Daddies and 'Little Girls'

"T-T-T-The M-M-Mas-TER TOOK CONTROL!" Sweetkit exclaimed as she edged against the fingers in hopes of a follow through.

Jane kept Sweetkit on the precipice for a moment more. "Where is The Master?"

Sweetkit jerked as hard as she could to find release, but Jane was faster and lightly touched Sweetkit's upper thighs. Sweetkit could only moan loudly in frustration that was really desire heightened. "L-L-L-ook High In The Night. . E-E-E-EVEN WHEN UNSEEN. . . h-h-h-e-e-e-IS SEEN!"

Jane plunged three fingers inside of Sweetkit in a jolt thrust and the feline came in a torrent. The meows and shrieks drew attention as lights came on suddenly.

Sweetkit still writhed as the security team scaled the fence and into the backyard, but Jane was gone.

Jizzybelle Heart to Heart

Magnolia Motel Room 16, In The City, Early Afternoon

Jizzybelle awoke with a start against her black ball gag locked securely in place. There was a slight headache beat in her head while she realized she could only move her eyes. She became relieved when she realized Daddy had moved them to their Slut Getaway -- the cheap blue and green motel room that smelled of faint past indiscretion, lightly rancid bleach, and fresh linen. She looked ahead at herself in the large mirror on the wall. Daddy had her in the pink latex bitch suit, positioned and secured with straps at the end of the bed.

It had been a very scary three months since the conference that became the origin of a series of disasters. Daddy and Jizzybelle had not returned to their beautiful home in Phet Plasse. He didn't trust it with Rojas security forces in lurk and snipe at every Mulligan movement. Daddy had been swift and certain to keep them on the move. They had stayed in a beautiful secret cottage in the Country for a bit before they had to stay in Daddy's office for a week, then they moved around the City. Daddy promised she would be safe and keyed up the inspections that felt more medical recently than the playfulness of the past. Daddy drew blood samples, hair samples, and even her love juice that flowed whenever Daddy was present. All she knew was the love he did it-like her life was a slip in his grasp. She loved it.

She had no clue what time it was, but her mouth was dry. Daddy had given her a drink for travel so when he packed her in the case or the cargo container, she wouldn't be the wiser and why she felt hungover at the moment. The desire and need for Daddy's presence made her unsettled in her stomach. She observed the solid brown puppy tail in her ass move in a nervous shake in the mirror. Her pussy was wet and craved him.

The door opened slowly and Daddy walked in with an unsettled face. A woman in a black leather cat suit and gray corset followed closely behind him and Jizzybelle didn't see the gun in Daddy's back until the door closed and Daddy stopped in front of Jizzybelle.

"Don't hurt my little girl," he pleaded in a tone of voice Jizzybelle had never heard Daddy use. She felt very scared. She couldn't help Daddy at all in her suit.

"Dr. Heart, I'm not here to hurt. I'm here to help, quietly." The woman's voice was so calm that Jizzybelle felt better instantly. "Sit on the bed with her. I have questions and then we can really discuss your current state of affairs."

His runner's body with a faded spray tan and sunken face due to loss of sleep, appetite, and massive stress sat next to Jizzybelle with an arm around her in a protective wave. He looked like shit, but he still glared at the woman. "Who are you?"

"Take the ball gag out of her mouth," the woman said as she pulled bottled water from her backpack behind her and tossed it to the doctor. "Give her something to drink. You should've given her an IV. A dehydrated pet is a dead one."

Dr. Heart caught it and threw it back. "I don't know who you are."

The woman nodded her head and put the bottled water back in her pack without a drop of aim. "Understandable. Quite a predicament from the last party, right?"

Both of the faces that looked at the woman glared with hatred and exasperation. The woman put the gun into the hip holster on her right side. She smiled at them, as she sat on top of the desk adjacent to them. "She drank the milk, didn't she?"

They both looked at her like she was nuts. She shrugged. "Well, the milk was bad, too...How was she infected?"

Jizzybelle began to cry and Dr. Heart began to stroke her. "It's FINE! You aren't infected." He turned to really give the stink eye. "WHO.THE.FUCK.ARE.YOU?"

"You can call me Jane, "she replied smoothly with the calmest tone. "I'm trying to help you, so help me."

