Fire in the Belly Pt. 02

Matthew didn't respond. He had brought Lily forth originally, but right now, her presence was not a cause for unalloyed joy.

As he watched, Lily's face slowly relaxed into blankness. Matthew had seen this process often enough to understand what was happening, and continued to observe, while Lily receded, and Jill emerged.

Jill's eyes focussed slowly on his. Her ironic half-smile rose to her lips.

"Huh," she said softly. "Our Lily is a caution, and no mistake."

Even with his sperm decorating her face, Jill was clearly unfazed by the situation, clearly still very much her own woman.

Still, Matthew felt somewhat uncomfortable.

"Do you mind if I... uh... clean you up?" he asked.

"As you wish," Jill replied airily, then extended her arms toward him.

Matthew rose from the bed, then helped her to stand.

He drew her into the bedroom's ensuite, where both took a brief shower together, Matthew washing away the products of their exertions from Jill, and vice versa.

Afterward, Jill invaded the wardrobe, found a robe there to suit her, while Matthew also dressed.

In the aftermath of his encounter with Lily, Matthew was less than entirely happy, and Jill didn't fail to notice this.

"I thought I'd better take over, mi amor," she said. "I could see Lily was taking you too far out of your comfort zone."

Matthew nodded sombrely.

"She certainly was," he said.

Jill shrugged.

"You wanted submissive... you got it."

Matthew looked confused.

"But, I didn't want it," he said.

For an instant, he thought Jill seemed inclined to contradict this statement... but she remained silent.

"You... you triggered me," he said, in sudden realisation. "I... I didn't see that in your plan."

Jill shrugged.

"I needed to confirm that my understanding of Lily was correct, and now I have."

She looked at him.

"Long-term, Lily won't be fully satisfied unless her slavery is confirmed. And she loved it... you saw that."

Matthew hesitated.

"Lily loved it," he agreed... then shook his head. "But... I didn't... I don't enjoy behaving like a thug."

"Well... I won't ask you to do it again."

For now, she added silently.

Matthew was still visibly discomfited.

"Clearly, though, it's what Lily wants," he said.

"Don't worry, mi amor," Jill said. "We'll work something out."

She looked at him, then decided to change the subject.

"We'd better check on D," she said, and led the way out of the room.

"About the demigod thing... I wasn't joking, you know," Jill said, as they walked.

"You believe in such things?" Matthew asked.

"Specific evidence is lacking, I know," she said, "so I'm approaching the idea with appropriate caution."

"Jill, I assure you... I'm not a demigod."

"Would you necessarily know if you were?" she countered. "And at the end of the day, there has to be some explanation for your power... right?"

Matthew looked uncomfortable.

"It could be many things," he said. "There's no reason I can see to assume a supernatural cause."

"Maybe you're not of divine origin," she said. "But you're clearly not a stock-standard human, either. You're... something more."

Matthew's answer, if he had one, remained unspoken for the moment. They had arrived at D's bedside, and she was stirring in her sleep, beginning to rouse.

D's eyelids opened slowly. Her eyes wandered, then focussed on Matthew. An expression of mingled joy and wonder dawned on her face.

"Is it really you, Boss?" she asked, in a hushed voice.

"It's... good to see you again, D," Matthew said. "I've been worried about you."

"About... me?" she asked incredulously.

"I'm... sorry I left you in pain."

"Are you going to...?" she began, then gulped. Suddenly, it was difficult to speak past a huge lump in her throat.

"Are you going to stay this time?" she managed, in a voice that was almost a squeak.

Matthew looked her in the eye and nodded slowly.

"I won't leave you to suffer again, D. I promise. I'll stay with you as long as you need me."

Tears of joy started from D's eyes. He had spoken, and for her, it was inconceivable that he should speak falsely. Matthew sat on the edge of the bed and gathered her to him, held her gently as she wept and clung to his arms.

Jill joined them, leaned over and bestowed comforting kisses upon D as she cried.

When her tears were done, D lay quiet, stroking Matthew's arms, and glancing up repeatedly at his face, to reassure herself that he was real and present. Gradually, a profoundly contented smile appeared on her face.

"Okay now?" Matthew queried.

"More than okay, Boss," she murmured. "So happy. So very, very happy to be home again. Thanks, Boss. Thanks, Mamacita."

"Ah... D?" Matthew said, after a time.

