle/Raven. Janice was nothing but decoration. Laughter and a general hum of voices reached her. The aroma of good food. The sounds of sex. A louche decadence pervading the atmosphere.