"How? With your gun? Scaring my little girl?" Dr. Heart growled as he clutched a frightened Jizzybelle like he would take off with her at any moment. Then he sighed, exhausted by the evasion, and sad for his Jizzybelle. "We weren't there for the conference. We were there for the Lifestyle Party. I got an invite from a secured source. I believed we would be safe. I don't bring my wife out for nothing."

Jane kept her face calm with a reassurance that both the doctor and his wife felt genuinely. "I understand and I want you both to be safe. Explain what happened."

"It was a gathering in a warehouse two blocks from the Conference of AI and Cloning Projects. She and I were visiting family. We weren't involved in the conference at all. It was a Lifestyle gathering. I checked it out. We met the people we knew. We stayed in the Shibari Room. We literally hung out with the people we knew."

Jane mused at the pun. "Did you consume what was given there?"

Dr. Heart fumed and then settled. "I trusted the mixes from the friends we knew. Now I don't know. I want her safe. She is MY WIFE. She won't be those lab rats I examine. She won't be a test subject or a point of order in their dealings."

"It makes a difference now it's in your home, with a woman you love?" Jane queried with a raise left brow.

Dr. Heart avoided it, but it was all over his face-the regret, humility, and the worry. "I love my wife. I want her safe. No one really knows who she is. I want her safe. She's my wife."

Jane looked at Jizzybelle. "I know you explained to Daddy what happened, but what was different?"

Jizzybelle began to cry, so Jane drew her 9mm and pointed it straight to Dr. Heart's head. "Get the fuck out to save your wife."

Dr. Heart growled as he left and Jane locked the door behind him. The pounding began immediately as Jane placed the voyeur chair in a brace under the knob. "Will you tell me before he breaks the door down or do I have to take you?"

Jizzybelle was lost. She knew, but Daddy would kill her. She knew and Daddy would be saved. She knew and nothing would ever be the same. "Take me away to save Daddy. Anywhere but here. He will be safe. He goes to work."

Jane unbound her and slid them both into the ducts in a hasty way of slightly putting the vent back into place. They were on the roof by the time Dr. Heart beat the door down and Juris had Jane and Jizzybelle in the air to a safe house no one would ever consider.

Another Dreamscape

Kitchen, M. Kay Castle, After Midnight

Magda placed a glass of vodka before a Jane bruised and swollen, and sat at the small table in the corner of the kitchen with her own glass and the bottle. The older Estonian woman looked at her with sad eyes to match Jane's. "You love him. No sad."

"I love him and I will kill his wife." Jane said, softly, as she downed the vodka in a gulp. "I will bring him the ashes and no explanation."

Magda poured herself a glass. "He will not accept it from you. You will have to find something else."

Jane placed her empty in front of Magda for more. "He deserves the truth."

Magda drank and poured Jane a fresh one. "He deserves real love. You've lived with the knowledge this long; you can take it to grave."

Jane sighed because Magda was right. Magda was the true stronghold of the castle. Magda knew so much about so much and had the discernment to dole the wisdom.

"Make her suffer that is your justice and his. Make her remember every child. Bring back what is left, we will find a way to get it to him," Magda stated with decision after she killed her glass. "You two have future. She doesn't."

"There is no amount I can give her to suffer that would be sufficient for the children. None." Jane killed her glass and pushed to have more. Magda, reluctantly, gave it.

Magda nodded as she passed the full glass to Jane. "You have future with Mikhail. You want future with Mikhail. He has waited for it. He has been more than patient with you."

Jane began to cry. Something she rarely did. "I want that, but-"

Magda cut in. "You are stronger. You can want and have. You have to be as you were before. . .Before he said how we had to be. You know you love. You know you hate. You know death. You made death before, you can make death now. Especially now. You have same purpose as then, but for more victims than then."

Jane wailed as she drank, then pushed for more. Again, Magada, reluctantly gave, and pushed back. It was sight rare and Magda gave strong countenance. Jane had never known true maternal comfort and Magda wouldn't give it now. Jane had to find her strength. Had to center in the dark part of herself where there was nothing, where the nightmares lived in total detachment of all humanity, all semblance of value, the machine of murder, death.

"You are strong, Jane. You will avenge. You will bring comfort to yourself for the souls that are not lost. They frolic in heaven, but their mother. . .she deserves the pain that you can wield in excellence. Slow. For Heidi, for Petra, for the children, you will avenge, even for Mikhail. I suspect he will know in time. He will never speak of it, but he will know in time." Magda was certain as she emptied her glass. "He ran to you as past and future. Inherently, he will know why. You are problem and solution. He chose solution. He never asked why you were there, what you saw. He never asked because he chose to not know. Same as now, you do this, he chose not to know, so he will never know because he already knows and chose you."

