Of Crystals and Watches Ch. 09

Victor parked his motorcycle on the side of the road a couple dozen or so feet behind a small prison bus. He climbed off his bike and walked out to where he had hidden a pair tire spike strips under some leaves. After checking to make sure that no one was around to see, he picked up the devices and put them into a large bag that was strapped to the side of his bike. With that taken care of he straightened his jacket and walked towards the bus.

"Excuse me, do you folks need some help?" he called out as he approached, bringing forth as much congenial concern as he could muster. He rounded the backside of the van to find a pistol pointed at him.

"Freeze!" a policewoman yelled, brandishing her sidearm at Victor. Behind her was the driver, kneeling beside the flat tire and, per the instructions Victor had written for Elise to deliver, also a woman.

"I'm sorry, I just saw you pulled over on the side of the road and thought you might need some help," Victor defended himself, holding his hands up.

"Ah great, just what we needed," the driver commented. "Some guy trying to play the hero."

The policewoman stared at Victor, keeping her suspicions and weapon trained on him. "I"m going to need to see some ID," she finally said.

"Sure thing," Victor replied, reaching into his jacket pocket as he slowly approached the two officers. It was a trick he had used on several occasions in the past one that he would use once more. With practiced speed he pulled his whorestone out of the pocket and let its light engulf the two women.

With the officers now under his control and waiting docilely for his commands, Victor took a moment to evaluate them physically. The driver was middle-aged with graying hair, and her face looked like it had a bit of scowl even in her emotionless trance state. The guard was better, or at least younger, but she was heavy-set. To Victor, she looked like the kind of woman who had been an effortless knockout at 18, but hadn't put in the effort needed to maintain those looks as she got older. Probably had a few too many doughnuts along the way too.

But that was only a mild disappointment. The instructions that he had written for Elise to deliver only specified that women be assigned, so that Victor could control them as he was now. He could have directed that they be attractive, but that was a mistake Victor had already made once before. He had, through trial and error, discovered that orders which could not feasibly completed were simply ignored, so an order to send attractive women would have failed if there had been no attractive women to send.

So the two women were not aesthetically or sexually interesting to the hitman, but that wasn't the point. They would serve their purpose just the same.

"Ladies, I am take command of this operation," he said. "My orders are to be followed to the letter and supersede the normal chain of command."

"Yes, sir," they both responded.

Having kept the message short and comprehensive, he pocketed his crystal. With the way his employers kept a tight purse string on his battery supply, he was always looking to be as efficient as possible with his usage of it.

"What do you need, sir?" the guard asked, holstering her weapon.

"I'm here to collect your prisoner, you'll be transferring him to my custody," Victor said.

"Understood, sir," they both answered. The driver then opened the door to the vehicle, allowing the guard to climb into it. A moment later she came back out with a man who was bound at the wrists and ankles, leading him by the link of his handcuffs. She presented him to Victor, holding a key in her free hand.

"Here he is, sir, with the key to his restraints," she said.

Victor nodding before looking down at the ankle cuffs. "Unlock those," he ordered. The guard complied, getting down on her knees and inserting the key in the appropriate hole. She turned it, causing the cuffs to disengage and fall to the ground.

The prisoner lifted his feet, feeling the freedom of not having his ankles bound to each other. "Thank y-" he started to say before he looked up to see Victor pointing a revolver at his face.

"Don't thank me so soon, Dr. Davis," the hitman warned.

The doctor breathed heavy and uneven breaths, fighting his nerves. "That glow earlier," he managed to say. "You work for them, don't you?"

"Assuming we're talking about the same them, yes," Victor replied.

Davis chuckled despite the situation he found himself in. "You don't even know who they are, do you?"

"No, I don't, and it doesn't matter," Victor replied before glancing over at the guard. "No one is to ever know that I was here. As far as anyone else is concerned, the prisoner took advantage of the flat tire to unlock his restraints and escape to the woods on his own."

"Yes, sir," the guard and driver both said in response.

Victor returned his attention to his new captive. "You and I, Doctor, have places to go." He then led Dr. Davis to his bike, forcing him to sit backwards on the back of the seat and clipping his handcuffs to the bike so that he couldn't escape. It was going to be a long, round about trip through back roads to avoid giving too many eyes too many good looks, but damn it if Victor didn't love his bike.

The hitman climbed on himself, revved up the engine, and drove off. He wasn't used to taking targets alive, but it was what this job required. Blood would be spilled in the end regardless.