"Yes, Boss?"

"Do you really want D to stand for Delinquent?"

D gave a carefree shrug.

"Your choice, Boss," she said. "I don't hate myself any more... now that you're with me again."

"What do you think of 'Delta' as a name?" Matthew asked.

The young woman sighed happily.

"I like it just fine, Boss," she said.

Jill whispered into Matthew's ear. He hesitated, then nodded in response.

"Delta?" he said, and the young woman smiled at his use of her new name.

"Yes, Boss?"

"Look at me."

The newly named Delta obeyed readily. Matthew's steady gaze made her shiver with pleasure.

Matthew looked into her eyes unblinking for a long moment, then spoke one word.

"Trance."

A quizzical expression began to dawn on the young woman's face, then vanished. Her eyes closed, and her face relaxed.

Jill observed her closely for a moment, then signalled to Matthew.

"Lie down, Delta," Matthew commanded. "Jill... uh... Mamacita will wake you when the time is right."

"Now is the moment," Jill whispered in Matthew's ear, as Delta obeyed. "Her torment is at an end. When she comes to, we're going to see a change... if all goes well."

She pointed to the door.

"I have to banish you again."

Matthew hesitated, then nodded his understanding, and departed the room.

Jill dived into D's closet, to find that her wardrobe consisted, comically enough, of items clearly purloined from the stores of herself, Amy, and their mother.

Jill selected a long, silk robe that had been a gift from her father to her mother, and had cost him a very pretty penny in a Parisian boutique, laid it beside the woman on the bed, and with some difficulty, contrived to clothe her in it.

Lying beside her sister, Jill stroked her forehead and spoke in her ear.

"Come back, Amy," she whispered. "Come back."

Again and again Jill called for her sister, but there was no discernible response.

At last, Jill sat up. It clearly wasn't working. She felt discouragement arising... and clenched her will hard against it. There was a way to bring Amy back, she told herself, and she would never give in until she had found it.

Her adamant refusal to entertain any hint of despair left room for inspiration to arise... and arise it did.

Jill knelt astride her sister, then leant over to bestow a long, tender, mobile kiss upon her mouth. It was a gift of love, an attempt at resuscitation, a heartfelt plea for Amy's return.

For many moments, there was still no response... yet finally, her efforts bore fruit. The woman on the bed stirred and moaned softly. Jill broke the kiss, and sat to one side, breathing heavily. Her sister drew a slow breath, then released it in a long sigh. Her face assumed an expression of quiet dignity, and Jill knew instantly that she was no longer looking at Delta.

"Amy?" Jill asked quietly.

"I... thought I was... dead," the woman said in a sepulchral whisper, her eyes still closed.

Jill shivered, both at the words and the eerie tone in which they were uttered.

"No," she said quickly. "No. You're alive. You're very much alive."

Very slowly, the woman opened her eyes.

Now clearly recognising the sister she had grown up with, Jill sighed in relief... then smiled in triumph. They had won another battle!

"Hey, Amy," Jill said softly. "I've missed you."

The woman looked at her.

"Jillian?" she said.

Jill sighed.

"I guess so," she said, "if you still can't relax enough to call me Jill."

"What are you doing here?" Amy asked.

Jill frowned, pretending to be irritated.

"That's a fine way to greet your devoted sister, who's crossed half a continent to help you."

A deep sadness overlaid Amy's face. She shook her head.

"You can't help me, Jillian," she murmured. "There's only one person who can... and he won't... because... because I am unworthy."

Jill quickly reviewed the options available to her. She could try to cheer and encourage her sister, but knowing her as she did, she decided on a different tack.

"I sympathise, Amy, I really do," Jill said. "But right now, it's not about you."

Amy's brow furrowed slightly, and Jill was pleased to see her distracted a little from her inner torment.

"What do you mean?" Amy asked.

"Of course, you need help," Jill said. "But, what about if he needs your help?"

Amy's eyes widened as she leapt to a frightening conclusion. She sat up suddenly. Her hand went to her throat in fear.

"He... needs help?" she said. "What... what's wrong with him?"

"We have to save him, Sis," Jill said.

"S-save him?" Amy said. "Is... is he in danger?"

Jill shook her head.

"Not in danger... but he still needs your help... badly."

"What do I have to do?" Amy cried. "I'll do anything... anything! Tell me what to do."