Jane found comfort in the reason and wiped her eyes on her tight black long sleeve. "I hurt, Magda, in a way. I don't like the lie, but I understand why."

"Poet!" Magda exclaimed in a humorous way and Jane laughed as she wiped her tears on her sleeve. "Like Billy Joel!"

Jane couldn't help but laugh uproariously. "Matter of Trust!"

They both laughed as each poured a new drink.

All would be well. . . for some.

The Second Explosion

Broken Abbey, In The City, Early Evening

The cryptic nature of the place always made most go away in the middle of Rego-Ville. The streets were full of gyrating and mutating zombie-like figures that ate each other and performed acts of violence that kept cops and most military away. The government and different corporate entities kept a safe distance for study. It wasn't a ghetto; it was a CDC war zone.

So it was a perfect safe house for Jane.

The upper tower was where they stashed Jizzybelle in a frantic state to spill her guilty conscience. Jizzybelle was certain she would be dead before her husband found her.

"Please let me spill and do away-Archie deserves better-he always tells me so. I am not worth anything and now I'm here and I'm worth nothing and Archie will be better off. Baby did a bad thing!" she rambled quickly as they positioned her into the tower cell and closed off everything from the helipad entrance and the tower stair case hall.

Everyone ignored her. The team had to pick off the snipers from different gangs and lesser corporate entities that wanted to claim the unknown. The major players kept away because this was the lesser being test run-this was the street drug in the worst action. Something to study and refine so the drug could be used in the "correct" way and the best entity got the most money.

They strapped Jizzybelle to the bed on the stone wall due to her wail and flail. She frantically tried to explain the entire debacle; it came out as gibberish and tears.

Jane, calmly, stepped toward the secured long haired, permed blonde, curved body and fleshy assed Jizzybelle who flushed against her restraints like her Daddy taught. "What happened?"

"I had to spill the Rego!" Jizzybelle began again. "They were going to kill Daddy! I am below what Daddy is due and if I gave them the milk, I will rise above! She told me! Give them the milk, Daddy will LOVE me! He hasn't loved me and touched me and protected me for so long. So many many women he placed above me."

Jane kept her face straight. "What and Who?"

"The naked woman in the sand! She sent the man who pleased me in secret when Daddy wouldn't! Daddy loved me once! Daddy treasured me once! Then the other women came! Sometimes I brought them! His happiness mattered most to me! His happiness was my happiness. He left me even when he was present. We lost us. I wanted us back. I thought the spill would get us back," Jizzybelle explained with a ferver of shakes and spittle. Her tears were gone and hysteria compelled her to rush with confession. Her voice changed dramatically into a deeper tone. "YOU WILL LISTEN!!"

Jane looked at her with a raised manicured brow."Who is the 'naked woman in the sand'?"

"She speaks to make us BETTER! Give the milk and we are assured LOVE," Jizzybelle assured with ethereal certainty. She began to shake with an unnatural fervor. She rolled with it , looked at Jane, and then spat a large wad of blood onto Jane's corset. "She knows what Master wants. She will get it for him. They will all die. They won't understand until they die."

"WHO WILL DIE?" Jane exclaimed as she tried to hold the woman against her shakes.

Jizzybelle shook with an unnatural laughter in a voice not her own. "ALL AGAINST THE MASTER. FOOLS. FOOLS. FOOLS. THEY TAKE A YOUNG GIRL AND GET VENGEANANCE!"

Jane watched as Jizzybelle shook, spat, and laughed. Jane took a step back and noticed the light trails of blood as they seeped out of Jizzybelle's exposed skin.

Jizzybelle seized and screamed. "ROJAS WILL SET IT AND MASTER WILL END IT."

Within moments of hysterical laughter, Jizzybelle exploded with a vibrancy that sent the Abbey tower to rubble.