***

Sitting alone in her dorm room in the early morning, Sarah typed on her laptop. After finishing another sentence she leaned back in her chair and sighed. Copying her sister's handwritten notes was a boring task, useful as it was to her studies.

She glanced over at her alarm clock. It had been 30 minutes since she started, 15 since Liz had walked out of the room, saying that she had some sort of business to attend to. Damn if didn't feel like two hours.

Sarah felt at the choker she wore around her neck, letting her connection to her Master, however thin, fill her with joy. It filled other parts of her body with a certain heat too.

She smirked, tabbing out from her notes and pulling up a web browser. She typed in the name of a porn site into the search bar and just like that an entire world of sexual delights was on her screen. Most of it didn't interest her, as it didn't involve her Master. Some small part of her felt a tinge of sadness over that, she had enjoyed her fair share of porn before her enlightenment. But she had discovered a new interest that had worked its way around that.

She hadn't realized it at the time, but there was something within Sarah that had been suppressed by the fact that she had been in a committed relationship from a young age. Since her research into the chokers she and her sister now wore, Sarah had become fascinated by BDSM, the dominance and submission parts in particular.

Part of it played into being a Love-Slave, her entire purpose was to not just submit to her Master but subsume her entire existence into him. But there was something else, something that had been with her long before her enlightenment.

One thing about BDSM videos is that the people in them tend to cover their face to once extent or another. Blindfolds, masks, gags, all of them made it easier for Sarah to project herself and others onto the people in the video, for her to find pleasure in them.

Her favorites were the ones where one sub would abuse another on the part of their mutual dom. Switch was the term she had found on the internet, one which she quickly adopted for herself. She was a sub for her Master, but a dom to her sister-slaves, be they her blood sister or not. At least, that's the way she wanted things to turn out in the end.

For now though she would have to gorge herself on the fantasy and let that be enough.

Sarah eyed the door, knowing that at any moment Liz could return from whatever errand she had gone on. In the past that would have stayed Sarah's hand, or at least made her be subtle and cautious.

Instead, Sarah found that there was no hesitation. Her body was no longer hers to be ashamed of, and if her sister saw her naked, well, her body belonged to the same person. Combine that with the fact that the twins had already done sexual things together since their enslavement, and it left a Sarah who had no real inhibitions when it came to what her sister might or might not see.

So she pulled off her t-shirt, letting her C-cup breasts bounce free. She giggled to herself as she pulled on the waistband of her panties just enough so that they fell off her body and to the floor as she strutted over to her bed, imagining that she was doing this front of her kneeling sister-slaves. They would have to gaze up at her stunning form, establishing her dominance over them, while their Master watched from on high, establishing his dominance over all of them.

Putting one leg up on her bed, Sarah began grinding her pleasure box against the edge of the mattress. It took her a second, but she was able to find the exact angle where her clit would receive the most stimulation.

"Ah, yes, bitch," she muttered as her engine got revving. "Use Master's mouth to eat Master's pussy." Her pace increased as her desire for release did.

Soon she was enthralled in her masturbation and her fantasies alike, falling out of step with reality. She didn't hear when the door unlocked, not when it opened, nor when it closed. She also didn't noticed her sister walk into the room and, upon seeing what Sarah was getting up to, shake her head disapprovingly.

"You have to get a grip on yourself," Liz said, finally pulling her sister out of her reveries.

"What?" Sarah asked, stopping her humping. She looked over her shoulder to see Liz. "Oh, you're back," she said casually, as if she were still doing the school work she had been when her sister left. Then she got her engine slowly revving again, restarting her grind at a slow and steady pace, her earlier fervor gone.

"What's gotten into you?" Liz asked. "It's like you've become a different person."

Sarah stopped. "Of course I am, we both are. But there's nothing wrong with it, we've just woken to what we were meant to be."

"What does this..." Liz began before gesturing to the wet streak Sarah had left on the edge of the mattress, "has to do with being a Love-Slave?"

Sarah strutted over to her sister, hips swaying and her chest pushed forward proudly. Despite her desire to stand up to Sarah, Liz found herself faltering at her twin's strong silence and stance.

"I know you haven't been answering Mom's texts," Liz said, hoping that invoking their parent would undercut whatever bravado her sister was feeling.

Sarah smirked before looping her finger through Liz's choker. With a firm but gentle tug she pulled her sister's face closer so that they were identical eye to identical eye.