"Since you and he parted," Jill said seriously, "he's been distressed... he's been distressed because he left you."

Déjà dit, she thought. Even though she herself was cursed... or blessed... with a dual personality, it felt distinctly odd to be repeating with Amy the same process of rehabilitation she had already gone through with D.

"But... why?" Amy said. "Why would that make him unhappy? He... he didn't want me."

She sighed and bowed her head.

"He didn't want me," she repeated sadly. Tears ran down her cheeks, then dripped from her chin. She wept silently, steeped in misery.

Jill took hold of her sister's hand and spoke to her, quietly but urgently.

"He's had time to think since then. He wants to see you again. He wants to try being with you... being with us."

Amy looked up at her, hope trembling in her expression.

"Can it be true?"

"You'll find out when I bring you to the master bedroom," Jill said.

"He's here?!"

"Yes... and he's waiting for you... but you mustn't go right away."

Jill was reasonably confident that the shock to Amy's body would be substantially lessened by D's reunion with Matthew, but she still considered it advisable to ready her sister for the encounter as best she could.

Amy tensed, as if to rise from the bed... but went no further: her sister had said she must wait... and clearly, she spoke for him.

"What... what must I do?" Amy asked.

"You have to prepare," Jill said.

Torn, Amy hesitated, then nodded reluctant agreement.

Jill planned to conduct the preparation as a ritual of cleansing, adopting the role of servant, intending her sister to see herself as a royal bride. Accordingly, she led Amy to a bathroom, where she ran a hot shower, then laid her hands to the fastenings of Amy's robe. Amy stiffened and looked at her askance.

"It's what he wants," Jill told her.

Slowly, Amy's resistance softened, though in what followed, she kept her gaze averted from both her sister and her own body.

Jill removed Amy's robe, then her own, and led her sister into the shower. There, she gently but thoroughly washed Amy's body, wet and glistening in the stream of hot water, with a slow, soapy sponge. At the first touch, Amy tensed sharply, only gradually relaxing as she became accustomed to the strange experience of being so intimately attended to by her own sister. Jill ran the sponge over every available part of Amy's body, speaking softly all the while of the encounter that awaited her, bidding her sister imagine how he would touch her, and how the pleasure of being so touched would rise, then fill her... then overflow.

Despite her diffidence, Amy could not forever resist her sister's evocative words and caresses, and her body eventually began to respond. As Amy's sexual heat increased, Jill ran the sponge further and further down her sister's belly, ever nearer to the secret she still protected with closed legs.

When she felt Amy was ready, Jill positioned herself facing her sister, laid her cheek against Amy's, and whispered, "Open now, Amy. Open for him."

Caught between desire for Matthew, and the shame of being so touched and brought to arousal by her sibling, Amy hesitated a long moment, but eventually succumbed, inevitably, to the demands of her body and heart.

Very slowly, Amy parted her legs, and Jill began - so softly! - to run the sponge between them, all the while whispering further erotic secrets in her sister's ear. As Amy's arousal intensified, she placed her hands on Jill's shoulders, and clung to her, and sighed with a need that was becoming uncontrollable.

Jill did not accelerate the pace of her movements, but maintained a slow, steady rhythm that Amy couldn't resist, and her desire mounted... and mounted... then transformed into honied rapture. Amy's grasp on her sister tightened to a convulsive, almost painful grip, and she began to gasp and moan, at the mercy of a long series of warm waves of pleasure that rolled irresistibly through her.

In response, Jill felt desire awaken in her own body. Remembering Matthew's hypnotic instructions to her, she glanced at her sister's lips, and an impulse rose within her. Jill shrugged mentally, leaned forward to lay her lips upon her sister's panting mouth, kissed her as long as Amy's orgasm endured.

Oh, baby! Jill thought, as hot lust rushed through her. I could really get used to this!

When Amy's orgasmic quivering and panting had subsided, Jill, mastering her own desire, laid aside the sponge, waited for the shower stream to rinse the soap from her sister's body, then turned off the water.

Very gently, she slid a finger deep into Amy's vagina, withdrew it, plunged the same finger into herself. Then, she raised the doubly anointed member between their two faces, drew her sister's head toward hers with her free hand. Her inhibitions temporarily in abeyance, Amy didn't resist, so that the sisters kissed and licked the glistening finger together, sharing the savour of their mingled vaginal sap. At the taste, awareness of what she was doing slowly arose in Amy's eyes, and she blushed with shame and pulled back a little.