Yet, Jane floated in a plasma bubble as the fire consumed and devoured everything in front and around her. Her vision was unaffected by heat or flame. The large bubble protected her and contained her as the fire swam around it unnaturally in slow waves with body parts and torn faces occasionally in a bob. She didn't shake, she didn't scream, she didn't react at all, but she knew she should've. She stood inside the plasma paralyzed as everyone and everything incinerated slid down in ashy debris. She felt the plasma eat at her clothes to touch her skin. She couldn't fight it. She couldn't struggle. Then the voice filled her ears. "You carry vengenance with a strength and persistence I admire. You will carry out mine for now."

The plasma reached Jane's skin and burned it in streaks. The bubble floated until it popped itself on a small sharp edge of what was left of an aged stairwell in the defunct abbey. As it popped, Jane was able to feel the pain of the abuse and got her voice back-just in time to scream as she fell a few floors and landed on debris in a tucked position she fought to have to minimize the damage. She knew she would survive, but barely.

The impact muffled her final scream as she slid into a darkness that wasn't her own.

Inspector San-Angel's Jane Addiction

City Hospital, Coma Wing 7, Room 3, Early Morning

The sunlight streaked through the broken blinds of the simple, sterile hospital room. Beyond the small blips and beeps of the equipment attached to the comatose victim, the only sound was of a Styrofoam cup in hand brought to large smooth lips to deposit the aromatic coffee. He was in a black trench coat and Italian shoes worn from many a mystery. He was a tall man with a thick build and a presence that made confessions come easy. His widow's peak was accentuated by the high and tight cut of his deep black hair. His shadow that loomed over her molested her in a curious way as if careful of the bandages and stitches.

He stood in a trance of her, like he had for a month any chance he got. The grafts had taken well and she appeared healed on a quicker schedule than any imagined. She looked beautiful with her scrapes and scars. She had haunted him since the moment he had found her-the only survivor of the explosion. Jane Doe was her name for now. Nothing had pulled up on the somewhat prints he could get. Her teeth gave nothing and her DNA hadn't been registered anywhere. He had figured a runaway, caught up in cult warfare, which was common in the Warehouse District amongst the Rego-heads and homeless, and she had been an unfortunate street tale that lived to carouse another day. Except, the story didn't fit her somehow, she appeared to be more than that-better. He wondered by some of her scarring if she hadn't been some kind of vigilante trying to clean up Rego-Ville. There were a few of those-almost a gang, really-that wandered the streets to fight the good fight. He shook his head and scoffed. Good fight, whatever that was anymore.

He slid the wooden stool up to the bed, as close as he could get to her right ear. He had decided when the shift had ended that he would talk to her that morning, not just stare at her as he had for so long. He would introduce himself. Wooly, his partner, had explained coma patients heard and registered everything.

Wooly, you better be fucking right, he thought. He cleared his throat, then took another gulp of coffee. He placed the cup on the stand next to the bed and leaned his face into her right ear."Hello, Miss. I pulled you out of the rubble that night. Your skin melted on me and. . . " He stopped-disgusted with himself. Melting skin won't endear her, asshole. "I'm Sylvester San-Angel. I'm an Inspector for City Drug Task Force. I would like to know your name sometime."

He pulled back. She remained unresponsive. This was the best conversation he had with a woman in years, so he smiled. He continued with another lean. "You are a mystery I would like to solve. Who are you? Where did you come from? You seem pleasant. I don't think you're a Rego-head or doper. I like to think you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. That's what I thought I was that night. A case took me to the WD and I always hate going down there. I was down the street when BA blew-it shook every condemned place down in that area. Saved City Hall a lot of money, made a lot of contractors mad, but it's a treasure hunt for rubble down there now. It was weird that night. I couldn't see anything because of the ash, but I kept walking until I hit a big pile of debris and there you were... placed on top of it-most of your clothes gone and you looked rough. There was something about how you looked-fragility on a strong woman. .or just displaced. Like you shouldn't have been there, but it was exactly where you needed to be."

He shook his head. Get it the fuck together, San-Angel. I'm starting over. "I'm Sylvester San-Angel. I found you and I can't get you out of my head. I want to know who you are. I need to know anyway. You are a case-unofficial-to me. You have to wake up and tell me because I'm an Inspector and I always get the answers."

He pulled back and stared at her. He felt embarrassed and frustrated. He tried his interrogation tone, but kept it low so the nurses outside wouldn't notice. They were curious about his visits, though he always assured it was police business. "Nobody innocent goes to Rego-Ville and lives. You need to open your eyes and tell me who the fuck you are and why you were there. No arguments. No meandering answers. Open. Your. Eyes."