"You think I care what Mom thinks anymore?" Sarah asked with a smirk. "I only answer to one person, and anyone who isn't Master, their opinion doesn't matter."

Liz tried to put on a brave face, but it instead it came off as a pitiful grimace. "Of course we serve Master, but...you don't think anybody else matters? I mean...I still care what other people think."

Sarah's mouth unfurled into a predatory smile. "Oh, Liz, I knew what you were long before Master ever took you for his own. All our lives you've been called the good student while I was the slacker." She leaned in and whispered into her sister's ear. "But you're a follower, nothing more."

"What? No I'm...not," Liz protested weakly, squirming but not escaping from her sister's hold.

Sarah grabbed her sister's face, stopping the half-muttered disagreement. "You know exactly what you are," she whispered. "Now be a good girl and kneel."

Liz's knees started to feel weak, wobbling at her natural urge to obey authority. Her legs gave out and she found herself on the floor. Liz looked up at Sarah, her eyes coming first upon her twin's smooth, glistening pussy before rolling up her flat stomach, past the mounds of her perfectly formed breasts to Sarah's smirking face.

"I'm tired of hiding what I really am, what we really are," Sarah said. "We're going to present ourselves to Master tomorrow, and there are some rules I'll need you to follow."

***

Elise typed away at her laptop, trying to ignore the groans of pain that were coming out of the bathroom of the motel room she was in.

"Can you just close the door please?" she asked Victor as washed his hands and a pocket knife at the sink. She put in the extra effort to keep her eyes on her screen so that she didn't have to look at the blood dripping off the hitman's fingers.

"I can," Victor answered before wiping his hands dry and pulling the door shut.

The doctor's groans deafened just enough that Elise could ignore them, she turned her attention to her laptop. They had managed to get some names out of the not so good doctor, and given who she worked for and the resources they had at her command, it was a simple matter for Elise to get access to a database of students, staff, and faculty at that college.

It was no surprise that Davis had gotten a pretty young woman with an equally pretty twin for his secretary, weak men like him were nothing but predictable. There was also a short list of students that been seeing the doctor on a regular basis. Elise was quickly cross-referencing with the database to confirm that Davis had been telling the truth, though beyond that there was no tangible lead on the whorestone.

"Did you hear that last name he said?" Victor asked.

"No, I...couldn't listen to the screaming after a while," Elise admitted.

"Hm, well, it sounds like the most promising lead," Victor said. "He said that a girl named Desiree was the last patient he saw, and was the one to expose him."

Elise stopped reading her screen for a bit, processing that a woman had been able to stop someone who possessed a whorestone and wouldn't hesitate to use it. Was the girl lucky, or was there something else?

"What did he say about the last girl?" Elise asked Victor.

"Apparently there was some boy that was with her," the hitman answered. "Doc claimed he didn't know who he was though."

"Hm, so this boy must have been the one who did Davis in," Elise commented. "Let me look up the girl."

The name 'Desiree' brought back only one return from the database, so Elise brought up the profile. She was lucky that she hadn't been drinking anything, because otherwise she would have spit it out.

"Wha-?" she let out as soon as she saw the profile picture. For a split second she thought it an image of her, but from about a decade earlier. But she re-calibrated quickly and came to a different, more reasonable conclusion.

It was her, the one that got away.

Elise bit her lip in frustration, knowing what she had to do. She had standing orders from her boss instructing on what to do in a scenario like this, and it was the truth that she always obeyed her boss, no matter how much she hated it.

But there were long abandoned instincts welling up in her. Most of them she couldn't act on, there was one that didn't go against any of her orders.

"We got what we need. Go ahead and kill him," she told Victor.

The hitman seemed surprised by the order. "Hold on, what if it turns out he's been lying this whole time? We should keep him alive until we can confirm his story."

That was sound logic, but Elise didn't care about that in this instance. "I've known him for long enough," she said. "He's too much of a self-serving coward to come up with a lie like that under pressure."

Victor paused for a moment, causing Elise to wonder what his response would be.

"Very well then," he said. "But if this turns out to be the wrong call I better not get the blame for this." The experienced hitman grabbed his revolver from a table and made to open the door. "Don't worry about the body, I'll leave it in a ditch and burn it. Leave no evidence."

The hitman went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him to keep his business private. Elise packed up her laptop and started walking out the motel room just before the muffled bang of Victor's gun going off came through the walls.