"You... you made love to me," she murmured. "How... how could you do that to your own sister?"

"At his command," Jill reminded her, "I had to cleanse you... excite you... make you ready for intimate congress."

To this, Amy could of course raise no objection, though her discomfiture was still apparent.

Jill took up a towel then, and dried her sister, making her movements slow and gentle, keeping her head slightly bowed, like a body-servant attending to her royal mistress. When she was done, she clothed Amy once more in the silk robe.

Jill quickly dried and clothed herself, then took her sister by the hand, to lead her towards the promised tryst. Amy resisted a moment, then allowed herself to be drawn along, her body richly clad, like that of a noble, yet her feet bare, like those of a supplicant.

Just before reaching the doorway to the bedroom where Matthew waited, Amy stiffened and came to a halt, breathing heavily, overwhelmed by the thought that she was about to enter his presence.

Understanding, Jill released her sister's hand and stepped back, allowing Amy to take the final steps when she was ready, without urging or encouragement.

At last Amy took a deep breath, and stepped into the doorway... and there he was!... standing in the centre of the room, regarding her gravely.

Instantly, Amy sank down to lay fully prone, pressing her face against the floor.

"My master," she breathed. "My master is here."

***

Internally, Matthew winced. It was one thing to accept the subservience of Lily... she was a secondary aspect of Jill, one that had only appeared as a consequence of his influence. It was her nature to behave as a slave. Amy, on the other hand, had been a fully independent human being in her own right.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that she didn't need to address him in these terms, didn't need to behave like this, that he would really rather she didn't. Before he could speak, however, he saw Jill, standing in the doorway, put a finger to her lips in warning, and subsided, realising that he was to tread carefully with Amy in this reunion.

Matthew inhaled deeply, trod quietly toward the prone woman, then knelt down and took hold of her hands.

"Please stand up, Amy," he said.

Thus commanded, Amy slowly rose to her feet, stood with her head bowed before him, her body shaking with mingled awe and desire, gazing down in disbelief at his hands holding hers.

"Are you suffering, Amy?" Matthew asked softly.

"It is nothing, my master," Amy breathed, "now that I stand in your presence once more."

Matthew shook his head.

"It is not nothing," he contradicted quietly.

Behind Amy, Jill rolled her head in an incredulous arch, then joined her fingers in an unmistakable sign that Matthew would have found comical, under other circumstances.

Stop talking and fuck her! she mouthed.

Matthew hesitated. Sexual activity was still relatively new to him, and as yet, he had been intimate with Jill only.

You are forgetting Lily, he reminded himself. You have more experience than you realise.

Yet still, he hesitated.

Divining his difficulty, Jill glided over to him, and whispered in his ear.

"Be kind to her, mi alma, and fuck her sweetly. She drips with desire for you. Trust your body, which has the instincts of a million years of fucking."

Her words reminded Matthew of the restaurant, where Jill's unbridled speech had fired him with lust. His penis rose at the memory and he found himself able to look upon Amy with desire. He glanced once more toward Jill, then spoke.

"Do you want to... come to bed with me, Amy?" he asked, hesitantly.

At these words, Amy lost control of her body. Matthew caught her as she slumped, held her body against his.

"My master," Amy moaned. "O my master."

She gulped, then managed to summon further words.

"My body and soul belong to you, my master," she husked. "Use them as you will."

Matthew glanced at Jill, lifted Amy and laid her on the bed, then slowly removed his clothing.

Still in the role of attendant, Jill stepped forward and parted Amy's robe, revealing her naked body. And indeed, Matthew saw, she was exceedingly beautiful, and her shy hesitance only served to increase her desirability. He saw again that she was almost identical to Jill, particularly in the conformation of her body, yet even there, subtle differences combined to make a unique and unmistakable identity.

Flitting briefly forward once more, Jill gently raised and separated Amy's legs, revealing the roseate fissure, the secret portal to her body, that glistened with desire for Matthew.

It was too much for Amy to look upon Matthew as he positioned himself to enter her, too much to move in response... she kept her face averted and her body remained immobile, apart from the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed.

Jill understood her sister's lack of response: Amy still felt she was unworthy. She sought mentally for some means of dealing with this diffidence. Inspiration arose and, leaning close, she whispered into her sister's ear.